Talk about conundrum: As the leader of a human settlement on a war-ravaged Florida, do you nuke the newly discovered alien queen — whose race tried to enslave Earthlings — and her thousands of eggs? Or do you hear the alien pleading for mercy, arguing that their defeated race has recognized the error of its ways and now only wants to go home? You can gamble on the aliens’ redemption, or you can decide that maybe the thing they learned about is revenge, in which case they’d go after humans given the chance.
This isn’t the kind of choice we often see on stage. Not that theater doesn’t deal in big decisions, but … an alien invasion? Really?
And yet this is exactly what Mac Rogers’ Honeycomb Trilogy, deals with: This is not just a play with a vaguely futuristic or alt-reality mood, or a goofy lark like “Starmites.” No, this is full-on, unapologetic science fiction with a galactic-scale backdrop involving interstellar trips and an insectoid race.
A busy dance card prevented me from catching the trilogy’s first two installments, “Advance Man” and “Blast Radius,” but last night I saw the final one, “Sovereign,” at the Secret Theater in Queens. (The run ends on Sunday.) Reading the “story so far” summary was useful, though it made me regret missing the previous plays, especially the middle one, and I’m still not entirely clear how Skins and Twitches work.
Anyway, the big decision I mentioned at the beginning of this post takes place near the conclusion of “Sovereign,” and it’s Governor Ronnie Cooke (Hanna Cheek, looking like a cross between Lara Croft and President Roslin on “Battlestar Galactica”) who has to make it. As if this weren’t hard enough, her estranged brother, Abbie (Stephen Heskett) has been collaborating with the invaders, consorting first with one in male form, then with one in female form (Erin Jerozal) — she who happens to make the case for the queen.
This is actually easy to follow on stage, because Rogers’ play — which is mercifully completely devoid of irony — follows a classic template. Everything takes place in one room, over a short period of time. The warring camps are clearly delineated, or so you think until a couple of reveals muddy the waters the second act.
The one thing Rogers has a hard time with is exposition. Because he can’t show any battles, the aliens in their insectoid form or the settlement’s conflicts, he uses a trial format to deliver information and lay out ethical dilemma. This gets protracted at times, especially when everybody has to make their case.
Still, the Honeycomb trilogy is a welcome experiment. Here’s to a playwright who’s interested in very big moral issues, and whose take on the family drama — those siblings are positively Greek — at least doesn’t unfurl on one of the Design Within Reach interiors so common on our stages.