By Madeleine Mason, Secretary and Staff Writer
March 30, 2019
A co-worker once told me she was sexually assaulted by a superior. There was nothing I could do about it.
Legally, it boiled down to two things: it was considered an alleged assault and required further investigation before termination, and if word got out that a sexual predator was working at our company, it would be bad for business.
I still dwindle on my complicity in the situation. Why did I stay? Why did I not tell anyone? Why did I act like everything was fine?
(The answers are, because I liked my job, because I legally could not tell anyone, and because I was in such a state of shock that someone I work closely with sexually assaulted a co-worker.)
Complicity is good for capitalism. Work, work, work. Pay, pay, pay. The fumbling employees of Kotomoto’s Teas discover that as they maneuver through the bombastic script of Mr. Kotomoto Is Definitely Not White.
This production, helmed by NoMads Arts Collective, explores the events surrounding a racist email when someone shoplifts from the store. A warning to anyone who goes, SO MUCH happens. The basic through line is such:
Employees work at a tea store. Boss is not a good person. Boss sends racist email after shoplifting incident. Employees are extremely uncomfortable with their working situation. Two employees, both women, one of color, quit by the end of the play.
This play is decorated with fever dreams of tea, hits of the eighties, and a giant blow-up puppet Julie Taymor would get wet upon first glance.
Playwright Ben Claus effortlessly weaves serious issues with the wacky and surreal. This is best examined when an employees meets the eponymous Mr. Kotomoto for the first time. Spoiler alert: Mr. Kotomoto is definitely not white, but instead, a giant, inflated puppet. It is the long-lost cousin of the Wizard of Oz’s giant head. It’s so cartoonish, I giggled when I saw the actors rolling it out. But, it’s so menacing when you see what it represents. Mr. Kotomoto doesn’t care. Mr. Kotomoto will take up as much space as he wants. Mr. Kotomoto takes up the entire space of the stage. Mr. Kotomoto trembles and quakes and may crush you whenever you let your guard down. It’s a looming force that watches the play with you and breathes down your neck.
The cast for Mr. Kotomoto... is superb, standouts being Shea Peterson and Shea Lee as Reed and Josie. They ricochet off each other with brutal wit and comedy, making their eventual fallout tragic. When Bethany Arrington’s sweet and desperate Beatrice enters the mix, they become a crackerjack trio only rivaled by Groucho, Chico, and Harpo. In Act One, their standout scene is a faux-commercial for matcha. As they instruct us on how to make the unoxidised, highly caffeinated, green tea, the employees tell us to whisk it in an “M” formation.
“M, for ‘Mmmmmm!’ ” Beatrice enthusiastically yelps.
“Or, you know, M for matcha,” Reed adds.
This brilliant moment showcases their comedic timing, awareness, and enthusiasm for the work. That, along with the reveal of Mr. Kotomoto, are the highlights of the show. Director Scott Jackoway traps the employees in the tight vacuum of corporate complicity and forces us, the audience, to watch a scandal ruin their wholesome, workplace relationships . Our heroes start out hugging and sharing psychedelic dream tea, and end up barely standing within a foot of each other. He pits them against them against their faulty, egocentric boss (played without an ounce of sympathy by Ryan Leonard), teasing the possibility they will slowly become him the longer they work in this dirty business.
The longer we spend in the corporate machine, the more of ourselves we lose. It’s the whole baseline of capitalism.
Claus’ narrative of the erosion of self under capitalism resonated with me as an artist. My identity and my career are indistinguishable. As someone working in the theatre, my occupation is my life. Sure, my job is focused in the arts, but the arts are a business. I need to make money to live. There is no guiltless theatre.
Complicity is easy. It’s keeping my head low as I focus on my own success and ignore the needs of others. I was complicit when a fellow woman reached out to me. I can guarantee there were instances of racial complicity I perpetuated, using my excuse of introversion to not be a good ally.
Mr. Kotomoto… warns that when we are complicit, capitalism thrives. It’s time to raise our heads high and stick up for each other.
Mr. Kotomoto Is Definitely Not White
By Ben Claus
Directed by Scott Jackoway
Cast includes Bethany Arrington (Beatrice), Shea Lee (Josie), Ryan Leonard (Bruce), and Shea Peterson (Reed)
Assistant Directed by Gin To
Dramaturgy by Danielle Szabo
Stage Management by Erin Collins
Scenic Design by Alyssa Mohn
Sound Design by Matt Reich
Lighting Design by Jay Koch
Costume Design by Megan Pirtle
Puppet Design by Claire Ashley
March 29-April 31
Strawdog Theatre Company
1802 W Berenice Ave, Chicago, IL 60613
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