Past Reviews

Regional Reviews: San Francisco/North Bay


Mrs. Krishnan's Party
Marin Theatre Company
Review by Patrick Thomas

Also see Patrick's reviews of Art and Nobody Loves You


Justin Rogers
Photo courtesy of Indian Ink Theatre Company
If you're a theatregoer who revels in a taut narrative with a discernible beginning-middle-end plot, I'd say Mrs. Krishnan's Party, which opened this week at Marin Theatre Company is not for you. The production, created by Indian Ink, a New Zealand-based theatre company, and written by its two founders, Jacob Rajan and Justin Lewis (who also directed), is anything but a conventional piece of theatre.

Mrs. Krishnan's Party is ostensibly a two-hander, but it could also be called a 102-hander, as the audience is almost as much a part of the action as Mrs. Krishnan (played here with undeniable joy by Kalyani Nagarajan) and her assistant/border James (a charming and buoyant Justin Rogers) are. The action all takes place on the stage at Marin Theatre, which is dressed with boxes stacked everywhere to suggest the back room of Mrs. K's grocery store. But there's more than inventory here, for James has taken the liberty of outfitting this capacious back room with flower garlands and streamers, as it is the time for the Indian harvest festival of Onam. "Tonight," James says, "we are all one people," as Onam is a time when people of all races and creeds and religions and sexualities come together to celebrate and dance. Fittingly, James is dressed as King Mahabali, whose return from the underworld (where he was banished by Vamana, an incarnation of Vishnu, and is allowed back but once a year) is the reason for Onam.

That's about as far as the plot goes, aside from Mrs. K hoping her son Apu will come home to spend the holiday with her. But, dear reader, worry not, for the point here is not to get caught up in a story and watch it unfold before you, but rather to truly be a part of the theatrical experience. In Mrs. Krishnan's Party, we in the audience are perhaps even more important than the two actors, for the reason for Onam is fundamentally the same as the reason for theatre: it's a chance for people to come together and celebrate humanity and the joys and heartbreaks of the life we all share.

In this, Mrs. Krishnan's Party succeeds magnificently, thanks not only to the structure of the show, but also to the warm-hearted (and often hysterical) performances from Nagarajan and Rogers. As James, Rogers will greet you at the entrance to the stage/store room, welcoming you with a warm smile–and perhaps a comment on how wonderful you look that evening. (Do be prepared for a line–if you haven't purchased one of the 12 or so seats at the "top table" which is at the center of the space, you will be escorted to one of the "cheeky seats" arrayed on both sides. Earlier arrivals will likely get the first row.)

But the star here–both of the show and her store–is Nagarajan as Mrs. Krishnan. A widow whose husband died many years before (but who will make a very surprising return later in the proceedings), Mrs. K has worked tirelessly to keep the store running. Nagarajan imbues her character with a tremendous vitality. Although her accent does interfere with our ability to discern everything she's saying (I overheard more than one patron complain they couldn't always understand her), her boundless energy more than compensates. Her facial gestures are incredibly elastic, and she seems to bounce back and forth between two poles: a bucktoothed grin of joy and hospitality, and a dour look of confusion or hurt or anger when called for. Her physicality in the role is subtle–right until the point where she gets up to dance on the top table, looking like figures you might see in an ancient Indian tapestry–especially after she has changed out of her dowdy cardigan into an elegant sari and scarves.

Ever the gracious host, despite being surprised at the appearance of a hundred or so unexpected guests, Mrs. K does her best by cooking up a big pot of dal–with the help of the audience, who are asked to find her red lentils and basmati rice, and even to stir the dal or sauté the onions and add the spices to the final mix.

At show's end, you will be invited to share in the feast, and eat the dish that has been simmering over the last half-hour or so of the play–and which filled the space with fragrance.

Despite its lack of a true narrative arc, Mrs. Krishnan's Party is well worth attending–and consuming!

Mrs. Krishnan's Party runs through March 30, 2025, at Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Avenue, Mill Valley CA. Performances are Tuesdays-Saturdays at 7:30pm, with matinees Saturdays and Sundays at 2:00pm. Tickets range from $47-$97 (plus $6 handling fee per total order). For tickets and information, please visit www.marintheatre.org or call 415-388-5208.