The concept of theatre is fascinating. The whole notion of taking a story, however basic, examining that story, exploring the characters — both physically and psychological, and creating a world around these characters — sometimes a wood and paint world, other time an imaginary one, in order to make that story come to life, is fascinating. It is the ultimate imagination candy. The process is complex, involving a cast of many, both actors and production members, and, in most cases, a playwright. This team must work together with a single mission in mind: to create a ‘reality’ that allows audience members to participate in their particular vision. In short, for the audience and the art to connect — that interactive relationship — is the goal of all theatre. From Checkov’s Realism to the Bread and Puppet theatre to a variety of playhouses and acting troupes that have entertained audiences in and around the city of Harrisburg.

Harrisburg Area Community College Theatre Works performs two shows a season. The first of which occurred last weekend and only ran for two public performances, both of which are now over. Because of their limited runs, the shows at HACC do not get a lot of press, which is a shame, because they have produced some good quality theatre over the years — keep an eye out in the spring for their production of "Tom Jones".

Last weekend’s performance, "A Question of Mercy," is a play about life. Though obviously about death and terminal illness, this show is about big decisions: the choice of living a horrible existence and suffering through the throws of deterioration and humiliation or ending life through drastic means— assisted suicide. The central characters of the story are Dr. Robert Chapman, played by Jim Terry, and Anthony Caldron, played by Joe Kieres. The relationship between the doctor and Anthony defines the major conflict in the play. And the production proved disturbing. It was interesting and disheartening to hear students who were obviously there to fill a Theater 101 requirement say at intermission: ‘How much longer?’ or ‘I don’t want to learn any more about homosexuality!’

But it is for this reason that we need this kind of play. The subject of homosexuality and AIDS was handled in a very matter-of-fact way. There were no stereotypes in this show. And the portrayal of AIDS and all of its horrors was real. The make-up was realistic and so was the pain of the victims.

To explore the issues around the reality of gay America and AIDS requires courage and compassion. David Rabe, who has laughed in the face of expectation and status quo in the past, is no new voice to controversy. His Vietnam plays, including "Steamers" and "The Basic Training of Pavlo Hummel," are some of the most interesting and acclaimed examinations of the issues of war and American involvement in Vietnam in modern theatre. But the real hero is Marnie Brennan. Brennan had the courage to face these issues head on. Her decision to do this play in an intimate and ungiving studio, like HACC’s, was brilliant. In this small playing area where everything is tight, you are forced to deal with the play and its issues. Sitting on top of your neighbor and the actors is uncomfortable. There was absolutely no escaping the play. You cannot be distracted from the issues. You cannot escape Anthony’s presence.

This production was not at all what I expected when walking into the Rose Lehrman Arts Center. I was not familiar with the play, nor was I familiar with any of the young actors. But all expectations be damned; this was a great show, and it knocked me for a loop whether I expected it to or not.

But that was only the first surprise of the weekend. The following night brought the opening performance of York Little Theatre’s production of "Peter Pan" — what more could it be than a children’s musical about a boy who never wants to grow up and flitters around in green tights, back and forth between the "real world" and Never, Neverland? A few doubts were stacked into my shirt pocket when I walked into the auditorium.

Slowly, though, something changed. I certainly didn’t notice it at the time, but when the curtain came down and the first act was over, I realized I was smiling. Heaven forbidden. I even looked around a little to make sure that no one noticed. I think it was Peter Pan that softened my heart. Cara Giambrone had somehow made me let go of my critic’s knife, begin to enjoy myself, and appreciate the true value of what I was seeing: entertainment. Pure and simple. By the time the second act in Neverland started and we got to meet Tiger Lily, Captain Hook, and Smee, I hardly even noticed the psychedelic set or the misdirected arrow; I was enjoying myself too much. And by the time the end of the show arrived, I was glad that I came.

It is difficult sometimes to put away the things that we expect, but sometimes the effort is worthwhile. Without a little effort, or perhaps open-mindedness, I would still be concentrating on droopy tights, instead of singing Ugga-Wugg in my sleep.