PRODUCTION NOTES ON THE MARS TRILOGY

Some backstory is probably in order here. Raisin Physics was originally written as the sequel to an epic comic space opera I’d written the year before entitled Forbit, Or A Marxist On Mars (which was itself a page-one rewrite of my NYU undergraduate thesis project). Forbit was the story of a bratty Martian aristocrat and his emergence as the savior and hero of his people. It involved extensive use of puppetry, a purposely low-tech Mystery Science Theatre 3000-type look that evoked B movie serials of the past, and a large cast performing multiple roles, Kids In The Hall-style. The events in Forbit set the stage for Raisin Physics, as the characters Forbit and Roswell in the former play are the ancestors of the character Boswell in the latter play.

The more earthy, accessible romantic comedy Raisin Physics was in turn supposed to be the lead-in to the existential comedy Ye Gods, a play which takes place in the future, in the Martian heaven of GooGooTwyne (a sort of Martian Asgard or Mount Olympus), where the Martian Gods dwell, and recounts the final moments before the old God Blarg is retired to make way for the new God, whoever that might be. Ye Gods involves one of Boswell’s descendants, but to reveal exactly what that means would be to spoil the play’s greatest secret.

The Mars plays were structured so that each one took place in a different time period and place: Forbit took place in the past on Mars (about fifty years ago), Raisin Physics was set in the present on Earth, and Ye Gods takes place in the future in Heaven.

In writing all three of these Mars plays, I’d come up with literally hundreds of design sketches depicting the Martians’ history, architecture, fashion sense, plant and animal life, religious beliefs, et al. This might be seen as going too far, but I felt I had to really build this world from the ground up to fully understand my characters. Also, it was great fun. My version of Mars was peopled by little green men who lived a sort of Flash Gordon-type existence peopled with big clunky robots, ray guns, dragons, and rocket ships. Eventually, I decided to put aside both Forbit and Ye Gods for another time, as both were intensely ambitious, sprawling pieces.

Instead, I turned my attention to Raisin Physics, clearly the most normal of the three, designed to be a rather mainstream sitcom-style romantic comedy with some silly sci-fi elements (and only tangential connections to the other plays). I also thought it’d be better to unleash Raisin Physics on audiences before the other two decidedly weirder plays, which are sort of like the theatrical equivalents of Star Wars or Lord of the Rings, except played for laughs.

Someday I’ll rewrite Forbit and Ye Gods to my satisfaction (maybe even as novels; goodness knows I have enough material). For now, I’m pretty happy with Raisin Physics, as it’s the biggest crowd-pleaser of the three, not to mention the simplest to stage.