Tribe of Fools' FLY EAGLES FLY, a Philly Fringe '18 standout, soared at the Drake

I remember being a young arts and culture writer for Philly Weekly when I covered the Barrymore Awards at the Kimmel Center, a relatively fancy affair where theater artists wear suits and cocktail dresses. For whatever reason, I have a vivid memory of spying Terry Brennan, Artistic Director and Founder of Tribe of Fools, in a bright red off-the-shoulder dress, his healthier-than-most shoulders and biceps made the overall look all the more confusing, or alluring depending on your aesthetic impulses. I knew that must’ve been a man who was both comfortable in his own skin (as much as we can be) and one who enjoys skewering gendered perceptions of self, a theater artist who probably had some interesting ideas to disseminate through the form.

He co-directed Fly Eagles Fly, a Fringe Festival standout (unfortunately, the run is over but something tells me elements of this show will resurface because football), with Joseph Ahmed and Caitlin Corkery is the superstar writer here because this quirky little play packs a meaty punch. [I’m resisting football metaphors for the time being.] This perfectly compact play is tender, it’s joyous and goofy, it’s heartfelt and altogether relatable - from the superfan and season ticket-holder, to the mystified observer more concerned with Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE), brain health, corporate sports avarice, and the manipulation of Colin Kaepernick’s police brutality protestations.

The premise is quite simple and carries the plot elements perfectly: Gwen Soupinski (Taiwo Sokan) is our protagonist, an eager and enthusiastic HR Coordinator at an esoteric company with an eerily familiar office dynamic: there's the eager intern (done extraordinarily just by Jacinta Yelland); the low-key IT guy affectionately dubbed Copy Mike because he’s the only guy who can “fix” the copier machine; the numbers-obsessed financial analyst; and the far-too-confident alpha male. And as the football season starts taking off, in real time and in the play, Gwen is determined to win over her office colleagues who are anything but interested in what she has to offer (personality tests, an interactive HR portal, lunch and learn meetings, etc.). It’s the anonymous feedback on her programs where a spark is ignited - Gwen is determined to convert the cruelest of the lot into an office friend and football, she surmises, is the key.

[As an aside, as a queer person, sport has been an amusing spectacle my entire life and in a number of ways: I enjoy playing sports and am strangely, naturally apt in most of them, which straights find fascinating in a gay; I enjoy professional sports as a spectator to a degree, while maintaining a healthy amount of suspicion surrounding the masculinity that radiates out of the phenomenon of fandom; and I have long regarded sports chit chat as an entryway into straights’ worlds, from family members to coworkers. All of that is at play in Fly Eagles Fly and I am HERE for it.]

There is, true to Tribe of Fools’ form, great physicality. The opening number creates great kinetic liftoff with “All of the Lights” by Kanye West, a Rihanna-featured track from West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Apt, I thought, because it soundtracks the euphoric post-victory parade mayhem we all witnessed this past February when the Eagles beat the Patriots in Super Bowl LII. Ghost-riding whips, shit-eating, car flipping, hugging strangers, all of it is here with an intriguing examination of the absurdity of victorious public celebration. And the eerie hangover for football addicts whose ultimate fantasy, fulfilled with a Super Bowl victory, fades into a memory that loses its luster almost immediately.

I’m so grateful for Corkery and Ahmed/Brennan went IN on the complex family dynamics of a South Philadelphian bi guy who dares to bring his current male companion to football Sundays, even after he’s brought girls over, too. Copy Mike hilariously explains the superstitions that mostly men hold on to as rabid Eagles fans - keeping your spot in the living room once the team scores (even if you have to pee), accepting fault as a saboteur when you somehow jinx the team, and ritualistic devotion that perpetuates repetitive behaviors in the belief that they’re needed for the team to succeed. Also, there’s just tons of misogynistic and homophobic language bandied about in largely male spaces during games. It’s so problematic. Kyle Yackoski’s turn as Copy Mike is lovely - he nails some hoagiemouth and deftly navigates Gwen’s growing interest in football madness.

One of the silliest concepts in all of sports fandom, addressed deliciously here, is what makes a REAL fan. It’s a concept that I’m quite familiar as a resident of Philly for almost 10 years - I’m still not a REAL Philadelphian to the dogmatic devotees to a concept of authenticity. I was raised in upstate New York by Massachusetts natives: my teams have always been the Red Sox, the Celtics, and the Bruins (football is another matter - my dad picked up a Chicago Bears obsession in grad school). To some Philadelphians, this simple fact makes me some kind of enemy or bitter rival. I know that we can at least both agree on hating the Yankees, which is nice, but I find it all ridiculous of course. I have a throwback maroon Phillies hat that I like to wear because it represents something beyond a team to me: the city I live in, the city I want to see succeed, the team that means a lot to so many of my friends and contemporaries. But some dicks actually try to tell me that I have no business wearing it.

Gwen struggles to convince Bruce Floglogger, played with gusto and incredible physicality by Nathan Alford-Tate (the man busts out a wicked freestanding backflip in one scene!), that she is a true fan, even if she is still learning the game, players’ names, and adapting team lore and ritual. Such as extreme pessimism and negative forecasting of success. To Bruce, Gwen will never be a real Eagles fan because she hasn’t spent her entire life bleeding green. But Bruce’s story ended up being the real surprise in Fly Eagles Fly. His climactic reveal that he is all too familiar with the Kaepernick-instigated conversations about the NFL’s dark and amoral blindspots (like team owners and front office spin doctors who are kowtowing to Donald Trump’s bigoted rhetoric) was one of the themes I was hoping for. A majority of football superfreaks even know, in their heart of hearts, that it’s just a game that people go absolutely nuts over. And that tuning in or tuning out is some kind of political statement in 2018. For some, denying themselves the game of football for moralistic reasons is a gut-wrenching process of loss and FOMO. For others, there’s no better departure from reality than three+ hours of commercial-laden broadcast, characterized by corny former professional players’ commentary and over-the-top production, it's something that makes life worth living.