Overview
Emery is happy living in her treehouse, communing with her plants. Her sister Hazel is miserable, working at the only diner in Millerville to support herself and her sister. Luanne is yearning for something, anything to bring meaning into her life. When Emery’s YouTube videos of her plant experiments accidentally start a cult—a CULT!—all three women are plunged into a different type of chaos, and each one of them has to find a way to live—and to decide what to believe.
Casting & Production
Casting
The People
EMERY HARRIS — 40s-70s. Lives in a treehouse. Uses a walker, though it’s unclear how much she actually needs it. Wears a gardening hat and glasses. She’s performing scientific experiments on the consciousness of plants. Plants make sense. People are confusing. And loud. And hard to read. And sometimes they touch you which is awful. So much safer to be alone with her plants.
HAZEL — Emery’s older sister. She’s been a waitress at the Millerville Diner for way too long, taken care of Emery even longer. Frustrated and powerless, a rage roiling just beneath the surface. She could have done so much with her life. Is it too late?
LUANNE — 20s-30s. Incredibly sweet and guileless. Hungry for joy, for a tribe, for something larger to believe in. (You may already know her from Be Here Now.)
The Plants
Mabel — A Giant Oak and Emery’s home.
Many Mimosas
Some Garden Peas — Some covered with a cloth hood to cut off light.
Aloe
Some of the plants are manipulable.
Setting
Emery’s treehouse in Millerville, NY, a fictional town two hours north of NYC.
One large room, floor to ceiling plants. Mable’s trunk rises up through the center, with a leafy branch extending in here and there. There are the “necessities” of life— we can sort of make out a mini-fridge, a sink and some bins, but mostly greenery. There are chairs and a table that Emery uses for her experiments and for broadcasting on her computer.
DS there is a step down to a balcony, where Emery can survey the forest and Grant’s fields. It overlooks the audience.
The only way to get to the treehouse is by ladder, through a hatch, so you really have to mean it if you’re going to visit.
Reviews
“A love letter to female friendship and an incisive examination of celebrity worship, the internet’s insidious power, and the lengths to which people will go to escape empty lives. The alchemy builds on Laufer’s unfussy yet poetic language, rich characters and quirky wit. Through them, she spins a story laced with surprising twists and sprinkled with magical realism.”
—Florida Theater On-Stage
“A beguiling work. Laugh-out-loud humor, but before long, a rather profound message about belief and connection.”
—Cincinnati City Beat (Critic’s Pick)
