In the world premiere of Dream Catcher by Stephen Sachs, two lovers go to war in a patch of the Mojave Desert (evocative sand-strewn set by Jeffrey McLaughlin). With the audience sitting in a tight circle around the intense, high-stakes action, Opal (Elizabeth Frances) and Roy (Brian Tichnell) battle ferociously for control of this turf—and each other’s hearts. Roy is a white engineer who works for an electricity company which is on the verge of signing a billion-dollar contract to build a solar-power installation in the Mojave. Not just young and ambitious, Roy is also a passionate advocate for alternative energy, believing with all his might that it can help save mankind from the catastrophic devastation of global warming. Opal is a feral and beautiful girl, a member of the Mojave tribe who has been rediscovering her roots here in the desert, reconnecting with the spiritual forces that have shaped her people over the centuries—the dreams, songs and myths that resonate within them. The triggering mechanism for Opal was discovering tribal bones and artifacts here in the Mojave, proof that she had stumbled upon on the burial grounds of her ancestors. Opal doesn’t want this sacred spot to be violated and blighted by Roy’s corporate masters, even if it means harming the cause of clean energy. She threatens to go public with her burial-grounds discovery, an act that could imperil Roy’s grandiose project. It’s science vs. spirit, progress vs. tradition here, conflicts that are heightened by the love—or at least the lust—that Opal and Roy feel for each other. One minute they are wildly kissing and embracing, getting ready to have sex in the sand; the next they are clawing at each other’s throat, going for the kill. Frances and Tichnell are superb actors who work well together and make you believe everything they say and do. But they have been directed (by Cameron Watson) to deliver all their lines at peak level. The non-stop shouting and bellowing gets to be tiresome, even alienating. Fortunately the actors don’t allow the lack of modulation and orchestration to throw them; they soldier on from beginning to end, delivering performances that have many gutsy and memorable moments.
