Review: GableStage Builds a Whole World Around One-Woman 'Weather Girl'

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Weather: Jamie Godwin's projections reflect a realistic karaoke bar and the words to "Escape" ("The PIna Colada Song"). (Photo by Magnus Stark, courtesy of GableStage)

A year ago, director Nicole Stodard saw Brian Watkins' off-Broadway play "Weather Girl" at St. Ann's Warehouse in Brooklyn. Artistic Director Bari Newport had seen it, too, and wanted to stage it at GableStage. She promptly secured the rights.

Now, Stodard, who founded Fort Lauderdale company Thinking Cap Theatre, is directing the solo drama at GableStage. Neither knew at the time that they would work together on the show.

The production they saw in New York was stark and simple. At GableStage, it is anything but. Stodard, scenic designer Frank J. Oliva, lighting designer Jessica Winward, and projection designer Jamie Godwin have created something more than a pretty face with a set that fully holds equal sway.

Three screens, live camera feeds and projections keep the space changing around actress Ella Olesen as TV weather girl Stacey Gross. She may be alone onstage for 75 minutes, but she has a companion.

Olesen has plenty of company in Watkins’ script, too. As Stacey tells her story, Olesen, a Vancouver Island native based in New York, slips into the voices and characters:  there's Jerry, the station manager who is ecstatic about a promotion Stacey has gotten to Phoenix; Stacey is appalled by the idea of going to the desert. 

There's Hilary, her co-worker and JP, the camera operator with his Monster Energy drink; the tech bro Stacey has accepted a date with and calls Mark throughout because she can’t remember his name. Then there is Magdalena, Stacey's homeless mother who lives on the street behind a fast-food chicken chain. 

On the surface, “Weather Girl” appears like a dark comedy about a cheerful TV California forecaster whose life is coming apart. But it is as covered up as Stacey's television makeup. When we first meet the character, she’s standing in front of a burning house, waiting for the studio anchors to toss to her while they chat about a baby hippo at the zoo. The fire is real; she just needs to keep smiling. 

From there, Watkins takes Stacey into stranger territory, turning her personal crisis into a commentary on climate change and how people continue to carry on as the world burns. That fire is never far from Stacey and it keeps closing in. Stodard’s production won’t let the fire stay outside the story. 

Oliva’s set has three black circles on the floor, sometimes ringed in red or white light. They give Olesen different areas to play: the TV studio, a late-night dance club, the tech bro’s spotless bachelor pad, the scene of a car crash, and her mother’s encampment. Godwin's three screen projections keep changing what surrounds her. California smoke rolls in. Parking lot lights appear. Four livestream cameras tucked in the ceiling and not noticeable to the audience follow Olesen. At times, her face is planted against projections of a raging California fire. The close-ups and shadows give the images a noirish feel, making her look like a fading star in an old Hollywood film.

Jennifer Wake’s set dressing and props include the large, insulated water bottle with a straw that Stacey quietly admits she keeps filling with cheap Prosecco. The Violent Femmes’ “Blister in the Sun” turns up in Bree-Anna Obst’s sound design. With California burning on the screens, the title takes on another meaning.

Olesen, a cross between Meg Ryan and Cameron Diaz, captures the divide between what Stacey feels and what people see. Watkins' script sometimes has the rhythm of stand-up comedy. When things get too absurd or heavy, a one liner pops in and Olesen knows how to do the set up, and then, the mic drop.

The play takes an existential turn when Stacey chases down her mother. Magdalena may be the closest thing to Mother Earth. She fills a collection of empty cups and jars with water and tells Stacey it was there all along, if she would only listen for it.

It’s easy to get caught up in the smoke and mirrors of Watkins' “Weather Girl,” and that may be exactly the point. A show that moves from workplace jokes to wildfires, and a homeless mother who panhandles to sing karaoke and conjures water can be a hard sell. Yet GableStage has given Stacey Gross and Ella Olesen a big, fiery world to play in. This "Weather Girl" may be a one-woman show, but it's anything but a solo production.

WHAT: "Weather Girl" by Brian Watkins

WHERE: GableStage in the Biltmore Hotel, 1200 Anastasia Ave., Coral Gables 

WHEN: 7:30 p.m. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. 2 p.m. Wednesday and Sunday. 2 and 7:30 p.m., Saturday, Oct. 17. Through Sunday, Oct. 18.

COST: $95, $85, $80, $70 and $60, including fees.

INFORMATION: 305-445-1119 or gablestage.org

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