From the Garden of Eden, where the forbidden fruit is popularly represented as an apple, to Sir Isaac Newton's lightbulb moment, when he supposedly came up with the law of gravity after being bonked on the head by an apple, the fruit of the genus Malus has storied meaning in our culture.
With "Bina's Six Apples," playwright Lloyd Suh argues for another riff from this tree of knowledge. In Suh's big-hearted play that had its world premiere Friday at Minneapolis' Children's Theatre Company, the fruits are a source of wonder and nourishment. They exert a power like magic beads. And they help keep a resilient, smart and resourceful 10-year-old on the path to a hoped-for family reunion.
Well-acted and affecting, "Bina's" is set in 1950 in a Korea torn by war when a fearful father calls out in darkness for his daughter. He finds her sitting under an apple tree as the lights come up. Father (Albert Park) tells Bina (Olivia Lampert) that the war is getting closer and the family must leave immediately for a two-day trip by foot to Busan, the port city 70 miles south that's also known as Pusan.
Bina is reluctant.
"I hate the ocean," Bina tells him.
"You love the ocean!" Father replies.
"I hate Busan," Bina continues.
"You've never even seen it."
"I hate war."
Out of rejoinders, Father falls silent for a few beats, then fumbles for words.
"I, do, too, Bina."
That telling triptych captures the poetic tone of Suh's deceptively simple one-act, which runs for 75 minutes. Although this original must-see work takes place at the Children's Theatre, you don't need a child companion as an excuse to see it. Take your adult self with a (vaccinated and masked) friend or two.
The design elements all help to evoke the emotions and world of the play. The action takes place on Jiyoun Chang's spare set that's made up of gray wall panels with props wheeled in on hand carts, all of which are also lit by Chang. Junghyun Georgia Lee designed the drab, olive-tinged costumes and Fabian Obispo did the music and sound design.
Director Eric Ting stages "Bina's" with propulsive but spare lyricism that matches Suh's elegant writing. And movement director Marcela Lorca's refugee pageant helps to create a tableau of displacement.
"Bina's" is as much play as fable. The half-dozen apples that the child carries in her backpack, each intended for a family member in the fleeing party, bear metaphorical weight. The fruits also exert a pull on the people Bina encounters after a bomb blast separates her from her family.