Review: With a spirited talkback, Mixed Blood’s ‘Equitable Dinners’ redefines dinner theater

Bothered and frustrated, actor Pedro Bayon paces the backroom of a St. Paul home with the orneriness of a prizefighter. He skulks and scowls, punching the air as all his dead-end thoughts crash like waves against the rocks in his head.

His character, a divorced father alone with his computer, phone and other devices, has been trying to log into Spotify but has had no luck. He pings his 17-year-old nephew, but which teenager is going to answer a cold call? As he tries to reach others, including his daughter, the acute nature of his isolation becomes clear. Despite all the technology that was supposed to make it easier to connect to loved ones, he is alienated from them on what turns out to be a milestone day in his life.

Bayon stars in “Parts,” a new solo show written by James Anthony Tyler and staged with earthy menace by Amanda White. What’s unique about “Parts” is the venue and what follows the performance. The no-fuss 25-minute work, which plays out in select homes across Minnesota over the next three months, is followed by a longer discussion over a meal.

It is the first of a series of “Equitable Dinners” put on by Mixed Blood Theatre that formalizes the post-play discussion. In a regular theater outing, one might debrief in a talkback or on the ride home. Mixed Blood’s concept gathers strangers to break the ice while breaking bread. It’s all part of a larger push to build social understanding and civic muscle.

“The surgeon general has warned of an epidemic of loneliness, and that’s going to have serious consequences not only for our interpersonal relations but for our democracy,” said Mark Valdez, Mixed Blood’s artistic director.

He noted that loneliness is associated with not only a slew of negative health consequences in individuals but also in the larger society.

“Parts” kicks off a yearlong series of these shows, each running for a season, or a few months, in homes hosted by Mixed Blood patrons and volunteers. There are some larger confabs as well, including one on Nov. 18 for an audience of 50 hosted by St. Mark’s Cathedral in Minneapolis. “Parts” centers on mental health. Subsequent plays will address affordable housing, climate resilience and racial equity, all followed by discussions.

A veteran performer with finely honed craft, Bayon imbued the character with a subterranean rage that explodes in volcanic outbursts. And because of how close the audience sits — after the performance the actor said he could feel the audience breathing on him — it feels like everyone is stirring in a carbonated bottle that’s been violently shaken and the cork is about to come off.

After Bayon performed, the 12-member audience broke into two self-selected groups that went to separate tables to nosh on spanakopita, grilled vegetables and olive oil pound cake topped with a compote of fresh berries. (The menu will vary from home to home. Valdez hosted and prepared Wednesday’s vegetarian fare.)

My table was populated by a veteran arts administrator, a retired social worker and her wife, another therapist and a former theater founder. Valdez guided the discussion with open-ended questions. For Roxanne Cornell, a social entrepreneur and retired therapist, the play struck a note of pain as Bayon’s portrayal showed how people become invisible and discarded as they age.

Sandy Agustin, an arts executive who now works as end-of-life doula, spoke of the failure of socializing men. With its anger and rage, the play illustrated threads that lead to violence and conspiracy theories.

Jen Polzin, CEO of a Twin Cities social service organization, chimed in about how to learn authentic strength and vulnerability in a world of presumptions.

Bayon’s character also was acutely out of place in a world where rapid change, not just in technology but in how we relate to each other, made him feel irrelevant. What’s this about calling people by their pronouns, he wondered. What’s this about trans rights?

Heather Stone, a co-founder of two Twin Cities theaters, felt put off by the character’s harsh language and lack of understanding. The man did not have to tools to adapt and cope, and his frustration came out as genuine ignorance.

The discussion is therapeutic but is not therapy, Katy Vernon, the ukulele songbird who also works in communication and development at Mixed Blood, reminded everyone. One of the principles behind the event is that people become unsettled in a relatively safe space so that they are able to hear and relate to someone who might be totally different from them.

Patrons shared intimate stories about their families and lives, with Valdez asking questions about how to build and rebuild connections among neighbors and with strangers. Because Wednesday’s post-show discussion ran nearly three times longer than the show, the talkback seemed like the main event.

“If we want to disrupt injustice, we have to start by learning to talk with each other about complex things,” Valdez said. “We’re trying to move people from their heads to their hearts.”

Where: Various homes throughout Minnesota.

When: Through spring 2025.

Tickets: Free under Mixed Blood’s Radical Hospitality program but donations are accepted. mixedblood.com. 612-338-6131.