Reviews

San Francisco Examiner - Tuesday, December 10, 2002

Two guys, their world and a homespun play

By Lisa Katz

Review:  SAY RAY - A HOLIDAY MIRACLE

Ron Jones and Michael Rice aren't just any two guys putting on a show.  Jones is Rice's basketball coach at the Recreation Center for then Handicapped in the Sunset.  He's also the creator - and master storyteller - behind "Say Ray - A Holiday Miracle" onstage at The Marsh.

The name belies the production, which has anything but after-school special saccharine- or pretensions.  It's a funny, no-frills show about two good-humored guys who've been friends for 25 years.  One happens to be mentally disabled, the other clearly has a penchant for theater.

At the onset of this 90-minute show, Jones warns the audience about what's to come:  "It's going to be all over the place," he says, adding, "But you can handle it."

The "Ray" in the show's title is Ray Fernandez, a mentally disabled man who lives in a board-and-care home who gets an inheritance.  The board-and-care operators become his legal guardians, and they go off on a trip in a big Cadillac to Mexico, where among other things, Ray is mistaken for Jesus Christ.

With props limited to a couple of chairs, in this show within a show, Jones expertly tells the story of Ray's journey, portraying all of the characters except Ray - that's Rice's domain.

Yet the play is not really the thing here.  While Ray's story has many fascinating moments, the process of getting through it is what's so invigorating.

For example, there's a seemingly endless string of amusing, informative asides, most centering on Rice and Jones themselves - not their characters in the story.  They muse on Rice's interest in dirty videos and his deep understanding of the MUNI system.  Jones tells about how life for mentally disabled people changed dramatically when Ronald Reagan was president in the 1980s. 

The show even has audience participation.  During a scene in Uruapan, the Mexican town where Ray and his cohorts travel, some willing folks become the village dentist and a tourist official.  (At Saturday's performance, no one volunteered to be the town coffin maker, so Rice stepped into the role.)

Cleverly shaped by director David Ford - who previously worked with Jones on 2000's successful one-man show "Buddha Blues" - "Say Ray" is ultimately a rich piece of theater that's delightfully animated.

At one point, when the travelers run out of money, they decide to rob a bank.  The scene is among the show's most vivid, mostly because of a preface in which Jones gives actor Rice a pep talk to help him get through it.  Rice hates negativity and yelling, which are the mainstay of the scene. The guys pull it of with finesse - as stylishly as any basketball play they'd perfect for competition.

While "Say Ray" is billed as a holiday show - following each performance are refreshments and caroling - it's really a story for all seasons.  Happily there aren't any heavy-handed lessons to be learned.  But there are some wonderful moments with some people you might have not taken the time to get to know.

Other Comments on Ron Jones' Work:

“What Sports and Life Should be About…” 
Bob Lypsyte, New York Times

 “…Tells Perhaps the Most Important Story of our Time.”
Studs Terkel 

“A Triumph!”
Der Spiegel

 “A Cult Legend…”
Sallie Tisdale Harpers

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San Francisco Bay Guardian, July 20, 2000 

No Limits   Ron Jones (with help from David Ford) delivers a rich, uplifting Buddha Blues.  By Brad Rosenstein

Native San Franciscans must surely be the rarest species of local fauna, so in the this city of refugees it's a distinct pleasure to hear from someone whose experience of the place predates last Tuesday.  Writer-performer Ron Jones opens his Buddha Blues with a striking reminiscence of the Sunset, when whole families would buy up a block and create a world of their own.  The neighbors' concern for one another escalates to a shocking degree in Jones's hair-raising opening tale, a splendid introduction to man whose life is always taking him by surprise.

Although he's an award-winning writer who has enjoyed significant success in Europe, Jones has had a harder time in his own environs.  When his uncompromising nature loses him one educational job after another, his last hope of employment is as a basketball coach for the local Special Olympics team.  Despite a rough start the match seems literally made in heaven, and to his amazement even after 20 years Jones and his ragtag players continue to learn from one another about the true nature of competition, teamwork, and victory.

The disabled-playing-basketball material, which makes up the bulk of the evening, could easily become sappy, pat, or offensive, but Jones is an unassuming charmer who paints a compassionate, clear-eyed picture of his charges and himself.  Despite some uncertainties and rough edges as a performer, Jones warms to the task, and when he and his team simultaneously realize the magic in their "limitations" you're ready to cheer.  Director David Ford, an indispensable guru to some of the Bay Area's finest solo performers, again conjures gold here, particularly in Jones's jazzy syncopations with flutist and saxophonist David Rhoades.

Despite the show's title, Jones seems neither passive nor blue; instead, he actively pursues his tangible delight in an existence that knows no rules.  He's clearly had his ups and downs, but his tone is one of unsentimental wonder at the parade of riches his life is giving him.  Not all of the evening's strands hang together, but it's an infectiously joyous journey, filled with honesty, acceptance, gravity and humor.