‘Wild Goose Dreams’ Review: The Border-Defying Bandwidth of Human Connection

As the sounds of Drake’s “Hotline Bling” and Doja Cat's “Cyber Sex” fill the Roberts Studio Theatre at the The Calderwood Pavilion before SpeakEasy Stage Company’s production of “Wild Goose Dreams,” it’s hard to imagine how these songs could relate to a play about North Korea. But in the hands of playwright Hansol Jung and with the direction of Seonjae Kim, the seemingly contrasting elements come together seamlessly. “Wild Goose Dreams” weaves together serious themes of isolation, family, and digital communication with moments of levity at a break-neck pace. This tonal whiplash illuminates a side of North Korea that is rarely seen in the mainstream and highlights the joy and humor of a protagonist who reflects the complexities of her home country.

“Wild Goose Dreams” follows a young woman and recent North Korean defector, Nanhee, and Minsung, a lonely “goose father” who works at Samsung to provide for his wife and teenage daughter while they live in America. Nanhee is haunted by her past and struggling to adapt to her new life in the South, and Minsung has difficulty connecting with his wife and daughter whose lives are far removed from his in South Korea. Both Minsung and Nanhee feel the isolation that their far away families create and this loneliness leads them to strike up an unlikely connection that begins online.

The online space is a difficult terrain to depict on stage without coming across as overbearing or ostentatious. “Wild Goose Dreams” faces the challenge by representing a chorus of online noise with a group of actors talking over each other, announcing headlines, and advertising dating apps in loud clothing and louder voices that combine to create a mobile maelstrom. The online chorus is nauseating enough to make anyone want to unplug, accurately depicting the chatter and restlessness that Minsung and Nanhee feel in their otherwise quiet lives.

“Wild Goose Dreams” takes place in various indoor spaces, and differences in setting are demarcated in a simple way — chorus members move gauzy neon frames to separate rooms. Set designer Crystal Tiala’s fabric sculptures are visually intriguing even if, at times, their rearrangement by actors during scenes is unnecessary and somewhat distracting. However, these walls of translucent colorful fabric on top of the signs for different storefronts adds to the feeling that the characters are tightly packed yet isolated, and the motion of their surroundings reflects the transient quality of Nanhee’s and Minsung’s current situations. In addition to the vibrant sets, sound designer George Cooke’s naturalistic effects add to the atmosphere, though a few uses are abrupt and prevent the emotional resonance of scenes to sit. Supervised by Dominique D. Burford, a variety of penguin props are used to depict Nanhee’s nightmares, and their arts-and-crafts appearance bring fun and absurdity to these darker moments.

The frenzied moments that occupy much of the first half of “Wild Goose Dreams” are countered by quieter, longer scenes that take place at night between the lead characters. Actors Eunji Lim (Yoo Nanhee) and Jeffrey Song (Guk Minsung) display great candidness and delicacy in these tender moments between their characters, which helps the audience root for their unordinary pairing. Other standout performances include the ebullient Amanda Centeno, who plays Heejin, Minsung’s loud and precocious daughter, and Fady Demian as the stoic and charismatic digital Minsung.

The core of “Wild Goose Dreams”’s story could have been easily lost in the whirlwind of the graphic moving sets, the online avatars popping in and out without subtlety, and the several representations of penguins. However, the story remains grounded, which is a testament to the strength of Hansol Jung’s writing, director Seonjae Kim’s ability to wrangle such an expansive plot, and the cast's dedication to the heart of this play. Although “Wild Goose Dreams” takes place in the South, its depiction of a connection between South Korean Minsung and North Korean defector Nanhee highlights the multitude of emotions that North Koreans experience beyond oppression and pain. As Nanhee says in a particularly affecting scene, North Koreans know how to fall in love, too.