Adam KuveNiemannn and Julia McNeal Photo by David Allen

For the next two hours and 45 minutes or so, three actors–Julia McNeal, Rachel Clausen and Adam KuveNiemann–take on a multitude of roles to tell this richly detailed story (perhaps too richly detailed) that hearkens back to ancient Slavic tales of a murderous witch named Baba Yaga. But like many women who wield power, Baba Yaga is not only feared; she may be misunderstood. One of the best moments in Yaga occurs when we are presented with a precis of different fairy tales–Snow White, Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty–but with the witches' point of view represented to add context to those stories.

KuveNiemann plays both the student who goes missing and the private eye who is searching for him. After some initial sleuthing, he shows up at the local police department, where he accosts the young detective (played by Clausen) who has run into a dead end, almost forcing himself on her in an ultimately successful attempt to persuade her to partner with him in the investigation. Together they journey down the rabbit hole of clues that lead them into a world of dark secrets and pseudo-mystical experiences.

The set, by Carlos Aceves, sets an appropriately spooky mood. Jumbles of chairs at stage left and right seem to represent the missing victims of Baba Yaga. Upstage is a row of branchless birch trunks that put me in mind of bleached bones, something that turns out to be–appropriately–connected to the play, for the professor (McNeal) is an expert in osteology, the study of bones. Kurt Landisman's lighting reinforces the cryptic nature of the story, with large areas left in shadow, and angular cues that somehow suggest menace.

The play itself dives a little too deeply into the Slavic folklore at the expense of the core story of the missing young man and his fate. It works on one level–always keeping us guessing about who is who, and what their unspoken motives might be–but overall the text is a bit muddy, and the relationship between the PI and the police detective seems forced and completely unrealistic. In real life, police generally tend to distrust (or envy) private investigators, and often shut them out of police business. It doesn't help that KuveNiemann (as the PI) and Clausen (as the police detective) have zero chemistry. (Given the show's climax, their emotional distance makes more sense, but their lack of real connection grates nonetheless.)

The best part of Yaga is the performance by Julia McNeal, who plays all the older characters–Baba Yaga, the small town "witch" who provides naturopathic remedies and helps young girls who get "in trouble"; the professor's aged mother residing in an assisted living facility; and the proprietor of the local diner. In each role, she brings her own sense of power, giving dimension and color to these women. No matter where each woman lies on the socio-economic scale, McNeal finds a way to make their inherent value as humans come shining through.

I wish I could say the same for KuveNiemann and Clausen. Though Clausen does have some interesting moments, I rarely thought of either of them as their characters, but rather as actors clearly struggling to inhabit their characters. Instead of shouting their lines and mugging in the hope that we will ignore their indicating who they are, they fail in their attempts to be the characters they are attempting to portray.

Yaga is filled with subtext about feminism that deserves to be expressed, but an overwrought script and two lackluster performances left me feeling as cold as a witch's heart.

Yaga runs through November 3, 2024, at Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Avenue, Mill Valley CA. Performances are Tuesdays-Sundays at 7:30pm, with matinees Saturdays and Sundays at 2:00pm. Tickets range from $30-$85 (plus fees). For tickets and information, please visit www.marintheatre.org or call the box office at 415-388-5208.