Eskew to the Rescue

CARING FOR BABY D
Theater founder rates ace high as an intuitive director
by Steve Eskew

“I like character-driven drama and I’m also drawn to plays that are psychologically on the dark side,” declares Lori Obradovich, artistic director and founder of Baby D productions. “I’m afraid I’m also a bit of a cynic.”

Baby D’s new season opened with Eric Bogasian’s Talk Radio, featuring a shock jock named Barry Champlain who beats the airwaves with black, hard-edged cynicism.

Two years ago, Baby D produced Bogasian’s Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll, the thesis of which pretty much pronounces America as Schizoid.

As much as she admires his thought-provoking intellect, Obradovich refuses to restrict her philosophy to Bogasian’s pessimism; the proverbial glass remains, after all only half empty.

Last season her impeccable directorial choices for Edward Albee’s A Delicate Balance prompted me to praise her innate ability to uncover the playwright’s obscured optimism in order to reveal his characters’ profound enlightenments.

Obradovich had postponed our scheduled chat of the previous day because a friend, whose cat was slated to be put down, needed her. As it turns out, that kind of mission defines a part of her nature.

Sitting in the sunny afternoon delight of Caffeine Dreams‘ bountiful garden and sipping a mocha beverage from a bright red cup, the petite and externally shy Obradovich peeked over the top of sunglasses as she spoke. She explained how her eclectic experience in the Omaha theater circuit (including her tenure as a drama teaching assistant at Central High and later as a professional actress) had evolved into the birth of Baby D.

Delivered unto our theater world during the autumn of 2001, Obradovich’s tiny but mighty playhouse became the namesake of her deceased sister, Dianne, whose nickname had been Baby D.

“I know it sounds crazy but, one morning over coffee as I was deliberating over a name for the theater,” Obradovich recalled, “I felt a sort of internal slap inside my head, and then I felt my sister’s voice whisper, ‘Name it after me.’”

Much like the theater’s naming, Obradovich relies on something internal when it comes to script selections. Her adeptness at identifying with cerebral scripts never results from research, and she vehemently refuses to read a word about the play under consideration or to watch its movie version, if one exists.

“I ask the same of my casts. It simply seems dishonest,” she said. “Theater must be true. I’m a truth detector. I can detect dishonesty from an improper movement, a single word, a tone.”

Directors like Obradovich who rely on intuition and instinct basically ignore the academic rule books, working from the gut and the heart, unconsciously uncovering the soul of the art. Not fully appreciating the treasures she possesses, her face flushed and her intense black eyes cast downward as she reluctantly considered the possibility that she could be a natural.

“I do develop my vision from an initial reading of the script,” Obradovich said. “Then during [the process of interpreting] the script, I guess I really do count completely on instinct.”

Perhaps the instinctual ligature rooted within the landscapes of her mind could also help explain her compulsive reverence to animals. Devoted to the cause and effect of neutering and spaying canines and felines, her Buddhist faith allows her to even chant for animals, truly believing that they have souls.

Obradovich’s friend and colleague of many years, photographer Mary Redelfs, joined us and explained that it was her cat, Trouble, that had been scheduled to be euthanized the day before. She then happily reported that the feline remains not only among the living but has shown signs of improvement.

“Lori talked me out of it,” she said.

“Sure did,” Obradovich admitted. “I looked into its eyes –– it’s soul wasn’t ready yet.”

Suddenly excusing herself for a moment, Obradovich  wandered off to take in the coffee house’s garden.

Redelfs seized the opportunity to praise her friend’s directorial techniques, summing it all up quite succinctly: “Lori’s very parental. She pushes and pushes. What can we do to make things better? is basically what she’s all about.

Later Obradovich admitted to the uncertainty of personal and professional perfectionism, questioning her direction in life and her future in theater.

“I don’t believe a person should be defined by their work, but by who they are,” she said. “I sense a deep lack of fulfillment. People constantly tell me they’d like to uncover the mystery of what makes me tick. If anyone does, I hope they fill me in. I find myself thoroughly confusing.”

Is she waiting for another “slap” inside her head? A sort of Buddhist enlightenment?

“Something like that. Yeah. And until then I guess I’ll be restless.”