Take a deep dive into South Korean seas in ‘Past Lives’ precursor ‘Endlings’

Celine Song‘s Endlings, now playing at Hedgerow Theatre Company, is all about location, location, location.

We begin on the South Korean island of Man-Jae with three elderly haenyeo, women who dive into the sea daily for hours, to harvest seafood they sell to earn their livelihoods.

Han Sol, Go Min, and Sook Ja, in their 90s, 80s, and 70s, respectively, have been doing this taxing job for decades. When they’re not diving or reminiscing about haenyeos lost to treacherous conditions while cleaning seaweed and clams, they’re at home taking aspirin for their aches and watching TV.

Their husbands have died and their children have left home — at their mothers’ insistence — in search of better real estate and, in theory, a better life.

This is where Song‘s own history as a South Korean immigrant emerges, tangled up like seaweed in the haenyeos’ story.

Using her life as source material is an artistic practice Song cultivated to much acclaim in her 2023 film Past Lives. In Endlings, first performed in 2019, she inserts herself into the play as the younger South Korean woman Ha Young (an earnest Sarah Shin) who labors to develop a play about haenyeo.

Ha Young secures financial support to write a new play about the haenyeo, but doesn’t “want to sell my skin for theater.” She wants to resist the hunger of white audiences and producers who crave exoticism and stories of the other.

She has previously avoided this by writing plays about white people and their concerns, sidestepping her identity altogether. While she is drawn to write a play that puts her Korean heritage on display, Ha Young remains concerned this is a “white flag” of submission.

Endlings is a cerebral, metatheatrical work that overflows in 90-minutes to ruminate on themes of who gets to be remembered, what stories get to be told, and the fractured nature of immigrant identity. The play’s many priorities don’t neatly coalesce, but it’s hard to fault Song for her attempt at expansiveness. She wants this play and its women to take up space.

There are turtle puppets and underwater dream sequences with talking clams (puppetry by the Big Howl/Keven Kelly and Patrick Ahearn). We jump from a Korean beach to a one-bedroom apartment in NYC, watch a White Play about White People with Ha Young and her White Husband. Song surreally collides the two worlds of Man-Jae and Manhattan; the haenyeo infiltrate a subway car, where Ha Young sits, to perform a raucous “show time” routine.

The play is helpfully balanced with quieter, more contemplative scenes. Song is especially adept at crafting powerful monologues; Tuyết Thị Phạm as Go Min is given several of these heartbreaking and authentic moments, which she nimbly tackles with deep passion.

Director Kalina Ko embraces this chaos and lifts up the humor while navigating the somber, oceanic depths and complex ideas. Scenic designer Marie Laster’s initial beach scene is plain, with a few sandy rocks and netting to introduce us to Man-Jae. Her work is more evocative when the three haenyos’ modest homes are revealed: thin wood frames, with satellite dishes, shelving, and buckets to house what little clothing and personal items the women own.

Lily Fossner’s lighting helps to draw the eye and ground us between the locales, making great use of spotlights and moody lighting to differentiate the oppositional worlds of Man-Jae and Manhattan.

The efficacy of Ko’s decisions is uneven — particularly in casting a distractingly-young gray choi. Though choi brings a brightness that suits the primping 70-year-old Sook Ja, it’s not enough to make one forget they’re clearly a young person.

Paired with the naturally comedic Shigeko Sara Suga as Han Sol and Pham, who are more believably aged up, choi stands out for the wrong reasons. Happily, the trio still achieve a natural chemistry.

Endlings is pleasing but repetitious, and both the haenyeos’ and Ha Young‘s trajectories feel under-explored as a result. We don’t have enough time in either world. It’s difficult to tell if the repetition is because Song doesn’t trust the audience will understand her story and inner conflict.

Still, this fine production is a small pearl, particularly at a time when immigrant stories are needed more than ever. They deserve more real estate.

(Community/Arts) Endlings is a cerebral, metatheatrical work where playwright Celine Song‘s history as a South Korean immigrant gets tangled up like seaweed in the story of three haenyeos.

⌚️ Through June 1,📍 64 Rose Valley Rd, Media, 🌐 hedgerowtheatre.org

Theater reviews are produced independently by The Inquirer without editorial input by their sponsor, Visit Philadelphia.