A few miles up the road from my house stands the old West Jordan Sugar Factory, a relic of a nearly forgotten Utah industry. Yes, kids, we used to make sugar in this state! Not from sugar cane, as you might expect, but from a type of beet that was grown all over the southern end of the Salt Lake Valley. Those days ended around the time of my birth, though, and for as long as I can remember, that old factory, with its twin silos and long, narrow warehouses, has been nothing more than a shuttered and decaying landmark. But about a decade ago, news that the old freight line running past the place was going to be repurposed for the TRAX light-rail transit system sparked a new interest in that area, and wildly optimistic development plans were soon flying. The old industrial complex, it was said, would soon become the heart of a retail node, filled with shops, restaurants, art galleries, and entertainment venues.

Fast-forward to the present. The Mid-Valley TRAX line is under construction and due to open about a year from now, and the old factory, while still mostly ramshackle and uninhabitable, has had its first tenant for a couple of years, a community theater group called the Sugar Factory Playhouse. (My local readers probably know where I’m going with this story, if they’ve been following the news lately, but I ask your indulgence. Everyone keep reading, please…)

This past week, The Girlfriend and I, along with the group of friends we like to call the Usual Suspects, were looking forward to attending our first performance at the Sugar Factory Playhouse; one of the Suspects, the inimitable Geoff Richards, has a role in the SFP’s production of a play called See How They Run, and his girl Anastasia had secretly arranged for the rest of us to show up on opening night to surprise and support him. We were only three days out from the premiere when Anne emailed with a news item she’d just spotted: the city council has condemned the old factory building, ostensibly because of concerns that a brick wall was seismically unsound, i.e., they’re worried it could collapse during an earthquake. (Personally, I think that’s just a cover story for something more political, but this perhaps isn’t the place or time to elaborate on that.)

It was touch-and-go for a frantic couple of days while the theater group tried to negotiate with the West Jordan council, and then to find a new venue when the city refused to budge. The Usual Suspects were left hanging, too, since we didn’t know whether the play was going to happen or not. Finally, the day before the scheduled opening, we got the word that a new venue had been secured; the neighboring town of Midvale had generously offered its theater facility to the displaced sugar-factory players, and everything was back on track.

The Usual Suspects were in the front row for the first performance on Thursday night, just as we’d planned, and everything went off without a hitch. For the most part, anyhow — the stage at the Sugar Factory was 20 feet wider than the one at the Midvale Performing Arts Center (actually the former city hall, a nifty art deco-styled building in the town’s historic district), so the set had been drastically cut down, and there were times when the actors seemed a little cramped by the new configuration. That was a minor complaint, though, and I’m certain the cast will have adapted by now.

See How They Run is an English farce, which means there’s lots of broad accents, mistaken identities, silly misunderstandings, and general running around. Set in a small-town vicar’s home shortly after the end of World War II, the action revolves around the vicar’s American wife and a friend from her former acting days, now a US soldier; a visiting bishop; a Russian spy who’s escaped from the nearby army base; and the town busybody who loses all her inhibitions after receiving an accidental sock in the jaw and drinking a bottle of cooking sherry. Geoff appears in the third act as a bobby who’s trying to catch the Russian and make sense of all the shenanigans.

I tend to find farces exhausting and tedious, but this one hums along pretty nicely, and the entire cast manages to strike the optimum balance between energetic and frantic. Geoff enthusiastically throws himself into his role (he even agreed to have his hair cut!), and SFP regular Kate Bedore is a delight as Miss Skillon, the sherry-swilling troublemaker. Anne and I and (as far as I could tell) the rest our friends all thoroughly enjoyed the evening.

So, here at long last is my point: See How They Run continues on Mondays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays through the 29th, with the exception of Friday the 26th (there was already something scheduled in the venue for that evening). The play is a lot of fun, and after all the BS this troupe has endured, they could use some support. So to all my local readers, please, forget about seeing Avatar for a fifth time and go check out some live theater instead; the 3D effect is far more impressive, believe me.

Showtimes and other details about the production can be found at the Sugar Factory Playhouse website. Tickets are available at the West Jordan location of Macey’s grocery store, or at the door.

As for the future of the old Sugar Factory, that’s anybody’s guess, although at least one article I’ve read says it’s closed for good. Which means it’ll probably be scheduled for demolition soon, another piece of local history thrown away in favor of a new strip mall or subdivision. And my Loyal Readers know how I feel about that…

If you’re interested, this site has some information about the place, and a few photos, as well as a nice background piece on Utah’s sugar-beet industry.