Purfit Protein Powder Review, Plus My Favorite Green Smoothie Recipe!by Randi / February 10, 2014
The supremely entertaining new musical “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love & Murder” is one of the most exciting new shows this Broadway season. Halting the omnipresent influx of jukebox musicals and, more importantly, making murder hilarious, “Gentleman’s Guide” will likely be a main player at the Tony Awards this June. Despite its somewhat unseemly subject matter, it is an old-fashioned and very British show.
The dark comedy concerns a young man named Monty Navarro, who is finally told of his birthright: that he is related to the wealthy D’Ysquith clan, and ninth in line to inherit its dukedom. (The name is pronounced like ‘dies quick’. So funny.) Monty, who seems like a well-mannered, kindhearted gentleman, begins a journey to become part of the family that quickly morphs into a killing spree.
The dark comedy concerns a young man named Monty Navarro, who is finally told of his birthright: that he is related to the wealthy D’Ysquith clan, and ninth in line to inherit its dukedom. (The name is pronounced like ‘dies quick’. So funny.) Monty, who seems like a well-mannered, kindhearted gentleman, begins a journey to become part of the family that quickly morphs into a killing spree.
Monty initially reaches out to the D’Ysquiths to bond in normal ways, but the posh elitists rebuff him. After such terrible treatment, Monty sets out to methodically, and humorously, murder each of the 8 relatives ahead of him in succession.
This surprising turn of events works because Monty is so charming, and the actor playing him, Bryce Pinkham, manipulates the pacing so well. But the real star of the show, and its biggest selling point, and the main reason to see it, is Jefferson Mays. The well respected Tony-winning actor (for 2003’s “I Am My Own Wife”) plays all eight of the doomed D’Ysquith family members, men and women, young and old. He quickly switches from the old priest (whose death showcases my favorite ridiculous staging) to young bicurious student to middle-aged actress, and he sells each character just as eight individual actors could. As each death occurs, one gets nervous that soon Mays won’t be onstage anymore. That would be a shame. (Luckily, a clever end twist and a sort of cliffhanger ending make sure that this doesn’t happen.)
Mays is truly spectacular, particularly as the young, too trusting, slightly doofy Oxbridge student who takes a fast and overzealous liking to Monty. Sadly, Henry D’Ysquith has a weakness too obvious and too delicious for Monty to ignore: his penchant for beekeeping. It is probably also obvious that his death is one of the funniest.
The lovably silly character of Henry gives Mays and Pinkham their most enjoyable song and what I thought was the highlight of the show. The song “Better With A Man” has Monty being a little overly friendly to the very obviously receptive Henry. While they sing ostensibly about friendship, the choreography clearly says otherwise, and the number verges into pure slapstick. It’s so wrong, and so funny.
The other highlight musically is a pas de trois between Monty, his married lover Sibella, and his new cousin Phoebe, whom he plans to marry. As is customary in love triangles performed on stage, the scene finds Monty trying to hide both women from each other when they both visit his home. Impressive on all counts, the scene showcases the voices of the women and the timing of Pinkham better than any other.
However, aside from these two songs, the music is disappointing. What makes it seem very old-fashioned in the best ways also accounts for its old-fashioned sense musically. Most of the music is not the kind you’d want to listen to outside the Walter Kerr theatre. There are the boring choral bits, where the ensemble sings the same uninspired lines over and over. There are solos that don’t go anywhere and feel as if written as monologues and not as sung pieces. The music often does drive the show’s plot forward, as it should, but it doesn’t do it any better than the words unsung would, which defeats the purpose of making a show into a musical. It’s the kind of show where I would love to see it again, but no way would I ever listen to the cast recording.
Despite the majority of the music being disappointing, the show itself is gold. You feel terrible for laughing and for secretly rooting for Monty, because he doesn’t seem like a bad guy (despite everything to the contrary). I love that the show boasts so much new talent, and that it’s not like anything else recently on Broadway. If you have the chance to see it, you won’t regret it. I’m sure Mays will be a strong contender come Tony night, but all I hope is that the show’s Tony performance is “Better With A Man” (cross your fingers!).
This surprising turn of events works because Monty is so charming, and the actor playing him, Bryce Pinkham, manipulates the pacing so well. But the real star of the show, and its biggest selling point, and the main reason to see it, is Jefferson Mays. The well respected Tony-winning actor (for 2003’s “I Am My Own Wife”) plays all eight of the doomed D’Ysquith family members, men and women, young and old. He quickly switches from the old priest (whose death showcases my favorite ridiculous staging) to young bicurious student to middle-aged actress, and he sells each character just as eight individual actors could. As each death occurs, one gets nervous that soon Mays won’t be onstage anymore. That would be a shame. (Luckily, a clever end twist and a sort of cliffhanger ending make sure that this doesn’t happen.)
Mays is truly spectacular, particularly as the young, too trusting, slightly doofy Oxbridge student who takes a fast and overzealous liking to Monty. Sadly, Henry D’Ysquith has a weakness too obvious and too delicious for Monty to ignore: his penchant for beekeeping. It is probably also obvious that his death is one of the funniest.
The lovably silly character of Henry gives Mays and Pinkham their most enjoyable song and what I thought was the highlight of the show. The song “Better With A Man” has Monty being a little overly friendly to the very obviously receptive Henry. While they sing ostensibly about friendship, the choreography clearly says otherwise, and the number verges into pure slapstick. It’s so wrong, and so funny.
The other highlight musically is a pas de trois between Monty, his married lover Sibella, and his new cousin Phoebe, whom he plans to marry. As is customary in love triangles performed on stage, the scene finds Monty trying to hide both women from each other when they both visit his home. Impressive on all counts, the scene showcases the voices of the women and the timing of Pinkham better than any other.
However, aside from these two songs, the music is disappointing. What makes it seem very old-fashioned in the best ways also accounts for its old-fashioned sense musically. Most of the music is not the kind you’d want to listen to outside the Walter Kerr theatre. There are the boring choral bits, where the ensemble sings the same uninspired lines over and over. There are solos that don’t go anywhere and feel as if written as monologues and not as sung pieces. The music often does drive the show’s plot forward, as it should, but it doesn’t do it any better than the words unsung would, which defeats the purpose of making a show into a musical. It’s the kind of show where I would love to see it again, but no way would I ever listen to the cast recording.
Despite the majority of the music being disappointing, the show itself is gold. You feel terrible for laughing and for secretly rooting for Monty, because he doesn’t seem like a bad guy (despite everything to the contrary). I love that the show boasts so much new talent, and that it’s not like anything else recently on Broadway. If you have the chance to see it, you won’t regret it. I’m sure Mays will be a strong contender come Tony night, but all I hope is that the show’s Tony performance is “Better With A Man” (cross your fingers!).
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“War Paint” on Broadway: The Good, The Bad, and The Not Ugly Can’t Be Ugly With So Much Makeup Involved
Woot it’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s review is of the Broadway musical “War Paint”, which ends its run on Sunday.
The Broadway musical “War Paint”, which ends its respectable run this weekend, flew in completely under my radar, but once it was on it, I was so hooked. A new musical with a brand-new score, telling the story of two of the greatest women in business, and starring two of the greatest women in musical theatre? Sign me up! Doesn’t that sound just kick you in the shins spit on your neck fantastic? I don’t know how the anticipation of this show was so contained, because in theory it is just the greatest idea ever: Christine Ebersole, Patti LuPone, a new score by Korie and Frankel (who wrote the glorious “Grey Gardens” for Christine), and a biographical tale of cosmetics giants Elizabeth Arden and Helena Rubenstein and their long rivalry? I still can’t get over how incredible it is in theory. In theory.
The Broadway musical “War Paint”, which ends its respectable run this weekend, flew in completely under my radar, but once it was on it, I was so hooked. A new musical with a brand-new score, telling the story of two of the greatest women in business, and starring two of the greatest women in musical theatre? Sign me up! Doesn’t that sound just kick you in the shins spit on your neck fantastic? I don’t know how the anticipation of this show was so contained, because in theory it is just the greatest idea ever: Christine Ebersole, Patti LuPone, a new score by Korie and Frankel (who wrote the glorious “Grey Gardens” for Christine), and a biographical tale of cosmetics giants Elizabeth Arden and Helena Rubenstein and their long rivalry? I still can’t get over how incredible it is in theory. In theory.
GODDAMN QUEEEEENS
While the performances from Ebersole and LuPone were as phenomenal as one could have hoped, the show was decent but lacking. Despite having an out-of-town tryout in Chicago, it felt like it still needed edits and touch-ups. Based on the biographical book by Lindy Woodhead (erma what a name), “War Paint” chronicles Elizabeth Arden’s pink, waspy, lady-like domination of the cosmetics industry and American business world. That is, until Helena Rubenstein, the exotic Jewish immigrant from Poland, with her chic and harder edge and her focus on science, challenged Arden in every way to be her business equal and archrival. I am so in on this premise, because first of all it tells a story about a really crucial business rivalry that spurred even higher growth in the American cosmetics industry, and second of all, that rivalry happened to be between two middle aged women. You rarely get plays or movies that focus on women’s role in business, and if you are lucky enough to get such a story, the sole woman will be young and hot and surrounded by men who can take credit for her success. There’s no way in hell the story would focus on two women, and two older women at that. Yet “War Paint” does the impossible, and that is freaking amazing, and I wish that the show itself was as wonderful as that premise. But even with weaknesses in the score and book, it’s such a treat to be able to witness two legends of musical theatre portray two legends of industry when Hillary isn’t president.
I read some of Lindy Woodhead’s book (erma) when writing this up because I am hella professional, but going into the show I knew nothing about the lives of Rubenstein or Arden except that they were successful businessers whose names still carry significant weight today. Going in cold, I was so pumped to be blown away. However, from the start I could tell that I would be annoyingly unsatisfied. There were moments of greatness – LuPone’s humor, Ebersole’s vulnerability, both of their voices (in SUCH good shape), a few of their songs. But overall, the score was mediocre, the book was a g-d mess (such eye rolling at the dialogue and some unnecessary whole scenes), and the choreography was meh. If I’m sitting in an audience thinking “I could do that choreo” and I’m right? That doesn’t belong on a professional stage.
But really no matter how much I criticize it (and how much there is to criticize), it was amazing to be able to see these two pillars of musical theatre not only again but together. Patti’s vocal placement remains unparalleled. Christine is so lovely and heartbreaking as always. The show was unquestionably worth seeing for these performances, even though I questioned seeing it because I’ve seen both of them in other and better shows. At one moment I thought to myself “dammit they are incredible” and then was like “oh well yeah that’s why there are four Tony Awards up there between the two of them.”
Okay so what’s it about plot-wise and not just historically? It starts with a look inside Arden’s well-oiled machine, her super successful and popular salon with the famous red door, and all the inner workings and workers who keep it moving. Arden had pioneered the lighter touch to makeup to make it okay for higher class women to wear it, mostly tricking them with pink porcelain containers that were responsible for like 90% of a product’s cost. But then this brassy Jewish immigrant with an AMAZ accent comes around with an enticing brand that threatens to take Arden’s top spot in the industry. Whereas Arden’s was pink and soft and old moneyed, Rubenstein’s aesthetic is sleek and chic, black and white, sexual and violent, grabbing the attention of a lot of customers. The two battled back and forth, stealing ideas and secrets, trying to get a similar product out before the other, and most importantly upping their game consistently in their rivalry, which actually benefited everyone.
It was most interesting to see the two strong women reconcile the fact that they are pioneers for strong women in industry, with the fact that their success is coming in an industry telling women they aren’t good enough as is. An actual quote of Rubenstein’s is “There are no ugly women, only lazy ones,” which is HILARIOUS but like, terrible. This provocative conflict between what they represented and what they were actually doing added to all the interesting conflict with each other and the competition that was responsible for a lot of later success, when either could have easily just skated by instead of constantly trying to innovate. There was SO MUCH potential for this story, right?? and I hate that it wasn’t a home run.
One of the biggest problems for me was that Rubenstein’s and Arden’s male companions’ and partners’ storylines and songs take up WAY too much space. Their whole thing reeks of fragile white masculinity and it is so eyeroll through all of it. It made me angry that even in my safe space I couldn’t get away from white men complaining when they might not be in charge of literally every single little bit of the world and oh how terrible it was for them to have (gasp) ladybosses. But more than that, I was furious that it seemed like the creators were seemingly trying to shore up a show about two strong amazing women by adding a B plot about their partners, adding a male story just in case the ignorant masses would be too scandalized by a show only about women. Like the thought that “oh to be safe we need a lot about the men in their lives” was probably the focus of a lot of early discussions. And it made the show worse. Trust female stories to be enough.
Aside from these men, my other big problem with the show was another white man, Charles Revson, who grows up to form Revlon and who in the movie version would be played by that creepy guy who shows up in literally every TV show, Isaac Heller. Revson is responsible for nail polish being so easy and accessible. Early on, he tried to sell his product to both women, who both passed. His bit could have been a short thing just so we knew his name and his deal and that both women passed, and his later enormous success – and his overtaking both Arden and Rubenstein in sales – would have had the same impact on the audience, as we realize oh shit this was probably a big mistake on both their parts. But to have looong boring scenes where he tries to sell his product and then later a whole drawn out mess with his big Revlon commercial/musical number? We did not need to see the TV commercial for Not One of the Main Characters. And we REALLY didn’t need that mess where Arden tries to warn Revson’s model girlfriend that she should be careful being his model because…actually it’s unclear why she felt so sad about the model, except that maybe she meant to say ‘don’t rely on your looks, they fade’ and was guessing at how sad the pretty girl might feel one day? BUT WHY WOULD THAT MAKE A COSMETICS GIANT SAD THAT JUST MEANS SHE’D HAVE A DEFINITE FUTURE CUSTOMER.
In the book (#woodhead), it’s clear that both women’s failure to recognize Revson as a serious player in the cosmetics industry and as a potential competitor was a huge mistake, and I think that could have effectively been shown without giving him unnecessary stage time. The women were too busy concentrating on fighting with and one-upping each other to notice new opponents creeping around them. This is an important fact, but the show addresses it way too messily.
But that competition and rivalry was the best part, creating such drama and intrigue between the two as representatives of their companies. They engaged in back and forth recipe leaking thanks to their partners who swapped companies (that should have been the focus of the men’s stories – that they both left to work in the rival company – AND THAT’S IT), and that led the FDA to require cosmetics to list every single ingredient on the label. We have all the shady dealings of these women to thank for knowing what’s in our stuff. How interesting is that? That’s strong material I wish we saw more of. (There was a Senate hearing or two but I wanted more and I wanted facts!) Both had to rename products and rethink advertising campaigns – especially when we saw both of them sell creams that were identical but one was sold for night and one for day. Companies still pull that shit today though when we can clearly see it’s all the same ingredients!
I also loved that we saw how these amazing women adapted when the war broke out – by creating products specifically for women in action and by veering away from using materials being rationed. This was interesting! Do more of that! I loved that they said they were helping to provide women in action with the war paint (take a shot) they needed to stay strong. The commitment of these women to make the companies they built as strong as possible could have made such a solid show if the creators believed in that story enough. Luckily the two performances are incredible, as I said. And not just their singing; they are some of the best actresses too. Patti’s biggest line, delivered when she is yet again trying to think of ways to destroy her rival, was, “It is dangerous to leave an enemy wounded. The attack must be fatal.” It’s a good line and her delivery was one hundred emoji but it did NOT need to get extended audience applause. What the crap kind of psychopaths was I sitting among.
Christine’s best line won’t really translate to the page, but when she was dismissing all the other sources of competition in the industry (really, they only had eyes for each other), she waves off the idea of being threatened by one of them because “she’s from Hoboken!” Right it sounds like nothing but Ebersole’s delivery was maybe the best of any line ever by anyone and the audience was crying. Patti’s funniest moments were from her ridiculous accent that I LOVED. It made her say things like ‘shits’ instead of ‘sheets’. “Where’s that contract?” “It’s right here on the shits.” Obsessed.
See I complain but there was so much good in this show. I just so badly wanted it to be better. The big number “Face to Face”, the duet performed on the Tonys, felt like an important piece of musical theatre history, just watching these two sing a duet. And Arden’s big 11 o’clock number “Pink”, about how her dismay that her entire life’s legacy might just be boiled down to her signature color, was Tony worthy in my opinion. And honestly, the costumes stand out as the most striking part of the show. They really deserved to win the Tony. I’ve never really noticed costumes before, not enough to realize that I’m noticing them, but I was in awe of Catherine Zuber’s work here. She is flames.
Side note, I learned afterward that Elizabeth Arden’s real name was Florence Nightingale Graham lolol her shitty parents.
So if somehow you have the chance to see this show in the next few days, you should. It’s so frustrating that it wasn’t constructed more thoughtfully and that all the songs aren’t as good as the best ones, but there is still some greatness in the story, and seeing LuPone and Ebersole together is a magical experience.
THEATRE
- The Nederlander redid the bathrooms since I was there last and it’s maybe the best bathroom situation I’ve ever seen in a theatre except for the Lyric, that shit is enormous.
- I got rush tickets for a Saturday matinee right before showtime. Definitely one of the easiest rushes I’ve ever encountered. (Although probably not for its final weekend.)
- This had the latest start of any show I’ve been to, I think. But it was a Saturday matinee and it was the oldest crowd I’ve ever seen too, older even than the people on the cruise I was on 8 years ago when it was me and husband and then 100 people from The Villages retirement home in Florida. So, I guess there’s at least a reason.
STAGEDOOR
OMG are you kidding, you do not stagedoor on two-show days for people of this calibre! They’re not coming out for shit!
The Jungle: London’s Best New Play Will and Should Break Your Heart
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is The Jungle at London’s Playhouse Theatre, running until November 3.
Boy, if you didn’t hate Theresa May already, this incredible play will definitely do the job. But while it will make you shake with rage against everyone in positions of power – the ones with the ability to make decisions that will help instead of hurt, but don’t – it won’t only leave you feeling sad and impotent. It will make you want to step up and help as well. And though it was kind of suuuper bougie that we were these middle class white people seeing a play about the Jungle while our do-gooder friends have actually volunteered there, it really is an important play to see, because theatre can and often should create real change in the world, and this is the kind of play that embodies that goal.
Boy, if you didn’t hate Theresa May already, this incredible play will definitely do the job. But while it will make you shake with rage against everyone in positions of power – the ones with the ability to make decisions that will help instead of hurt, but don’t – it won’t only leave you feeling sad and impotent. It will make you want to step up and help as well. And though it was kind of suuuper bougie that we were these middle class white people seeing a play about the Jungle while our do-gooder friends have actually volunteered there, it really is an important play to see, because theatre can and often should create real change in the world, and this is the kind of play that embodies that goal.
“The Jungle”, by Joe Murphy and Joe Robertson, and directed by the great Stephen Daldry and Justin Martin (never seen a play directed by two people before, I don’t think, so that’s interesting), is unlike anything I’ve seen before (and not even because of the two director thing). It doesn’t feel like a play at all. Dropping you smack in the middle of the action in the Calais migrant camp in 2016, you quickly forget that someone wrote these lines or directed these people or that these people are actors. I fully was immersed and believed that the passionate, beleaguered people around me were truly refugees from Afghanistan, from Syria, from Sudan, from Lebanon, from anywhere but definitely not actors from London. It usually takes a lot of effort to make that jump into accepting what you’re seeing in the theatre as truth, but here it was like there was no alternative, this was real. I was a witness to this incredible human rights atrocity. These poor people had been through so much and I was witnessing their efforts to get through even more.
The setting of the Calais migrant camp was in the news a lot a few years ago, for dern good reason, and even though the human rights violations are still occurring over the water (over to France, I mean, not the USA, although we all know the many violations of all sorts happening over that water but that’s not what I’m talking about for this one moment in time), the news has dropped the ball on covering it. Refugees and migrants trying to flee from many different countries for many different reasons have been coming into Europe for a long time, but in 2015 the number rose substantially. The huge numbers of migrants set up an encampment near Calais, France, from January 2015 to October 2016. With little assistance from activists and organizations, they built temporary housing, places of worships, restaurants. They dealt with sanitation problems (like lack of sanitation), food shortages, unaccompanied children, and the kinds of abuses that occur in any large group. People were hoping to get to the UK, and would risk their lives over and over and over by hiding in trucks, jumping ferries, or stowing away on trains heading to their believed salvation. They would really risk everything to succeed on this journey, evidenced in large part by the record number of people who died at sea trying to cross the Mediterranean in unsafe, terribly crowded small boats. Everyone remembers the picture of the poor little boy who drowned, a fact that this play reminds you of.
Despite the growing number of migrants camped out here, the French authorities began carrying out evictions. They would clear the camp by force, quadrant by quadrant, always promising that each eviction would be the last, forcing the migrants into smaller and more cramped living situations, before returning shortly thereafter and clearing another section. Now, the camp is gone, but the migrants still remain. They just aren’t allowed to have any sort of shelter in place or even bedding. Kids are burying blankets underground when the sun rises so officers won’t confiscate them. Their treatment is a disgusting stain in human history, one that is getting bigger and darker.
The play drops us into the action full swing, and when I say drops us in, I really mean it. Most of why the full immersion was easy to plunge into was because of the spectacular set and staging of this show. Inside the Playhouse theatre, there’s no theatre left really. The stage is gone, and although there’s a small balcony section for audience members, the entire floor is now a makeshift café in the middle of the migrant camp, with flags of represented countries, wooden benches, and dirt floors. The whole floor is this restaurant, and I was seated at one of the central wooden benches in the café while the actors swirled around, through, and right on top of the audience. The actors walked along the tables where our drinks were (a nice Afghani refugee will give you tea upon entering the café). They leaned on my shoulder when trying to talk to their friend standing at the next table. They threw dirty dish towels at us to clean our tables. They brought the guy next to me some freshly baked bread (seriously, I saw the guy kneading and rolling it out in the kitchen area) and then they brought him a whole curry platter (better him than me, thank goodness). I’ve seen immersive staging before, but this was unique, and it was so effective in making you care about what was happening.
And what was happening was chilling. The play begins right when the French authorities are beginning their ‘eviction process’, by forcibly, violently clearing an occupied part of the camp. You hear names of people who have died. Everything is loud, terrifying, and just when you’re starting to get short of breath, a calming presence interrupts and says we better start at the beginning of the story instead of the end. It’s unsettling storytelling, and incredibly powerful.
This calming presence is Safi, played by Ammar Haj Ahmad though I still can’t believe he was an actor who got to go home safe after the show. Quickly, and then continuously over the two acts, Safi will become someone we and the other refugees learn to trust and value, which is always a dangerous thing to do, as he demonstrates. A refugee from Syria, he becomes a leader of this camp, along with the Afghani restauranteur Salar (Ben Turner, remarkable) and Mohammed from Sudan (Jonathan Nyati), both giving their characters a sincere sense of gravitas and earnestness. It makes sense that the rest of the camp looks to them for guidance, even though they are just as lost and defeated.
There are a few other standout performers who are given time to shine, like John Pfumojena’s Okot, a Sudanese teenager who tells us how he has died and keeps dying deaths over and over in a somber, slow scene that was given remarkable amount of time to grow in an otherwise fast-paced show. But the entire cast is top-notch, and if I could give an award for best cast or ensemble (different from the theoretical Best Ensemble Tony Award that people are clamoring for that I object to (that would be for the unnamed chorus members only and so dancers who happen to be cast in top shows frequently could be like 10-time Tony winners and that’s just nonsense)), I would award this phenomenal cast. Not least the little girl Amal who barely says anything but breaks your heart into pieces so effectively that at the end I was like DO YOU NEED A HOME???
Everything about this play feels pitch perfect because it is all so accurate, from the Eton-educated British lad whose heart is in the right place but has no idea what he’s offering to deal with, to the infighting among migrants, to the condescending French authorities who lie with no compunction. Of course, the most staggeringly distressing part was the end, when we see actual footage of what has happened and how atrociously the media has handled it. The poor coverage and sometimes outright lies put out there about the camp led directly to Brexit, I believe, and I wonder just how many of the Brits in my audience voted for it, and whether they regret their decision. I hope they are doing something to help make amends for their actions. And if any theatre could produce that extraordinary result, it’s this extraordinary play, a theatrical event that you should run to see.
INFORMATION
The Jungle runs two hours and 45 ish minutes, in two acts. There’s lots of smoke, mainly non-cigarette ‘explosion’ smoke that I almost choked on and had to breathe through a paper towel for a minute, so be warned if you have asthma that like, you should bring your inhaler. Also, it’s pretty gritty, both in subject and in physical being. I picked the wrong show to wear a fancy dress to, I’ll tell you that. If you are sitting downstairs in the café, wear shoes you don’t mind getting dirty and clothes you can move in (to get on the bench) and try not to let them throw the dirty towels at your head.
Our seats right in the middle of the action at the Afghan Café were originally $25 (that’s pounddollars) and now are apparently $100! So you should run faster!
The setting of the Calais migrant camp was in the news a lot a few years ago, for dern good reason, and even though the human rights violations are still occurring over the water (over to France, I mean, not the USA, although we all know the many violations of all sorts happening over that water but that’s not what I’m talking about for this one moment in time), the news has dropped the ball on covering it. Refugees and migrants trying to flee from many different countries for many different reasons have been coming into Europe for a long time, but in 2015 the number rose substantially. The huge numbers of migrants set up an encampment near Calais, France, from January 2015 to October 2016. With little assistance from activists and organizations, they built temporary housing, places of worships, restaurants. They dealt with sanitation problems (like lack of sanitation), food shortages, unaccompanied children, and the kinds of abuses that occur in any large group. People were hoping to get to the UK, and would risk their lives over and over and over by hiding in trucks, jumping ferries, or stowing away on trains heading to their believed salvation. They would really risk everything to succeed on this journey, evidenced in large part by the record number of people who died at sea trying to cross the Mediterranean in unsafe, terribly crowded small boats. Everyone remembers the picture of the poor little boy who drowned, a fact that this play reminds you of.
Despite the growing number of migrants camped out here, the French authorities began carrying out evictions. They would clear the camp by force, quadrant by quadrant, always promising that each eviction would be the last, forcing the migrants into smaller and more cramped living situations, before returning shortly thereafter and clearing another section. Now, the camp is gone, but the migrants still remain. They just aren’t allowed to have any sort of shelter in place or even bedding. Kids are burying blankets underground when the sun rises so officers won’t confiscate them. Their treatment is a disgusting stain in human history, one that is getting bigger and darker.
The play drops us into the action full swing, and when I say drops us in, I really mean it. Most of why the full immersion was easy to plunge into was because of the spectacular set and staging of this show. Inside the Playhouse theatre, there’s no theatre left really. The stage is gone, and although there’s a small balcony section for audience members, the entire floor is now a makeshift café in the middle of the migrant camp, with flags of represented countries, wooden benches, and dirt floors. The whole floor is this restaurant, and I was seated at one of the central wooden benches in the café while the actors swirled around, through, and right on top of the audience. The actors walked along the tables where our drinks were (a nice Afghani refugee will give you tea upon entering the café). They leaned on my shoulder when trying to talk to their friend standing at the next table. They threw dirty dish towels at us to clean our tables. They brought the guy next to me some freshly baked bread (seriously, I saw the guy kneading and rolling it out in the kitchen area) and then they brought him a whole curry platter (better him than me, thank goodness). I’ve seen immersive staging before, but this was unique, and it was so effective in making you care about what was happening.
And what was happening was chilling. The play begins right when the French authorities are beginning their ‘eviction process’, by forcibly, violently clearing an occupied part of the camp. You hear names of people who have died. Everything is loud, terrifying, and just when you’re starting to get short of breath, a calming presence interrupts and says we better start at the beginning of the story instead of the end. It’s unsettling storytelling, and incredibly powerful.
This calming presence is Safi, played by Ammar Haj Ahmad though I still can’t believe he was an actor who got to go home safe after the show. Quickly, and then continuously over the two acts, Safi will become someone we and the other refugees learn to trust and value, which is always a dangerous thing to do, as he demonstrates. A refugee from Syria, he becomes a leader of this camp, along with the Afghani restauranteur Salar (Ben Turner, remarkable) and Mohammed from Sudan (Jonathan Nyati), both giving their characters a sincere sense of gravitas and earnestness. It makes sense that the rest of the camp looks to them for guidance, even though they are just as lost and defeated.
There are a few other standout performers who are given time to shine, like John Pfumojena’s Okot, a Sudanese teenager who tells us how he has died and keeps dying deaths over and over in a somber, slow scene that was given remarkable amount of time to grow in an otherwise fast-paced show. But the entire cast is top-notch, and if I could give an award for best cast or ensemble (different from the theoretical Best Ensemble Tony Award that people are clamoring for that I object to (that would be for the unnamed chorus members only and so dancers who happen to be cast in top shows frequently could be like 10-time Tony winners and that’s just nonsense)), I would award this phenomenal cast. Not least the little girl Amal who barely says anything but breaks your heart into pieces so effectively that at the end I was like DO YOU NEED A HOME???
Everything about this play feels pitch perfect because it is all so accurate, from the Eton-educated British lad whose heart is in the right place but has no idea what he’s offering to deal with, to the infighting among migrants, to the condescending French authorities who lie with no compunction. Of course, the most staggeringly distressing part was the end, when we see actual footage of what has happened and how atrociously the media has handled it. The poor coverage and sometimes outright lies put out there about the camp led directly to Brexit, I believe, and I wonder just how many of the Brits in my audience voted for it, and whether they regret their decision. I hope they are doing something to help make amends for their actions. And if any theatre could produce that extraordinary result, it’s this extraordinary play, a theatrical event that you should run to see.
INFORMATION
The Jungle runs two hours and 45 ish minutes, in two acts. There’s lots of smoke, mainly non-cigarette ‘explosion’ smoke that I almost choked on and had to breathe through a paper towel for a minute, so be warned if you have asthma that like, you should bring your inhaler. Also, it’s pretty gritty, both in subject and in physical being. I picked the wrong show to wear a fancy dress to, I’ll tell you that. If you are sitting downstairs in the café, wear shoes you don’t mind getting dirty and clothes you can move in (to get on the bench) and try not to let them throw the dirty towels at your head.
Our seats right in the middle of the action at the Afghan Café were originally $25 (that’s pounddollars) and now are apparently $100! So you should run faster!
