“It’s Only A Play” on Broadway: You Should Still Try Thoughby Randi / October 28, 2014
“Speed-the-Plow”, the David Mamet play best known for the celebrities attached to its various productions because they’re the only reason to sit through its vacuity, is now on the West End. Remember how a few years ago, Jeremy Piven was set to star on Broadway but he had to bow out due to mercury poisoning because he ate too much sushi? That was this show. And that’s the most interesting thing about it! Now it’s on the West End, starring Lindsay Lohan in her Redemption Tour™ sponsored by Oprah. (Oprah was there opening night, and I didn’t know. I’m so BT about it. Though it’s probably for the best because if I ever met her I’d be like “Ah’s snitting next to Borpo!”)
Lohan not only showed up, but remembered all her lines and, less condescendingly, was actually decent. She was well cast as a young attractive woman who messes with a Hollywood exec’s head because of all her wimmininess, which I’m sure she has done often in her real life but due to her failure circa 2007 to show up to work rather than wimmininess.
“Speed-the-Plow” is about two Hollywood executives who are preparing to pitch a terrible-sounding but sure-to-be-money-making prison film to the studio head. They only have the option until the next morning, which is quite the forced timeline for allowing all sorts of dramatic things to happen. We only have 24 hours to pitch this to the boss! Oh no! He’s going to NYC for the day? Well let’s just meet him tomorrow morning and hope he’s not late, instead of mentioning anything about the film to him on the phone! Idiots.
Bobby is the newly minted head of production, and Charlie is his longtime, long-suffering associate. I say long-suffering because we get the idea that the two friends have been working together for a long, long time, but Bobby is the only one who has been promoted or paid well. So what is that about? Judging this production, I would say it’s because Americans think British people are smarter because of their accent, and Bobby (despite the understudy’s best efforts), is clearly British, so he got the promotions. Charlie, on the other hand, can do a super impressive American accent, so his studio bosses assumed he wasn’t as smart or cultured as Bobby. My blurring of the lines between the actors and their characters seems only fitting given the nonsense of this flimsy play and how much my mind wandered throughout. And indeed, Charlie’s accent was so impressive (especially compared to Bobby’s FAILURE TO SAY HIS R’S) that I almost thought he could be a compatriot. But then I saw his name was Nigel Lindsay. Nope. Not American. Can’t be more British than that. (Nigel was actually quite great in the role. But he acted like and physically resembled Norbert Leo Butz enough that I couldn’t help dreaming of how amazing Norbert probably was in the Broadway revival.)
Lindsay plays Karen, a role – originated on Broadway by Madonna, never forget – that is both thankless and demeaning, but with great shoes. She’s a temporary secretary for Bobby, and we know she is new to the movie business and quite naïve about its operating because she tells everyone she meets how ‘naïve’ she is every five minutes. It’s a super short play, less than 90 minutes, and half the words were Lindsay saying ‘naïve’. The other half was Bobby the Britman saying “entuh-tainment”. (And “unduh-stand”. SAY YOUR R’S. It’s the ONE rule of doing American accents.)
Bobby has been given a book about radiation and the end of the world and humanity and stuff to provide a ‘courtesy read’, which means he will read it to be nice but there’s no way in hell the studio would ever make it as a film. He tells naïve Karen this, and naïve Karen is like, but why? “Because it wouldn’t make money.” But why? “Because no one wants to see a movie about that.” But why? “BECAUSE I SAID SO DO YOU UNDUH-STAND?”
But Karen won’t take no for an answer, so she goes to his house at night, even though he’s gross and old, to discuss the enormous long book that she somehow read in its entirety and tabbed between finishing her work day and dinner time. Karen loved the book, to say the least. She thinks it’s the most brilliant piece of writing that e’er touched her heart and thinks it would somehow make a great movie. This is where Mamet gets both lazy and annoying. Karen reads SO MUCH OF THE BOOK out loud to us in her attempt to convince Bobby of its brilliance. All the parts she reads sound like the Dalai Lama when he is in a drug-induced dream fighting off Ewok-shaped clouds. Then the tables sort of turn, and even though we know Bobby is trying to seduce her, she starts seducing Bobby. It’s gross because Bobby is old and can’t say his r’s. Karen just keeps reading high Dalai Lama passages until Bobby says he’ll make the movie with her and then they doooo it. So gross.
Obviously this play is blargh. The only possible theme or moral you can take from it is that Hollywood values money over boring stories (ooh burn!) and that women ruin everything. David Mamet is like a more jackassery version of Aaron Sorkin, which makes sense because a smart friend of mine (not the internet) told me that Sorkin was inspired by Mamet. But Sorkin is better because at least “The West Wing” had solid female characters that weren’t just wimmins being vagina-havers that bother the men, as all female characters in Mamet works turn out to be because he seems a misogynist at heart. Lindsay’s character here exists only to mess up the bro dynamic between the two male leads, and then when the men realize that she messed with their heads (seemingly not with bad intentions), they dispose of her. OH no they don’t kill her, they just kick her out and say “Try getting another job in Hollywood ever again, missy!” which is maybe worse. Like what jerks.
If anyone can explain to me why this play is called “Speed-the-Plow”, and why hyphens, I will give you a cookie. Is this a famous phrase that other people know about and I just never learned, like wag the dog or get the pip? Don’t know it. (Interestingly, Mamet wrote “Wag the Dog” as well. But that one doesn’t have hyphens! Why not! Why is he messing with our minds?) So, in closing, you should see it. I think that’s what I’m trying to say.
“Speed-the-Plow” is about two Hollywood executives who are preparing to pitch a terrible-sounding but sure-to-be-money-making prison film to the studio head. They only have the option until the next morning, which is quite the forced timeline for allowing all sorts of dramatic things to happen. We only have 24 hours to pitch this to the boss! Oh no! He’s going to NYC for the day? Well let’s just meet him tomorrow morning and hope he’s not late, instead of mentioning anything about the film to him on the phone! Idiots.
Bobby is the newly minted head of production, and Charlie is his longtime, long-suffering associate. I say long-suffering because we get the idea that the two friends have been working together for a long, long time, but Bobby is the only one who has been promoted or paid well. So what is that about? Judging this production, I would say it’s because Americans think British people are smarter because of their accent, and Bobby (despite the understudy’s best efforts), is clearly British, so he got the promotions. Charlie, on the other hand, can do a super impressive American accent, so his studio bosses assumed he wasn’t as smart or cultured as Bobby. My blurring of the lines between the actors and their characters seems only fitting given the nonsense of this flimsy play and how much my mind wandered throughout. And indeed, Charlie’s accent was so impressive (especially compared to Bobby’s FAILURE TO SAY HIS R’S) that I almost thought he could be a compatriot. But then I saw his name was Nigel Lindsay. Nope. Not American. Can’t be more British than that. (Nigel was actually quite great in the role. But he acted like and physically resembled Norbert Leo Butz enough that I couldn’t help dreaming of how amazing Norbert probably was in the Broadway revival.)
Lindsay plays Karen, a role – originated on Broadway by Madonna, never forget – that is both thankless and demeaning, but with great shoes. She’s a temporary secretary for Bobby, and we know she is new to the movie business and quite naïve about its operating because she tells everyone she meets how ‘naïve’ she is every five minutes. It’s a super short play, less than 90 minutes, and half the words were Lindsay saying ‘naïve’. The other half was Bobby the Britman saying “entuh-tainment”. (And “unduh-stand”. SAY YOUR R’S. It’s the ONE rule of doing American accents.)
Bobby has been given a book about radiation and the end of the world and humanity and stuff to provide a ‘courtesy read’, which means he will read it to be nice but there’s no way in hell the studio would ever make it as a film. He tells naïve Karen this, and naïve Karen is like, but why? “Because it wouldn’t make money.” But why? “Because no one wants to see a movie about that.” But why? “BECAUSE I SAID SO DO YOU UNDUH-STAND?”
But Karen won’t take no for an answer, so she goes to his house at night, even though he’s gross and old, to discuss the enormous long book that she somehow read in its entirety and tabbed between finishing her work day and dinner time. Karen loved the book, to say the least. She thinks it’s the most brilliant piece of writing that e’er touched her heart and thinks it would somehow make a great movie. This is where Mamet gets both lazy and annoying. Karen reads SO MUCH OF THE BOOK out loud to us in her attempt to convince Bobby of its brilliance. All the parts she reads sound like the Dalai Lama when he is in a drug-induced dream fighting off Ewok-shaped clouds. Then the tables sort of turn, and even though we know Bobby is trying to seduce her, she starts seducing Bobby. It’s gross because Bobby is old and can’t say his r’s. Karen just keeps reading high Dalai Lama passages until Bobby says he’ll make the movie with her and then they doooo it. So gross.
Obviously this play is blargh. The only possible theme or moral you can take from it is that Hollywood values money over boring stories (ooh burn!) and that women ruin everything. David Mamet is like a more jackassery version of Aaron Sorkin, which makes sense because a smart friend of mine (not the internet) told me that Sorkin was inspired by Mamet. But Sorkin is better because at least “The West Wing” had solid female characters that weren’t just wimmins being vagina-havers that bother the men, as all female characters in Mamet works turn out to be because he seems a misogynist at heart. Lindsay’s character here exists only to mess up the bro dynamic between the two male leads, and then when the men realize that she messed with their heads (seemingly not with bad intentions), they dispose of her. OH no they don’t kill her, they just kick her out and say “Try getting another job in Hollywood ever again, missy!” which is maybe worse. Like what jerks.
If anyone can explain to me why this play is called “Speed-the-Plow”, and why hyphens, I will give you a cookie. Is this a famous phrase that other people know about and I just never learned, like wag the dog or get the pip? Don’t know it. (Interestingly, Mamet wrote “Wag the Dog” as well. But that one doesn’t have hyphens! Why not! Why is he messing with our minds?) So, in closing, you should see it. I think that’s what I’m trying to say.
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All My Sons at the Old Vic: I Don’t Know How Many Sons We’re Talking About But I’m Bored
You tell me Sally Field is coming to London, I’m gonna be there front and center holding up a big sign with GO SALLY! WE LIKE YOU! written in bubble letters. Metaphorically speaking, of course; I’m not a monster. So the chance to see the absolute ledge, what a ledge, perform live is something I’m grateful for. I’m glad I got to see her. What a treat.
You can tell I’m trying to delay talking at all about the play, huh? Okay, well let’s just say it’s fitting that I saw All My Sons at the Old Vic theatre in London in the same week I finished reading Zadie Smith’s book Swing Time, as both were not unpleasant to experience, but ‘not unpleasant’ is literally all I can say about them. There was nothing gripping about either work. While I liked watching both Sally and Bill Pullman (seriously, Bill Pullman! ledge on ledge!), everyone else felt slightly (or heavily) miscast and misdirected. It felt like Arthur Miller’s classic play has aged out of relevance, and rather than feeling like a noteworthy period piece, it instead felt like a dusty relic.
Sally and Bill (I met them; we’re friends) play a married couple of an adult son. Just one son. They had another son but he died in the war (sad). Two sons is still not enough for an ‘all’, you’re correct – the title phrase reveal was one of the only creative turns of phrase in the whole script. Anyway, so the dead son (sorry) had a sweetheart when he went off to war (as they do, as they do). Ever since – three years now – the girl, Ann, has been corresponding with the other (living) (sorry) son, Chris, and THEY now want to get married. This play was written in a time when it was SUPER NORMAL for a girl whose sweetheart died in war to marry the guy’s brother instead, and that is WEIRD. Luckily, the family also thinks it’s weird, but not in a women-aren’t-property-to-be-inherited-when-a-family-member-dies-that’s-super-gross way, more in the they-don’t-actually-believe-their-son-died way.
Turns out, War Son was only reported ‘disappeared’ those three years ago, so even though all signs point to Dead, Sally (let’s just call her Sally) is making herself sick holding onto any thread of hope that her son is alive. Which you can’t really fault her for, it’s so sad. Poor sad Sally! But even WITHOUT the hope that the son is still alive, it’s still super weird to sign off on your other son marrying the fiancee. Oof.
Anyway, the girl, Ann, comes to visit the family so she and Chris can announce the engagement, and we learn about the friction between the two families that exists for reasons other than brother-swapping weirdness. Bill and Ann’s father worked together, and some shady shit went down, but only Ann’s father ended up in jail. Did her father do crimes? Or was Bill guilty but got away with it by throwing Mr. Ann under the bus? The problem with this being the main conflict is that no one cares.
The other main problem with the show is that Chris (Colin Morgan, Merlin) is miscast, and without a strong Chris to really nail all the nuance and emotional beats and relationships, it all falls apart. His choices felt off, like surprisingly off; I’m surprised at the director here. The only confident, successful directorial choice was the very opening moment, with the house moving upstage amid flashing Americana television screens. I’m disappointed that that new, confident display of this classic work wasn’t continued at any other moment.
In fact, the only emotional beat that rang true was an extraordinarily minor moment between Ann’s brother George and a super-minor-character-neighbor-lady when they acknowledged that they would have ended up together had George not gone off to army, mother. It’s like, literally the neighbor lady’s only scene, so great job making your mark, but the fact that nothing else in the entire show felt as authentic is a shame. Of course, London audiences being as insane as they are, they laughed when George declines meeting her kids, even though it’s a heartbreaking moment, but that’s CLA (crazy London audiences) for you.
While I’m sure this play was revelatory in its time, what being about the problems with profiting from war and all the emotional turmoil it causes in its wake, it felt irrelevant today. And some of the twists seemed nonsensical. When Bill Pullman yells at his son (living) in the climax, he all of a sudden asks, “Was the money the problem? You had too much money?” and I literally went, “um, weird flex”, because that was literally the most random reaction to the argument, coming out of nowhere and clearly not the issue. Everything sort of felt untethered like that, disjointed and random. Even the big reveals at the end, both about Bill’s true actions regarding the crime and the other son’s disappearance, feel incredibly unsatisfying. (They also don’t make a ton of sense on examination. If Larry (dead son) knew about the dad’s trial and potential crime, that means it was at least MONTHS since the incident/arrest, and he never once spoke to his family to hear their response or thoughts? He just assumed his father was guilty and then decided to do what he did? do not buy it.)
And yet, despite all this disappointment in the play, I think Sally (and Bill, really) did a nice job. Poor sad Sally was literally shaking the entire time, but you believed that she was a grieving mother with too many traumas to keep in their appropriate boxes, leaving everything threatening to unravel. I just didn’t think this production was strong enough for her talents.
The Wedding Singer & London Theatre’s Jewish Problem
London theatre has a Jewish problem. Whether the fault of creative teams, prejudice in the community and thus audiences, or a mix of both (it’s both), there’s an obvious ‘othering’ happening that feels offensive and demoralizing. Suffice it to say, I’m tired. Ain’t you tired Miss Hilly? I recently saw The Wedding Singer – a show I loved when I saw it on Broadway – and had to leave at the interval. I NEVER do that. (Okay, once.) (I mean one other time; this isn’t a Simpsons thing.) I felt ridiculed and ridiculous, with everyone around me in on a joke that is not funny. And I realized that this problem that I’ve been noticing in tiny bits and pieces is larger than I wanted to believe.
As we saw with last season’s Falsettos debacle, many productions fail to make a concerted effort to ensure that Jewish voices are involved with Jewish content. Not to start playing an unwinnable battle of the minorities, but you would never see a production of e.g. The Normal Heart without gay men involved, or The Inheritance. Or Falsettos! And this isn’t only about the acting talent, because yes, it’s the job of actors to play other identities, like Scarlett Johansson and her tree. It’s about having representation in the creative process, whether onstage or off, someone in the room to speak up, to ensure that representation onstage isn’t problematic or insulting. I didn’t support last season’s Falsettos by seeing it, but according to some people who did go, it was indeed insulting.
If it was anything like the Bar Mitzvah scene of The Wedding Singer, I’m glad I didn’t go. In this show, based on the great Adam Sandler movie, the lead needs a break from singing at weddings, and the scene changes to a Bar Mitzvah. It’s semi-funny in the movie because of Sandler and the content of the scene. But here, presenting the scene of a Bar Mitzvah was the joke in itself. As soon as men dressed in traditional Hasidic black suits and vests and hats come out, the audience roars. It doesn’t matter whether it’s funny that Robbie now has to change his act or do things he’s not used to doing – the joke was clearly Judaism. You could barely hear the lines or music because the audience was laughing at the pure visuals of Jewish men in their suits and payot (yes, they wore fake payot). That was the punch line. I felt my entire body burning with anger, as well as shame. And it got worse: the feature of this new act was Robbie’s queer keyboardist (I could write a whole nother piece on how offensively homophobic the direction around this character and everything else slightly queer was and how it was used for weird cheap laughs (and this was hundo p a right-wing crowd laughing at not with)) singing Hebrew prayers to the tune of an ’80s song.
I don’t remember whether this is done in the movie or the original production, but even if it was, it does not go over well here. Comedy has different effects on different crowds and communities, and you can tell when it’s good natured. Here, it is pure mockery of the sound of the Hebrew language and prayers, amid the sheer look of Jewish people as a punch line. In the movie, Sandler is a known Jewish performer whose comedy has the ability to poke good-natured fun at his culture. Here, it wasn’t good-natured, it was ridicule, and the laughter around me was based in contempt, which is why I left. (The production isn’t very good so I wasn’t heartbroken to leave – the pacing is about twice as slow as it should be, like the directorial metronome is broken, which makes all the actually good parts of the show fail.) Also, just because something plays appropriately in New York does not mean it will here. You have to be cognizant of the differences in the communities. In a Broadway theatre, you’re surrounded by Jews, and Jewishness is part of New York culture, especially in the theatre. In the UK, Jews are still considered rare, outsiders, and blamed for all sorts of things (like Labour losing). And there aren’t that many. In London, I was for sure the only Jewish person in the audience at my performance of Wedding Singer, and I wasn’t even surprised. Productions have to be aware of how something will play in different places and think about whether it works or not.
Falsettos wasn’t the start to the problem, and clearly not the end. I’ve noticed this in many shows over the past few years, and I’m new. The last production of Caroline, or Change was my first shocking moment. There’s a line in the show where Caroline says to her young Jewish charge that his people burn in hell. On Broadway, this line was met with a kind of hushed “oh shit” reaction, like wow that was dark, and cruel. In London, it was met with a hearty chuckle. Not a nervous laugh, a real laugh. If that doesn’t show how differently the same thing can play in the two cities and how important it is to make sure you have someone in the room (Caroline had no Jews) to account for potential offensive representation, then I don’t know what to tell you.
Recent (and great) productions like Rags at the Park Theatre and Leopoldstadt (review next week) at Wyndham’s are promising in their inclusivity and representation, although the latter still had a few very strange moments of laughter when I saw it. I am still continually surprised at what London audiences will laugh at. And yesI have a different sense of humor as an American, but sometimes it’s not that. Sometimes the laughter is quite troubling (like in Caroline and parts of Appropriate). We know that anti-Semitism is just as strong as ever in this country (and around the world), and that’s something to be aware of when you are creating art that involved Jews or Jewishness. My horror at The Wedding Singer may seem misplaced or overblown to you, but that show’s missteps are symptoms of a much larger problem in British theatre and the country itself.
