Sondheim's "Assassins" at the Menier: Creepy, Provocative, & Flawlessby Randi / January 7, 2015
It’s a sad state on Broadway when small, lovely shows can’t succeed. Granted, if you are a tourist with time for only one show in NYC, you’re going to try for “The Lion King” or “The Book of Mormon” (unless you are Mormon) or “Beautiful” (because middle-aged ladies freaking love to sing along in that show, the horror). Tourists, the people that new shows need to attract, are understandably reluctant to risk limited time and money for unproven ventures like “Big Fish”, or the BSE® “The Bridges of Madison County”, or, this season, “The Last Ship”.
“The Last Ship” is the latest artistic casualty on Broadway, closing this past weekend after a short run of just under four months. It wasn’t great, but damn it was moving, lovely, and unique. It sounded like nothing else on Broadway now or in recent memory. Sting, yes that Sting, wrote the musical inspired by his childhood and the shipbuilding yards of the northern UK. His music for “The Last Ship” sounds like quintessential Sting: haunting, dark, but beautiful.
The crazy thing is, I hated the music when I first heard it last year. I attended the Tony Awards dress rehearsal, and along with my bff and my mom I was like, ‘ughhh Sting get off the STAGE this is TERRIBLE’! And then!! And then they had Sting rehearse his song a second time! They could have made Neil Patrick Harris do “Sugar Daddy” again or repeated the amazing “Gentleman’s Guide” number but nooo we had to listen to old Irish wailings twice? I was literally groaning and almost yelling at the people in charge. That’s how crazy I was. And it’s possibly the problem the show had in getting off the ground – the style of music isn’t easy to accept; it is not a recognizable Broadway style. You might not like it at first. But the second or third time, you fall madly in love and can’t stop listening to it or singing it. Maybe that’s what it takes to wrap your mind around something so new and so moving. Listen for yourself:
The crazy thing is, I hated the music when I first heard it last year. I attended the Tony Awards dress rehearsal, and along with my bff and my mom I was like, ‘ughhh Sting get off the STAGE this is TERRIBLE’! And then!! And then they had Sting rehearse his song a second time! They could have made Neil Patrick Harris do “Sugar Daddy” again or repeated the amazing “Gentleman’s Guide” number but nooo we had to listen to old Irish wailings twice? I was literally groaning and almost yelling at the people in charge. That’s how crazy I was. And it’s possibly the problem the show had in getting off the ground – the style of music isn’t easy to accept; it is not a recognizable Broadway style. You might not like it at first. But the second or third time, you fall madly in love and can’t stop listening to it or singing it. Maybe that’s what it takes to wrap your mind around something so new and so moving. Listen for yourself:
Sadly, most shows need to garner an immediate and large fanbase, and it is just getting more and more difficult for new non-jukebox and non-movie-based shows to do this. Sting himself joined the cast in the middle of the run to try to boost ticket sales, proving how devoted and proud he was of this work. I saw the show once Sting had joined, and it was completely magical. That was in large part due to Sting’s presence and incredible voice, but considering he took on only a minor role, it was also due to the rest of the wonderful cast and that haunting music.
The show concerns the people living in a small northern England town, in which the main source of work is in the shipyard. Corporate goons (not really) declare that they are closing the poorly performing shipyard as times achange because new ventures would bring in more income. Instead of accepting the offer to find new jobs working for the villainous (not really) company, the townspeople decide to work together to build one last ship as a symbol of the lives they’ve known and because it would be nice and fun and I guess they had nothing else to do either because it’s freaking way north England and it’s cold and boring there and there is no theatre. Anyway they make this really lovely commitment, yet you can also see why some people had trouble with the book – they were like, soooo this is about people building a ship in protest sort of okay that’s boring. It’s far from the type of fare one would consider worthy of a musical, but the wonderful performances and the poignant music made it more than worthy.
Immediately, the musical sets a certain tone with just the first few bars of the opening song, “Island of Souls”. It sounds like Sting but transposed for theatre, and it’s a bit eerie, a bit sad, and totally lovely as the voices of the ensemble mesh to almost resemble the winds of the ocean. A young teenager leaves his girlfriend behind as he sets off to find his fortune on the seas; the boy’s harsh father confirms his disappointment in him; the men of the town continue building their ships. This first look at the story to come effectively sets the stage.
The show concerns the people living in a small northern England town, in which the main source of work is in the shipyard. Corporate goons (not really) declare that they are closing the poorly performing shipyard as times achange because new ventures would bring in more income. Instead of accepting the offer to find new jobs working for the villainous (not really) company, the townspeople decide to work together to build one last ship as a symbol of the lives they’ve known and because it would be nice and fun and I guess they had nothing else to do either because it’s freaking way north England and it’s cold and boring there and there is no theatre. Anyway they make this really lovely commitment, yet you can also see why some people had trouble with the book – they were like, soooo this is about people building a ship in protest sort of okay that’s boring. It’s far from the type of fare one would consider worthy of a musical, but the wonderful performances and the poignant music made it more than worthy.
Immediately, the musical sets a certain tone with just the first few bars of the opening song, “Island of Souls”. It sounds like Sting but transposed for theatre, and it’s a bit eerie, a bit sad, and totally lovely as the voices of the ensemble mesh to almost resemble the winds of the ocean. A young teenager leaves his girlfriend behind as he sets off to find his fortune on the seas; the boy’s harsh father confirms his disappointment in him; the men of the town continue building their ships. This first look at the story to come effectively sets the stage.
We jump 15 or so years to find that teenage boy, Gideon, returning to the town now an aimless man (Michael Esper), having failed in his pursuits and looking for his old love. That girl, Meg, is now a tough ass broad played by the superb Rachel Tucker, whose belt seemingly has no limits. Of course Meg has a son about 15 years old, and of course Gideon turns out to be the father. Kind of cliché there. Meg’s long-time partner, Arthur (Aaron Lazar), has raised the boy as his own as he waits for Meg to finally marry him. The chemistry of the reunited lovers is palpable, as is the shaky position of pretty decent guy Arthur as he realizes Meg still has feelings for Gideon. One of my absolute favorite parts of the show is that, despite the evident remnants of love between Meg and Gideon, she chooses to remain with Arthur, who is the right man for her now. Expecting Meg and Gideon to end up together, I had already written Arthur off as another ill-treated musical character who never really did anything wrong but whom the audience for some reason roots against – like Benny in “Rent”. (Seriously – what did he do wrong?) So I was pleasantly surprised when the plot took the much more mature path of recognizing that a person’s needs change with time just as much as the person does. It was a beautiful aspect of the book.
Then we have the great Fred Applegate as the town’s priest who is also bad ass as well as big-hearted. They give poor Fred cancer and kill him off in Act 2. Another unnecessary clichéd development. But Fred himself never does wrong, and he was so lovable here as the outspoken, can’t-be-arsed with manners and tradition man of the cloth.
Anyway, the company announces the closing of the shipyard, and the town mourns the forthcoming loss of its defining feature. Priest Fred Applegate convinces the foreman and the builders that they need to build one last glorious ship in order to achieve closure as well as feel proud of themselves for their fine work all these years. Newly arrived Gideon causes quite a stir and decides to help the men even though he left originally to avoid working in the shipyard, effectively. It’s all camaraderie and emotional growth through the symbolic work from here on out.
While the first act was nearly flawless, the second act was kind of a mess. I can’t deny that there were serious problems there. It slowed down in large part due to its breaking of my NUMBER 1 RULE OF MUSICALS: Do not start Act II with a crappy slow song, especially if it is sung by a minor and/or old man character. Seroiusly. To bring people back in from intermission – a truly marvelous segment of time in which you can eat ice cream and freaking pee – you need to start with a rollicking good number. They technically tried to satisfy my rule by having some ensemble girls belt a fun ranty song about the men, but it was still an intermission song, like “Telly” in “Matilda”, and not officially part of the show. So the real first song of Act II was Priest Fred Applegate, who is old and dying, and just ugh. Not the best way to start out, and kind of unnecessary overall. It was absolutely akin to last season’s “Rocky”, in which Dakin Matthews (Headmaster Charleston) as Rocky’s coach starts Act II with a shit song about his old days in the ring. Oh my god, no. Both of these songs dragged the shows’ momentum to a halt and set the stage for mostly lackluster second acts. Hey Broadway, stop this nonsense of having the lovable old men sing shit songs to bring us back in. ahhhh.
It didn’t help that the next song was my least favorite. Gideon and his son get arrested when all the shipbuilders try to protest the yard’s closing. In their jail cell for some forced father-son time, Gideon sort of teaches his son to fight but also to dance??? The song is literally called “The Night The Pugilist Learned How to Dance”. I just no I can’t deal with it.
Luckily, after that, the book picked up and the music got back to being awesomely entertaining. Brian Yorkey (of “Next to Normal”) and John Logan (from film) wrote the book, and despite its slow bits, I thought it was a nice job done on such a small, personal story. Again, killing the priest seemed like unnecessary additional drama in a freaking drama, but it did give rise to one of the best scenes: his wake. To honor such an awesome man, the town throws a crazy Irish-jig dancing kind of wake, and it’s an incredibly fun ensemble number that I would have loved to have seen on the Tonys if the show lasted longer.
Another fantastic ensemble number was the exuberant Act I drinking song “We’ve Got Now’t Else”, which my friend and I spent all of intermission trying to decipher. (“What the hell were they saying? We’ve got what else? Huh?” Still don’t really know what it means but whatevs.)
Seeing Sting in the role of Jackie, the ship yard foreman, was a treat I am so lucky to have experienced. But Jackie is only a supporting part; the rest of the cast was wonderful and made the show as enjoyable as it was overall. I wish the show could have gotten the better run that it deserved. Hopefully the show will find new life, maybe in the West End (where it should have started). But this is the kind of small, touching show that stays with you, so for all the people who did get a chance to enjoy it, at least it’ll remain a part of us. At least the good songs will.
Then we have the great Fred Applegate as the town’s priest who is also bad ass as well as big-hearted. They give poor Fred cancer and kill him off in Act 2. Another unnecessary clichéd development. But Fred himself never does wrong, and he was so lovable here as the outspoken, can’t-be-arsed with manners and tradition man of the cloth.
Anyway, the company announces the closing of the shipyard, and the town mourns the forthcoming loss of its defining feature. Priest Fred Applegate convinces the foreman and the builders that they need to build one last glorious ship in order to achieve closure as well as feel proud of themselves for their fine work all these years. Newly arrived Gideon causes quite a stir and decides to help the men even though he left originally to avoid working in the shipyard, effectively. It’s all camaraderie and emotional growth through the symbolic work from here on out.
While the first act was nearly flawless, the second act was kind of a mess. I can’t deny that there were serious problems there. It slowed down in large part due to its breaking of my NUMBER 1 RULE OF MUSICALS: Do not start Act II with a crappy slow song, especially if it is sung by a minor and/or old man character. Seroiusly. To bring people back in from intermission – a truly marvelous segment of time in which you can eat ice cream and freaking pee – you need to start with a rollicking good number. They technically tried to satisfy my rule by having some ensemble girls belt a fun ranty song about the men, but it was still an intermission song, like “Telly” in “Matilda”, and not officially part of the show. So the real first song of Act II was Priest Fred Applegate, who is old and dying, and just ugh. Not the best way to start out, and kind of unnecessary overall. It was absolutely akin to last season’s “Rocky”, in which Dakin Matthews (Headmaster Charleston) as Rocky’s coach starts Act II with a shit song about his old days in the ring. Oh my god, no. Both of these songs dragged the shows’ momentum to a halt and set the stage for mostly lackluster second acts. Hey Broadway, stop this nonsense of having the lovable old men sing shit songs to bring us back in. ahhhh.
It didn’t help that the next song was my least favorite. Gideon and his son get arrested when all the shipbuilders try to protest the yard’s closing. In their jail cell for some forced father-son time, Gideon sort of teaches his son to fight but also to dance??? The song is literally called “The Night The Pugilist Learned How to Dance”. I just no I can’t deal with it.
Luckily, after that, the book picked up and the music got back to being awesomely entertaining. Brian Yorkey (of “Next to Normal”) and John Logan (from film) wrote the book, and despite its slow bits, I thought it was a nice job done on such a small, personal story. Again, killing the priest seemed like unnecessary additional drama in a freaking drama, but it did give rise to one of the best scenes: his wake. To honor such an awesome man, the town throws a crazy Irish-jig dancing kind of wake, and it’s an incredibly fun ensemble number that I would have loved to have seen on the Tonys if the show lasted longer.
Another fantastic ensemble number was the exuberant Act I drinking song “We’ve Got Now’t Else”, which my friend and I spent all of intermission trying to decipher. (“What the hell were they saying? We’ve got what else? Huh?” Still don’t really know what it means but whatevs.)
Seeing Sting in the role of Jackie, the ship yard foreman, was a treat I am so lucky to have experienced. But Jackie is only a supporting part; the rest of the cast was wonderful and made the show as enjoyable as it was overall. I wish the show could have gotten the better run that it deserved. Hopefully the show will find new life, maybe in the West End (where it should have started). But this is the kind of small, touching show that stays with you, so for all the people who did get a chance to enjoy it, at least it’ll remain a part of us. At least the good songs will.
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Questions I hope HEX answers before opening night
The brand new musical Hex is due to open tomorrow night at London’s National Theatre. Given its awesome-sounding premise — it’s a dark musical retelling of the Sleeping Beauty story starring the great Rosalie Craig as the fairy responsible for the curse — I was too excited to wait for opening night. Instead, I saw an early preview and. . .well. . .yeesh. Rather than parroting the fellow audience members we overheard as we left the theatre (“wow what an absolute mess”), I’m going to list some of the questions I hope the creatives can manage to answer before the show is frozen. If these questions can be answered in time, and the holes they address fixed, then there’s a chance this show can be saved. There is so much potential in that elevator pitch, but that potential has unfortunately been left to gather dust with Lorelai’s golf clubs.
Question 2. What was Fairy’s backstory?
This question gets to the big hole in the show. Fairy’s sad history is hinted at throughout — she’s the only fairy left; she has no wings; she was ‘left behind’ by all her brethren — but we never hear a ‘why’ for any of it. What happened to all the other fairies? Why is this weird schizophrenic* childish being the only fairy left in the land? Why is she so messed up? How did she get so messed up? Why can’t she think straight? Did she suffer trauma? Is she supposed to be special for surviving, or is it just dumb luck — or bad luck? How did she lose her wings? Answers to any of these questions would go far to help develop the character in interesting ways: why she’s so weird, why she’s alone, why her story deserves to be told. But we get zilch.
*not using offensively; she legitimately is portrayed as schizophrenic, displaying classic symptoms including but not limited to: hearing voices, having delusions and hallucinations, being unable to communicate effectively, having abnormal motor functioning, neglecting personal hygiene, having useless/excessive movement, exhibiting bizarre posture, &c. Which, actually, forces a Question 2b: Why is Fairy portrayed as schizophrenic???
Question 3. Why didn’t the queen sleep?
My crim law professor used to go through alleged facts and point out where something “didn’t pass the smell test”. I thought of that frequently during this show. Let’s start at the very beginning: The queen has a new baby who refuses to sleep. The entire castle’s staff is exhausted. So, the queen orders a lackey to go find a fairy to put the baby to sleep. Okay, so, if they had already gotten a doctor and the doctor couldn’t do anything – and couldn’t find anything wrong with the baby underlying the wakefulness – why not just have the staff rotate caring for the baby? I don’t buy that this self-absorbed (annoying, very panto) queen hadn’t slept. She surely would have go to bed in far away quarters each night and left her staff to watch the baby. (And also, if there’s nothing medically wrong, why turn to black magic? But that would undo the whole myth, so whatever.)
Question 4. What urged Fairy’s hex?
An interesting new aspect of this story is the notion that fairies are supposed to only ‘bless’ (give magical favors that the person being blessed actively wants), rather than ‘hex’ (put magic on a person that they don’t want). She found that the baby didn’t want to sleep, and as a result the fairy didn’t want to force the baby to sleep as that would be a hex. (Drink!) Fairy said the baby would sleep when she was tired, i.e. when she wanted to sleep. This wasn’t good enough for the royal family, and they ‘forced’ Fairy to hex the baby to sleep. The forcing made Fairy so. . . something, that she hexed the baby to sleep unendingly once she gets pricked by a thorn (until, of course, the true love’s kiss). But this huge pivotal moment of the story was rushed through so it was unclear why Fairy did such a hex. Yes she was being held captive and she was clearly stressed out, but what made her think of this specific, peculiar curse with all its random details? Why not hex the people who are actually assaulting her, capturing her? Why not put the baby to sleep then and there? Why do such a bizarre hex? Literally one line supporting her action, revealing anything about her mindset, would have been good. Her decision here is the entire foundation of this story, so it needed to be supported at least a little. I keep seeing Michael in The Good Place waving his hand and saying ‘don’t worry about it’ in response to questions.
Question 5. What happened to the staff?
The baby, Rose, grew up sheltered in an attempt to prevent her from ever being pricked by a thorn. But that day finally came when she was a teen, and she fell into her hexed sleep. Rose woke up after 100 years, ostensibly having long been alone in the castle. No one else was there. Did the existing staff really abandon this cursed princess? There was no plan put in place by previous royals to continue keeping watch over this child throughout her slumber, throughout the subsequent generations? I don’t buy that at all! That’s so irresponsible! Abolish the monarchy!
Question 6. Are the murderous thorns supposed to be funny?
The personified ‘thorns’ who pricked Rose to sleep then set about pricking every single prince who tries to enter the kingdom to lift the curse, sending them into long-term sleep as well. (Though it seems at first like straight up murder.) This whole segment is done like a creepier murdery-er version of the Oompa Loompa songs but it’s also clearly supposed to be funny. I found it so cringey. So much murderous energy. So much of an annoying song. So much time devoted to these giant murderous thorns who want to put everyone who crosses their path to sleep forever?? I hated it.
Question 7. How did Rose know wassup?
When Bert* wakes Rose up and they immediately seem to love each other, how did Rose — who has been asleep 100 years and before that lived a completely sheltered childhood to prevent the cursed (two syllables) thorn prick — seem totally in the know about love and sex and I don’t know IMMEDIATELY HAVING TWO BABIES?? She would be a total Nell ta ta, not a regular modern teen who is totally chill with becoming a teen mom with no support system.
*Question 7b. What kind of name for a prince is Bert?
Question 8. What’s going on with the music?
With each of the songs, I struggled to get a handle on what was happening. Instead of a cohesive single song (let alone cohesive score), each movement felt like different groups of small musical phrases smashed together, never coalescing into actual songs with melodies, or foundations, or points. It was a very strange chaotic experience, to think you grasp what a song sounds like and what it’s doing and then have it keep shifting away from you musically, in a lawless deranged way rather than a creative way. And there was so much of the modern pop vocalizing/shrieking/riffing instead of legitimate singing, a trend I truly despise. Of course Rosalie sounds wonderful but her talents are not given enough to work with.
Question 9. Why was the whole second act focusing on the ogre grandmother eating her grandchildren?
This was where every audience member I could see was imitating my favorite little blonde toddler girl gif, you know the one. The action shifted to focus entirely on the ogre queen wanting to eat her grandkids and being unable to control herself. Why, just so much why. Why didn’t Fairy tell Rose that the ogre was after her babies and would probably kill her too and urge her to GTFO RIGHT NOW? Instead Fairy killed some animals to trick the queen into believing she was eating the babies. Is Fairy that inept, that much a bumbling fool? It was insufferable. Why didn’t she just say RUN instead of cowering with the babies? It took a helluva lot more time to hunt down the goat and the rabbit and whatever it was (NOT great sound effects of slaughter btw, could definitely have done without that awful harrowing bullshit) than it would have to just shove the babies into the arms of their mother and shove them all out the door.
Question 10. Why don’t the book and score match up?
My biggest problem (okay they’re all the biggest) was that the book didn’t make sense on its own, and then the song lyrics didn’t match the book/action at all. It reminded me of the Broadway flop A Tale of Two Cities. In that show, this powerful supporting character spends the whole show wanting to get revenge for her brother, and then in Act II sings her big number, the main lyric of which was ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ Which had exactly zero to do with her character’s situation or the need for revenge for her brother. It was like, wtf?? That’s not what’s happening here, that’s not what you’ve been saying? I thought of that during this show.
Specific songs:
– Bert’s song was both indecipherable and also a heroic pomp-y song but in a creepy minor key. Why that key if it’s supposed to be a pump-up song? It didn’t fit to introduce the character.
– The opening song of Act II, with all the suitors singing about maybe one day finally being the one or one day it’ll be me or maybe this time or whatever, made no sense. These people also just woke up from decades being cursed asleep, and their first thought is about one day winning? getting the prize? (the princess? gross) and not about ‘oh my god where is my family, where is my home, do I not have a home anymore? how many years of my life did I miss?’ What do you mean one day it’ll be you, do you know you just woke up from like 80 years asleep? You just got a miracle second chance done on you and you’re complaining about the before times? Go see about your life, men! Make it make sense.
– The big climactic song about how everyone is different on the outside vs the inside was the greatest example of the aforementioned Tale of Two Cities illogicality. The lyrics do not reflect what had been told in the story. Rose says she’s smart on the outside? She has not lived at all and left two babies unattended for an ogre to catch! Bert says on the outside he’s seen as a hero? He hasn’t done shit heroically yet! No one thinks you’re a hero! Worst of all, the ogre who just thought she happily ate her grandbabies says that she is going to start being true to herself. BEING TRUE TO YOURSELF IS EATING BABIES! You need to work to NOT be true to yourself!!!
Question 11: Why is the promising Rose and Bert conflict treated like an afterthought?
The Rose and Bert conflict is infuriatingly done. He doesn’t believe what Rose says about his mother – that she’s an ogre and so on – and he NEVER DOES believe her, not until his mother reveals the truth herself. Yet afterward, Rose is the one to run after him to apologize, leaving her babies unattended. I mean I guess that’s all believable for an 18-year-old who just woke up but I don’t think it was presented in that way. It seemed actually presented as her needing to apologize to him, which is absolutely bonkers. And it all seemed secondary to Fairy trembling and wincing around the stage and also wanting to be friends with the ogre? When did the ogre become her best friend? See so many questions.
The most frustrating part of this show (okay it’s all the most frustrating part) is that in this climactic segment, instead of having a song about Rose and Bert’s conflict and giving some character depth and development through song as musicals are supposed to do, they give us a silly R&B song for the suitors that lifts right out. Another point in the panto column.
Question 11b: Why does Rose consider the suitors, who she never met until right now, her best friends? They have all been asleep and never met before.
I have more questions, like why is the humor geared to the lowest common denominator? why are there so many elements that evidence a favoring of panto over the musical art form? is this for kids or adults? but I’ve asked enough. With some work, it would be a decent show – it has so much promise in that premise. But it’s presented as though the creatives don’t believe in the premise and instead stuff the hours with low-grade jokes, unfinished sentences, and mere sketches of characters. Hex was unfortunately tonally confused and sloppy. I hope there is time to answer these questions before the show is set so that it can try to find its proper footing.
INFORMATION
Hex opens Wednesday December 15 at the National Theatre. At my performance, Act I ran from 7:20 to 8:38, Act II ended at 9:55. Hilariously, the placards outside the doors said the run time was 2 hours 34 minutes, a mind-boggling specificity that I will never understand the point of announcing.
The Mastersingers of Nuremberg at the English National Opera: Richard Wagner was a Sumbitch
When the representative for the English National Opera took to the stage at 3pm on a recent Saturday and announced that one of the principal actors had a gastrointestinal infection, but would still be performing, and they were just asking for our understanding, well then you knew you were in for a treat of a day. When a prim and proper British woman who works in opera informs you just for the sake of informing you that an opera singer about to sing in front of you might crap his pants onstage, that’s worth the ticket price alone.
And when the people seated next to me were talking about the run time a few minutes before curtain, and one turned to me and asked, “Wait, is this really close to 4 hours?”, and I said “Actually it’s more like 5,” and then I was corrected that it was closer to 6 (with intermissions), well you knew the whole thing would be quite special.
And when the people seated next to me were talking about the run time a few minutes before curtain, and one turned to me and asked, “Wait, is this really close to 4 hours?”, and I said “Actually it’s more like 5,” and then I was corrected that it was closer to 6 (with intermissions), well you knew the whole thing would be quite special.
“The Mastersingers of Nuremberg” is one of Wagner’s supposed masterpieces, not that I think this anti-Semitic assrat really should be considered the creator of masterpieces. Regardless, I went to see for myself, and by god, it was sung in English instead of German. I mean. People. Do the operas in the language in which they were written. I don’t watch the dubbed over version of “Life is Beautiful” and I sure as hell don’t want to hear terribly translated lyrics plunked onto melodies they weren’t meant for. A few years ago, in Vienna, we saw “Rigoletto”, one of Verdi’s masterpieces (actual), and the bastards did it in German. It was HIDEO. I swore I’d only see operas performed in their original languages after that. But I got free tickets to “Mastersingers” and so whatever. It was worth it so I could see in the flesh how bonkers Wagner was. Did he have syphilis? That’s always the cause of ancient times people being craybies.
So “Mastersingers” is an opera in three acts, each one the length of a decent movie, or a regular opera. The show begins in a church with like 100 people who you never see again singing hymns. At the end of the church service, a knight just passing through sees this young girl Eva and falls in love with her (naturally) and she falls in love with him (naturally) and then he approaches her and says hello and what not. Her maid informs the knight that no, the girl isn’t yet engaged, but she’s about to be, because her father is the leader of the Mastersingers guild and has promised his daughter as the prize in the upcoming singing competition. What a cool dad! So the knight, Walther, you’re probably not supposed to pronounce the ‘h’ but I do, has the great idea to audition for the Mastersingers, be invited to join the guild, and then win the competition and be able to marry this young girl he just fell in love with when he saw her from across the room even though her dress is hideous and she wears it the entire show.
Walther goes to the guild meeting, where Eva’s father sings about how great their guild is and how pretty their costumes are. Before he enters, David (Han Sachs’s apprentice (Hans Sachs is the lead role but like is no one important??)) teaches Walther how to sing like a master. In a very confusing lecture, David apparently says that there must be birds, and flowers, but not trees, or some such absolute hilarious nonsense that no one would understand. Walther still tries to audition, with a song about love of course because he’s an expert in that biz now, but is laughed at because he doesn’t know how they do. The town clerk, Beckmesser, is a guild member who reeeeally wants to win the marriage prize and he is really mad that they let Walther audition at all. He makes fun of him a lot. He also is clearly Wagner’s Jewish character, as he’s rich and greedy and cheap and the villain and Wagner wants everyone to hate him, just like he wanted everyone to hate Jews. Wagner’s the worst. Beckmesser is like who let this amateur into our club? And Hans Sachs is like hey be nice, why can’t we give this guy a chance? And Beckmesser’s all “Shut up Hans Sachs and go finish making my shoes dammit why you taking so long to make my shoes?” Hans Sachs is a shoemaker p.s.
First intermission. We moved down to better seats. Then we made friends with old people and tried to identify all the famous German notables on the curtain. Oh yeah, the show curtain was a freaking mass of maybe 200 scary white faces, all famous Germans, including Goethe, Marlena Dietrich, prob lots of Nazis.
The beginning of Act Two is probably my favorite part. We open in the alley between Hans Sachs’s shop/house and Eva’s father’s house. David is informing Eva’s maid Magdalena, who is also David’s secretish lover, that Walther failed his Mastersinger audition. Magdalena becomes so upset for Eva’s future that she forgets to give David the food she brought for him, and then everyone in the vicinity makes fun of him before Hans Sachs saves him and ushers him back to the shop. Let’s go over that. The most terribly sad thing Wagner could think of having the maid do in her sadness was to forget to feed her boyfriend. And then the whole town mocks him because he didn’t get food gifts from his girlfriend that night. I’m obsessed.
Then we see Eva and her father talk about the audition. Her father expresses a little bit of doubt about hosting a singing competition as the means of finding his daughter’s husband. Good thinking, man. He gets over his 2-minute span of doubt right quick though and is all “nahhh whatevs this plan is great, not weird, totally normal for this time period.” He goes to sleep while Eva talks to Hans Sachs about Walther. Hans is like ugh he totally messed up even though we tried to teach him, so you’re probably gonna marry Beckmesser, sorry. And Eva’s like oh god dammit Hans, can’t you at least enter the competition? I’d be okay with marrying you. I mean, I love that new guy, what’s his name, Walther, but I’d be happy with you. Hans is like bitch you tripping.
Then Walther, who, remember, is a knight, and probably left a much cooler life wherever he came from, comes by in the middle of the knight and talks to Eva. They’re wondering whether they should elope but then Beckmesser that awful Jew (Wagner’s words) comes by to serenade his future bride. Since Eva is outside cavorting with Walther, her wonderful maid Magdalena pretends to be Eva at her bedroom window. So Beckmesser is singing to Magdalena, thinking it’s Eva, and Hans Sachs is sitting on his front stoop cobbling Beckmesser’s shoes. It’s all a big jumble of activity in the middle of the night because these people have no regard for their neighbors who are TRYING TO SLEEP DAMMIT. Beckmesser’s singing, Eva and Walther are trying to be quiet in the shadows, Hans Sachs is cobbling and hammering, and then David comes out of Hans Sachs’s house (they live together?) and sees Beckmesser serenading his girlfriend and so he attacks him. David and Beckmesser start fighting and then THE ENTIRE TOWN JOINS IN THE FIGHT. And then everyone is like left in their underwear! And all those people from the very first scene about 4 hours ago are finally given another part in the show and beat up the guys! And then Hans Sachs sends Eva home so she doesn’t elope and the riot sort of stops! And then! Omg and then! This awful scary figure in black holding a lantern comes out of the shadows singing a dirge-like tune – it’s the Night Watchman, and he’s dressed in Angie’s Maleficent costume, headgear and all. It is REDONK. End Act Two.
Intermission Number Two. We go outside and get dinner and ice cream. I am surprised at the number of people out on the streets still and then I realize it’s not even 7pm.
Act Three. There are noticeably fewer people in the theatre. This is a marathon, people. Commitment is half the battle. So we open in Hans Sachs’s shop and he is reading. I remember being bored. The guy playing Hans Sachs is a really good singer though. His name is Iain Paterson. Walther appears and Hans Sachs tries again to teach him how to sing in the Mastersingers style. This time is more successful, and Walther composes a pretty beautiful song. For the first time all day, I thought, oh wow, that’s lovely, I don’t feel like I am being bombarded by the noise of clanging pots, Richard.
This is where things got confusing. Walther leaves to get dressed for the festival, and Beckmesser arrives, still torn up and hurt from his beating the night before. Like, FFS Wagner, this guy really didn’t do anything. He’s mean and annoying but Wagner clearly wants the audience to delight in his misfortune and pain here because he’s so goddamn anti-Semitic. What an asstard. Beckmesser sees the new song on Hans’s desk, and it’s in Hans’s handwriting because he transcribed it while Walther was singing and composing it. But Beckmesser sees that it’s in Hans’s writing, Hans doesn’t correct him, and Beckmesser gets mad assuming that Hans is entering the competition. This is a big problem for Beck because the great Hans Sachs is the best singer or something and is serious competition. Beckmesser’s all “Aw come on Hans you’re breaking my barrrrs!” So Hans gives Beckmesser the song that Walther just wrote. He just gives it to him. And he warns him that it’s hard to sing so he better be careful. Like that’s Hans’s plan, to have Beckmesser sing Walther’s great song but not practice it enough so he ends up messing up and embarrassing himself. Whaaat a plan.
Then Eva arrives and weirdly so weirdly flirts with Hans. She clearly came looking for Walther, and when she didn’t see him, thought the next best idea was to trick Hans into thinking she came looking for him. She dumb. But then Walther comes downstairs and she like cries out in joy and Hans is like see, you love him, and she is like yeah sorry I played with your heart I got lost in the game oh baby baby. Then David and Magdalena appear, and Hans Sachs promotes David from apprentice to whatever is above that, and also is like hey you two should get married, you have my blessing, which apparently was necessary for a man’s sort-of boss to give back then even though both men are clearly over 50 years old. And then the only fantastic part of the entire thing occurs: All five of these characters sing a beautiful quintet with little to no accompaniment, and the opera should have ended there. It was gorgeous. During the applause after this movement, I actually started gathering my things because I thought it was the end. It should have been. But then there was another hour and a half.
But of course it couldn’t be over – we have to see the festival in its entirety! First, all the guilds in Nuremberg show off their skills and wares. It’s the most random procession. We see different art works on display, and like metalworks I think, and then all of a sudden there are five gigantic soft pretzels on display for judging and one gets a blue ribbon. WHAT IS THIS SHOW. I really wanted a pretzel.
Then the Mastersingers have their competition in front of the entire town. Beckmesser sings the song he got from Hans, but he didn’t practice and has no idea how it’s supposed to go so it’s a huge mess of a thing and it’s really awkward and everyone has fremdschamen which they actually know they have because it’s their word, the Germans.
Beckmesser tells everyone that he didn’t write this crap, that Hans Sachs did. Everyone gasps, they all actually gasp, because erma p, how could the great Hans Sachs’s have written this terrible song? Hans is like, people please, A) I didn’t write it, and B) it’s actually a good song so why not let the guy who wrote it sing it how it’s supposed to be sung? And then Walther sings and everyone realizes he should be a Master and so they make him one and announce him the winner of the competition/young girl and Eva is so happy that she can marry the guy she fell in love with yesterday.
BUT THEN, Walther steps back with Hans Sachs and is like…um…Hans…I changed my mind! I don’t want to be a Master NOR do I want to marry this rando! And Hans, oh my god, Hans gives a speech that actually had me rolling in my seat laughing, not believing what was happening in front of me. Hans Sachs, in an effort to convince Walther to accept his prize (a wife) and to become a member of the Masters guild, sings a prolonged speech about how important it is to be German, to continue German art, and how even art like Walther’s that is different and challenging still has to be performed within the existing culture and framework in order to, well, exist, and that he and everyone and all of Germany need “Germany” like their current system/government in order to make their art, be happy, and live good lives. In order to respect Germany and all the good things Germany has done, Walther needs to marry this girl. And then, just when you think this suddenly North Korean ending can’t get weirder, THE WHOLE CAST PULLS OUT LIFE SIZE CARDBOARD CUTOUTS OF THE FAMOUS GERMANS THAT WERE PICTURED ON THE SHOW CURTAIN, LIKE FROM BEHIND THE ACTORS COME HUGE STANDEES OF GOETHE AND VARIOUS GRIMMS AND OTTO VON BISMARCK AND WHO THE HELL KNOWS AND THAT’S HOW THIS SHOW ENDED AND OH MY GOD IT WAS THE CRAZIEST THING EVER.
There’s one more performance, Tuesday March 10. If you have seven free hours, you should go. Or just catch the ending. Worth it.
