Austin Withdrawal Is Rough, Y'all, So I Made 'Burritos'by Randi / June 9, 2015
My Playbill signed by Alison Bechdel herself, who was in my audience. Or, I was in her audience.
“Fun Home” is the kind of musical theatre that makes you grateful for the art form. Rarely are we treated to any art or entertainment that doesn’t cater to the lowest common denominator in our society or at least dumb itself down to appeal to the ignint masses. “Fun Home”, in contrast, treats its audience like intelligent, thinking people, and we are gifted the most heart-aching, mature, and deep show in years.
People think “Broadway Musical” should mean something diverting, with fun and dancing and repetitive, catchy songs about trivial happy things. And some shows are and should be like that. But modern shows need to challenge the genre and the audience in new ways to keep it growing and improving. New scores should develop emotions in ways words can’t; that’s kind of the point of having music in a play or like in the world, to express what words can’t. “Next to Normal” did all this and was revolutionary and boundary-pushing, but that was 6 or so years ago; nothing since has been up to the challenge.
Until now. “Fun Home” picks up that gauntlet thrown by “Next to Normal” and runs farther than ever. I think “Fun Home” will catch on and become more popular, and will continue to break barriers in this kind of storytelling. It seems like a really unlikely musical, given its subject matter, but it geniusly uses music to deepen its storytelling rather than embellish. The result is far more important and remarkable than anyone would have predicted.
“Fun Home” is based on the graphic novel of the same name by Alison Bechdel. If that name sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve heard of the Bechdel Test for movies: when two female characters are in a scene together and talk about something other than a man, it passes. (Movies rarely pass this test.) So Bechdel is professionally a very noteworthy modern voice. Her personal story, on the other hand, is the basis for the novel and the show; Tony winner Lisa Kron wrote the show’s book based tightly on its source material. It chronicles Alison’s upbringing in a small country town of Pennsylvania, from when she’s a little kid discovering herself and her sexuality; to when she’s a college student accepting who she is while learning more about her disciplined and particular father; to the modern-day adult looking back on her relationship with her father. Bruce Bechdel, a very rigid and exacting man, hid his own homosexuality his entire life. The story is told from grown-up Alison’s perspective as she looks back on her childhood and tries to come to grips with her father’s suicide (not a spoiler, real person, point of show). So, yeah, not the most expected story for a Broadway musical, but it works so well that you’ll be questioning your assumptions about everything, not just musical theatre.
Grown-up Alison (played by a superb Beth Malone (Tony nominee)) takes us on a tour through her memories of her younger years, as she tries to accurately recall the memories to draw, as her comics were what helped her deal with her complicated relationship with her father. As she revisits her childhood museum-like home, the funeral home her family ran (hence the title, what they referred to it as, the ‘fun home’), and different moments with her family, we watch with her as she witnesses her childhood memories being lived by the younger versions of herself (Sydney Lucas as Young Alison, an absolute legend in the making, and Emily Skeggs as Middle Alison (both Tony nominees)). She laughs along with us as she sees her little self and her little brothers stage a hilarious musical commercial for the fun home. Watching little kids pop out of caskets and dance on them is shocking and hilarious and the happiest time of the heavy show. She smiles along with us at the most poignant moments in her life, like when her younger self, always yearning for contact with her father, goes ‘flying’, balancing on Bruce’s feet as he lies down with his legs up, a happy memory of the best of their relationship that remains untarnished. Just thinking about that moment makes me cry.
Young Alison’s relationship with her father is the crux of this story, and it’s a wonder. You clearly see that they have a bond but one that is easily strained, especially when she pushes his rigid lines and rules. She doesn’t want to wear barrettes or dresses, but he can’t allow the blurring of gender boundaries, an obvious result of his hidden side and the shame he feels at not being what he feels he’s supposed to be. Their beautiful house is decorated perfectly with antiques and museum-worthy furniture that he dictates be positioned exactly as he says. He controls fastidiously anything he can because he can’t control himself or his urges as he believes he should. And you see all this so well in the subtle and poignant portrayal of Bruce by Michael Cerveris, the great. His Tony win was completely deserved; his portrayal is beautiful and crushing and I was rooting for him even though he’s a past winner (I am usually socialist in my awards decisions but not for him). His nuanced Bruce makes you feel terrible for his tragic persona even when his inability to control his urges leads him to make terrible decisions, like leaving his little kids alone in a NYC apartment so he can go cruising, or having flings with his underage high school students. It’s this loving but lacking relationship with his young daughter that makes it so hard to watch as it strains further, as she grows and becomes more self aware as a college student. Middle Alison accepts and embraces her personality and her sexuality as a young lesbian, and with this evolution her relationship with her father weakens, because he can never accept himself as his daughter has learned to do. Her coming out is barely acknowledged by her family, not out of disrespect or denial but because it would shatter the very fragile world her parents strived to keep balanced. And yes, her mother (Judy Kuhn) was aware and struggled her whole life to keep quiet and pretend that everything was fine.
Bruce and Alison’s final encounter is so perfectly and tragically portrayed as a silent car ride, with Alison, the grown-up who never got to spend time with her father, taking over the memory from Middle Alison. Beth Malone tearfully sings to her former self to say something to her father before the chance is gone, yelling to hurry up before the ride is over, as she knows in hindsight that it soon will be.
This story would work as a play, sure, but the music makes it so much more felt and heart-breaking. One of the best songs, “Ring of Keys”, is a startled realization that little Alison can dress however she wants, when she sees “an old-school butch”, as her older self remembers and explains (and as CBS/the FCC f-ing had them change on their Tony Awards performance because I guess some Americans aren’t okay with the word butch???!!!). Sydney’s performance of this song is so thoughtful and natural and incredible that it’s hard to believe she’s a child. No child actor has ever been this talented in history. It’s why she was considered the front-runner for the Tony Awards. Her fiercest competition was thought to be not from winner Ruthie Ann Miles (for “The King & I”) but from the actress who plays her mother, the great Judy Kuhn. Quiet, clearly long-suffering, she surprises us when she tells her college aged daughter about her father’s secret and that she’s known for, well, for “Days & Days & Days”, as her astounding, stunning big song goes. She freaking kills it, sharing how hard it has been to silently let her husband dictate and destroy their lives and how she sat by and watched for so long as nothing changed. In just one song, Kuhn defines and redefines her entire character’s story and adds new layers of wrenching emotion to the show as a whole. It must be such a pleasure to play a complex character for once (Kuhn originated the thankless role of Cosette in the original Broadway production of “Les Miserables”).
“Fun Home” is a flawless show that in only 100 minutes presents such depth and range of emotion and experience and it is all completely spell-binding. That it won the Tony Award shows that audiences and musical theatre as a genre are both ready to be treated with respect and given art that is worthy of being called art. (Of course, last night’s premature closure of “The Visit” argues in the opposite direction but we can’t win every battle.) I hope everyone sees it, learns from it, and remembers it as a benchmark for future shows. This is the direction Broadway needs to move in, and it’s a relief that people seem to accept that.
“Fun Home” is based on the graphic novel of the same name by Alison Bechdel. If that name sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve heard of the Bechdel Test for movies: when two female characters are in a scene together and talk about something other than a man, it passes. (Movies rarely pass this test.) So Bechdel is professionally a very noteworthy modern voice. Her personal story, on the other hand, is the basis for the novel and the show; Tony winner Lisa Kron wrote the show’s book based tightly on its source material. It chronicles Alison’s upbringing in a small country town of Pennsylvania, from when she’s a little kid discovering herself and her sexuality; to when she’s a college student accepting who she is while learning more about her disciplined and particular father; to the modern-day adult looking back on her relationship with her father. Bruce Bechdel, a very rigid and exacting man, hid his own homosexuality his entire life. The story is told from grown-up Alison’s perspective as she looks back on her childhood and tries to come to grips with her father’s suicide (not a spoiler, real person, point of show). So, yeah, not the most expected story for a Broadway musical, but it works so well that you’ll be questioning your assumptions about everything, not just musical theatre.
Grown-up Alison (played by a superb Beth Malone (Tony nominee)) takes us on a tour through her memories of her younger years, as she tries to accurately recall the memories to draw, as her comics were what helped her deal with her complicated relationship with her father. As she revisits her childhood museum-like home, the funeral home her family ran (hence the title, what they referred to it as, the ‘fun home’), and different moments with her family, we watch with her as she witnesses her childhood memories being lived by the younger versions of herself (Sydney Lucas as Young Alison, an absolute legend in the making, and Emily Skeggs as Middle Alison (both Tony nominees)). She laughs along with us as she sees her little self and her little brothers stage a hilarious musical commercial for the fun home. Watching little kids pop out of caskets and dance on them is shocking and hilarious and the happiest time of the heavy show. She smiles along with us at the most poignant moments in her life, like when her younger self, always yearning for contact with her father, goes ‘flying’, balancing on Bruce’s feet as he lies down with his legs up, a happy memory of the best of their relationship that remains untarnished. Just thinking about that moment makes me cry.
Young Alison’s relationship with her father is the crux of this story, and it’s a wonder. You clearly see that they have a bond but one that is easily strained, especially when she pushes his rigid lines and rules. She doesn’t want to wear barrettes or dresses, but he can’t allow the blurring of gender boundaries, an obvious result of his hidden side and the shame he feels at not being what he feels he’s supposed to be. Their beautiful house is decorated perfectly with antiques and museum-worthy furniture that he dictates be positioned exactly as he says. He controls fastidiously anything he can because he can’t control himself or his urges as he believes he should. And you see all this so well in the subtle and poignant portrayal of Bruce by Michael Cerveris, the great. His Tony win was completely deserved; his portrayal is beautiful and crushing and I was rooting for him even though he’s a past winner (I am usually socialist in my awards decisions but not for him). His nuanced Bruce makes you feel terrible for his tragic persona even when his inability to control his urges leads him to make terrible decisions, like leaving his little kids alone in a NYC apartment so he can go cruising, or having flings with his underage high school students. It’s this loving but lacking relationship with his young daughter that makes it so hard to watch as it strains further, as she grows and becomes more self aware as a college student. Middle Alison accepts and embraces her personality and her sexuality as a young lesbian, and with this evolution her relationship with her father weakens, because he can never accept himself as his daughter has learned to do. Her coming out is barely acknowledged by her family, not out of disrespect or denial but because it would shatter the very fragile world her parents strived to keep balanced. And yes, her mother (Judy Kuhn) was aware and struggled her whole life to keep quiet and pretend that everything was fine.
Bruce and Alison’s final encounter is so perfectly and tragically portrayed as a silent car ride, with Alison, the grown-up who never got to spend time with her father, taking over the memory from Middle Alison. Beth Malone tearfully sings to her former self to say something to her father before the chance is gone, yelling to hurry up before the ride is over, as she knows in hindsight that it soon will be.
This story would work as a play, sure, but the music makes it so much more felt and heart-breaking. One of the best songs, “Ring of Keys”, is a startled realization that little Alison can dress however she wants, when she sees “an old-school butch”, as her older self remembers and explains (and as CBS/the FCC f-ing had them change on their Tony Awards performance because I guess some Americans aren’t okay with the word butch???!!!). Sydney’s performance of this song is so thoughtful and natural and incredible that it’s hard to believe she’s a child. No child actor has ever been this talented in history. It’s why she was considered the front-runner for the Tony Awards. Her fiercest competition was thought to be not from winner Ruthie Ann Miles (for “The King & I”) but from the actress who plays her mother, the great Judy Kuhn. Quiet, clearly long-suffering, she surprises us when she tells her college aged daughter about her father’s secret and that she’s known for, well, for “Days & Days & Days”, as her astounding, stunning big song goes. She freaking kills it, sharing how hard it has been to silently let her husband dictate and destroy their lives and how she sat by and watched for so long as nothing changed. In just one song, Kuhn defines and redefines her entire character’s story and adds new layers of wrenching emotion to the show as a whole. It must be such a pleasure to play a complex character for once (Kuhn originated the thankless role of Cosette in the original Broadway production of “Les Miserables”).
“Fun Home” is a flawless show that in only 100 minutes presents such depth and range of emotion and experience and it is all completely spell-binding. That it won the Tony Award shows that audiences and musical theatre as a genre are both ready to be treated with respect and given art that is worthy of being called art. (Of course, last night’s premature closure of “The Visit” argues in the opposite direction but we can’t win every battle.) I hope everyone sees it, learns from it, and remembers it as a benchmark for future shows. This is the direction Broadway needs to move in, and it’s a relief that people seem to accept that.
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“The Rink” at Southwark Playhouse: Excellent Production Gives New Life to Kander & Ebb Show
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about “The Rink”, at the Southwark Playhouse until June 23.
Confirming our long-held belief that the best of London musical theatre happens at Southwark Playhouse, their latest production of “The Rink” is a flawless gem. The 10th venture from theatre gods Kander & Ebb, “The Rink” tells the story of Anna, an Italian-American woman with an estranged daughter, who owns a rundown roller-skating rink on the boardwalk by a changing-for-the-worse seaside. The original 1984 production starred Chita Rivera and Liza Minnelli as the mother and daughter, so if you were alive to witness that you probably died from the experience. It won Chita the Tony, yet was poorly received by critics, especially sourpuss Frank Rich at the failing New York Times. (Fun fact: Director Rob Marshall was a performer in that production.) I can’t imagine how different that production had to have been from the brilliance that’s occurring at the Southwark Playhouse right now, because it may be the best musical production on a London stage right now and I know I can’t compare myself to the New York Times (I don’t support Nazis, for one), this shit’s gonna be a rave.
“The Rink” introduces us to Anna Antonelli as she greets a crew of worker men at her skating rink. They are ready to clear out all the junk and demolish the property so she can sell it and move away from it and move on with her life. Anna wants to get rid of every single thing in the many boxes, like she wants to clear this clutter from her life and clear all the memories from her mind. But her estranged daughter Angel arrives to stop her mother from selling, saying that it’s theirs, not hers, even though she hasn’t been home or seen her mother for the better part of a decade. Naturally, the surprise reunion brings a lot of emotions and repressed memories to the surface as the two women deal with their relationship and all they’ve been through.
A lot of the credit for how winning this production is goes to the star, Caroline O’Connor, who was last seen on Broadway in “Anastasia” hamming it up as the kooky assistant to the queen or whatever grandmama Romanov is. I only know O’Connor as a performer in America, but she’s English and built up a career in Australia first. Incredibly, she understudied the role of Angel, the daughter, in the first London production of “The Rink” in the ‘80s, which helps explain how she seems to understand every nuance of this role and show and sell it so completely. From the very first number, “Chief Cook and Bottle Washer” (which I didn’t know was from this so I got excited when I recognized it), she cements herself as a comedic force to be reckoned with, with impeccable timing. It helps that that song is a fantastic way to introduce a funny yet short-tempered woman right off the bat. Kander & Ebb really know what they’re doing.
The opening triumph of “Bottle Washer” is solidified with electrifying performances of song after song that quickly draw you into the show’s drama while making you laugh constantly. The mother-daughter dynamic between Anna and her daughter Angel, played by a fantastic Gemma Sutton, feels so real that you believe it so fully, all their bickering about superficial things and all their struggles to understand each other over the more important issues, all happening as Angel tries to stop her mother from throwing their memories out with their possessions. It’s one of the first times I noticed in a musical that the acting was stronger than the singing. And the singing was pretty good.
What takes this production to new heights is the subtle direction from Adam Lenson, who creates emotional moments that devastate amid the comical parts. The main conceit is that the ensemble members playing the worker crew slide seamlessly between their present day characters and figures from the women’s past, all signified by a change in the lighting or the music. In one of the most superb scenes, Stewart Clarke’s workman would dig into an unmarked box, pull out a blue crystal goblet and ask Anna “what’s this?” and in an instant he would be Anna’s ex-husband Dino giving Anna these goblets for their anniversary. The movement in and out of present and past is impeccably done, and it allows for the high comedy to give way effortlessly to poignant drama. As the show progresses, we see more and more of the past as we are given the opportunity to piece together what happened to drive these two women apart. We see that Dino becomes violent and unstable after he comes back from the war, yet with the same disdain for family life. We see Anna neglect her daughter in an attempt to prove her own desirability, yet risk everything to shield her daughter from the ugly truth.
The flashbacks also describe what happened to this town to leave the rink in such a shambles. A standout ensemble member, Ross Dawes, morphed into one of Anna’s older lady friends with a scarf around his head, as he and the other ‘ladies’ bemoaned the state of things, with hooligans coming in and taking over with their violence and loud music. The guys were really funny in these scenes, so you weren’t prepared for these sweet old ladies’ attempts at standing their ground in front of these thugs to end in serious violence, for Anna too. Everything we see explains and supports her decision to sell and get the hell out of there and not take anything with her, yet everything we see from Angel’s past defends her desire to stay and bring back some of that magic she used to feel as a kid at the rink. She sings often of the colored lights she remembers shining here, and you can’t fault her for wanting to recapture some of the only happiness she’s felt in her life. For a show about whether or not to sell an old roller skating rink, this musical is exceptionally compelling and moving.
Despite the end of the first act dragging a little, there were no bits that I would cut (and that’s saying something because I always want to make cuts), thanks to Kander & Ebb’s great score and Terrence McNally’s strong book. All of it informed the central conflict or reminded the ladies of the good times they had here, like the flashback that included the number we all were waiting for – the dance on roller skates that brought the house down. It was like they were tap dancing, but just happened to be wearing roller skates. This amazing, joyous memory was one that the girls would surely both want to keep, and one of the many in this show that audiences will treasure.
INFORMATION
“The Rink” is playing at Southwark Theatre until June 23, and tickets are only $25 (remember that is in pounddollars). If there’s any justice, it should transfer to the West End, although this tiny theatre is an advantage for this show.
STAGE DOOR
The situation at the Southwark is unique, because the building is just a cramped lobby-bar and then a hallway leading to the auditorium. There’s no stage door, and everyone – audience, cast, crew, bartenders – quickly ends up crammed together in this room. Whether you want to meet an actor or not, you’ll end up bumping into them as you come out of the bathroom or wait for a drink. It usually is great because it’s not awkward like it is at stage door; you’re all just occupying this same space and it would be weirder for you not to acknowledge that the actor you’re trying to pass did a great job. However, this was my first bad experience with this set-up. Most of the cast was super friendly and eager to chat, including Gemma and all of the men. But when I and a few other fans (not with me) tried to talk to Caroline, she ignored us. Now, I am the first person to remind fans that no actor ever has to stage door, and whether they decide to or not is completely up to them and they should not be judged on it. But when you are just in a tiny bar talking to people, it is not a good look for you to ignore people who are literally next to you. Caroline spoke with a few guys who knew someone who knew her for a good 20 minutes as we stood there just trying to say hello and great job, and when they mentioned that they would let her get to her other fans (gee thanks), she turned and went to someone that she knew. Despite standing next to her for more than a half hour, she never looked at me or the other girls I was standing with. It’s one thing to not do the whole stage door thing, but to ignore people who are literally next to you, waiting to talk to you just at a bar takes nerve. It kind of broke my heart because I wanted to tell her how amazing her performance was, sure, but also do you know how long I’ve been waiting to meet Nini Legs in the Air? YES THAT WAS HER. Ugh. Anyway. That’s my story. At least the following week Renee Fleming gave me a hug so you know, that’s much better especially since that’s the person who you’d understand being ‘above meeting fans’ yet wasn’t in the least.
A lot of the credit for how winning this production is goes to the star, Caroline O’Connor, who was last seen on Broadway in “Anastasia” hamming it up as the kooky assistant to the queen or whatever grandmama Romanov is. I only know O’Connor as a performer in America, but she’s English and built up a career in Australia first. Incredibly, she understudied the role of Angel, the daughter, in the first London production of “The Rink” in the ‘80s, which helps explain how she seems to understand every nuance of this role and show and sell it so completely. From the very first number, “Chief Cook and Bottle Washer” (which I didn’t know was from this so I got excited when I recognized it), she cements herself as a comedic force to be reckoned with, with impeccable timing. It helps that that song is a fantastic way to introduce a funny yet short-tempered woman right off the bat. Kander & Ebb really know what they’re doing.
The opening triumph of “Bottle Washer” is solidified with electrifying performances of song after song that quickly draw you into the show’s drama while making you laugh constantly. The mother-daughter dynamic between Anna and her daughter Angel, played by a fantastic Gemma Sutton, feels so real that you believe it so fully, all their bickering about superficial things and all their struggles to understand each other over the more important issues, all happening as Angel tries to stop her mother from throwing their memories out with their possessions. It’s one of the first times I noticed in a musical that the acting was stronger than the singing. And the singing was pretty good.
What takes this production to new heights is the subtle direction from Adam Lenson, who creates emotional moments that devastate amid the comical parts. The main conceit is that the ensemble members playing the worker crew slide seamlessly between their present day characters and figures from the women’s past, all signified by a change in the lighting or the music. In one of the most superb scenes, Stewart Clarke’s workman would dig into an unmarked box, pull out a blue crystal goblet and ask Anna “what’s this?” and in an instant he would be Anna’s ex-husband Dino giving Anna these goblets for their anniversary. The movement in and out of present and past is impeccably done, and it allows for the high comedy to give way effortlessly to poignant drama. As the show progresses, we see more and more of the past as we are given the opportunity to piece together what happened to drive these two women apart. We see that Dino becomes violent and unstable after he comes back from the war, yet with the same disdain for family life. We see Anna neglect her daughter in an attempt to prove her own desirability, yet risk everything to shield her daughter from the ugly truth.
The flashbacks also describe what happened to this town to leave the rink in such a shambles. A standout ensemble member, Ross Dawes, morphed into one of Anna’s older lady friends with a scarf around his head, as he and the other ‘ladies’ bemoaned the state of things, with hooligans coming in and taking over with their violence and loud music. The guys were really funny in these scenes, so you weren’t prepared for these sweet old ladies’ attempts at standing their ground in front of these thugs to end in serious violence, for Anna too. Everything we see explains and supports her decision to sell and get the hell out of there and not take anything with her, yet everything we see from Angel’s past defends her desire to stay and bring back some of that magic she used to feel as a kid at the rink. She sings often of the colored lights she remembers shining here, and you can’t fault her for wanting to recapture some of the only happiness she’s felt in her life. For a show about whether or not to sell an old roller skating rink, this musical is exceptionally compelling and moving.
Despite the end of the first act dragging a little, there were no bits that I would cut (and that’s saying something because I always want to make cuts), thanks to Kander & Ebb’s great score and Terrence McNally’s strong book. All of it informed the central conflict or reminded the ladies of the good times they had here, like the flashback that included the number we all were waiting for – the dance on roller skates that brought the house down. It was like they were tap dancing, but just happened to be wearing roller skates. This amazing, joyous memory was one that the girls would surely both want to keep, and one of the many in this show that audiences will treasure.
INFORMATION
“The Rink” is playing at Southwark Theatre until June 23, and tickets are only $25 (remember that is in pounddollars). If there’s any justice, it should transfer to the West End, although this tiny theatre is an advantage for this show.
STAGE DOOR
The situation at the Southwark is unique, because the building is just a cramped lobby-bar and then a hallway leading to the auditorium. There’s no stage door, and everyone – audience, cast, crew, bartenders – quickly ends up crammed together in this room. Whether you want to meet an actor or not, you’ll end up bumping into them as you come out of the bathroom or wait for a drink. It usually is great because it’s not awkward like it is at stage door; you’re all just occupying this same space and it would be weirder for you not to acknowledge that the actor you’re trying to pass did a great job. However, this was my first bad experience with this set-up. Most of the cast was super friendly and eager to chat, including Gemma and all of the men. But when I and a few other fans (not with me) tried to talk to Caroline, she ignored us. Now, I am the first person to remind fans that no actor ever has to stage door, and whether they decide to or not is completely up to them and they should not be judged on it. But when you are just in a tiny bar talking to people, it is not a good look for you to ignore people who are literally next to you. Caroline spoke with a few guys who knew someone who knew her for a good 20 minutes as we stood there just trying to say hello and great job, and when they mentioned that they would let her get to her other fans (gee thanks), she turned and went to someone that she knew. Despite standing next to her for more than a half hour, she never looked at me or the other girls I was standing with. It’s one thing to not do the whole stage door thing, but to ignore people who are literally next to you, waiting to talk to you just at a bar takes nerve. It kind of broke my heart because I wanted to tell her how amazing her performance was, sure, but also do you know how long I’ve been waiting to meet Nini Legs in the Air? YES THAT WAS HER. Ugh. Anyway. That’s my story. At least the following week Renee Fleming gave me a hug so you know, that’s much better especially since that’s the person who you’d understand being ‘above meeting fans’ yet wasn’t in the least.
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.
