American Buffalo on the West End: Not About The Wild Animal, Sadlyby Randi / June 24, 2015
macauley.cuny.edu
WHAT is happening in London’s opera scene? A whole lot of shit, that’s what’s happening. Like there wasn’t enough misogyny in the world and in all forms of entertainment, now London’s opera bigwigs apparently decided that all the biggest summer productions at the city’s most respected opera houses would not only be anti-feminist but anti-female, pro-rape, pro-violence against women, and not good. Big steaming poop messes are at the English National Opera and the Royal Opera House and are unrelated to this week’s heat wave.
First off, the one that has been in the news. Guillaume Tell at the Royal Opera. This Rossini opera is about William Tell, could you have guessed? You know what’s interesting about this show? It was the last opera Rossini wrote even though he lived for 40 more years after it. I think he was shamed by nighttime visions of this future production that kept him up at night and he was all, I’m never giving these futuristic f**kers any more fodder to be assholes with, or something.
So, it starts with the Lone Ranger theme, and then villagers sing about weddings, archery contests occur, and Swiss people get upset that their country is oppressed (by Austria). After two acts of that comes a scene in which soldier baddies celebrate 100 years Austrian oppression in Switzerland. The baddies drink and sing and then notice that Tell and his son aren’t joining in, so they’re like, oh we gotta arrest you, even though we respect what a great archer you are, do you want to tell your son to run or is he gonna stick around?
So that’s the third act of Guillaume Tell. Do you know what happens in the current abomination at the Royal Opera House? When they celebrate Austrian rule, the soldiers drink and sing and sing and drink, and then they take the servant girl who is providing the alcohol, and they force themselves on her, and they pour all the wine on her so she’s soaked through, and then the men put her on the table and take off her clothes (the audience sees her naked), and all the many many men sexually assault her further at gunpoint before Tell rescues her.
That doesn’t sound like the opera as written, does it? It’s not. That is utter bullshit completely added in by the dirty f**kface director Damiano Michieletto, bag o’ dicks director of opera at Covent Garden Kasper Hotlen, and the producers at the ROH. None of that violence adds anything to the show, so there is no excuse for it. I’m sure they argue that they wanted to show how terrible those men were, but it was not necessary to do so, especially to such an extent. All it really accomplished was reminding everyone in the audience that people still consider violence against women to be totally okay and permitted. Luckily, the audience booed during this scene, so much so that news outlets actually did mention the booing, but how many people walked out? How many cancelled their subscriptions? What’s more important, and disturbing: how many people are now buying tickets to the rest of the performances to catch this ‘newsworthy’ production?
This production should have been vilified for this gratuitous brutality and I know I will not be giving the Royal Opera House any money until they apologize. Indeed, Holten said they will not apologize for the scene and they refuse to edit it even though it will be broadcast in movie theatres. He described it as “an honest attempt to talk about the reality of war” and said people maybe “felt we should have warned them better, as people may not want to be exposed to sexual violence”. That’s not it, you ignorant douchebag. People don’t want to see in their entertainment depictions of what at least 60% of your audience has to live with and fear every day of their lives if it is not necessary to convey the message you hope to. And this was not necessary. Did you know, Kasper, that that’s the definition of gratuitous? I’m sure it was really fun for all you men involved to be like, ‘oh hey we can do this shit because it makes people realize how bad war is.’ A) People know how bad war is. B) All it did was remind people how terrible modern society still is when it comes to understanding rape culture. You, sir, do not understand it.
***
Now to the one that has not received any media attention that I know of, probably because people with the power to make things known in the media don’t really realize how misogynistic this one is, especially since there’s only so much opera coverage allowed by the populace. “Carmen”, Bizet’s famous opera about the wiles of a Gypsy woman, is playing at the English National Opera. First things first, the ENO does all their productions in English. It sucks. I’ve been there a lot, and the productions are sometimes great, but it’s never my or most opera fans preference to see works translated from their original language. I saw “Rigoletto” once in Austria and it was in German instead of Italian. It was terrible. Oh but they did the famous aria “La donna e mobile” in Italian. Just that part.
Moving on, “Carmen” is a pretty misogynistic opera to begin with, but ENO succeeded in making it even more gratuitously so with this ‘modernized’ production. I don’t understand why directors feel the need to unnecessarily change aspects of great works just for the sake of changing it, when it doesn’t add any artistic value. There are some alterations or reimaginings or revivals that are worthy, like the recent “Spring Awakening” production in California that used many deaf and disabled cast members to highlight the rampant lack of understanding and capability in the show. That sounds brilliant. The half-assed modernization of “Carmen” was not: it kept most of the same ideas – lots of soldiers, being in Spain, smugglers – and added hysterically hideous ‘90s-era-Italy outfits and like 6 cars, doing the smuggling, onstage at one time. I don’t know what they were going for.
So “Carmen” tells the story of a seductive gypsy who seduces men and is a gypsy. She is a cigarette girl among hundreds of cigarette girls who apparently work in the same barracks as hundreds of soldiers. It was a big cast. The soldiers are all disgusting. They treat the women like toys and Carmen like a piece of meat. They grope everyone and repeatedly stick her face in their crotchular regions. But Carmen enjoys it, apparently, because she is seductive, so she is asking for it. Hence it being a super misogynistic show as written, differentiating it from the above monstrosity.
The soldiers beg for her to choose a lover and stop taunting them by existing, so she chooses Jose, who was ignoring her. Smart plan! She sings her super famous aria that goes ‘da dum dum dum!’ about how those who love her should beware. Then all the girls fight like really actually fight, because who doesn’t love women fighting and hitting and scratching each other with their claws? Carmen is accused of whipping out a knife in what should have been merely a skin fight, so the male official says she’s going to be arrested and tells Jose to tie her hands together while they figure out what to do because small man brain. That’s what happens normally.
Here, the men tie Carmen to a flagpole with the official’s workbelt, take off her shirtdress, and position her so she’s on her knees. People I talked to at intermission thought this was disgusting. One woman who knows the opera well felt that tying her up completely, as opposed to just her hands, unnecessarily made her subordinate and submissive and was just gross.
Carmen then beguiles Jose, tasked with guarding her, and he becomes pretty infatuated with her. He lets her escape, whereupon he is imprisoned for a month or two.
When he gets out, he and we find Carmen with her smuggler friends, who are driving regular-sized cars across the stage to show how modern the show is. Three women (and one little girl, sadly) compose the group with 3 or so indistinguishably disgusting men, who assault them and grope them all with no regard for which woman it is or what she’s doing or how drunk she is (very drunk). They meet Escamillo, the famous toreador, who sings the famous toreador song (and not very well, also sadly). Escamillo ‘falls in love’ with Carmen, who is instead in love with her Jose, whom she is now seeing for the second time ever. Jose has to go back to camp for nighttime, and Carmen, being an awful no good female who doesn’t understand that men have to work, gets really upset that he isn’t willing to sacrifice his job for her, because if he really loved her he would. This is apparently how Rossini thought women’s little brains worked. As written, Jose’s superior officer arrives looking for Carmen (every man thinks he is in love with her), and Jose fights him. Having done that, he can’t go back to soldiering, so he joins the smugglers.
Here, he punches Carmen instead, for mocking his need to go back to work. She falls to the ground in fetal position, where she remains while Jose sings not about how he’s sorry but about how much he loves her. Then he cuddles up next to her and declares his love more. And what choice does she have but to accept it? What other kind of love could she possibly know?
Then more cars appear and it’s really just nonsense.
Then, Carmen gets bored with Jose, because that’s how women are, those fickle people, and the toreador tells her he loves her. Hey guess what, she returns the favor now. That happens really with no build up, I thought she was lying, but that’s how women do, just transfer affection really easily when they’re bored. Then Carmen and her friends do tarot cards, and Carmen gets the one saying she’s going to die. No one else seems really worried, though Carmen tells them it’s probably Jose.
Escamillo invites pretty much all of Spain to see him in his next bull-fight, and during that famous song we get to watch 100 or so actors in neon shorts and smartphones jumping up and down in unison for a good 2 minutes. It’s like they stopped trying. Anyway, outside the arena, Carmen and her two girlfriends are about to enter, before they leave her and are like, ‘Hey don’t get killed, we know that’s a possibility but we’re going to leave you alone now.’ Carmen keeps a watchful eye until she needs to do her makeup, and Jose sneaks in while she is looking in the compact, because oh girls with their makeup! So silly! So Jose is devastated that she no longer wants to be with him, even though he hit her, and even though now she loves someone else, so he kills her. At the end, after Jose kills her, he normally confesses to the murder. Here, instead, he grabs her by the lifeless foot and drags her offstage as the lights go out. Cute!
So ENO is not nearly as guilty as ROH for disgusting and gratuitous anti-female sentiment, because so much of it is in the text, but how they chose to augment what was already a plethora of misogyny reinforces how normal all the people involved considered it to be. This already has violence against women, but let’s make it worse! This one doesn’t have violence against women, so let’s add a lot, for art’s sake. It’s not art, guys. It’s violence, and it’s perpetuating the acceptance and sickening tolerance of rape culture.
So that’s the third act of Guillaume Tell. Do you know what happens in the current abomination at the Royal Opera House? When they celebrate Austrian rule, the soldiers drink and sing and sing and drink, and then they take the servant girl who is providing the alcohol, and they force themselves on her, and they pour all the wine on her so she’s soaked through, and then the men put her on the table and take off her clothes (the audience sees her naked), and all the many many men sexually assault her further at gunpoint before Tell rescues her.
That doesn’t sound like the opera as written, does it? It’s not. That is utter bullshit completely added in by the dirty f**kface director Damiano Michieletto, bag o’ dicks director of opera at Covent Garden Kasper Hotlen, and the producers at the ROH. None of that violence adds anything to the show, so there is no excuse for it. I’m sure they argue that they wanted to show how terrible those men were, but it was not necessary to do so, especially to such an extent. All it really accomplished was reminding everyone in the audience that people still consider violence against women to be totally okay and permitted. Luckily, the audience booed during this scene, so much so that news outlets actually did mention the booing, but how many people walked out? How many cancelled their subscriptions? What’s more important, and disturbing: how many people are now buying tickets to the rest of the performances to catch this ‘newsworthy’ production?
This production should have been vilified for this gratuitous brutality and I know I will not be giving the Royal Opera House any money until they apologize. Indeed, Holten said they will not apologize for the scene and they refuse to edit it even though it will be broadcast in movie theatres. He described it as “an honest attempt to talk about the reality of war” and said people maybe “felt we should have warned them better, as people may not want to be exposed to sexual violence”. That’s not it, you ignorant douchebag. People don’t want to see in their entertainment depictions of what at least 60% of your audience has to live with and fear every day of their lives if it is not necessary to convey the message you hope to. And this was not necessary. Did you know, Kasper, that that’s the definition of gratuitous? I’m sure it was really fun for all you men involved to be like, ‘oh hey we can do this shit because it makes people realize how bad war is.’ A) People know how bad war is. B) All it did was remind people how terrible modern society still is when it comes to understanding rape culture. You, sir, do not understand it.
***
Now to the one that has not received any media attention that I know of, probably because people with the power to make things known in the media don’t really realize how misogynistic this one is, especially since there’s only so much opera coverage allowed by the populace. “Carmen”, Bizet’s famous opera about the wiles of a Gypsy woman, is playing at the English National Opera. First things first, the ENO does all their productions in English. It sucks. I’ve been there a lot, and the productions are sometimes great, but it’s never my or most opera fans preference to see works translated from their original language. I saw “Rigoletto” once in Austria and it was in German instead of Italian. It was terrible. Oh but they did the famous aria “La donna e mobile” in Italian. Just that part.
Moving on, “Carmen” is a pretty misogynistic opera to begin with, but ENO succeeded in making it even more gratuitously so with this ‘modernized’ production. I don’t understand why directors feel the need to unnecessarily change aspects of great works just for the sake of changing it, when it doesn’t add any artistic value. There are some alterations or reimaginings or revivals that are worthy, like the recent “Spring Awakening” production in California that used many deaf and disabled cast members to highlight the rampant lack of understanding and capability in the show. That sounds brilliant. The half-assed modernization of “Carmen” was not: it kept most of the same ideas – lots of soldiers, being in Spain, smugglers – and added hysterically hideous ‘90s-era-Italy outfits and like 6 cars, doing the smuggling, onstage at one time. I don’t know what they were going for.
So “Carmen” tells the story of a seductive gypsy who seduces men and is a gypsy. She is a cigarette girl among hundreds of cigarette girls who apparently work in the same barracks as hundreds of soldiers. It was a big cast. The soldiers are all disgusting. They treat the women like toys and Carmen like a piece of meat. They grope everyone and repeatedly stick her face in their crotchular regions. But Carmen enjoys it, apparently, because she is seductive, so she is asking for it. Hence it being a super misogynistic show as written, differentiating it from the above monstrosity.
The soldiers beg for her to choose a lover and stop taunting them by existing, so she chooses Jose, who was ignoring her. Smart plan! She sings her super famous aria that goes ‘da dum dum dum!’ about how those who love her should beware. Then all the girls fight like really actually fight, because who doesn’t love women fighting and hitting and scratching each other with their claws? Carmen is accused of whipping out a knife in what should have been merely a skin fight, so the male official says she’s going to be arrested and tells Jose to tie her hands together while they figure out what to do because small man brain. That’s what happens normally.
Here, the men tie Carmen to a flagpole with the official’s workbelt, take off her shirtdress, and position her so she’s on her knees. People I talked to at intermission thought this was disgusting. One woman who knows the opera well felt that tying her up completely, as opposed to just her hands, unnecessarily made her subordinate and submissive and was just gross.
Carmen then beguiles Jose, tasked with guarding her, and he becomes pretty infatuated with her. He lets her escape, whereupon he is imprisoned for a month or two.
When he gets out, he and we find Carmen with her smuggler friends, who are driving regular-sized cars across the stage to show how modern the show is. Three women (and one little girl, sadly) compose the group with 3 or so indistinguishably disgusting men, who assault them and grope them all with no regard for which woman it is or what she’s doing or how drunk she is (very drunk). They meet Escamillo, the famous toreador, who sings the famous toreador song (and not very well, also sadly). Escamillo ‘falls in love’ with Carmen, who is instead in love with her Jose, whom she is now seeing for the second time ever. Jose has to go back to camp for nighttime, and Carmen, being an awful no good female who doesn’t understand that men have to work, gets really upset that he isn’t willing to sacrifice his job for her, because if he really loved her he would. This is apparently how Rossini thought women’s little brains worked. As written, Jose’s superior officer arrives looking for Carmen (every man thinks he is in love with her), and Jose fights him. Having done that, he can’t go back to soldiering, so he joins the smugglers.
Here, he punches Carmen instead, for mocking his need to go back to work. She falls to the ground in fetal position, where she remains while Jose sings not about how he’s sorry but about how much he loves her. Then he cuddles up next to her and declares his love more. And what choice does she have but to accept it? What other kind of love could she possibly know?
Then more cars appear and it’s really just nonsense.
Then, Carmen gets bored with Jose, because that’s how women are, those fickle people, and the toreador tells her he loves her. Hey guess what, she returns the favor now. That happens really with no build up, I thought she was lying, but that’s how women do, just transfer affection really easily when they’re bored. Then Carmen and her friends do tarot cards, and Carmen gets the one saying she’s going to die. No one else seems really worried, though Carmen tells them it’s probably Jose.
Escamillo invites pretty much all of Spain to see him in his next bull-fight, and during that famous song we get to watch 100 or so actors in neon shorts and smartphones jumping up and down in unison for a good 2 minutes. It’s like they stopped trying. Anyway, outside the arena, Carmen and her two girlfriends are about to enter, before they leave her and are like, ‘Hey don’t get killed, we know that’s a possibility but we’re going to leave you alone now.’ Carmen keeps a watchful eye until she needs to do her makeup, and Jose sneaks in while she is looking in the compact, because oh girls with their makeup! So silly! So Jose is devastated that she no longer wants to be with him, even though he hit her, and even though now she loves someone else, so he kills her. At the end, after Jose kills her, he normally confesses to the murder. Here, instead, he grabs her by the lifeless foot and drags her offstage as the lights go out. Cute!
So ENO is not nearly as guilty as ROH for disgusting and gratuitous anti-female sentiment, because so much of it is in the text, but how they chose to augment what was already a plethora of misogyny reinforces how normal all the people involved considered it to be. This already has violence against women, but let’s make it worse! This one doesn’t have violence against women, so let’s add a lot, for art’s sake. It’s not art, guys. It’s violence, and it’s perpetuating the acceptance and sickening tolerance of rape culture.
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“The Color Purple” on Broadway: I Have Seen the Light Praise Jeebus
Describing a Broadway experience as religious tends to sound like the hyper frenzied talk of an exuberant drama student, all exaggeration for effect. Unless you mean an experience just literally on Broadway and you were at the Scientology center right across from the Richard Rodgers. No but still, as much as I love theatre I don’t usually confuse it with a message from jeebus. Yet the most repeated comment coming out of the Bernard Jacobs theatre is exactly that, that seeing ‘The Color Purple’ is an extremely religious experience and you will feel the presence of the divine and BELIEVE and TRUST and REPENT (isn’t that usually part of it). I don’t know if I can say all that or believe it but you know what what the hell I can, it’s true. JFC it’s true.
Even though it seemed too soon for a revival – I saw the original run twice as a legal adult, so like, that’s not that long ago right? right? also this isn’t Gypsy ffs – every doubter who has been given the gift of sight (of this show) has admitted they were wrong. This new production improves upon what was already a solid show with more workable, efficient direction that results in a more scaled-down amalgam to consider. It’s a transport from the London production at the Menier Chocolate Factory from a few years ago, so it’s really “The Colour Purple”. And even though the original won a Tony for the great LaChanze AND even had the incredible Fantasia as a fantastic replacement (and costarred Renee Elise Goldsberry and Brandon Victor Dixon before I knew who they were), this new cast brings everything to a new level, somehow, probably because of god or something but maybe it’s magic. Two of the best singers on the planet are starring in this, one you all know very well and one people should know but are only just learning about, except me because we’re buds because last year she ate my baked goods and liked them so that means we’re friends. Jennifer Hudson, Grammy & Oscar winning singer, is featured as Shug Avery, the famous singer and badass woman. And Cynthia Erivo, in a beyond incredible Broadway debut, plays Celie, is Celie really.
If you never saw the movie (Whoopi and Oprah? Go watch it! Also Gayle King is in it, uncredited. Opes never did anything without her), it’s about a tortured abused little girl who continues to have it pretty shitty as an adult until lesbianism saves her. I mean I joke but it is roughly that if you think about it. In more detail, it’s the entire epic story of a girl named Celie, her life from when we meet her at 14-years-old until decades later, from as bad as it gets to, well, better, and with cooler pants.
At the start, Celie is pregnant with her second child (at 14) by her rapist abusive father. When she gives birth, her father takes the baby away as he did the last one, Celie praying that they find good homes but the audience (and other characters) assuming that he kills them because he’s pretty much the worst person imaginable. Celie loves her younger sister Nettie (a great Joaquina Kalukango, which is a sick name with lots of k sounds) and they play together because they are children and they pray and they sing, which is the nice part for us because damn, their voices are beautiful. Somehow, Erivo really convinces you that she’s a young kid at the start, as does Joaquina. They’re adorable and you buy their sisterly bond. It’s pretty spectacular how Erivo grows over the course of 2 ½ hours, how her demeanor changes and most impressively her voice. Then, the evil man we know only as Mister comes by requesting to marry Nettie. Mister is played by Isaiah Johnson as incredibly hateful and evil for most of the show but then we really buy his remorse and atonement at the end somehow. He was very good. I ran into him a few blocks from the theatre after I saw it and was like “oh my god I just saw your show!” and he was like “Cool what did you think!” and I was like “You were a bastard!” I didn’t say that. I forget what I said because then Montego Glover came by and they are friends and I was just standing there like, should I sneak away quietly? Say goodbye and risk her being like who the f are you? Or just awkwardly wait? I did a mix of all three. So the father is like, Nettie is too young and too pretty to give away just yet, take Celie, she’s ugly so I’ll throw in a cow. They comment a lot about how ugly Celie is, which is ridiculous because Cynthia is a goddess but men are filth. So Celie is sent to be a wife and mother to Mister’s children, even though she’s a child, and it’s just a new man to run her life and abuse her horribly. It’s pretty depressing, but there’s some amazing comic relief in the form of the Church Ladies, the gossipy biddies who comment and cluck about all the goings on in the community, and they are ridiculously funny, singing their comments in rounds and just being hilarious.
Soon, Nettie runs away to Celie’s house after their father turns his attention to her, but then Mister, being an equally despicable person, tries to do the same, so Nettie fights him and is banished from the property. Celie writes letters to Nettie but never hears from her so she assumes she’s dead, not the truth that Mister would of course be hiding Nettie’s letters to keep Celie from ever feeling hope or joy again. Mister really was a bastard.
Years pass, and Mister’s son Harpo (Kyle Scatliffe, not Oprah’s production company) grows up and falls in love with Sofia, the best baddest-ass broad in town, played by Danielle Brooks from “Orange is the New Black” in all her hilarious and awesome glory. Not stunt casting; she went to Juilliard. Sofia is strong and doesn’t take any shit from Harpo or anyone, so Celie, poor, weak Celie who is so victimized that she can’t see that her oppression is wrong, is befuddled by her for a while. After Harpo tries to exert his male dominance over Sofia and instead Sofia beats him up, Sofia leaves town, and Shug Avery, the famous jazz singer, comes to town. Even though everything and everyone is at the highest performance grade here, you can’t help but feel the energy level rise when Hudson gets on stage. It’s pretty exciting to have someone of her celebrity on Broadway, and in a role so right for her. Her acting skills, or lack thereof, are pretty notorious, but she worked really hard here and is perfectly cast, doing a great job in all aspects of the role. A very impressive debut for an established celebrity. In fact, she will probably be nominated for a Tony, and if it weren’t for the aforementioned Renee Elise Goldsberry and the fact that Hudson is leaving the show next week, she could very well win, because people are so impressed with how well she did and, of course, so eager to bestow love on her in the form of awards to make her like them as all voters do.
So Shug is the long-time mistress of Mister, and she stays in their house and Celie is just like who is this magical person, totally intrigued and eventually in love. Shug does her part to help Mister stop beating Celie at least while she’s in the house, so that’s nice, but eventually they have their own thing and it’s quite lovely. Hudson and Erivo have wonderful, surprising chemistry, and I don’t know how Heather Headley will do in this aspect of the role when she takes over for Hudson. Shug’s love and support helps Celie recognize her own power and worth and it’s all very moving and I’m skipping a lot because I don’t want to continue going through all the details and I don’t want to spoil things for you if you haven’t seen this yet.
Aside from being a pretty darn flawless production of an emotionally moving show, the real conversation in the theatre community is about how it took this long for Erivo to get over here and why, given all the British crap Americans mindlessly and greedily gobble up, this British gem is so unknown to audiences. Well, previously unknown. She’s become the toast of the town, rightly so, and will be accepting a Tony in June if they are based on merit, which I mean awards usually aren’t but we can still hope for her. Her precise control of Celie’s growth keeps the audience by her side the whole time, so when she lets go towards the end with her big numbers, you’re both shocked at what she has been keeping inside and also you somehow just knew she had it in her. This is the kind of performance that people pray to the theatre gods to witness one day. There are videos on youtube of her singing her big 11 o’clock number “I’m Here”, so if you can’t see the show you should go watch those. But seeing this performance live, this entire flawless show, is indeed a religious experience, and not just because the majority of the audience is acting like they are at church, hooting and hollering and responding at times with “yes SING IT” and “mm hmm”s and “praise, praise” and oh my god, I’m sure you think I’m going to complain about this because I usually would, but here it is THE BEST. An effusive audience elevates this experience to a whole new level, like we are all a part of it and in it together. And it is quite special to bear witness to what is happening onstage, so the gospel church-like atmosphere reminds you that this is actually happening and that you are lucky to be a part of it.
AUDIENCE
Like I said, energetic, 100% into it, and effusive – well the good ones are. You’ll still get the annoying people on their phones (like Aretha!). But this is the rare show that makes it clear how important the audience is to live theatre so you better be present.
STAGE DOOR
It’s packed, too packed (and they’re too famous) to take pictures, but they all signed quickly at least for the people around the very small barricades. At least when I went, it was just one barricade leading out onto the street, perpendicular to the theatre/street, instead of several along the side of the theatre. Maybe this is to minimize celebrity interaction with plebs, but it definitely minimizes your ability to get autographs. They go very fast and it’s all very loud so there’s no real chance to say anything other than thank you. People are super pushy but that’s not show-specific, unfortunately!
If you never saw the movie (Whoopi and Oprah? Go watch it! Also Gayle King is in it, uncredited. Opes never did anything without her), it’s about a tortured abused little girl who continues to have it pretty shitty as an adult until lesbianism saves her. I mean I joke but it is roughly that if you think about it. In more detail, it’s the entire epic story of a girl named Celie, her life from when we meet her at 14-years-old until decades later, from as bad as it gets to, well, better, and with cooler pants.
At the start, Celie is pregnant with her second child (at 14) by her rapist abusive father. When she gives birth, her father takes the baby away as he did the last one, Celie praying that they find good homes but the audience (and other characters) assuming that he kills them because he’s pretty much the worst person imaginable. Celie loves her younger sister Nettie (a great Joaquina Kalukango, which is a sick name with lots of k sounds) and they play together because they are children and they pray and they sing, which is the nice part for us because damn, their voices are beautiful. Somehow, Erivo really convinces you that she’s a young kid at the start, as does Joaquina. They’re adorable and you buy their sisterly bond. It’s pretty spectacular how Erivo grows over the course of 2 ½ hours, how her demeanor changes and most impressively her voice. Then, the evil man we know only as Mister comes by requesting to marry Nettie. Mister is played by Isaiah Johnson as incredibly hateful and evil for most of the show but then we really buy his remorse and atonement at the end somehow. He was very good. I ran into him a few blocks from the theatre after I saw it and was like “oh my god I just saw your show!” and he was like “Cool what did you think!” and I was like “You were a bastard!” I didn’t say that. I forget what I said because then Montego Glover came by and they are friends and I was just standing there like, should I sneak away quietly? Say goodbye and risk her being like who the f are you? Or just awkwardly wait? I did a mix of all three. So the father is like, Nettie is too young and too pretty to give away just yet, take Celie, she’s ugly so I’ll throw in a cow. They comment a lot about how ugly Celie is, which is ridiculous because Cynthia is a goddess but men are filth. So Celie is sent to be a wife and mother to Mister’s children, even though she’s a child, and it’s just a new man to run her life and abuse her horribly. It’s pretty depressing, but there’s some amazing comic relief in the form of the Church Ladies, the gossipy biddies who comment and cluck about all the goings on in the community, and they are ridiculously funny, singing their comments in rounds and just being hilarious.
Soon, Nettie runs away to Celie’s house after their father turns his attention to her, but then Mister, being an equally despicable person, tries to do the same, so Nettie fights him and is banished from the property. Celie writes letters to Nettie but never hears from her so she assumes she’s dead, not the truth that Mister would of course be hiding Nettie’s letters to keep Celie from ever feeling hope or joy again. Mister really was a bastard.
Years pass, and Mister’s son Harpo (Kyle Scatliffe, not Oprah’s production company) grows up and falls in love with Sofia, the best baddest-ass broad in town, played by Danielle Brooks from “Orange is the New Black” in all her hilarious and awesome glory. Not stunt casting; she went to Juilliard. Sofia is strong and doesn’t take any shit from Harpo or anyone, so Celie, poor, weak Celie who is so victimized that she can’t see that her oppression is wrong, is befuddled by her for a while. After Harpo tries to exert his male dominance over Sofia and instead Sofia beats him up, Sofia leaves town, and Shug Avery, the famous jazz singer, comes to town. Even though everything and everyone is at the highest performance grade here, you can’t help but feel the energy level rise when Hudson gets on stage. It’s pretty exciting to have someone of her celebrity on Broadway, and in a role so right for her. Her acting skills, or lack thereof, are pretty notorious, but she worked really hard here and is perfectly cast, doing a great job in all aspects of the role. A very impressive debut for an established celebrity. In fact, she will probably be nominated for a Tony, and if it weren’t for the aforementioned Renee Elise Goldsberry and the fact that Hudson is leaving the show next week, she could very well win, because people are so impressed with how well she did and, of course, so eager to bestow love on her in the form of awards to make her like them as all voters do.
So Shug is the long-time mistress of Mister, and she stays in their house and Celie is just like who is this magical person, totally intrigued and eventually in love. Shug does her part to help Mister stop beating Celie at least while she’s in the house, so that’s nice, but eventually they have their own thing and it’s quite lovely. Hudson and Erivo have wonderful, surprising chemistry, and I don’t know how Heather Headley will do in this aspect of the role when she takes over for Hudson. Shug’s love and support helps Celie recognize her own power and worth and it’s all very moving and I’m skipping a lot because I don’t want to continue going through all the details and I don’t want to spoil things for you if you haven’t seen this yet.
Aside from being a pretty darn flawless production of an emotionally moving show, the real conversation in the theatre community is about how it took this long for Erivo to get over here and why, given all the British crap Americans mindlessly and greedily gobble up, this British gem is so unknown to audiences. Well, previously unknown. She’s become the toast of the town, rightly so, and will be accepting a Tony in June if they are based on merit, which I mean awards usually aren’t but we can still hope for her. Her precise control of Celie’s growth keeps the audience by her side the whole time, so when she lets go towards the end with her big numbers, you’re both shocked at what she has been keeping inside and also you somehow just knew she had it in her. This is the kind of performance that people pray to the theatre gods to witness one day. There are videos on youtube of her singing her big 11 o’clock number “I’m Here”, so if you can’t see the show you should go watch those. But seeing this performance live, this entire flawless show, is indeed a religious experience, and not just because the majority of the audience is acting like they are at church, hooting and hollering and responding at times with “yes SING IT” and “mm hmm”s and “praise, praise” and oh my god, I’m sure you think I’m going to complain about this because I usually would, but here it is THE BEST. An effusive audience elevates this experience to a whole new level, like we are all a part of it and in it together. And it is quite special to bear witness to what is happening onstage, so the gospel church-like atmosphere reminds you that this is actually happening and that you are lucky to be a part of it.
AUDIENCE
Like I said, energetic, 100% into it, and effusive – well the good ones are. You’ll still get the annoying people on their phones (like Aretha!). But this is the rare show that makes it clear how important the audience is to live theatre so you better be present.
STAGE DOOR
It’s packed, too packed (and they’re too famous) to take pictures, but they all signed quickly at least for the people around the very small barricades. At least when I went, it was just one barricade leading out onto the street, perpendicular to the theatre/street, instead of several along the side of the theatre. Maybe this is to minimize celebrity interaction with plebs, but it definitely minimizes your ability to get autographs. They go very fast and it’s all very loud so there’s no real chance to say anything other than thank you. People are super pushy but that’s not show-specific, unfortunately!
Jerusalem with Mark Rylance: Biggest of Star Turns in Pertinent AF Play
It’s Theatre Thursday! We haven’t done one of these in ages, oops! I saw this months ago but I forgot! Today’s show is Jerusalem, playing at London’s Apollo Theatre until August 7.
Earlier this year (whatever year this is), husbo said to me ‘oh hey, you saw Jerusalem on Broadway with Mark Rylance, right? Was it good? What was it about?’ and I replied ‘uh…I know for sure it was NOT about actual Jerusalem?’ I know I saw it because I had a stage door picture with Mackenzie Crook, who I only really appreciated back then because he was a Pirate ghost, but I couldn’t remember anything else. That we’re talking about a play I saw more than 10 years ago had nothing to do with my complete lack of memory about what the show was about; I just didn’t appreciate it back then (Schmidt voice: YOUTHS.), although of course I appreciated how incredible Rylance was. Now that I’m old? wise?…no, BRITISH and living in England, I get what all the fuss is about. Jerusalem is engaging and provocative, and Rylance is only getting better with age.
So what IS it about? I remembered enough to tell myself I shouldn’t be worried about Jew-hatred-fueled protests outside the theatre (my expectations for a certain other show coming in the fall is another story), since the Jerusalem of the title is more about William Blake’s fabled glory of a green and promised land, that being the old mythologized England past. We meet a man named ‘Rooster’ Johnny Byron (Rooster is his nickname but that’s the order he always gives his name in, Arifa) who is essentially a squatter living in an RV in the woods (IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER) and about to be evicted because well he’s not paying for those woods and they want him out so the yuppies in the new builds have a clean view. Rooster would be my absolute nightmare of a neighbor, literally the worst imaginable save for the teenagers partying with him all night, teens are worse (YOUTHS!). See they have parties in these woods, which fine you do you, but if I can hear your music at 2am I will curse your existence and wish for your name to be stricken from the book of life. I’m pretty sure I’m aligning myself with the gentrifying villains in the play but we’re all about honesty here hey.
Despite expectations, Rylance makes Rooster JB a sympathetic character, right from the start, (how much do I adore Rylance’s signature cute little whisper boy voice that he sometimes does, you know what I mean, it’s so good, let me count the ways). Here’s this middle-aged-if -we’re-being-generous man, all puffed-chest bravado and lack of showers, partying with teenagers and giving them whatever drugs they want. That last part is bad, yes, but we learn that he’s really just giving these kids a safe place to be that they aren’t finding elsewhere, not even (or in some cases, especially not even) at home. So even though it’s cringey and illegal it’s also nice and thoughtful! Is he a good witch or a bad witch? Audiences can surely interpret either way, but my view was very much ‘good witch except everything is coming across wrong’.
We see Rooster over the course of a day, St. George’s Day, where there’s a local festival. As we meet the local gang that hangs around him – we can’t really call them friends – it feels like real time, not just because it’s 3 hours long. The time flies by, like you’re at the party yourself, or if you’re me like you’re watching other people at the party you would never want to be at and that’s how you want it. It’s REALLY funny at times, especially in the first act, but as the drama builds, it gets legit harrowing too. You fear for RJB even as you make Chrissy-Tiegen-Golden-Globes-yikes-face at some of his choices.
As the story intensifies, the aura of the mythology and sense of old magic shows itself as an important part of the story. One I can’t explain or understand, really, except in that vague theatrical sense that makes you feel all you need to know, the way you know a play is achieving what it wanted. Rylance holds all the various aspects – the legends and lore, the sad sack bad father, the man trying to protect some poor kids, the insanely bad decisions – together in that compelling and heartfelt way of his. He’s a real Snape, where arguments about his true character run the gamut and people can disagree reasonably. I didn’t actually read the books.
Seeing it now that I can understand the problems with modern England and how it’s falling apart and how my electric bills are honestly criminal adds so much depth to the show. Before I thought it was a great look at class conflicts that seemed very universal, that could be picked up and set in any number of locales. And that’s still true, but the Englishness of it all makes it particularly sharp. That sense of mythology about what the country once was like is so layered, because you could just roll your eyes and say ‘it wasn’t ACTUALLY like that’ (I won’t say her name again), or you could realize the fact that no, the ‘good old days’ never really were how they’re remembered, is exactly the point. It says so much about humanity – do we ever really change, or grow, or improve our society by e.g. evicting the squatter in the woods giving drugs to kids? What if he’s the only one trying? Or something like that. Oh also ogres, real or not? What a great question for a play to leave you thinking about.
INFORMATION
Jerusalem is 3 hours, 2 acts. One regular 15-20 minute interval and then a 5 minute ‘pause’.
Best seat in the house is G1 in the stalls because it’s RIGHT on the aisle RIGHT next to the stairs leading up to the too-small women’s bathroom, yesss. Perfect for that second interval that isn’t truly an interval. (I overheard a man asking an usher, ‘hey, babes, why is this second interval just a baby baby pause, why not give us 10 minutes instead of 5 so we could all piss ourselves?’ and the usher was like ‘oh we tried having two regular intervals but it was just way too long, people were rioting’ and like, seriously, dears, 5 extra minutes is not gonna be a drop in this 3 hours bucket, and the people are rioting more about not having pissin time.
The only bad thing about sitting so close/in the stalls is that it is a verrrrrry smoky show. I had terrible contact lens headaches from my eyes breathing in all their smoke and was wrecked for a while after. I am going to renew my campaign for theatres to behave like the rest of polite society and stop allowing smoking, it makes no sense and is completely unnecessary. If you can’t show me you’re cool in another way then you aren’t cool! or whatever you’re going for.
