“Les Blancs” at the National Theatre: Am I Supposed to Feel This Horrible?by Randi / April 18, 2016
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!
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Tree at the Young Vic: A Maddening Take on Theatre
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Tree, at the Young Vic until August 24.
In a post-theatre conversation this week, we established that the number of professional stage productions I’ve seen is in the thousands. I can say with all the certainty of someone who is pretty tired and should have taken her contacts out 5 hours ago and has a hard time remembering many of the 1000s of shows (as one would) that I have never been more frustrated by any show than I was with Tree, the creation of (as it says in all the program and marketing material, it was ‘created by’ them, not written by) Idris Elba (yes that one) and Kwame Kwei-Armah, the latter of whom also directed. It’s maddening beyond belief, because there’s so much potential in the story – if you can find the story underneath the noise. Tree shows glimpses of deep, provocative drama, but the creators obscure those little captivating buds with tons (and tons) (and tons) of bells and whistles that are beyond unnecessary, to the point where the entire experience is extraneous.
The most well-known of said bells and/or whistles is the immersive nature of the show. As we saw with the recent productions of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Bridge Theatre and, in smaller part, with Barber Shop Chronicles at the Roundhouse (at least to start the show), immersive style theatre is this summer’s trend. I’m all for immersion if it works. It works like a dream at Midsummer (I didn’t mean to make that so corny but alas) because the story remains the focal point. Sure the crowd is ushered hither and thither but never in a way that distracts from the actors or the words. This is a lesson in restraint that Tree did not learn. I don’t think Tree even knows the word restraint. The immersion exists here simply for its own sake, simply to make audiences feel like it’s all about them – and it is.
Beginning with most of the crowd in the middle of the stage dancing with the cast to super loud (like too loud) club music (literally my nightmare), the show is ostensibly about a young Londoner who goes to South Africa for the first time to confront his family’s history and learn about the strife that led to his existence and is in his blood. Now that story could be great, and like I said there are moments of almost-greatness. But instead of letting those moments breathe and grow, the play continues to rely on tricks like these dance parties to convince the audience that this was fun. And most of the audience did have fun, because of course they did if it’s a huge dance party. Londoners love clubbing!
The first half hour drags, with little happening to propel a story but LOTS happening to distract you from it – more super loud dance breaks apropos of nothing, staff repeatedly handing out placards to hold up, staff moving you around to set up another effect, staff making you hold sticks (staff have never worked harder in a theatre; they did not stop for a second, which was distracting). There was an inane release of either glitter or dirt – I honestly couldn’t tell the difference, quite the metaphor – over most of the crowd, and lots of Alfred moving through the crowd unnecessarily. (This last one seems just to give everyone the rush of a famous actor walking right by you, because that’s what everyone wants – to feel like they’re a part of whatever is happening, regardless of whether it makes sense. Everyone wanting to be a part of things is already the downfall of theatre, with the rampant videos and snapchatting during it, but more on that at the end.) There was a character we met for less than a minute who performed handstand pushups for no reason other than to show off and have the crowd cheer. There were loud gunshots. There was a character introduction via hip hop performance. And sure she’s a good performer, but WHY? Every inch of this production had me asking why. Nothing was in service of the story, so everything felt exasperating.
As Alfred’s character Kaelo delves deeper into his family’s past, there is a good ten minute chunk that felt like a completely different, compelling play: when modern day demonstrations gave way to a memory play of the protests in 1985, when Kaelo’s parents got together. There were fewer distractions here, fewer dance parties, and it worked. Those ten minutes or so worked. I wish I could see the rest of that play.
But I couldn’t because it was then time for another dance partayyyyyyyy! Wooooooooot!
Without any real commitment to telling this story, the overly dramatic direction – so much melodramatic music, so much slow motion – felt unearned, since any drama took a backseat to the audience’s constant outward enjoyment. There’s a good story (potentially a great story) under all that noise somewhere, and that’s what makes it so infuriating. The issues brought up could be challenging in a novel way, but instead of developing them, they’re tossed in the air like beach balls that you throw out into a crowd, one crowd-loving trick I was shocked that they didn’t use. I couldn’t even watch the climax because the staff was having us set up yet another effect. All of the bells and whistles quickly grew wearisome, and it’s a shame that they took over to become the experience. I have never seen such reliance on spectacle at the expense of storytelling when there is such a good story desperately trying to be heard.
INFORMATION
Tree is at the Young Vic until August 24. You can get discounted tickets to some performances on the TodayTix app.
Beware – or enjoy, I guess, if you’re a monster – that they allow photography and filming of the entire show. People were filming the entire show right in the very front row, standing next to ushers, throughout the entire theatre. People were taking FLASH photography during big moments! People were taking live video and putting it on snapchat or whatever they do! The ENTIRE TIME. And it was fine with the staff, so if you are not a fan of that kind of thing, take a valium, and if you are, wtf is wrong with you.
“The Autumn of My Springtime” at Tbilisi’s Marionette Theatre
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we’re talking about “The Autumn of My Springtime”, at Tbilisi, Georgia’s famed Marionette Theatre.
Well, this is a first! Puppets scare me so I haven’t really sought out puppet shows – or as the fancy people call the fancier kind, ‘marionette theatre’. But a visit to the Rezo Gabriadze Theatre in Tbilisi, Georgia (not that Georgia) (unless you thought of the former-Soviet country (then you’d be right)) is one of the must-dos when visiting that city. I don’t know about you, but when I think marionette show, I think of John Cusack creepy AF in “Being John Malkovich”, a performance that still gives me nightmares because he made Malkovich’s entire life about creepy puppets?? Malko was in the og sunken place! So sad. Or I think of the ‘I got no strings to hold me down’ bit from Pinocchio and that’s equally terrifying so yeah, I’d usually say nah thanks to marionettes with their creepy faces and their creepy small but emotive hands. But now I will first think of Rezo Gabriadze’s surprisingly poignant show “The Autumn of My Springtime” and how wonderful it is. I’m not rushing out to see more scary puppets, but I fully insist that all Tbilisi visitors do.
The Gabriadze theatre performs their marionette shows in repertory, with current offerings including 4 well received plays written and directed by Rezo himself. Everyone (niche theatre reviewers) had been talking about one play in particular called “Stalingrad” which you can imagine is important in these parts so we were initially disappointed that a showing of that play didn’t line up with our free night in Tbilisi. But now I’m so glad that that show wasn’t on because the one we saw was fantastic. “The Autumn of My Springtime”, performed in Georgian with English supertitles, tells the story of an old Soviet couple, Valram and Domna, and their…pet? friend? confidante? bird named Boris. When the show begins with Boris the orange bird saying “Two things amaze me, morality and the stars”, you know shit’s gonna be interesting.
The show begins with old man Valram, a very old man indeed, talking to his bird-friend Boris about how tired his poor heart is. The puppeteers, five adults dressed in black, soon vanish into the background and you focus only on the intricate, perfectly tuned movements of the ancient doll. Anyone who has seen “Avenue Q” knows how easy it is to go from “How am I going to focus on the puppets and not stare at the human actors the entire time?” to “Omg I forgot these were puppets”. Valram’s hands lifting to gesture despite it taking all his energy was so realistic and moving that when he soon died (like five minutes in, so not a spoiler) (actually we’re going to be giving all the spoilers but odds are you aren’t seeing this so whatevs), it was quite sad.
So Boris takes it upon himself to look after Domna, the ancient wife of Valram, now that her husband is gone and she needs to pay the bills. Boris is often referred to endearingly (or maybe grammatically; it might just be a sentence structure thing but that’s less adorable) as Boria, and little Boria is all that Domna has now (though the relationship is still unclear) (as it is a bird). Domna’s mannerisms were like Valram’s, that precise articulation that makes you forget that they’re puppets. The work was so impressive. Boris the Bird’s puppeteer had a much less precise job, since the little orange shock of feathers really just had to keep fluttering the whole time, but he was onstage for most of the show and I assume that gets exhausting.
Boria sells all of Domna’s belongings to a moneylender friend to get her going, and I’m prettayyyyy sure the moneylender friend’s name was – I shit you not – SHALOM. At first I thought the dude riding the bicycle maniacally and singing about his life and money and biking was just repeatedly shouting Shalom so the audience knew he was a jew but I realized/husband told me that he was just shouting his name over and over, because that’s less weird, and that his name happened to be Shalom. Of course it was. And of course the moneylender was Jewish. Oh mild racism.
After the super random moneylender-on-a-giant-bicycle scene where I thought hmm this is kind of nutty, it went super off the rails nutty, to places I never could have imagined, yet remained, somehow, grounded in relatable humanity. The next scene featured little Boria going to the bank and talking to his friend…the statue on the door of the bank. The statue was named Dionidas, and he was in love with a girl who danced around nearby. Like a human girl, I think. He referred to her as his flora, his fauna, and Boris saw an opportunity in his friend’s love. Boris helps Dionidas the talking statue and the human lady reconcile, so the statue is supes happy and opens the doors (his torso?) and lets his birdfriend take some money from the bank. No big deal, easy as pie. The harder part is for Boria to find a way to give the money to Domna without her knowing that he robbed a bank. (Does it count as robbing if the guarding statue lets you take the money?) So he repeatedly just ‘happens’ to find oh a 25 ruble note here, a 25 ruble note there, for Domna’s benefit. When he tells her how he found each one, he begins by saying “Oh I laughed so hard, you wouldn’t believe how hard I laughed – I found this 25 ruble note in a tree/in a bucket/falling from an airplane/pinned to an accordionist’s face” (these are all real examples). Finally Domna is like “Stop lying to me ya damn bird! I know you didn’t just find this money!” but she does get all her possessions back from Shylock so she kind of doesn’t care?
There’s no time for figuring out Domna’s position on the matter though, because Boris is ready to parrrrtayyyyy. The bird (remember, this is a bird) goes to what looks like a British Christmas party with lots of drunk worker-looking men and lots of drunk women dressed like secretaries in a place that looks like a bowling alley. They forgo puppets for this scene and have mostly giant cardboard people bopping up and down. There’s a big toast Boris and the men give and this is literally what it was: “God bless Georgian heavy industry and its women with light morals!” Then Boris may have raped a woman but it was all very unclear considering that he is a bird and the woman was a gigantic cardboard cutout and before you can say ‘wait what the hell’ the cardboard cutouts of all the women lift up their skirts to show their underwear and I was like whaaaat isssss happpppening. This was by far the most random scene I’ve seen in pretty much anything ever. Also it was unnecessary; I don’t get why it was in this show, but I guess that toast was pretty good.
But things aren’t all fun and games for little Boria, because the cops may be on to him. He did rob a bank, remember? The cops – and one giant officer on a giant horse – barge into Domna’s house since she is his main known associate looking for the little ‘sky tramp’ as they amazingly call Boris. But Domna’s like ‘I haven’t seen him in a while but also I’m not his master or anything he is a wild bird who just happens to talk and do human stuff like rob banks and drink alcohol’ and the cops are like ‘well if you see him tell him he’s in big trouble mister because he robbed a bank and also he flew into a movie theatre and tried to kiss the projection of Vivian Leigh and ended up poking holes in the screen (this is a real thing they said) and also he is causing all kinds of problems and ruckus and the people are outraged because they hate sky tramps and we need to arrest him’ and despite Boris being the only friend she has in the world, Domna doesn’t really seem too broken up about it, but I guess that’s that Soviet external show of strength that babushkas pride themselves on.
Meanwhile, Boris is out flying by the window of a woman named Ninel, yes a human woman whom he is in love with. And she’s in love with him. We learn from their conversation that they fell in love in middle school (???) when she was trying to learn and he was flapping outside the window distracting her and now they can’t be together and they bemoan the fact by talking shit about Charles Darwin. I’m not kidding. Boria yells “Damn you Charles Darwin and your ape ancestors!” and Ninel cries “What did Charles Darwin ever know about love” and we were kicking each other so hard.
But unfortunately, the cops find Boris and trap him in a bucket (“anything but the bucket!” Boris screams) and he goes to jail, the awful kind where he has to wear black and white striped clothes on his tiny bird body and it’s kind of hilarious. Domna makes the arduous climb to visit him and despite her stern demeanor she shows how much she cares in their conversation about how he’s holding up. And in this exchange comes my favorite line in the whole thing that made me laugh so hard in a quiet theatre where no one else thought this was a particularly funny line but I was there CACKLING. Domna inquires about the conditions and, wanting to protect his health from the outside chill, she tells Boris: “Ask the other prisoners if you can change beds, farther from the window – tell them that you’re sick, say you’re a bird…” SAY YOU’RE A BIRD! HAHAHAHAH I was struggling not to scream-laugh. Like I’m p sure they’d know he was a bird from the start but I loveeee using that as an excuse.
Domna’s little peasant life is rocked quite a bit from the scandal, and she tries to avoid the prying eyes and unwelcome comments from nosy neighbors. But she can’t get away from one such neighbor, a very bad man who corners her and comments on Boris: “If he had raped someone, say a sparrow, or a pigeon, or a nightingale, I would have defended him, saying it was a crime of passion. But stealing money from the communal funds is unforgivable.” Man aliiive this is some commie bullshit! It reminded me of a North Korean movie I once saw that repeated lines like “all praise our great leader for allowing this” and “we are all important parts of the machine that makes our great country turn” or whatever crap like that from dictatorships. Yeesh.
Anyway, the day of Boris’s trial arrives, and since he’s hundo p guilty the big decision is whether Domna should be punished as an accomplice. Boria is adamant that his friend is innocent, even though she benefited from his crime, because she didn’t know and she’s just a poor old lady who will die soon anyway. The prosecutor is really mean and scary but luckily the judge – a GIGANTIC cardboard cutout of an old man in a double-breasted cardigan, because that’s what judges wear while sitting on the bench in any country – lets Domna go. Boris is sentenced to a life spent in a window display in a hunter’s shop, which is RULL disturbing but I guess better than the gulag? Boris asks for permission to give a speech before beginning his sentence and the judge allows it, and the speech he wanted to give was just to scream his lungs out at the mean prosecutor and it was SPELL-BINDING. The best part by far was when Boris A BIRD yells at him “I’LL SHIT ON YOUR FATHER’S GRAVE 23 TIMES YOU CROSS-EYED SCUM!” true story!
Okay I know I’ve shared all absolutely ridiculous or hilarious bits of this play and you’re probably thinking ‘um didn’t you say that this was moving and poignant” and it really was despite well everything I’ve been talking about. Through all the jokes and things I found to be funny even if they weren’t jokes, they were telling the story of a woman who had no hope in the world except this friend, who risked and gave up everything to help her survive. And to top that all off, he wasn’t human, yet he was the only one to show some humanity. And then he got kind of out of control and broke tons of laws but isn’t that the most human part of all? The ending packed a punch, with Boria in his shop window, passing his time, when the officer comes to visit and tells him to go mourn for Domna because no one else is. Yes, Domna has died, and Boris needs to pay his respects at her grave, which is next to Valram’s, where we began. Boris, however, is shot when he approaches – whether randomly, or by the hunter whose shop he sits in, or by the cops who may have set him up, it’s unclear (I’m going with the cops though) – and he struggles with all his might to make it atop his friends’ graves before his body gives out. It’s pretty dire, heartbreaking, as he makes it to his resting place with the people he cared about most. Boris says some deep stuff about humanity in his final moments as well as throughout the show, and despite being a bird, he nails the injustice and the sadness and the need for someone to care about you. And it’s quite lovely. AND he gives us incredible quotes that we’ve been shouting all week like SAY YOU’RE A BIRD! and “I’LL SHIT ON YOUR FATHER’S GRAVE 23 TIMES YOU CROSS-EYED SCUM!” Anyway, go see puppet shows if you are ever in Tbilisi. Amazing work, Rezo.
AUDIENCE
All Russian tourists who were pretty okay, although we prepped for it to be the worst audience ever since it was a tourist thing so anything better than that was a nice surprise.
THEATRE
The theatre is a semi-small single room upstairs from the nice wooden lobby. There are only two bathroom stalls but that wasn’t a problem for me because I had THE BEST SEAT and you need to get it if you go – B1. The second row, but the first seat on that aisle for some reason sticks much further out that all the other rows so I was closest to the door! Heyoooo! They also had this amazing No Cell Phone symbol in the corner of the ceiling, which I believe every single theatre should have.
Lobby
best seat ever
best sign ever
