Tony Toni Tone: It’s the Day of the Tony Awards!

​Lucas Hnath was just your ordinary boy, spending his days writing about what happened to his favorite characters from various fiction universes after the original work ended. He started with the many Star Trek series, as most writers of fan fiction do, daydreaming scenarios that stayed true to the established canon but existed wholly outside of it. Yet the boy quickly felt that this focus on modern works was stifling his creativity. He tried his hand at the other popular fandoms, from Harry Potter to Game of Thrones, before realizing that his abilities would best be exercised by going back in time. “Hmm,” he thought, twirling his pen that was also a clock, “I wonder if anyone has fanficked up some old plays before.” He looked through the standards, Shaw, O’Neill, Joyce, Miller, before landing on the one that he felt a natural connection with, the Norwegian ‘father of realism’ Henrik Ibsen. Lucas felt particularly drawn to his famous early feminist play “A Doll’s House”, in which a housewife casts aside the suffocating trappings of her anti-feminist 19th century society. “I wonder what happened next,” Lucas thought, and busily got to work. And that’s how writing fanfic became the coolest way to get a play on Broadway.  

​Okay, I’m just joking about all that, but the critically acclaimed new play “A Doll’s House, Part 2” really is straight up fanfic and I loooooveeee it for that. Like what if that amazing story where Jess and Dean heal each other’s Rory-inflicted wounds by getting together themselves that I found on the Gilmore Girls subreddit was made into its own TV show, that’s kind of what is happening here. But it’s so much better because it’s on Broadway, and I jest but Hnath (I am fully saying the H and it sounds like I’m sneezing I don’t know if that’s right) did a fine job imagining what has become of Nora, the classic dramatic protagonist who first told housewives they didn’t need to be housewives, and Torvald, the husband who inspired a century of names proving that some parents hate their children.
 
It’s a good thing Ibsen has been dead for 111 years (I looked it up) because fanfic can infringe on an author’s copyright. But instead of getting sued, Hnath is getting rightfully lauded for his creative, engaging new play. Even if Ibsen were alive, I think he would have liked it. It takes place 15 years after the original work ends, when Nora famously decides she can no longer stand conforming to the strict rules for her gender and being treated like a doll so she leaves her husband and three children with a slam of the door. I saw Part 2 last week with my brother, who did not know the original work, while I’ve seen the original performed a bunch of times. And as soon as brother got over the excitement of seeing Frances McDormand and Joel Coen sitting across the way from us (just kidding he didn’t), he was fine, because honestly what I explained about the original plot in the previous sentence is all you need to know going in. I mean I don’t actually remember much else anyway so as long as you know ‘old timey gender roles, fed up wife, left her husband and children at the end,’ you’re good.
 
After that powerful ending of the original, what would bring Nora back to her family? How long would it take before she returned? As Part 2 opens, we repeatedly get the answer to the latter question – “Fifteen years!” the maid Anne Marie (Jayne Houdyshell, HILARIOUS all caps necessary) repeatedly shouts! “Fifteen years,” Nora (Laurie Metcalf) repeatedly repeats. The answer to the former question takes a little more prodding, as first Nora wants Anne Marie to gush over how good she looks, in her super expensive-looking gown and her all not-being-dead state, which is a surprise as the family, and the town, it turns out, believed she died because what woman could take care of herself?! Metcalf, who gave one of the best theatrical performances I ever saw in “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” several years back, is completely different here, loud and confident but with a certain unnaturalness in her tone and behavior that makes you a little uncomfortable, suggesting that Nora is not as comfortable and contented as she wants everyone to think. The subtle uneasiness could easily be ignored by audience members who want to believe that everything worked out for Nora, and could easily be seized upon for those who want her to have suffered. But Nora is very pleased with how her life turned out, because she became an author of famous books for women – under a pen name of course, lest she be ruined – criticizing the sexism of society and condemning the preposterousness (preposterity? preposterity! change approved!) of marriage. Her books have made a huge splash, garnering rabid fans and intense opposition, as enemies of her/fans of traditional society want to unmask the unknown author and destroy her to set an example.
 
Trying to prevent such destruction is what brings Nora back to this house. She needs a divorce from Torvald – they never got divorced in the 15 years! FIFTEEN YEARS! Anne Marie, who raised Nora and then raised Nora’s kids instead of her own, is incensed that after all this time (FIFTEEN YEARS!) Nora is only returning for selfish reasons, Nora who never actually said goodbye to the loyal Anne Marie. Houdyshell, always good, manages to make the audience absolutely fall over themselves laughing in the first part of the show, which is just Anne Marie and Nora laying out the facts. It’s a good way to easy into the serious dialogue to come, the debate over right and wrong and decency and strength that becomes more muddled the more you say.  
 
So some man in an office somewhere found out a) that Nora is the author of these books and b) that Torvald never divorced her, and he is threatening to expose her and send her to jail. There are several important period-sensitive issues happening here: A woman could only divorce her husband if she proved, basically, that he was a POS, a cheat or some such. But a man could divorce his wife for any reason. So clearly it would be easier for all if Torvald went along and signed the paper and that was that. If he refused and Nora chose to do it herself, she would need to ruin Torvald’s reputation. And to ruin a man again who didn’t really do anything wrong, at least according to society and everything he knew, would be very unfair. As for why the reveal of Nora as the books’ author would be criminal – she had been acting as an unmarried woman, conducting business and signing contracts as only an unmarried woman could back then. If it turned out that she had signed contracts and entered into deals without the consent of her husband and without him taking the lead on the business dealings, it would be a crime. I knowww so wrong.
 
The plot doesn’t really matter – the play is about Nora reconciling her decision to save herself with how it affected the people in her life. But the legal issues she faces provide an effective template for how these discussions progress. Either way it goes, there are no winners, and the decisions made – which we don’t see; don’t think that this wraps up their story all tidily and dumb – will continue to break this family. And they will continue to question whether Nora was justified in leaving and living her own life. No matter which side you’re on, there’s no right answer to what she should have done because, as we witness through the three conversations, it’s too complicated when humans are involved.
 
Once you laugh enough with Anne Marie, the door opens again, and it’s Torvald, played by a somber, unsmiling Chris Cooper, whose entrance immediately changes the mood from a comedy to a drama. His solemnity contrasts with Nora’s crass, almost boorish new manner that gives her the freedom to now sit with her legs falling open, to lie about on the floor in her skirts just because she can. Nora explains her situation to Torvald as if it’s the simplest matter in the world with a clear and straightforward solution. But Chris reminds you of the gravity of the situation, even just physically with how heavy his carriage seems. First of all, Torvald’s like, you just straight up left me and our children, never sent a letter or anything, we thought you died and OH YEAH, we told everyone you did, and you ruined me, and now you want more from me? Then he gets to the heart of the matter, which is that regardless of whether he complies with her or not, they still lose and continue to destroy each other. If he refuses to divorce Nora, she will either destroy him publicly to get the divorce or she will go to jail and be ruined herself. If he refuses and she does choose to try for the divorce, then everyone in town will find out that Nora is actually not dead and that Torvald lied about her dying, and so he’d probably lose his job and be ruined. On the other hand, it’s kind of the same hand because if he does divorce her, there would be a public document proving that Nora is still alive, so everyone would again find out that Torvald lied about his wife dying and he would be shunned and probably lose his job and be ruined. No matter how badly we want to commend Nora for trying to live her best life, her actions harmed Torvald and continue to harm him after all this time. Whether he was a bad husband or not, the punishment still seems to outweigh the crime, and Chris’s performance makes you believe that the self-empowerment behind Nora’s choice does not excuse its ramifications.
 
The uneasiness this dilemma creates in the audience does not go away, because we don’t find out what Torvald decides to do. It would be hard to believe, however, that he decides to give Nora what she wants. If he’s ruined either way, there’s no way he would make it easier for the woman who devastated him. But it just seems so unfair all around. It’ll make you wonder whether Nora should have just stayed, but then you know she would have suffered her whole life in a claustrophobic role. And you feel bad for Torvald, especially since he wasn’t really a bad man.
 
The complicated nature of it all continues as Chris leaves and Condola Rashad, brilliant, enters. (BTW, the show is structured generally in three bits – Nora’s conversations with Anne Marie, Torvald, and then Emmy, her daughter. Chris Cooper generally gets the same amount of time as the others, yet he is considered and nominated as Leading Actor in a Play. Erm.) Rashad plays Emmy, one of Nora’s three children that she left behind, now all grown up. It is hard to get over how awesome it is that Rashad, a black woman, is playing the daughter of two white people. There’s no contextual reason, no scandal, just that Rashad is a fantastic actress who deserved to be cast and, even though the character of Emmy would be white in the play’s society, it frankly doesn’t matter who is playing her onstage. Like Thomas Jefferson around the corner. It’s a play, and the audience can deal with it, so more productions should stop using the excuse of historical accuracy or whatever for being so damn white. We’re suspending belief anyway that Laurie doesn’t have a sister named Roseanne; we’re fine doing more. Emmy is a smart young woman with no apparent emotional connection to her mother. She did abandon her as a very young child, after all, and Emmy barely remembers her. Since Nora was okay with leaving her and her two sons in the first place, she doesn’t seem to mind that Emmy treats her coolly. But she does mind that Emmy is the exact opposite of the type of woman Nora is trying to empower. Growing up with no semblance of traditional domestic stability, Emmy yearns to marry and fulfill her social duty as an obedient wife, with the house and the kids and the banker husband (actually, her betrothed even works at Torvald’s bank). Naturally, this horrifies Nora, who spends most of the play railing against marriage (sometimes to the applause of the audience, sometimes to nervous laughter, sometimes to shocked silence when she goes too far). But the poised and intelligent Emmy seems almost more empowered and self-assured than Nora, who feels the need to throw her empowerment in everyone’s face. Emmy knows she has the right to a choice, and that her legitimate preference for the traditional option is still a valid choice. Despite her desire to stay in the place that restrictive society wants her to stay in, Emmy exhibits more clarity and self-awareness than her mother, especially when she tells her “Don’t make my wants about your wants.”
 
Nora thought she’d have an easy time convincing Emmy to convince Torvald to give into her demands, but Emmy swiftly turns the tables and asks Nora to let Torvald be, having done enough to him already. And Emmy doesn’t want the inevitable ruin to affect her happiness, as the scandal surrounding a faked death would probably stop her wedding. Nora, who stormed in at the beginning with conviction about what she needed to accomplish in this visit, is left confused about what to do. She doesn’t want to ruin her daughter’s chance at happiness, despite her opposition to its form. And she likely realizes how Torvald has suffered enough because of her. It’s completely unclear whether she would do what it takes to let her family live happily – for her to let the bad man expose her true identity and probably ruin her – but you get the sense that she at least can’t now do what it takes to actively ruin them. I almost just wrote that it’s literally between a rock and a hard place. It is not but it is very much figuratively that.
 
Not much really happens in the play’s swift 90 minutes, but these discussions are fascinating. And even though it’s not a perfect show by far, I just love the concept, to take a classic work and think about what happened next. It leaves you haunted by the questions of what’s right and wrong and whether choosing oneself is borne of selfishness or self-love. The situation is entirely unwinnable and really unpleasant to contemplate. Luckily, it’s just fan fiction, so you can continue believing that everyone lived happy lives after Nora first slammed the door. But it’s not as interesting that way.
 
THEATRE INFO
No intermission means no super long bathroom lines, which is wonderful. It’s quite easy to get rush tickets to this show, but that might change after the Tony Awards since this is up for eight of them. And all four actors are nominated, which is amazing. 
 
Everyone came out of stage door (there are only four actors after all) and signed. Jayne and Condola moved off very quickly, probably thinking that everyone was waiting just for the bigger stars. But Condola came back when someone asked her to (not me I swear) and was super excited and friendly.
 
Walking towards the subway I saw Art from Orphan Black and screamed. The end. 

      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.

“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.