Vegan Guide to Michelin Restaurants: Lyle's, London UKby Randi / August 1, 2016
I have not allowed myself to have such high hopes for an original London production in a long ass time. Why did I make the exception for “Groundhog Day”, the new musical based on the iconic Bill Murray film? Because it a) stars Andy Karl, one of my faves from Broadway, and b) was written by Tim Minchin, who wrote the last London musical that met or exceeded my expectations, “Matilda”. It’s also at the Old Vic, which is renowned in its renown. While “Groundhog Day” didn’t bowl me over, it was a solidly good show and a fun time. Also, it’s really nice to see something different and original (though not “original” if you catch my drift) on the West End. (Does Old Vic count as West End? I still don’t understand the demarcations of what’s London’s Broadway/off Broadway. I mean I traveled west for it.)
“Groundhog Day” tells the really tragic, depressing, horrifying tale (but comedy) about Phil Connors, a suave, egotistical (in the show) Pennsylvania weatherman (yebop!) covering that beloved Pennsylvania traditional holiday, Groundhog Day. But instead of getting to leave the tiny village of Punxsutawney, PA after the little beaver-squirrel looking animal sees his shadow (or not) and predicts an early spring (or 6 more weeks of winter), Phil instead wakes up every. single. day. in the same place, in the same rented room in Punxsutawney, and it’s still Groundhog Day. He is doomed to live the same exact day over and over, no matter what he does. It’s pretty frightening and anxiety-ridden and can you even imagine. If you don’t know the story of “Groundhog Day”, you really should go watch the movie, because it is a fantastic movie. Just consider how original and provocative and wrenching that storyline is, and then try to tell me that it’s just some Bill Murray comedy and not one of the best screenplay ideas like ever. Then consider how ‘experts’ online (all of us, really) with lots of time on their hands and math in their brains figured out that, for Phil to have learned all the skills he learned (like become an incredible pianist), read all the books he read, memorize all the information he learned, &c, he would have been stuck in the loop for more than 100 years. A HUNDRED GODDAMN YEARS, waking up in Punxsutawney and knowing everything that was going to happen. You would die. Phil, as you know, tries to kill himself a whole bunch of times (and ways) but it doesn’t stick. Nothing sticks. He keeps waking up as if nothing happened. God that is absolutely hell. This movie is about hell.
REAL TALK PSA: When the actual real talk about Groundhog Day (the holiday) and all the accompanying traditions began, the audience laughed. Not at jokes, just at the exposition of establishing the setting: that we’re in Punxsutawney (do you realize how hard it is not to keep typing Pennsatucky?), that old men dressed in period costumes wait to see if a groundhog sees its shadow, that the area where this all goes down is called ‘Gobbler’s Knob’, these kinds of things that are ACTUAL FACTS. The audience cackled at these. Then we realized, holy shit, British people do not have ANY CLUE that this is all 100% accurate. Holy shit. They think this holiday and all these WACKY ASS traditions were made up as part of a comedy movie to get some cheap laughs. Oh especially Gobbler’s Knob – these bros sitting near us could not get over Gobbler’s Knob, because knob is slang for their (raisin-sized I bet DO YOU EVEN LIFT BRO) manparts. I mean, why would people outside of the USA know of this tiny cultural phenomenon in this tiny ass village in Pennsylvania about an animal that is sort of a beaver sort of a squirrel seeing its shadow TO PREDICT THE WEATHER? If something like this happened in England (I’m sure there are equivalents) hell if I’d know anything about it, and I live here now.
This was all confirmed last weekend at a wedding. We were seated across from a very nice couple (letsbefriends!) who had seen the evening show the same day we saw the matinee of “Groundhog Day”! How f-ing random is that! I like to think that the grooms hacked the computers of all the guests to see who had calendar appointments that reflected similar tastes and/or plans and then made the seating charts accordingly. Okay no I don’t like to think that at all but seriously how did they know? So this couple consisted of one Aussie and one Brit, and in talking about the play, we asked them if they thought Groundhog Day was a made up thing. They were ASTOUNDED that it was real. OF COURSE WE THOUGHT IT WAS MADE UP, they positively shouted in disbelief. Are you KIDDING ME?? HOW CAN THAT BE REAL? It went on. They were flabbergasted and hysterical about it. The programmes for this show really by all means need to have a piece inside about how this is a real holiday. They have all other kinds of crap in those programmes that we have to PAY for AND have to spell with extra m’s and e’s so the very least they could do is educate their audiences about small-town USA.
Okay let’s maybe talk about the actual show a bit because you know what, it was good! It was not fantastic; I wanted it to be fantastic. I want everything to be fantastic. But you know what, not everything can be fantastic. I saw so much fantastic stuff in the past year so the bar was really insanely high for the world premiere of a new show. I strongly believe that, after the run in London, its eminent move to Broadway will be for a much tighter, more exciting, more edited show. That’s what pre-Broadway runs are for, to make necessary changes and see what audiences respond to and what needs work. I mean, unless they don’t change anything because audiences are jumping to their feet every show, so we’ll see. I hope they make some changes.
Actually, honestly, I don’t know what they could change on the small scale, because the only really disappointing thing was the score! The acting was wonderful (we’ll get to that), the book was really f-ing hilarious at times, the set was fine (more on that later), the NUMEROUS shout-outs to Penn State were great (so many ensemblists in PSU gear!!!), so really, the score is what needs work. And the score is usually the last thing to undergo huge overhaul, because, well, it’s the cornerstone of a musical. But the score is what was I would want worked on here out of the whole of the show. Well, the music was; the lyrics were clever, as you’d expect of Tim Minchin (who I must admit I know primarily because of the genius that is “Matilda”). Yet we know he also writes beautiful and provocative music. If I heard the music without knowing who wrote it, Minchin would be the very last composer I would guess. It felt very blah. I remember not one part of one song. And that is usually the test for whether a score will catch on in popularity – whether audience members walk out at the end of the show humming any bits to themselves. It shows something hit them and stuck. But guys, I didn’t remember how songs went immediately after the songs themselves ended. Like 2 seconds later, not the usual gauge of ‘after the show ends’. That’s crazy. It just felt uninspired and more like ‘generic musical’ than the challenging genre-bending stuff a creative show like this needs. Husband and the wedding couple, however, disagreed, and they all thought the score was fine. But I am right.
Even with a lackluster score, the show was highly enjoyable. Why? Andy Karl. Le sigh. Andy Karl is a fantastic stalwart on Broadway, having starred in “Legally Blonde” (not as Elle) like DECADES ago it feels like, and then went on to star in “Rocky” (which was panned but I liked!), “Unfinished Dickens”…that’s not it…um…OH “The Mystery of Edwin Drood”, “On the Twentieth Century” with Kristin Chenoweth which he was AMAZ in and wore the nicest suit my husband really liked it (he has good taste), and now finally is starring on the West End (I’m just gonna go for it). His impeccable comic delivery lifts every inch of this show higher and higher and turns some whatever lines into things that made us cackle hysterically. Not joking, hysterically. The book and lyrics really had some hilarious parts, and his timing made everything even better. In one of the early songs, before he realizes he’s actually stuck in a time loop and is still acting very cocky, he sings blah blah I’m leaving, “suck my balls I’m outta here”. Ridiculous in a musical! And hilarious when delivered, because he is magicked. Something I laughed at way too hard was in this flashback sort-of number, a duet with an old flame. As they reminisced about their fling, with Phil remembering one thing and then the woman repeating the line, one time she didn’t repeat so much as paraphrase and I couldn’t stop laughing: Phil sang something about their picnic “And we ate half a pound of pate” and the woman responded, “We ate way too much pate”. It was so stupid but something about their delivery made us laugh so hard. The funniest ensemble scene (because everything Andy did in the early stages of Act I was top notch hilarity) came as a montage of doctor visits. As Phil begins freaking out about his circumstances, he goes to see every doctor imaginable to see if there’s a medical explanation for his predicament. One is a Scientologist who tells him to read Dianetics; one is this great red-head-dreaded nerd; and the best ‘doctor’ tells him he feels like he’s reliving the same day over and over because, you guessed it, he’s allergic to gluten. It was so funny!
One thing I don’t understand is how this show cost so much. It’s rumored to have cost $16.5 million, which isn’t out of the ordinary for a Broadway musical nowadays, but I am pretty sure is unusual for the West End and the Old Vic. I expected that money to be put to good use, but I would not have guessed from the set that it was so expensive. The sets were good and very appropriate, but nothing stood out as being anything more than standard set design. The opening used projections (on the curtain), the best use of projections I’ve yet seen (because it was supposed to be television), but I doubt that was that expensive. Seriously, I don’t get it! Was Minchin expensive? I kinda hope Karl is making bank but I doubt it. Just flabbergasting. I also really am curious why previously attached producer Scott Rudin (god he has a hand in EVERYTHING) walked.
The coolest thing design-wise, however, maybe was worth all the money, although it was really just stage magic and not things that cost lots of money. When Phil starts spiraling into a depression, he tries to kill himself. I mean, he succeeds, but then he just immediately wakes up starting the day over. He kills himself again and again and again, tries every way imaginable, but keeps waking up. It’s really incredibly morbid. But, this production makes this whole section of the story absolutely mind-blowing because we see Phil die in some way, but then an instant later Andy Karl sits up in the bed at 6:00am. It first became noticeable that this was some incredible stage work going on when Phil takes the head from a guy wearing the groundhog costume, puts it on, and then steps in front of a truck. Honk, crash, 2 seconds pass and Andy Karl sits up in the bed on the opposite side of the stage. People started applauding. I kept trying to follow Andy himself to see what was happening but it was seriously magic. Lots of doubles and trapdoors, I’m sure, but also magic. This was definitely the most impressive part of the physical production. I really want to know how they were doing this!
The only parts I thought were actually bad can be easily fixed. Well, maybe not easily, but they are fixable. First of all, I’ve talked in the past about how important rousing Act II openers are, because you need to get the audience re-engaged after checking out for 20 minutes. It’s really important to quickly gain some of the momentum back that was lost at intermission. Well. I hate to say it but I think Groundhog Day’s Act II opener was the worst one yet. It was performed really well, and done nicely, but seriously, WHAT THE F. The girl playing Nancy, the ‘hot’ chick that Phil picks up early on, sings the song, alone, about how she grew up thinking about Barbies and beauty standards and is doomed to just be seen as the hot one all her life when there is more to her. Now, of course, that’s a sentiment I will not condemn, and she sings well, but the entire song I was staring wide-eyed asking WHY?? This is a character who had maybe 1 line in Act I and has maybe 1 more line in Act II, so why on EARTH does she have a whole song to herself? We barely knew anything by this point about Rita, the female lead (Carlyss Peer, who is good but in an underwritten role so doesn’t shine really until the end), but this tiny ensemble character begins Act II? DOES NOT COMPUTE. Give Andy another song ffs! Or Rita! Or, really, do what I thought was happening before Nancy moved on to Verse #2 – make it a song where every ensemble member sings one verse about who they are, the people Phil never gets to know about. That would be interesting at least, to give every single townsperson the chance to say one little thing that Phil will never learn no matter how long he interacts with them. But a whole song for Nancy? PUH-LEASE. It made me really mad.
Luckily, something else happened soon after that made me even madder!!! This wasn’t the fault of the show at all, but of the audience. Ned Ryerson, that great old classmate who recognizes Phil but also annoys Phil so much that sometimes Phil punches him, was just as good here as he is in the movie. However, later on, when Phil starts trying to be a decent person, Ned shows him pictures of his family, and Phil says, “Whoa, is that your wife? She’s hot.” And Ned replies, “She was.” And the lad-filled/ignorant audience CACKLED hysterically because they thought Ned was saying that his wife is no longer hot. But no you drunk pale-ass simpletons, he was saying that SHE’S DEAD. We were horrified for the cast and for humanity that so many audience members just assumed bro-humor. It was really atrocious. I think perhaps this can be fixed if they change the word ‘hot’ to ‘beautiful’ maybe? Or something softer? Because lads hear the word ‘hot’ and it primes their brain into lad-humor mode, so maybe that would work. I don’t know, it’s not the show’s fault but they do need to address that this sort of misunderstanding should not be allowed to keep happening. Oh humanity is so scary sometimes.
Thank goodness those are the only real standouts for badness. The show as a whole is a wonderful effort, really enjoyable and with the potential to be really great. It does need some editing to move to Broadway, and just to be the best it can be, so I hope its producers aren’t babies about making those changes. I would really like more development for Rita, who I understand can’t really be a fully fleshed out character until Phil starts trying to see others as full-fledged people, which happens towards the end of the show, but still, give her something better than the songs she has about how she is a woman. Let’s just say you can tell men wrote this.
Question: Why didn’t Phil ever try to leave the town before the storm hit, like as soon as he woke up? I wonder what would have happened. Is it just because he couldn’t get anyone to drive him? Because I’m sure he stole a car or two during his 130 years stuck in this loop. Also, how did he not lose his mind? I would have in 5. At the end, when he realizes SPOILER that it’s actually a new day, he stares at Rita so long in silence that was incredibly powerful and actually made me cry. But hot damn, if this were realistic, he would have been absolutely driven clinically insane by now.
Anyway, see it if you can because Andy Karl is amazing, it’s a new musical that is really quite good and well done, and then hopefully when we see it in a year or so it will be even better. Also Andy better be nominated for an Olivier.
AUDIENCE
Ugh. See above. At least no phones rang or lit up in my field of vision, but lad-duos were talking to each other THE ENTIRE TIME. Like these guys who don’t go to the theatre often were so excited to see the play of the movie they like, but they didn’t bother behaving properly. I almost punched heads.
STAGE DOOR
Andy came out really quickly after a matinee! I was so happy! He was so nice! I didn’t wait for anyone else but bumped into some chorus members on the street and they were very nice and appreciate when I said heyyyyyyy.
REAL TALK PSA: When the actual real talk about Groundhog Day (the holiday) and all the accompanying traditions began, the audience laughed. Not at jokes, just at the exposition of establishing the setting: that we’re in Punxsutawney (do you realize how hard it is not to keep typing Pennsatucky?), that old men dressed in period costumes wait to see if a groundhog sees its shadow, that the area where this all goes down is called ‘Gobbler’s Knob’, these kinds of things that are ACTUAL FACTS. The audience cackled at these. Then we realized, holy shit, British people do not have ANY CLUE that this is all 100% accurate. Holy shit. They think this holiday and all these WACKY ASS traditions were made up as part of a comedy movie to get some cheap laughs. Oh especially Gobbler’s Knob – these bros sitting near us could not get over Gobbler’s Knob, because knob is slang for their (raisin-sized I bet DO YOU EVEN LIFT BRO) manparts. I mean, why would people outside of the USA know of this tiny cultural phenomenon in this tiny ass village in Pennsylvania about an animal that is sort of a beaver sort of a squirrel seeing its shadow TO PREDICT THE WEATHER? If something like this happened in England (I’m sure there are equivalents) hell if I’d know anything about it, and I live here now.
This was all confirmed last weekend at a wedding. We were seated across from a very nice couple (letsbefriends!) who had seen the evening show the same day we saw the matinee of “Groundhog Day”! How f-ing random is that! I like to think that the grooms hacked the computers of all the guests to see who had calendar appointments that reflected similar tastes and/or plans and then made the seating charts accordingly. Okay no I don’t like to think that at all but seriously how did they know? So this couple consisted of one Aussie and one Brit, and in talking about the play, we asked them if they thought Groundhog Day was a made up thing. They were ASTOUNDED that it was real. OF COURSE WE THOUGHT IT WAS MADE UP, they positively shouted in disbelief. Are you KIDDING ME?? HOW CAN THAT BE REAL? It went on. They were flabbergasted and hysterical about it. The programmes for this show really by all means need to have a piece inside about how this is a real holiday. They have all other kinds of crap in those programmes that we have to PAY for AND have to spell with extra m’s and e’s so the very least they could do is educate their audiences about small-town USA.
Okay let’s maybe talk about the actual show a bit because you know what, it was good! It was not fantastic; I wanted it to be fantastic. I want everything to be fantastic. But you know what, not everything can be fantastic. I saw so much fantastic stuff in the past year so the bar was really insanely high for the world premiere of a new show. I strongly believe that, after the run in London, its eminent move to Broadway will be for a much tighter, more exciting, more edited show. That’s what pre-Broadway runs are for, to make necessary changes and see what audiences respond to and what needs work. I mean, unless they don’t change anything because audiences are jumping to their feet every show, so we’ll see. I hope they make some changes.
Actually, honestly, I don’t know what they could change on the small scale, because the only really disappointing thing was the score! The acting was wonderful (we’ll get to that), the book was really f-ing hilarious at times, the set was fine (more on that later), the NUMEROUS shout-outs to Penn State were great (so many ensemblists in PSU gear!!!), so really, the score is what needs work. And the score is usually the last thing to undergo huge overhaul, because, well, it’s the cornerstone of a musical. But the score is what was I would want worked on here out of the whole of the show. Well, the music was; the lyrics were clever, as you’d expect of Tim Minchin (who I must admit I know primarily because of the genius that is “Matilda”). Yet we know he also writes beautiful and provocative music. If I heard the music without knowing who wrote it, Minchin would be the very last composer I would guess. It felt very blah. I remember not one part of one song. And that is usually the test for whether a score will catch on in popularity – whether audience members walk out at the end of the show humming any bits to themselves. It shows something hit them and stuck. But guys, I didn’t remember how songs went immediately after the songs themselves ended. Like 2 seconds later, not the usual gauge of ‘after the show ends’. That’s crazy. It just felt uninspired and more like ‘generic musical’ than the challenging genre-bending stuff a creative show like this needs. Husband and the wedding couple, however, disagreed, and they all thought the score was fine. But I am right.
Even with a lackluster score, the show was highly enjoyable. Why? Andy Karl. Le sigh. Andy Karl is a fantastic stalwart on Broadway, having starred in “Legally Blonde” (not as Elle) like DECADES ago it feels like, and then went on to star in “Rocky” (which was panned but I liked!), “Unfinished Dickens”…that’s not it…um…OH “The Mystery of Edwin Drood”, “On the Twentieth Century” with Kristin Chenoweth which he was AMAZ in and wore the nicest suit my husband really liked it (he has good taste), and now finally is starring on the West End (I’m just gonna go for it). His impeccable comic delivery lifts every inch of this show higher and higher and turns some whatever lines into things that made us cackle hysterically. Not joking, hysterically. The book and lyrics really had some hilarious parts, and his timing made everything even better. In one of the early songs, before he realizes he’s actually stuck in a time loop and is still acting very cocky, he sings blah blah I’m leaving, “suck my balls I’m outta here”. Ridiculous in a musical! And hilarious when delivered, because he is magicked. Something I laughed at way too hard was in this flashback sort-of number, a duet with an old flame. As they reminisced about their fling, with Phil remembering one thing and then the woman repeating the line, one time she didn’t repeat so much as paraphrase and I couldn’t stop laughing: Phil sang something about their picnic “And we ate half a pound of pate” and the woman responded, “We ate way too much pate”. It was so stupid but something about their delivery made us laugh so hard. The funniest ensemble scene (because everything Andy did in the early stages of Act I was top notch hilarity) came as a montage of doctor visits. As Phil begins freaking out about his circumstances, he goes to see every doctor imaginable to see if there’s a medical explanation for his predicament. One is a Scientologist who tells him to read Dianetics; one is this great red-head-dreaded nerd; and the best ‘doctor’ tells him he feels like he’s reliving the same day over and over because, you guessed it, he’s allergic to gluten. It was so funny!
One thing I don’t understand is how this show cost so much. It’s rumored to have cost $16.5 million, which isn’t out of the ordinary for a Broadway musical nowadays, but I am pretty sure is unusual for the West End and the Old Vic. I expected that money to be put to good use, but I would not have guessed from the set that it was so expensive. The sets were good and very appropriate, but nothing stood out as being anything more than standard set design. The opening used projections (on the curtain), the best use of projections I’ve yet seen (because it was supposed to be television), but I doubt that was that expensive. Seriously, I don’t get it! Was Minchin expensive? I kinda hope Karl is making bank but I doubt it. Just flabbergasting. I also really am curious why previously attached producer Scott Rudin (god he has a hand in EVERYTHING) walked.
The coolest thing design-wise, however, maybe was worth all the money, although it was really just stage magic and not things that cost lots of money. When Phil starts spiraling into a depression, he tries to kill himself. I mean, he succeeds, but then he just immediately wakes up starting the day over. He kills himself again and again and again, tries every way imaginable, but keeps waking up. It’s really incredibly morbid. But, this production makes this whole section of the story absolutely mind-blowing because we see Phil die in some way, but then an instant later Andy Karl sits up in the bed at 6:00am. It first became noticeable that this was some incredible stage work going on when Phil takes the head from a guy wearing the groundhog costume, puts it on, and then steps in front of a truck. Honk, crash, 2 seconds pass and Andy Karl sits up in the bed on the opposite side of the stage. People started applauding. I kept trying to follow Andy himself to see what was happening but it was seriously magic. Lots of doubles and trapdoors, I’m sure, but also magic. This was definitely the most impressive part of the physical production. I really want to know how they were doing this!
The only parts I thought were actually bad can be easily fixed. Well, maybe not easily, but they are fixable. First of all, I’ve talked in the past about how important rousing Act II openers are, because you need to get the audience re-engaged after checking out for 20 minutes. It’s really important to quickly gain some of the momentum back that was lost at intermission. Well. I hate to say it but I think Groundhog Day’s Act II opener was the worst one yet. It was performed really well, and done nicely, but seriously, WHAT THE F. The girl playing Nancy, the ‘hot’ chick that Phil picks up early on, sings the song, alone, about how she grew up thinking about Barbies and beauty standards and is doomed to just be seen as the hot one all her life when there is more to her. Now, of course, that’s a sentiment I will not condemn, and she sings well, but the entire song I was staring wide-eyed asking WHY?? This is a character who had maybe 1 line in Act I and has maybe 1 more line in Act II, so why on EARTH does she have a whole song to herself? We barely knew anything by this point about Rita, the female lead (Carlyss Peer, who is good but in an underwritten role so doesn’t shine really until the end), but this tiny ensemble character begins Act II? DOES NOT COMPUTE. Give Andy another song ffs! Or Rita! Or, really, do what I thought was happening before Nancy moved on to Verse #2 – make it a song where every ensemble member sings one verse about who they are, the people Phil never gets to know about. That would be interesting at least, to give every single townsperson the chance to say one little thing that Phil will never learn no matter how long he interacts with them. But a whole song for Nancy? PUH-LEASE. It made me really mad.
Luckily, something else happened soon after that made me even madder!!! This wasn’t the fault of the show at all, but of the audience. Ned Ryerson, that great old classmate who recognizes Phil but also annoys Phil so much that sometimes Phil punches him, was just as good here as he is in the movie. However, later on, when Phil starts trying to be a decent person, Ned shows him pictures of his family, and Phil says, “Whoa, is that your wife? She’s hot.” And Ned replies, “She was.” And the lad-filled/ignorant audience CACKLED hysterically because they thought Ned was saying that his wife is no longer hot. But no you drunk pale-ass simpletons, he was saying that SHE’S DEAD. We were horrified for the cast and for humanity that so many audience members just assumed bro-humor. It was really atrocious. I think perhaps this can be fixed if they change the word ‘hot’ to ‘beautiful’ maybe? Or something softer? Because lads hear the word ‘hot’ and it primes their brain into lad-humor mode, so maybe that would work. I don’t know, it’s not the show’s fault but they do need to address that this sort of misunderstanding should not be allowed to keep happening. Oh humanity is so scary sometimes.
Thank goodness those are the only real standouts for badness. The show as a whole is a wonderful effort, really enjoyable and with the potential to be really great. It does need some editing to move to Broadway, and just to be the best it can be, so I hope its producers aren’t babies about making those changes. I would really like more development for Rita, who I understand can’t really be a fully fleshed out character until Phil starts trying to see others as full-fledged people, which happens towards the end of the show, but still, give her something better than the songs she has about how she is a woman. Let’s just say you can tell men wrote this.
Question: Why didn’t Phil ever try to leave the town before the storm hit, like as soon as he woke up? I wonder what would have happened. Is it just because he couldn’t get anyone to drive him? Because I’m sure he stole a car or two during his 130 years stuck in this loop. Also, how did he not lose his mind? I would have in 5. At the end, when he realizes SPOILER that it’s actually a new day, he stares at Rita so long in silence that was incredibly powerful and actually made me cry. But hot damn, if this were realistic, he would have been absolutely driven clinically insane by now.
Anyway, see it if you can because Andy Karl is amazing, it’s a new musical that is really quite good and well done, and then hopefully when we see it in a year or so it will be even better. Also Andy better be nominated for an Olivier.
AUDIENCE
Ugh. See above. At least no phones rang or lit up in my field of vision, but lad-duos were talking to each other THE ENTIRE TIME. Like these guys who don’t go to the theatre often were so excited to see the play of the movie they like, but they didn’t bother behaving properly. I almost punched heads.
STAGE DOOR
Andy came out really quickly after a matinee! I was so happy! He was so nice! I didn’t wait for anyone else but bumped into some chorus members on the street and they were very nice and appreciate when I said heyyyyyyy.
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LIES at the Almeida: Like ‘The Big Short’ But I’m Christian Bale
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about Ontroerend Goed’s interactive theatrical play LIES, which played London’s Almeida Theatre this summer.
Capitalism is the devil, right? Down with capitalism? And down with big too-big-to-fail banks and fake money scams that don’t make any sense but that our entire global economy depends on, right? Yes, right, unless you’re the one making that money. Then your clear moral vision gets a little cloudy and it gets harder to say ‘no stop all of these terrible things that are destroying the world!’ because you’re too busy making like Mona Lisa Saperstein and saying “MONEY, PLEEEEEASE”. At least this is the moral of the story at LIES, the interactive theatre experience that ran at London’s Almeida Theatre until last Saturday (sorriessss all that cash has destroyed my ability to care that y’all missed it).
You can’t really call it a play, but LIES (which is stylized with currency symbols as you can see in the photo but I can’t really do on my computer without taking a few minutes of effort, which I don’t want to do anymore because again moneycashdontcare) is a powerful, intense, truly immersive theatrical event like nothing has ever been immersive before. The latest work from Belgian theatre collective Ontroerend Goed (and no I don’t know how to pronounce that but I’m going to say it’s…phonetically?) to play in London, LIES attempts to show how volatile the financial world is, yes, but also how artificial it all is. Alexander Devriendt, the artistic director of the OG collective (it’s just easier), explains in his programme note that his journey into the financial world revealed endless ‘magic tricks’, an entire global system of functioning that relies on absolutely nothing of substance. It’s all pixels on screens, he said, all the money we use and trade and owe, and nothing refers to anything real like the pile of gold of the past or something. Devriendt cites a philosopher who once said that “if everybody would know what money is, a revolution would break out.”
But even after 2008, and movies like “The Big Short” explaining to us non-experts how forked up the system is, nothing happened, nothing changed. Why is that? LIES intends to show the audience how precarious the economy really is, and maybe to spark a revolution by getting us to understand how dangerous it is to leave the control and knowledge of the financial world to just a select few.
And it is indeed dangerous for only a few people to have control, as evidenced in the performance I attended by…my own actions. Man, did I get swept up in ‘earning’ money and out-pacing all my tablemates in my returns. Let’s get down to the details. One by one, the audience members were taken into the dark room and sent to one of 10 blackjack-type tables, each with one cast member sitting in the dealer’s position. I’ll refer to them as dealers even though we weren’t playing cards. Unless you are disabled and need to remain with your companion, you don’t sit with the people you came with. I was upset at first that I couldn’t sit with Husbo, but now I totally understand how important it is to be anonymous to the people you’re with, with the freedom to act as depraved as you can.
Our table of six players was a country with our name taken from the first person who was seated at our table. The cast named the tables/nations quickly and impressively, with names like ‘Josovo’ (hilarious!), ‘United Andrew’, and ‘Markocco’. Each table/nation had six players, and each of us was to act as banks, with the dealer acting as the national government/central bank. (Can you tell already that I don’t know how economy do?) So, yeah, when I say this theatre was interactive, I mean it was forking interactive. This would be an absolute nightmare for those of you who hate when you’re in a regular theatre and an actor makes eye contact with you. You are part of this.
The only lights came from bald fluorescent bulbs hanging over each table, so that when you were at your table it felt like you were being interrogated. They also played weird music that made my blood pressure rise, and every so often they would announce how much money the international community earned – and how much the temperature in the room had increased. Creepily, every announcement the Dealer made would be stated in unison with all the other tables’ dealers. When you heard their unison chanting over the din of the room, it was kind of horrifying.
To begin, our dealer man told us to take out all the cash we had on us. I didn’t have my wallet, but luckily we were told by front of house staff to have at least a note or a pound on us, so I had a 5 pound note from Husbo. The dealer told us we could choose to invest up to 20 pounds, so everyone else at my table gave in that maximum, except me, with my fiver. We put our investments in envelopes (so everyone gets back their real money at the end) and we got back chips representing our investments, but in millions. My little baby stack of 5 chips was so baby! The dealer gave each of us a dice and said that the first opportunity for growth was on a deal that paid out at a 1:1 rate, meaning if you risked $1 million and succeeded, you got another $1 million back. To succeed, you had to roll 3, 4, 5, or 6. So the odds were in your favor, and we rolled about 4-5 times. There were only a few losses when you had such good odds of a successful roll.
After a few successful rounds of investment, Dealerman said that the central bank was booming, and our nation could start selling, and we could start buying, government bonds. Okay, I saw at this point that it wasn’t going to be as simple as just ‘rolling dice and doubling your ante’. Dealerman offered me a $10 million loan from the central bank, and I said yes but I don’t think I had a choice (they have to keep the game going and I needed to be competitive). I bought a few bonds as we were told that the value of these would only increase, as long as our central bank stayed healthy.
Next, Dealerman told us that we were doing well as a nation and we could now make investments at a 2:5 return. Meaning, you risked 2 chips but if you rolled 4, 5, or 6, you would win 5 chips. So, higher stakes for losing, and fewer winning rolls, but better returns. I did pretty well rolling high numbers (take me to Vegas! No just kidding I hate it there!) and you could no longer tell that I started at such a deficit compared to my tablemates – but that’s also because the Dealer was giving everyone loans like whoa. To mark your loans, he’d give you 10 chips, and then in the central bank he would put a blank card and write $10 million and your name. These debts became crucial to our central bank’s solvency.
Soon, the cast members from the other tables/nations came around to sell their bonds on the international market, which our Dealer went off to do too. On a board in the middle of the dark room was a list with all our country names and our current credit rating, from A to C. We were at a B, which is fine, but there were already nations with B+ ratings and A-, and even one A. We needed to improve our rating, whatever the heck that means! We started betting even faster and buying lots of bonds. I think. It’s all a money-grabbing blur.
Then things got interesting. Dealerman said that one of our banks could have the opportunity to short deals in order to hedge its losses. This was represented by a Short card, and we had to bid on it to win it. This is where I thought, ‘oh bloody oh, me and my inability to retain financial information.’ See, I’ve seen ‘The Big Short’, several times actually, and every time I understand completely what’s happening, but the second it ends, I forget all the lessons I learned. So I didn’t immediately realize how baller this card would be and how I’d be the ultimate winner. Shorting is like betting against the success of a deal, so that if a bank invests in something but the deal fails, you win. So if one of my tablemates bet on the 2:5 deal but lost, I’d win what they risked if I shorted the deal. I mean I think that’s how it works; don’t quote me. One of my tablemates got it for $12 million. That would have wiped out nearly all my money, so I was too nervous and too unsure of what it would get me. But a few rounds later, the Dealer had one more, a final Short card, for sale. I was going to get this no matter what, and you know what, I did – I paid $21 million for it. And it was worth it. I immediately started doing what the other guy with the Short card at my table was doing – shorting his own investments. Meaning, even when he lost/didn’t roll 5 or 6, he didn’t lose anything. We both started doing that on the 5:15 deals and we were positively swimming in chips like drunk Londoners on Saturday nights. It was SO MUCH FUN. Sure, shorting your own investments probably is illegal, but we were allowed to do it here, so we did. And it would have felt mean to use it on our new friends, like “oh you suck at rolling I bet that you are going to fail again.” That’s not how you make friends.
In the next round, we had the opportunity to make deals on a 5:15 rate of return, rolling only 5 or 6 to win. That’s a huge risk, and it’s so hard to roll just 5 or 6, but it didn’t matter for me with the Short card! I literally could never lose. It got almost impossible for me to count all my returns at the end of every round. One time, I did mess up when counting the returns – I put some of them in my capital pile. It was all just too much to keep track of! But that was tax evasion, and so I had to play a round with red dice! How embarrassing.
Even more fun, Dealerman then said we had the opportunity for two mergers to happen in our nation. The animalistic drive of capitalism had already gotten to us, so my buddy with the other Short card and I merged our banks. We would be unstoppable, and, as the Dealer told us, we were now too big to fail, for the sake of our nation’s economic health. We played, I mean invested, more 5:15 rounds, bought and sold more bonds on the national and international markets, and soon I couldn’t even count my returns at the end of every round (to pay my share of taxes to the central bank) without the Dealer’s assistance.
And everything the Dealer paid out from central was getting more and more unwieldy – my return of $15 million each winning roll was decreasing rapidly in the number of chips it had versus cards: it started with 15 chips, but then it was 10 chips and 5 bond cards (a mix of ours and other nations’), then it was 5 chips and 10 cards – both of bonds and debt holdings from other players. We reached a point by the end where I was getting maybe 1-2 chips and the rest was different kinds of cards to keep track of, awkward ‘financial products’ that mixed cash, national bonds, international bonds, and debt cards from all my fellow players. And this is where the truth kind of started to kick in – what was this money we were making? So much of it these cards that kind of represented money out of thin air, with nothing of substance backing it up. Sure I could try to make some of the players pay their debt cards off with actual chips, but it would still count exactly the same for me. And if you tried to pay off your debt with the central bank, it would hurt it, and possibly affect our rating. One of my tablemates wanted to pay off some of his debt with the central bank once he made a lot of money, and Dealer said he could – but to think about it, because having that debt helped shore up our government’s economy and losing it could hurt our nation. Obviously he didn’t pay it off, and we all kind of realized how so much of the economy is based on literally nothing, all houses made of playing cards, which was a little on the nose here.
But red alert! Four of the 10 nations in the room were crashing! They were all in dire need of a bailout, but the international community was told we could only save one of them, leaving the other three to crash. It would be decided by a vote, so each table voted on the one whose products they had the most of – like if we bought more bonds of one of those countries than others, we were voting to save them, because otherwise their products would be worthless. So one of them was saved, and whatever we had from the other three was indeed worthless.
We started getting a little more nervous about what was going on with the international community – but we were also rolling in dough and winning each roll was addictive. I am hundo p a democratic socialist – I think rich people should pay a whole lot more in taxes for the good of everyone and I don’t think billionaires should exist – but in this environment, I was a RAGING CAPITALIST. It was insane, how focused everyone remained on making money and how we didn’t really stop to think about whether the weird financial products we were creating as time went on were really worth any actual money, or whether they should be. By the time they stopped us, I had earned $130 million! And I started with 5 pounds! Man alive for an instant I was like ‘I’M GONNA BE A TRADER! I MEAN A GAMBLER! I MEAN I DON’T KNOW WHAT I MEAN!’ But then I came back to my senses and was like, oh this is troubling, and man alive the world economy desperately needs to change.
Good game, Ontario Reverend Goatherd, good game.
INFORMATION
The show ran a straight two hours of intense concentration and really high blood pressure. They let you bring in water bottles but nothing that could spill (and nothing could be kept on the table). If you’re me, you needed ice cream afterwards, but others will need a hard drink – which explains why every banker is addicted to drugs.
But even after 2008, and movies like “The Big Short” explaining to us non-experts how forked up the system is, nothing happened, nothing changed. Why is that? LIES intends to show the audience how precarious the economy really is, and maybe to spark a revolution by getting us to understand how dangerous it is to leave the control and knowledge of the financial world to just a select few.
And it is indeed dangerous for only a few people to have control, as evidenced in the performance I attended by…my own actions. Man, did I get swept up in ‘earning’ money and out-pacing all my tablemates in my returns. Let’s get down to the details. One by one, the audience members were taken into the dark room and sent to one of 10 blackjack-type tables, each with one cast member sitting in the dealer’s position. I’ll refer to them as dealers even though we weren’t playing cards. Unless you are disabled and need to remain with your companion, you don’t sit with the people you came with. I was upset at first that I couldn’t sit with Husbo, but now I totally understand how important it is to be anonymous to the people you’re with, with the freedom to act as depraved as you can.
Our table of six players was a country with our name taken from the first person who was seated at our table. The cast named the tables/nations quickly and impressively, with names like ‘Josovo’ (hilarious!), ‘United Andrew’, and ‘Markocco’. Each table/nation had six players, and each of us was to act as banks, with the dealer acting as the national government/central bank. (Can you tell already that I don’t know how economy do?) So, yeah, when I say this theatre was interactive, I mean it was forking interactive. This would be an absolute nightmare for those of you who hate when you’re in a regular theatre and an actor makes eye contact with you. You are part of this.
The only lights came from bald fluorescent bulbs hanging over each table, so that when you were at your table it felt like you were being interrogated. They also played weird music that made my blood pressure rise, and every so often they would announce how much money the international community earned – and how much the temperature in the room had increased. Creepily, every announcement the Dealer made would be stated in unison with all the other tables’ dealers. When you heard their unison chanting over the din of the room, it was kind of horrifying.
To begin, our dealer man told us to take out all the cash we had on us. I didn’t have my wallet, but luckily we were told by front of house staff to have at least a note or a pound on us, so I had a 5 pound note from Husbo. The dealer told us we could choose to invest up to 20 pounds, so everyone else at my table gave in that maximum, except me, with my fiver. We put our investments in envelopes (so everyone gets back their real money at the end) and we got back chips representing our investments, but in millions. My little baby stack of 5 chips was so baby! The dealer gave each of us a dice and said that the first opportunity for growth was on a deal that paid out at a 1:1 rate, meaning if you risked $1 million and succeeded, you got another $1 million back. To succeed, you had to roll 3, 4, 5, or 6. So the odds were in your favor, and we rolled about 4-5 times. There were only a few losses when you had such good odds of a successful roll.
After a few successful rounds of investment, Dealerman said that the central bank was booming, and our nation could start selling, and we could start buying, government bonds. Okay, I saw at this point that it wasn’t going to be as simple as just ‘rolling dice and doubling your ante’. Dealerman offered me a $10 million loan from the central bank, and I said yes but I don’t think I had a choice (they have to keep the game going and I needed to be competitive). I bought a few bonds as we were told that the value of these would only increase, as long as our central bank stayed healthy.
Next, Dealerman told us that we were doing well as a nation and we could now make investments at a 2:5 return. Meaning, you risked 2 chips but if you rolled 4, 5, or 6, you would win 5 chips. So, higher stakes for losing, and fewer winning rolls, but better returns. I did pretty well rolling high numbers (take me to Vegas! No just kidding I hate it there!) and you could no longer tell that I started at such a deficit compared to my tablemates – but that’s also because the Dealer was giving everyone loans like whoa. To mark your loans, he’d give you 10 chips, and then in the central bank he would put a blank card and write $10 million and your name. These debts became crucial to our central bank’s solvency.
Soon, the cast members from the other tables/nations came around to sell their bonds on the international market, which our Dealer went off to do too. On a board in the middle of the dark room was a list with all our country names and our current credit rating, from A to C. We were at a B, which is fine, but there were already nations with B+ ratings and A-, and even one A. We needed to improve our rating, whatever the heck that means! We started betting even faster and buying lots of bonds. I think. It’s all a money-grabbing blur.
Then things got interesting. Dealerman said that one of our banks could have the opportunity to short deals in order to hedge its losses. This was represented by a Short card, and we had to bid on it to win it. This is where I thought, ‘oh bloody oh, me and my inability to retain financial information.’ See, I’ve seen ‘The Big Short’, several times actually, and every time I understand completely what’s happening, but the second it ends, I forget all the lessons I learned. So I didn’t immediately realize how baller this card would be and how I’d be the ultimate winner. Shorting is like betting against the success of a deal, so that if a bank invests in something but the deal fails, you win. So if one of my tablemates bet on the 2:5 deal but lost, I’d win what they risked if I shorted the deal. I mean I think that’s how it works; don’t quote me. One of my tablemates got it for $12 million. That would have wiped out nearly all my money, so I was too nervous and too unsure of what it would get me. But a few rounds later, the Dealer had one more, a final Short card, for sale. I was going to get this no matter what, and you know what, I did – I paid $21 million for it. And it was worth it. I immediately started doing what the other guy with the Short card at my table was doing – shorting his own investments. Meaning, even when he lost/didn’t roll 5 or 6, he didn’t lose anything. We both started doing that on the 5:15 deals and we were positively swimming in chips like drunk Londoners on Saturday nights. It was SO MUCH FUN. Sure, shorting your own investments probably is illegal, but we were allowed to do it here, so we did. And it would have felt mean to use it on our new friends, like “oh you suck at rolling I bet that you are going to fail again.” That’s not how you make friends.
In the next round, we had the opportunity to make deals on a 5:15 rate of return, rolling only 5 or 6 to win. That’s a huge risk, and it’s so hard to roll just 5 or 6, but it didn’t matter for me with the Short card! I literally could never lose. It got almost impossible for me to count all my returns at the end of every round. One time, I did mess up when counting the returns – I put some of them in my capital pile. It was all just too much to keep track of! But that was tax evasion, and so I had to play a round with red dice! How embarrassing.
Even more fun, Dealerman then said we had the opportunity for two mergers to happen in our nation. The animalistic drive of capitalism had already gotten to us, so my buddy with the other Short card and I merged our banks. We would be unstoppable, and, as the Dealer told us, we were now too big to fail, for the sake of our nation’s economic health. We played, I mean invested, more 5:15 rounds, bought and sold more bonds on the national and international markets, and soon I couldn’t even count my returns at the end of every round (to pay my share of taxes to the central bank) without the Dealer’s assistance.
And everything the Dealer paid out from central was getting more and more unwieldy – my return of $15 million each winning roll was decreasing rapidly in the number of chips it had versus cards: it started with 15 chips, but then it was 10 chips and 5 bond cards (a mix of ours and other nations’), then it was 5 chips and 10 cards – both of bonds and debt holdings from other players. We reached a point by the end where I was getting maybe 1-2 chips and the rest was different kinds of cards to keep track of, awkward ‘financial products’ that mixed cash, national bonds, international bonds, and debt cards from all my fellow players. And this is where the truth kind of started to kick in – what was this money we were making? So much of it these cards that kind of represented money out of thin air, with nothing of substance backing it up. Sure I could try to make some of the players pay their debt cards off with actual chips, but it would still count exactly the same for me. And if you tried to pay off your debt with the central bank, it would hurt it, and possibly affect our rating. One of my tablemates wanted to pay off some of his debt with the central bank once he made a lot of money, and Dealer said he could – but to think about it, because having that debt helped shore up our government’s economy and losing it could hurt our nation. Obviously he didn’t pay it off, and we all kind of realized how so much of the economy is based on literally nothing, all houses made of playing cards, which was a little on the nose here.
But red alert! Four of the 10 nations in the room were crashing! They were all in dire need of a bailout, but the international community was told we could only save one of them, leaving the other three to crash. It would be decided by a vote, so each table voted on the one whose products they had the most of – like if we bought more bonds of one of those countries than others, we were voting to save them, because otherwise their products would be worthless. So one of them was saved, and whatever we had from the other three was indeed worthless.
We started getting a little more nervous about what was going on with the international community – but we were also rolling in dough and winning each roll was addictive. I am hundo p a democratic socialist – I think rich people should pay a whole lot more in taxes for the good of everyone and I don’t think billionaires should exist – but in this environment, I was a RAGING CAPITALIST. It was insane, how focused everyone remained on making money and how we didn’t really stop to think about whether the weird financial products we were creating as time went on were really worth any actual money, or whether they should be. By the time they stopped us, I had earned $130 million! And I started with 5 pounds! Man alive for an instant I was like ‘I’M GONNA BE A TRADER! I MEAN A GAMBLER! I MEAN I DON’T KNOW WHAT I MEAN!’ But then I came back to my senses and was like, oh this is troubling, and man alive the world economy desperately needs to change.
Good game, Ontario Reverend Goatherd, good game.
INFORMATION
The show ran a straight two hours of intense concentration and really high blood pressure. They let you bring in water bottles but nothing that could spill (and nothing could be kept on the table). If you’re me, you needed ice cream afterwards, but others will need a hard drink – which explains why every banker is addicted to drugs.
Beckett’s Endgame at the Old Vic Successfully Captures the Yearning for the Sweet Release of Death
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Endgame by Samuel Beckett, playing a double bill with his short piece Rough for Theatre II, now at the Old Vic if you like torture.
To sort something straight off the bat: this is NOT about the last Avengers movie (which, amazingly enough, I still have not seen. I really do not care anymore about those superheroes. It’s too much). Endgame is a famous play by Samuel Beckett, the playwright of ‘theatre of the absurd’, famed for his dreary, bleak look at the human existence. He did not seem happy. People say his work is ‘tragi-comic’ but I did not get the comic part. He famously said that nothing is funnier than unhappiness…which after seeing this production, I promise you is false: I was very unhappy, and very much not amused. I have never been so close to being sure that a piece of theatre was pranking me as I was during this evening at the Old Vic, nearly shouting “oh THIS is the bad place” despite the beloved talent onstage (Daniel Radcliffe and Alan Cumming). I’ve also never seen so many people walk out of a show, unable to wait till an interval or the end, and I’ve seen some shit.
Let’s start with Rough for Theatre II, since it’s a little nothing of a show. This production serves a double bill with Beckett’s little one-act that’s about two like, afterlife accountants but not in the brilliant Good Place way, who show up when someone is about to commit suicide and they go through his life and see whether he should or not? At least I think that’s what it’s about. It was odd and vague and incredibly short. Daniel Radcliffe gets to do a lot of box jumps which is fun for him but not for me when watching because I was like I wanna do box jumps instead of watch this. I honestly have to give Beckett props for naming it what it is.
Endgame, the main course, is one of the most unreasonable pieces of theatre I’ve ever seen. Remember how Alex Borstein did that episode of Friends where she had a one-woman show about why men don’t like her and talked about getting her first period, and Chandler made everyone go see it as punishment? I didn’t know Sammy Beckett but I feel like he really hated theatergoers. He’s the playwright equivalent of Lewis Black’s joke about how airplane seats in economy were created by a guy with scoliosis who is really f-ing pissed. This piece is about an invalid (Alan) and his servant (Daniel) and Alan is mean to Daniel and Daniel has a limp but Alan can’t walk or stand at all and they just are like, waiting for death? It’s considered a sort of sequel to Waiting for Godot and I guess they just replaced Godot with Death. Alan’s parents live in trashcans at the foot of the stage and sometimes they pop up and say nonsense things that are weird and not funny and he replies in ways that are absurd because I guess this is Theatre of the Absurd but just because it has an official title doesn’t make it worthwhile.
Daniel is fine, but there’s only so much you can do performance-wise with the material you are given, especially when most of your requirements are carrying a ladder to and fro and climbing up and shimmying down, over and over and over in an act that serves no purpose except to delight people who find delight in incongruous slapstick, a cheap laugh ploy that, of course, works because people love cheap laughs that don’t have anything to do with anything. Alan Cumming is fine, though overly hammy much of the time. But I don’t know what we can ask of them when they are forced to do this absolute nonsense show. Why, why is this considered a great piece of theatre? The only thing I can think of is, it’s about people waiting for the sweet release of death and when you watch it, it’s such torture that the audience feels the yearning for death along with the characters. Is that it, that the show so successfully makes the audience feel what the characters feel so that they too anticipate sweet release from the torment of this show? Is that what he was going for, because if so, man, well done Sammy, what a gottamn masterpiece of pain you’ve created. It’s a f-ing triumph. If he didn’t want us to feel that death was preferable to watching this show for much longer, then I, along with everyone who left, missed something.
INFORMATION
Rough for Theatre II was just under a half hour, which means your interval bathroom break comes when you don’t need it, adding to the whole torture vibe of the evening. Endgame is then an hour and half, which is the exact amount of time it’s safe to watch this show for before one loses one’s mind.
The Old Vic renovation is fine – there’s still not enough room in the lobby (what a mess) but the bathrooms in the basement (where you go if you sit in the stalls, so get an aisle towards the back if you need) are better and bigger. Also, they are not defined by gender, just by whether they contain stalls or urinals, which is how every bathroom should be since it’s great for everyone (except men who need to go #2) (hey that’s what Beckett is with this show!).
STAGE DOOR
Like all Danny Rad shows, people were SPRINTING to the stage door in droves, so I skipped out on adding ‘trampled by horrible crowds’ to the night’s list of agonies. (Also what was I gonna say to them, yeesh.)
