It Happened in Key West: Nothing but Potential for this Weird AF Romantic Comedyby Randi / August 30, 2018
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about “Home, I’m Darling”, which ended its run on September 5 at London’s Dorfman Theatre.
In the opening scene of the wonderful new play “Home, I’m Darling”, you’re quickly transported to the 1950s, watching a “terribly happy”, no, “appallingly happy!” husband and wife go through their morning routine: the full-skirted wife in her brightly colored period-perfect kitchen dotes on her husband and serves him his perfectly toasted toast, his perfectly made tea, before bidding him farewell as he gathers his hat and briefcase and sets off for the office. It’s all very first-half-of-‘Pleasantville’, until the wife slumps into her chair and pulls out a silver MacBook from a drawer. With that flawless introduction, we know we have this couple not in the ‘50s, but living today, among us, who are actively choosing to live like they are stuck in the past. Why they would do this and how happy they could really be are the first questions that spring to mind, of many, and this play does a marvelous job of answering them.
In the opening scene of the wonderful new play “Home, I’m Darling”, you’re quickly transported to the 1950s, watching a “terribly happy”, no, “appallingly happy!” husband and wife go through their morning routine: the full-skirted wife in her brightly colored period-perfect kitchen dotes on her husband and serves him his perfectly toasted toast, his perfectly made tea, before bidding him farewell as he gathers his hat and briefcase and sets off for the office. It’s all very first-half-of-‘Pleasantville’, until the wife slumps into her chair and pulls out a silver MacBook from a drawer. With that flawless introduction, we know we have this couple not in the ‘50s, but living today, among us, who are actively choosing to live like they are stuck in the past. Why they would do this and how happy they could really be are the first questions that spring to mind, of many, and this play does a marvelous job of answering them.
With Laura Wade’s compelling script, tight and well edited yet large in scope, “Home, I’m Darling” seems like it will be a straightforward look at gender roles and whether feminism really does encompass the choice to be subordinate, but it develops into a complex deep-dive into what makes a marriage successful. When we meet Judy and Johnny, they’ve been doing this 1950s experiment for 3 years, after Judy was made redundant at her high-powered finance job (which we see in a truly great use of flexible and creative direction). Since the two of them love ‘50s fashion and old-timey cars, Judy suggests that they go all-in and she becomes a stereotypical ‘50s housewife, doing housework (with only era-appropriate appliances and cleaning methods, which she learns from her ‘bible’, a 1949 instruction book for housewives) and cooking (meat and potatoes and other suitably ‘50s meals) and baking up a storm and bringing her husband his slippers and a cocktail every day when he gets home from work. They turn their house and every aspect of their marriage into a flashback, not realizing that moving back in time will prevent them from growing together in their marriage.
Since the play is written and directed by women, I assumed like any good feminist that the woman would get sick and tired of being subordinate. But the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that. It unexpectedly becomes a stark look at the futility of trying to capture ‘the good old days’ when it’s really a means of hiding from your own problems. I was surprised that Johnny (Richard Harrington), waited on hand and foot, would ever get tired of the arrangement, assuming that it would be a dream for him and most men. But of course he did, because both people in a relationship have to take care of each other, and anything too one-sided is going to fail. Johnny also starts to lose respect for his wife, and a self-conscious embarrassment when outsiders see how they live soon takes over.
And Judy, who seems at first to be a straightforward housewife with some self-esteem issues, is much more complex too. Played by a fantastic Katherine Parkinson, Judy desperately clings to this lifestyle, even when faced with how many problems it’s causing, because it’s her way of feeling safe against the outside world. I was struck by Katherine’s too-calm tone in her delivery, like she was deliberately avoiding causing any kind of stir to upset not only her husband but the fragile world they created. When she finally confronts why she would want to live like this, Judy admits that she feels like when you’d be sick from school for a week, missing crucial lessons and feeling a little lost on those topics from that point forward, terrified that there will be a question on the exam about that. “That’s how I feel about the world”, she says. This bubble she wanted to create was the ultimate safe space for her, and if it doesn’t work, then she’ll have to deal with her own issues.
Including the backstory of Judy’s unconventional upbringing, which influenced her worldview as well, could have felt forced but instead it seemed earnest. Raised by an uber-feminist mother (a really fun Sian Thomas, in a role that could have easily been annoying but instead was cathartic) on a commune, Judy always felt a yearning for a traditional family life. Her mother, horrified by her daughter’s decision to live this way, is the only voice of reason, continually admonishing Judy and reminding her of how silly it all is with great lines like, “You can’t be nostalgic for the ‘50s – you weren’t there!” But rather than nostalgia, it’s more a dream of an escape, an avoidance of the real world, and she has transformed her feeling of being ill-equipped to handle the real world into a decision to stay safe and secure in this way.
Plenty of time is spent looking into their relationship with their best friends and into Johnny’s work life, which lets us see the fully formed universe of this story. Johnny’s deteriorating performance at work is linked to his unhappiness at home, as is his seemingly desperate and superficial attraction to his new young boss, something modern to tell himself he wants instead of dealing with problems. Their friends Fran and Marcus enjoy dressing up in period clothes sometimes and joining Judy and Johnny at something called Jivestock, an annual weekend event that sounds like my absolute nightmare. But their reticence to commit to playing unnatural parts feels like a personal injury to Judy, like yet another little poke at her bubble threatening to force her into an unwanted reckoning. When the man friend is in trouble at work for sexual harassment, it’s unclear whether Judy’s inclination to immediate side with him (against the more-and-more obviously right victim) is a result of her role-playing warping her brain or something she actually believes in, and the haze around this side plot is brilliantly formed.
Also brilliantly formed is the set, and honestly even if you weren’t into the story, you could happily spent the 2 ½ hours examining all the details of the two-story house they built. Each room was a different bright color with period-perfect décor, down to the pineapple-shaped ice bucket on their chic mid-century modern bar. Same for Judy’s gorgeous costumes, although the rest of the costumes left me cold. And I’ve never, ever seen any play that has such elaborate prop work, most of it food. SO MUCH FOOD! They eat breakfast, she makes his lunch, they eat dinner, she bakes, she cooks for guests, they eat dinner again – I can’t remember one 10 second snippet of this play that didn’t have food or cocktails involved. Honestly I don’t know how the actors or the crew keep track of all of that (and I hope they don’t waste all of it).
Aside from the scene breaks, in which two actors would dance to ‘50s music while the scene changed (it was hella awkward when they aren’t professional dancers), there’s not much I would change about this play. Although it seems like a straightforward story, the complicated issues of our protagonists are unexpected and profound, and the show reveals a lot more about the modern world and relationships than you’d think from the candy-colored look of it all.
INFORMATION
Yeah so I didn’t know I was seeing it on the last day! I am really hoping for a transfer of some sort because it deserves a longer run in a bigger theatre, especially to get more use out of that set!
I bought a Friday rush ticket (the National Theatre offers rush tickets for the following week’s performances across its theatres at noon every Friday) for 24 pounddollars, for a restricted view seat. My seat, P58, was on the stage right side of the mezzanine, which I really liked for one reason (the stage and stalls are actually below ground so my mezz seat was ground level (I don’t like being underground)) and disliked for most others (it was really restricted). There’s a big bar like RIGHT THERE so I had to do a lot of leaning over to see the living room at stage right. Even P59 would be a better option, even though it’s a more extreme angle, because the bar isn’t there. Just so you know for Dorfman bookings.
As is expected at every London play I see, the audience (and mostly the older men) laughed at WEIRD times. Like, when the friend admits that he’s on leave from work because he was inappropriate with his secretary, the old men in the audience LAUGHED. I imagine they were laughing in remembered commiseration like ‘ho boy do I know what that’s like!’ man alive.
Since the play is written and directed by women, I assumed like any good feminist that the woman would get sick and tired of being subordinate. But the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that. It unexpectedly becomes a stark look at the futility of trying to capture ‘the good old days’ when it’s really a means of hiding from your own problems. I was surprised that Johnny (Richard Harrington), waited on hand and foot, would ever get tired of the arrangement, assuming that it would be a dream for him and most men. But of course he did, because both people in a relationship have to take care of each other, and anything too one-sided is going to fail. Johnny also starts to lose respect for his wife, and a self-conscious embarrassment when outsiders see how they live soon takes over.
And Judy, who seems at first to be a straightforward housewife with some self-esteem issues, is much more complex too. Played by a fantastic Katherine Parkinson, Judy desperately clings to this lifestyle, even when faced with how many problems it’s causing, because it’s her way of feeling safe against the outside world. I was struck by Katherine’s too-calm tone in her delivery, like she was deliberately avoiding causing any kind of stir to upset not only her husband but the fragile world they created. When she finally confronts why she would want to live like this, Judy admits that she feels like when you’d be sick from school for a week, missing crucial lessons and feeling a little lost on those topics from that point forward, terrified that there will be a question on the exam about that. “That’s how I feel about the world”, she says. This bubble she wanted to create was the ultimate safe space for her, and if it doesn’t work, then she’ll have to deal with her own issues.
Including the backstory of Judy’s unconventional upbringing, which influenced her worldview as well, could have felt forced but instead it seemed earnest. Raised by an uber-feminist mother (a really fun Sian Thomas, in a role that could have easily been annoying but instead was cathartic) on a commune, Judy always felt a yearning for a traditional family life. Her mother, horrified by her daughter’s decision to live this way, is the only voice of reason, continually admonishing Judy and reminding her of how silly it all is with great lines like, “You can’t be nostalgic for the ‘50s – you weren’t there!” But rather than nostalgia, it’s more a dream of an escape, an avoidance of the real world, and she has transformed her feeling of being ill-equipped to handle the real world into a decision to stay safe and secure in this way.
Plenty of time is spent looking into their relationship with their best friends and into Johnny’s work life, which lets us see the fully formed universe of this story. Johnny’s deteriorating performance at work is linked to his unhappiness at home, as is his seemingly desperate and superficial attraction to his new young boss, something modern to tell himself he wants instead of dealing with problems. Their friends Fran and Marcus enjoy dressing up in period clothes sometimes and joining Judy and Johnny at something called Jivestock, an annual weekend event that sounds like my absolute nightmare. But their reticence to commit to playing unnatural parts feels like a personal injury to Judy, like yet another little poke at her bubble threatening to force her into an unwanted reckoning. When the man friend is in trouble at work for sexual harassment, it’s unclear whether Judy’s inclination to immediate side with him (against the more-and-more obviously right victim) is a result of her role-playing warping her brain or something she actually believes in, and the haze around this side plot is brilliantly formed.
Also brilliantly formed is the set, and honestly even if you weren’t into the story, you could happily spent the 2 ½ hours examining all the details of the two-story house they built. Each room was a different bright color with period-perfect décor, down to the pineapple-shaped ice bucket on their chic mid-century modern bar. Same for Judy’s gorgeous costumes, although the rest of the costumes left me cold. And I’ve never, ever seen any play that has such elaborate prop work, most of it food. SO MUCH FOOD! They eat breakfast, she makes his lunch, they eat dinner, she bakes, she cooks for guests, they eat dinner again – I can’t remember one 10 second snippet of this play that didn’t have food or cocktails involved. Honestly I don’t know how the actors or the crew keep track of all of that (and I hope they don’t waste all of it).
Aside from the scene breaks, in which two actors would dance to ‘50s music while the scene changed (it was hella awkward when they aren’t professional dancers), there’s not much I would change about this play. Although it seems like a straightforward story, the complicated issues of our protagonists are unexpected and profound, and the show reveals a lot more about the modern world and relationships than you’d think from the candy-colored look of it all.
INFORMATION
Yeah so I didn’t know I was seeing it on the last day! I am really hoping for a transfer of some sort because it deserves a longer run in a bigger theatre, especially to get more use out of that set!
I bought a Friday rush ticket (the National Theatre offers rush tickets for the following week’s performances across its theatres at noon every Friday) for 24 pounddollars, for a restricted view seat. My seat, P58, was on the stage right side of the mezzanine, which I really liked for one reason (the stage and stalls are actually below ground so my mezz seat was ground level (I don’t like being underground)) and disliked for most others (it was really restricted). There’s a big bar like RIGHT THERE so I had to do a lot of leaning over to see the living room at stage right. Even P59 would be a better option, even though it’s a more extreme angle, because the bar isn’t there. Just so you know for Dorfman bookings.
As is expected at every London play I see, the audience (and mostly the older men) laughed at WEIRD times. Like, when the friend admits that he’s on leave from work because he was inappropriate with his secretary, the old men in the audience LAUGHED. I imagine they were laughing in remembered commiseration like ‘ho boy do I know what that’s like!’ man alive.
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Not a Fando of this Orlando at the Garrick Theatre
After just watching Emma Corrin in Netflix’s new adaptation of Naked Chattering with My Sturdy Lover or whatever it’s called, I was very excited to see what this likable performer can do onstage and maybe with more clothes on. (No I still haven’t watched The Crown, I’m bored thinking about it.) But despite all the glowing reviews from everyone else about Orlando at the West End’s Garrick Theatre, I found it quite the disappointment, especially compared to the book or to the superior movie with Tilda Swinton. The tone was hard to pin down, and more pressingly, it felt chaotic in its energy. More than anything, watching this show felt like reading a book by reading a few sentences every 50 pages.
This adaptation of Virginia Woolf’s beloved novel feels like the creatives were trying to erase the magic that theatre could have so ingeniously enhanced. Theatre’s unique potential to show the wonder and intrigue and joy of this story — of a young man in Elizabethan times who falls asleep for 100 years and then becomes an ambassador to Constantinople but then falls asleep again and wakes up a woman and then lives for centuries more but doesn’t really age and has a gay old time dressing as both men and women and having all kinds of lovers and then getting married for like a day and so on — felt kind of squandered in an attempt to pare the story down to bare bones. But this story doesn’t really have bones — its magical flowery surrealism is its essence! So paring it down — and at 90 minutes or less, it really is unnecessarily pared down — feels like the wrong move.
It felt like they were trying to ground (or really, ground down) the surrealist aspect of the story (and isn’t it all surreal??!!) instead of letting it fly and having the magic of theatre smooth the rough edges and augment the ambiguity in a great way. Instead, all the rough edges seemed to be highlighted. Like the fact that Orlando keeps falling asleep and waking up in new centuries even though his nursemaid is alive and the same age feels forking weird, instead of being another lovely thing to let color the mood and shape of the piece. Sure the nurse is the funniest part of the show but even that feels like a random insertion when compared to the rest of the cast and happenings.
The attempts at sincerity, especially at the end trying to show Orlando’s feelings for her new husband, feel incredibly unearned and false since nothing was given the chance to feel earned. Everything felt quick, random, chaotic. The pointed proclamations made about gender and living freely etc thus also feel unearned, even though they were disappointingly weak and bare to begin with. So overall it just felt like a missed opportunity, focusing too much on the meta-story of the 8 or so Virginias Woolf writing the story as it was shown to us (even that felt half-assed) and not enough on letting the story breathe fully in its gloriousness so it could have the strength to say something worthwhile.
INFORMATION
Run time: 90 minutes.
Orlando is playing at the Garrick until February 25. The Garrick is an old for the earth theatre and I keep forgetting that the circle is better than the stalls, but for this short show the stalls weren’t so bad. Just remember that the ladies toilies are upstairs. And old. For the earth.
The pillars that restrict views in the stalls aren’t really that bad, so it’s worth saving a few pounds.
Mask count: two, me and husbo. Everyone else was coughing freely. Humans are gross.
“How to Succeed” in London: Make An Old Show Absolutely Ridiculously Hysterical
“How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying” is one of those old Broadway musicals from just after the Golden Age (1961) that I always forget I like. Fun fact: I saw Daniel Radcliffe on Broadway in the 2011 revival of “How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying” (a ‘Birdman’ long title which I will from here on out refer to as H2$) TWICE. I mean I liked Harry Potter fine but I wasn’t a fangirl of Big D until this show. I really can’t believe I saw it twice lol. He was GREAT. That’s not important right now. Funner fact: When Husband learned that the venue around the corner from our flat was doing a small production of H2$, of course we went, considering it is around the corner from our flat, but I completely forgot that I knew the show and that I kind of loved it and that I had seen it enough times for me to memorize pretty much all the lyrics. I just thought, hey sounds fun, I like seeing theatre and we should support the smaller productions in London too. All I remembered really was that there was some hefty ‘60s-era misogyny that we should take with a grain of salt because of when it was written, or as I explained to my friend who came along, “It’s really sexist but in kind of a lovely way.”
We walked the ten seconds to Wilton’s Music Hall and the show began and I literally slapped myself in the face with the metaphorical hand of memory and was like OH YEAH I LOVE THIS SHOW. Wilton’s production is obviously smaller than the Broadway one (and I could move my chair! like on Alitalia), with less exciting dancing, but what’s there is hilarious and so well done. They successfully mine the book and score for every single sarcastic, cutting drop of humor that I think it’s the funniest production of H2$ I’ve seen. I laughed so hard throughout, especially at every slight movement Matthew Whitby made. It was an extraordinarily self-aware production, like they realized the material was sexist and lily white and stuff and so presented it as mocking itself a little. I think a lot of this is in the original book anyway – you can’t have a song called “A Secretary is Not a Toy” (omg I accidentally typed Tory first hahaha I hope none of your secretaries are Tories (I hope none of you are Tories) (please don’t let them win)) and not have the sardonic bite built into the actual show – but I never really noticed it until this production. And I never knew it won the Pulitzer Prize, and sexist things can’t win prizes (or positions of power?) so of course it had to be tongue-in-cheek right?
So what is the actual show about? As I explained to Husband beforehand, “It’s like this guy, and he like charms his way up a company ladder, and it’s like ocean colors?” I remembered that from the 2011 set, what can I say. Also apparently I say like a lot in real life. So what is it really about now that my brain is working? J. Pierrepont Finch, a charming young man who works as a window washer, realizes ‘hey, I can’t be a window washer with this name, not that there’s anything wrong with being one, but my name was clearly made to be attached to a man of great stature at a Fortune 500 company, otherwise what a waste, also it would help matters along if I were British because who else has a name like that, but I can’t change that now, so we’ll try to get a corporate job and because I’m American I’ll just go by Ponty because Americans could never abide a first-initial-legit-ridiculous-middle-name combo on anyone but S. Epatha.’ Okay that’s my thought process not his, but the gist is there. (Oh my god I never until now wondered what the J is for. Any guesses??) Ponty wants a big time corporate job like most white men do (and how!) so he goes into the office building for the World Wide Wickets Company (hilarious made-up business that has the side effect of reminding you of the bar exam (so many widgets/wickets questions)) and just straight up starts charming people into a job and up the ladder consistently and swiftly. It’s a good lesson that it doesn’t matter what your skills are as long as people like you.
As Finch (I can’t say Ponty too much or my stomach starts to hurt), Marc Pickering played the character differently from both Radcliffe and Matthew Broderick (back when he was appealing onstage and not a wooden statue but I digress). His Finch was a smooth charmer of course, but in a much subtler way, and with a more devious, scheming vibe. Finch is always scheming, but other portrayals have had him be a little more cheerful and pleased when his scheming pays off, like in every single scene when he gets promoted over someone else or orchestrates someone else’s firing because of something he knew or did. Others’ reactions have been like ‘cheeky smile – ah ha!’ Marc was more like ‘side eye half smile- YEAH BITCH I DID THAT YOU DARE MESS??’. He was charming but also aloof. And a little scary. It all worked. He looked just like a young Pee Wee Herman who could also have been a Newsie when he was little and I don’t mean that at all in a mean way.
The show starts with Ponty weasling his way into an entry-level position by alluding to the head of HR that he knows the boss. That’s a really good real-world tip. The opening number “How To Succeed” with those weird intervals sounded a lot nicer than I remembered, so bravo. In the five seconds it takes for Finch to land this job, a secretary named Rosemary falls for him because why not/’60s and sings the song I had been singing in jest to my husband the whole week prior, “Happy To Keep His Dinner Warm”. My god I still can’t get over how funny it is that there is a song called this, literally about how a lady would be content to make her husband’s dinner and then keep it warm when he works late. It’s amazing. If you take it with a grain of salt. Hannah Grover’s Rosemary is lovely and manages to get to through the song without breaking and screaming about how we have to topple the patriarchy, as I would have done. More impressively, her mic was having a fit throughout her big song, which is such a shame (that I hope the tech people have sorted by now), but she didn’t even flinch, whereas I would have probably screamed ‘WTF IS GOING ON’ and ruined everyone’s night, so brava.
As usual, the comic song “Coffee Break” goes on way too long, as all jokey songs/jokey anythings tend to, but the choreography was pretty funny. Luckily, before I could worry, it leads into my favorite song that, again, I completely forgot was in this show, “The Company Way”. Finch, in the mailroom, gets to know the head of the mailroom (Richard Emerson, who plays all the older man parts aside from the boss and is hilarious in all of them), who describes how he has lasted this long in the company by always playing it safe and toeing the company line. It’s a delightful, catchy song that I haven’t been able to get out of my head all week, and the delivery of all Emerson’s little lines was spot on. I love this scene. We also meet our villain, as all adorable preppy blond boys are, Bud Frump, the boss JB Biggley’s nephew who uses nepotism to try to advance his career. Okay, I know you are rolling your eyes – Frump? F-ing BIGGLEY? But take a deep breath because I’m about to blow your mind. These character names were not made up for this production in response to the current ruin of America. These are the real names from the original 1961 production. I KNOW!!! I think 90% of the audience, tittering when they heard these names like I am tittering at the word tittering, thought they were added for this. See musical theatre is always relevant!
As Bud Frump, Daniel Graham is wonderfully exasperating and annoying as he is supposed to be, and it’s almost hard to hate such a cute person in such cool glasses (he looked exactly like Christopher Hanke to me, from the 2011 revival). It was extra hard to remember that the names were not changed for this production when Bud continuously whines about how he should get what he wants because his uncle is the boss and who cares if he’s qualified if he wants something. So on point. As for the other fair-haired adoraboys in the cast, I don’t even remember Mr Bratt in the H2$ Bway revival but the aforementioned Matthew Whitby f-ing SLAYED me. How he managed he make such a nothing character into the funniest performance ever boggles my mind. He did a lot of amazing side glances and had hysterical comic timing. But more than that, it was his footwork. He seemed to be in a ballet that the rest of the cast didn’t always know about, step-ball-changing and pirouetting around the stage. I was dying. We all were. When he came in to do a scene change dressed as a maid for no good reason, my god. Whose idea was this? So ridiculous and so funny. All the choreography was great, actually. There were no really big booming dance numbers, but all the movement had a clear purpose and was very effective. And so much of it was really funny. I would not be surprised if the choreographer was really a comedian.
Despite the first act being over an hour and a half long (I KNOW), it pretty much flew by with very few low points. I think the pacing could surely be improved a great deal (I do not remember any other production being this long) but there’s not much that’s noticeable. The song at the end of Act I “Rosemary” is too long for being literally just her name repeated ad infinitum, but that’s more OG problems. The scenes with Biggley (Andrew Wadsworth) and Hedy La Rue (Lizzii Hills why are there two i’s I’m genuinely curious) kind of dragged but that’s because those are two kind of thankless characters. I know everyone familiar with this show is aghast at what I just said and shouting ‘but they’re literally 2 of the like 4 main characters’ and I know but still, there’s not the ones we root for. They did a fine job of course and were enjoyable. But you spend the whole show actively rooting for Finch to trick Biggley at every turn, so it’s not like you invest in him or his own story (and the only thing that’s really his own is his affair with Hedy). And Hedy’s whole thing is that she prances about being an attractive bimbo who knows every man wants her, and so unless you are Tammy Blanchard waddling hysterically around the stage and making killer faces, it is a little thankless. Lliizzii did however manage to make us cry with laughter in her first scene, when she apologizes because “it was I whom was late”. Died. And Biggley’s big goofy number with Finch where they sing the Old Ivy fight song was hilarious too. Okay fine they were all great. The whole cast was. Geri Allen was an adorable Smitty. I always lose it when Smitty comes in during “Paris Original”, and Geri nailed how funny that moment should be. Maisey Bawden as Miss Jones was good too, although it seemed like she wasn’t miked at the end and it was hard for her big verse in “Brotherhood of Man” to be as show-stopping as I could tell up front that it could have been. And Nuwan Hugh Perera, who we last saw in the supes creepy “Side Show”, was solid all-around until the end when he was like shimmying in a corner of the stage and we were DYING. So f-ing funny. God everyone in this cast was hilarious and made this show so much fun. We were all seriously in stitches the entire time. That’s so rare and awesome.
And the score! How could I have forgotten how much fun this score is? Why was the song about keeping dinner warm the only one that stuck before? I so love “The Company Way” like I said, but every song is special in its own way. “A Secretary Is Not A Toy” I mean COME ON. I wonder if they know about this song over at Fox News. Someone should send them a recording. And I love “I Believe in You”, when Finch gears himself up for his big meeting and the rest of the company men dream of taking him down. This song was staged in the men’s bathroom, which is a preposterous and amazing idea. Finch is singing to himself in the mirror and using the urinal and stuff and then the rest of the men are watching him and also using the urinals like at least 4 times and singing about how they’re gonna stop him coooold and you’re like how do you already have to pee again you should see a doctor! So good. And nothing gets you as pumped up as “Brotherhood of Man”, even if you are a woman. It’s set up nicely in the scene, with all the company men coming to a face-off about who to blame for the problems Finch has caused. Emerson was hysterical here doing a crazy heavy ‘New York’ accent as the chairman of the board who also used to be a window washer. When he said ‘window washer’ it sounded like he had cotton in his mouth and we were crying. He really sounded just like my South Philly Italian uncle. So good. Finch gets out of the jam by pointing out their shared humanity – being men – which is so dumb and perfect. “Brotherhood of Man” is a joyous, satisfyingly big number that you can’t help but smile throughout. I can’t wait to sing it to my baby nephew when I teach him the responsibility of his white male privilege and all the perks he can look forward to, as the song teaches us.
Honestly, my expectations for this production were seriously low. I knew nothing about this production and thought it was going to be some tiny nothing at the nearby jazz hall. That it was so sublime and kept all of us grinning wildly for 3 hours is something I never would have predicted and am really grateful for. SO MUCH FUN. It ends its short run Saturday so if you are in London you should absolutely see it. Compared to the West End, tickets are cheap, yet the quality of the production is so high. It’s a guaranteed good time so you should definitely go and then I dare you not to sing all the songs all day long.
