“Othello” at Shakespeare’s Globe: Men Be Trippinby Randi / September 20, 2018
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about the shocking American play that recently came to London’s Soho Theatre.
You know how art can be fucking crazy? (‘You know how people have these little habits that get you down?’) Like how artists, regardless of their medium, like to shock their audience into strongly feeling something so they do bonkers things like using feces instead of paint (real example) and preserving a shark in formaldehyde (real example) and nailing their scrotum to Red Square (real example) and constructing a complicated series of machines that take food and pass it through tubes and bowls to digest it in stages until it literally produces poo at the end (real example that I’ll discuss more of when I blog about our Australia adventure)? Well here’s one more example! ‘Underground Railroad Game’, considered one of the 25 best plays of the past 25 years by the New York Times, is forking nuts and made me feel very uncomfortable in ways no theatre has ever done. Yet unlike the aforementioned examples of alarming ‘art’, this play wasn’t being scandalous just for the sake of being scandalous – it actually had a purpose for wicking me out so much, and although I’m still grappling with it, I can’t deny that it was powerful. (The other examples are bullshirt.)
‘Underground Railroad Game’, which from now on I’ll refer to as URG because that’s the sound I made through the entire back half, is a riveting 80 minute tour of American racism on a societal level and an interpersonal level, and even though it starts off funny, it’ll leave you staring hard into the floor wishing that it would swallow you whole so you don’t have to think about how gross you feel from what you just witnessed and what it said about the world and people and black people and white people and America and just everything but then you get up because you want to take a shower.
And boy does it start off funny. The play opens on a barn at night in the 1800s, as a scared, skittish black woman enters and ravenously eats an apple from her pocket. But when she hears a man outside, she hides in a wooden box. The man still finds her but tells her she doesn’t have to be scared – he’s one of the good white men, an ‘angel’ really, who will help this runaway slave escape to the north. Their acting is overly earnest and over the top, and kind of funny but we started to worry that the entire play was going to bank on this conceit holding water for more than a few minutes. Of course, just when we thought ‘hmm is this really this play?’, the lights came on in the entire theatre, jarring the audience, and the two actors came closer downstage and said to us, “Okay class! What did we learn?”
Those two actors, Jennifer Kidwell and Scott R. Sheppard, are the two creators and writers of this play. And they’re not playing a slave and an abolitionist – they’re playing two enthusiastic teachers at Hanover Middle School, and we, the audience members, are their 7th grade students. They explain that their little skit was an introduction to their social studies unit on the Underground Railroad, in which they will combine forces as classes. We students would be separated into Union and Confederate Troops, and during the next few weeks, the Union army would try to sneak black baby dolls from one classroom’s wooden box to the other’s without Confederate troops catching them – our own underground railroad! To see which side we were on, we were told to look under our seats, where we all found little envelopes with little army men figurines inside. (This is when I broke my theatre rule of No Talking and whispered to Husband “oh so this is like REALLY interactive, huh.”) Who has a blue figure? they asked, and the appropriate audience members whooped, as people do. You’re the Union army! Who has a gray figure? I did, and I was told ‘You’re the Confederacy!’ Instead of whooping, we all, being woke, booed, and Sheppard quickly said “Hey hey none of that! We support our troops!” and we all died laughing.
As middle school teachers, they absolutely slayed me with their pitch perfect demeanor and comments. “Eyes up here!” they pointedly shouted at anyone who was talking to their companion or looking elsewhere. “I better not see any phones kids!” My favorite too-accurate thing of theirs was when the (extended) school bell would ring and they’d both shout together at us: “That’s not our bell! That’s not our bell! Stay seated!” One such moment had me laughing so hard that I made a little squeak-laugh sound after the rest of the audience had already quieted down from their laughter. Sheppard and Kidwell both focused their attention on me like laser beams and glared me down and then Sheppard said, “We’ll wait.” I wanted to laugh even harder at that but true to middle school form I just turned bright red instead and wanted to vomit as everyone turned to look at me, but I also became hysterical.
So I bet you are thinking this sounds just HILARIOUS and like a jolly good time, and it really was, because this was the nice little part that represented how most people learn about racism and America’s racist history – they make it palatable in our schools, and easy and clean and no one gets hurt. But that way doesn’t really work, because our history wasn’t easy or clean and way too many people got hurt, and continue to get hurt, from the racist foundations of America. These cheerful lessons don’t do much to teach kids about real racism and how it affects our society or stop them from growing up into racist adults.
And so, Kidwell and Sheppard swiftly change the story’s focus from these cute lessons for the kids onto their interpersonal relationship as teachers, and then as romantic partners, of two different races. At first it’s funny, like in their Gene-Kelly-throwback dancing around town, or when they ‘walk’ through town making jokes about race that quickly go too far. Even though they start pushing boundaries early on, they’re still boundaries we have seen before, so the discomfort is familiar.
But then. Oh but then. As their relationship progresses, they can no longer gloss over the serious issues created by their different races or the history of what that difference means. Sure both of them teach about slavery but only one of them really understands it on a profound rather than academic level. As a black woman and a white man, they are going to be haunted by the master and slave relationship of their ancestors, haunted by their own lesson plan of whether they’d be reaffirming or rewriting history together. They try to work out their issues in weird sexual ways that become somewhat cruel. Then the ‘somewhat’ falls by the wayside and these two incredibly brave performers start exorcising the demons of history in full-on sadomasochistic ways, playing back and forth with the master and slave roles as the stunned audience looks on and wonders whether we should go get help. The first glimpse of a stark naked Sheppard elicits gasps from the astonished audience, but then he’s naked for like a good 20 minutes, as Kidwell treats him like he’s on an auction block and breaks rulers on his back and chases him around with terrifying advances, culminating in him masturbating into a flag. All of it seemed real – especially, grossly, that last bit – so it was distressing, offensive, and actually appalling to watch. As I covered my face with my hands, I was flabbergasted that the adorable little middle-school-assembly show I was laughing at an hour ago had morphed into this horrifying trauma for everyone involved. But I get it. Going too far in ways we’ve never really seen before in the theatre (at least mainstream theatre) let them so powerfully argue that the horrors of slavery are as relevant and real today as they were in the past, damaging people and relationships and society still. I mean I think they had to do it, at least. I’m still quite traumatized.
INFORMATION
‘Underground Railroad Game’ is at London’s Soho Theatre until October 13th (looks like they got an extension). Tickets are pretty cheap.
No I didn’t stage door are you kidding me I saw them naked.
Related Posts
Jeannette Bayardelle’s Shida is a Triumph
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Shida, playing at The Vaults theatre until October 13.
The biographical musical Shida premiered off-Broadway six years ago, the summer of 2013, when I still lived close enough to NYC to see shows almost every single weekend and considered myself pretty in the know and yet this show wasn’t on my radar so like WHAT THE HELL WAS WRONG WITH ME? Don’t be like me – if you are close enough to see the London production of this impeccable, heart-breaking, soul-building show before October 13, you must see it. Oh I just checked my travel spreadsheet (yes of course) and apparently I was in Croatia for some of the NYC run but GUYS this show is BETTER THAN CROATIA so no excuses.
Okay obviously saying a show is better than a country is not the hill I’m going to die on (but also all musicals are better than all countries? because musicals are the magic of life and we shouldn’t have international borders anyway? I didn’t expect this review to get here) but Shida is truly special. It’s been a minute since I’ve seen something that reinforced the power of the art form AND that I didn’t have any critiques of. I’ve always got some little improvements or changes I’d love to see made, even for my favorite shows! I could not find anything to change in this show if you paid me.
(Okay except that it started like 15 mins late but then it was immediately so good that I DIDN’T EVEN CARE!)
Shida, written and performed by Jeannette Bayardelle, follows a young black girl named Shida growing up in the Bronx, her mother, her mother’s boyfriend, her new best friend Jackie, her favorite teacher, and more characters shaping Shida’s childhood and influencing her future. Except all these well-defined characters are all played by Jeannette, a master at dipping in and out of characters as seamlessly and fully as if there were a full cast up there. It begins by showing grown-up Shida as an addict on the streets of New York and then circling back to her childhood and the trauma that led to her that point so you know from the start that you’ll be getting stabbed in the heart. Musically. And yeah it took more energy that I’ve expended in months to keep myself from ugly crying in that loud disruptive manner that sometimes (often) happens to me in the theatre where if I were in your audience you’d be like ‘SHUT UP GIRL THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU’ but man alive is this show beautiful.
A lot of the flawlessness is owed to director Andy Sandberg (not that one) (it’s actually Samberg, the one you’re thinking of (I know I don’t like that either)) helping maneuver the many changes in and out of the various characters and making a one-woman show feel fuller than most West End musicals with large ensembles. And I don’t know who is responsible for the smooth change that occurs whenever Shida is handed her special bracelets but it’s probably god, that’s how powerful a tiny movement was. As for Jeannette, I’m simply in awe. Her nuanced facial expressions and vocal inflections, telling so much so efficiently, would be enough to grant her a medal from me (for whatever, I don’t know, ‘Most’) but her singing?? and her acting?? and her humo(u)r! AND SHE WROTE THIS! I can’t deal with her brilliance. I’m not going to spoil the post-show reveal of who the real people involved were because it’s too much to handle.Maybe I shouldn’t recommend that you all go because anyone weaker emotionally than I am would probably explode and that’s just gross for everyone.
INFORMATION
Shida is at The Vaults, which is behind Waterloo Station and a little tricky to find if like me you don’t realize that you can’t walk through the brick walls surrounding the station. Aim for the intersection of Launcelot and Lower Marsh and it’s on that block.
It’s pretty small (one central aisle) and there are no bad seats, although the seats themselves feel like they might break.
Programmes are $5 (that’s in pounds) and they’re also selling CDs for $10 (pounddollars).
I’m not sure if she stagedoors; she didn’t come out in the 15 minutes or so it took me to return to normal breathing, buy a programme, and use the bathroom but it’s probably for the best because I would have been like WHAT HOW WHAT.
“An American in Paris” Finally Classes Up London’s West End
I knowww, I can’t believe it has taken me this long to see “An American in Paris” either! It came out on Broadway right when I moved across ye olde Atlantic, and it kept just coming short of nabbing a slot on my ever-shrinking Broadway to-do list because a) I figured it would last a long time, unlike other shows that took short-NYC-visit precedence and b) there were rumors of a London production. Luckily that London production has finally arrived, and with better news than I could have hoped – with the two original amazing stars, Robert Fairchild and Leanne Cope! I know! It’s as beautiful a production as I expected, and Robbie (can I call him that okay great) and Leanne are as wonderful as I imagined. There are some sluggish and/or unnecessary parts that scream for editing, but overall it’s a truly splendid time. Also I’m obviously joking in the headline. I mean not 100% but mostly.
Based on the 1951 Oscar-winning Gene Kelly film that – gasp – I don’t think I’ve ever seen omg gasp, “An American in Paris” (AAIP) (my fingers really want to type AARP) tells the story of an American soldier named Jerry who is sooooo charming (F-O-X) who decides to stay in immediately-post-war Paris and ‘work on his art’, otherwise known as try to find the mysterious, beautiful girl he saw just randomly in the streets of Paris and obvs fell in love with instantly as happens in all the classic love stories. We meet an interesting array of white people who all have dreams and goals and desires and they sing along to Gershwin songs that kind of sort of relate to those desires but unlike other jukebox musicals the disconnect between story and old popular song is not as offensive as it usually is (cough ‘Mamma Mia’). Maybe it’s because the Gershwin force-around was a part of the original movie, so you can’t blame the stage version for juking. And importantly, a lot of the ballet is danced to purely orchestral pieces (like ‘An American in Paris’) and stuff, so it’s not like the most dramatic dance of the show is to ‘I Got Rhythm’ or something dreadful like that.
Before talking more in depth about the show, I feel the need to point out YET AGAIN that despite all the millions of dollars available to pay for original art, the main promotional art for “La La Land” was, shall we say, quite similar to the preexisting Broadway show art for AAIP, which thankfully they are still using because it is so beautiful.
The show begins with David Seadon-Young, who plays supporting male character Adam, sitting at a piano on an otherwise empty stage and telling us that oh boy does he have a story for us, or something like that, and isn’t war terrible but ain’t love grand. I don’t remember because I was immediately stunned by a little bit of stage magic – a huge tarp-like French flag is lifted up by ensemblists and brought down a second later to reveal an empty stage –they vanished the piano! I’m sure that’s a simple trapdoor kind of thing under the stage or something but I literally gasped and everyone laughed at me probably but it was the best day.
The story starts in Paris as American GIs are saying goodbye to their French loves and French soldiers are coming home (or not) to their anguished families, all amid a lovely tableau of ballet-dancing French civilians. We see our tiny leading lady Lise (Leanne Cope), dark and mysterious (while still being properly English pale), help a Nazi lady out of a pickle (was being attacked by some civilians) and you’re like oh I guess we’re supposed to think Lise is a lovely kind person…because…she’s…helping…a nazi….This action does turn out to say an awful lot about how kind she is indeed, in a way that I guess her helping an innocent child who fell or something wouldn’t, but still, no one gets points for helping Nazis. Well, unless the points are from Jerry, who sees this encounter and is like wow that beautiful little paledark flutterbug is so selfless, I MUST HAVE HER.
The crowds ebb and flow and Jerry loses sight of his new love interest. Jerry (or as Lise will say, “Zherreeeee” and it sounds like ‘cherie’ which just a nice little play on it get it because she love him) wanders into a bar and meets Adam (wounded veteran, maybe he knew him before I don’t remember) and Henri (rich French guy, played by Haydn Oakley) and is like hay let’s be bros also I need a place to live and a job and they’re like great stay and work here, new best friend. Things are great in musicals. Adam is a composer and pianist, while Henri works in his parents’ business but hides his secret life as a song-and-dance man (not a singer or dancer; a song-and-dance man) from them as they are serious people who would seriously disapprove. Henri also has a girlfriend and the boys are like you should totes propose to her! Oh silly boys, you have no idea.
Meanwhile, Lise auditions for the Paris ballet, for which Adam is the pianist, and he falls in love with her because she treats him like a human being despite his slight limp. Then the guys realize that Lise is the woman Henri is planning to marry, and of course we know Jerry is in love with her too so early on you’re thinking of Heath Ledger in “Ten Things I Hate About You” asking in his special way why everyone’s obsessed with Alex Mack. Lise is a beautiful dancer, and she makes the company now that it’s benefiting from a new wave of money from American philanthropist Milo Davenport (Zoe Rainey). Milo is one of those brash and assertive women who are annoying for really no better reason than that they’re confident. Milo sees Jerry and is like “I like!” but pretends she likes his art and gets him hired as the ballet’s chief, um, art maker. This lets him spend more time with Lise, but then when it’s revealed that she’s Henri’s pretty much fiancée, Jerry starts sort of dating Milo/letting her buy him things and you’re like ahhh figure your shit out your shit is a mess, characters! Milo is a thankless role, really, because she’s rich and loud and wears bright colors and isn’t the one Jerry’s supposed to be with so you hate her but I bet the story from her perspective would be amazing but we aren’t here for her so shut it. Zoe Rainey does a decent enough job, but it’s hard to make the character more than two-dimensional, or make her likeable, so Milo stays the former and isn’t the latter.
Despite all the unwanted relaysh drama in the book, the show really is a series of interactions between Lise and Zherreeeee, where they dance by the river and it’s s’wonderful. Leanne Cope was a principal in the Royal Ballet, and Robbie in the NYC Ballet, so they are two of the best in the world. Even though the show was generally well constructed and there are some gorgeous extended ballet sequences, I wanted the show to be 100x more them doing ballet, I don’t care if it would have been too much for some. It’s GORGEOUS. (And don’t just tell me to go see a ballet because I did that recently and it was soo boring and ACTUALLY, there still wasn’t enough dancing! Mostly people were standing and doing the presentation wave and lookie here moves with their arms. Also the story was creepy af I mean an army of teenage ghost brides who capture living men in the woods what the actual sexist nonsense.) When they dance together, it says more about what they are feeling and what we’re supposed to be feeling than any dialogue could (or does). It’s magical and it almost excuses the weak parts of the show. You see that despite Zherry’s dalliance with Milo and despite Lise’s expected engagement, they love each other and are supposed to end up together. Although they clearly know that, they are both conflicted by their feelings of obligation to their respective others, Zherry in terms of financial support/sugarmama and his entry into the legitimate Parisian art world, and Lise, we learn, because Henri’s family saved her from the Nazis. You can’t walk out on someone who hid your little Jewish behind from the Nazis!
My favorite scene, I think, is their adorable dance to the song “Liza”, when Jerry tells Lise he’s going to call her Liza when they have their secret meetings by the Seine, so they can pretend to be other people without all the baggage they’re lugging and enjoy carefree moments in each other’s company without worrying about what in means outside their love bubble and also so they could shoehorn some storyline around this particular Gershwin song. I don’t mind the Mamma Mia-ing here, because their dance is so playful and lovely. Jerry moves Lise around their park bench in a mischievous manner, carrying and tossing and lifting her this way and that as she reluctantly-at-first-but-then-wholeheartedly joins in the fun. Robbie really shows off here that he is the reincarnation of Gene Kelly, because not only is he the world’s best dancer, but he can sing too. And to sing well while dancing like that? and lifting a human? And being sooo charming? He is amazing. I’m still glad Michael Cerveris won the Tony for “Fun Home” but can we just throw all kinds of other awards at Robbie so he never leaves musical theatre? Like a Pulitzer or a Nobel or something I don’t care just make sure he stays.
Oh no my real favorite scene is when Jerry gets Lise fired (ish) from her job at the Galeries Lafayette, where I bought two of my favorite shirts that I never wear. He pesters her while she’s working as a salesgirl so obviously she’s the one that gets blamed for the ruckus he causes but it’s okay because of the aforementioned charm. I forget what song it is to because jukebox musical so it doesn’t really matter for the plot and they and all the shoppers do this incredible dance with colorful umbrellas and Jerry glides around the jewelry counters and you’re just like this guy is Gene Kelly hot damn. It’s impossible not to smile like a fool like a FOOL.
Aside from some of the song shoehorning, the weak spots come from giving supporting characters too much to do. It doesn’t really add anything to the story to give Milo her own songs. The purpose of that in any other show would be to flesh out her character and explain her actions, but since this is a jukebox show, and the songs were not written for this character, they don’t do anything for her, so it’s just kind of a waste of time. Same for Adam, who is a beloved character because he’s so nice and is another secret (not so secret?) Jew, but he still could have been edited a bit. Having so much of him being sad starts to give off that icky vibe that oh maybe we are supposed to be rooting for him instead because ‘he’s so nice’ and then you have the whole ‘nice guy’s entitlement’ problem creeping in that shouldn’t in any way be connected to this decent character because we will start to turn on him and no one wants that. That’s a very minor quibble though, because I do like Adam a lot. Most egregiously, though, is what they do with Henri. Haydn is a great actor, and it’s great for him to show off in a big showstopping musical number…but not in this show. His big long dream sequence “I’ll Build a Stairway To Paradise” is by far the most expensive-looking scene in the show, with shiny sets and sparkly showgirl costumes. And it is one of the longest songs (at least it seems it), yet it does nothing for the plot. I still cannot believe it didn’t get cut in previews on Broadway or really previews at the Chatelet in Paris, their pre-Broadway tryout (I love that they did it there). Every Broadway producer says that the rigorous vetting process for each and every musical number ensures that songs that are included in final versions advance the plot, or are necessary for character development. I can’t think of one good reason for this number to still be in the show, except that the casts always have a strong male non-Jerry singer they want to show off. That’s not a good reason.
Luckily, that ridiculousness (sorry Haydn you did a good job at it though) is followed by the most exquisite extended ballet, and one of the best dance scenes I’ve seen (up there with Sutton’s “Anything Goes”). Lise, in her big debut, is dancing and only gets through her performance by imagining Zherry up there with her. They do this surealist-art inspired ballet that from the costumes to the set to the sometimes-jerky-but-still-beautiful-movement looks like a Miro painting. It’s exquisite and weird and you never want it to end. To have this big dramatic moment expressed only through movement (this is the part that uses the AAIP music with that da da da, da da da da da daaaaaa you get it) is something very special and rare to see in musical theatre. I would totally second-act this show every week if that were a thing respectable people could do just to keep watching that scene.
Robbie and Leanne are so perfect together, I can’t imagine anyone else up there (despite the fact that Robbie has an alternate for one show per week, who I’m sure is wonderful, but man alive). They truly are finds, especially Robbie who really is the reincarnation of Gene Kelly. I hope more musicals that feature ballet get made so he and Leanne stay in the theatre for a long time. It was just announced that Robbie is going to be in a concert version of “Brigadoon” in November with two of my all-times, Kelli O’Hara and Steven Pasquale (erma erma erma) (I must go), but I don’t think it’s a very balletic show or role; I hope I’m wrong. I know his character is part of a big dance but like with swords? I think he also dies, spoiler. Anyway, I’m off track as per uzh. AAIP was so beautiful and is really just a great time. If you are in London, you must see it.
THEATRE
The programs are gorgeous (again, see above), but they only sell the large souvenir-style ones that are twice as expensive as the normal ones. They are really big and won’t fit in any bag allowed inside a theatre. :/ But they are cool. But so expensive. but cool.
It’s a really big theatre and seems a lot more modern in terms of facilities than most West End theatres. Like normal sized humans can fit in the seats. As usual there aren’t enough ladies toilets but what can you do besides oh yeah build more.
OH someone front row center was filming so at intermission I told the house manager and like every usher and pointed out the offender. They told her to stop filming. Like, come on people, where is your sense of JUSTICE? KICK. FILMERS. OUT. ON. THEIR. NO. GOOD. BUTTS. I feel like my entire bucket list now is just to see a theatre have the balls to deal with offenders properly, i.e. kicking them out. THAT’S ALL I WANT. that’s not all i want.
STAGE DOOR
They all came out and were super friendly wheeee!!!
