The American Clock at London’s Old Vic: What was the Depression Like? Depressing.by Randi / March 13, 2019It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is the brand-new work Shipwreck, playing at London’s Almeida Theatre until March 30.
Anne Washburn writes some of the most intriguing plays of recent times, usually saying something interesting but in a strange, off-kilter way that heightens the story. Unfortunately, Shipwreck, the ‘Donald Trump play’, as it’s known, hasn’t managed to harmonize the ‘things to say’ with the ‘strange’ in a way that makes three hours of thinking about Cheeto Mussolini worthwhile. The messages Washburn finds important to share with us are conveyed mainly in monologues and often told directly to the audience, rather than through character interaction, a contrivance that often seems like cheating. The expected weirdness from her works comes in random spurts, and while some of it works, some of it really doesn’t, and all of it would be better suited to a framework built for the more fantastical aspects.
From the title, I assumed the tale would involve an actual shipwreck that would be an allegory for the current political situation, something complex and deep that reflected the Angry Creamsicle’s mess in a sophisticated way. Or just in any metaphorical sense. To my surprise, it’s literally about a group of liberal friends complaining about the Carrot Demon, just flat out, nothing complex about it. There’s even a meta moment where the characters talk about how political plays that aren’t metaphorical are always less effective and too specific. So…that’s true, guys. I get that it’s hard to write a play about a situation that changes by the minute, as it’s both important to document the current times and impossible for the work to remain current, but to literally acknowledge that, what, you know it won’t be successful? It’s weird. Is it a self-own?
I was still open-minded and hoping to find deeper meaning, perhaps in the setting – a remote farmhouse, a new acquisition of one of the couples, during a severe snowstorm where they hadn’t stocked up on food. The group is forced to eat old frozen hotdogs and use ketchup as a main ingredient in pasta, which could indicate the kind of desperate trouble we’re all in. Yet the farmhouse scenes – the vast majority of the play – mainly feature the friends talking, complaining, arguing about politics and rehashing the same kinds of statements most of us have given or heard for the past three years. In the rare instances when they say something new – like when Khalid Abdalla’s character asks whether, since nothing else has saved the world, maybe this Dark Wizard is actually the answer – it feels like nonsense. His character seems like a fairly together dude; surely he knows that we’ve tried literally nothing to try to save the world, so what on earth would persuade him to believe a farfetched mysticism that’s so ridiculous?
Despite strong acting throughout (and really good accent work all around, so pleased), the only ‘normal’ character that had a real effect was Fisayo Akinade as a black child (and then adult) adopted by a conservative white family. I wish there was more of him and his story; perhaps it wouldn’t have felt so random and the ‘payoff’ realization at the end so underwhelming.
Because so much of the play is straightforward, mostly unoriginal talking points, the trademark Washburn bits we do get feel entirely out of place. And not in a good ‘oh this is dramatically jarring’ kind of way, but in a ‘why hasn’t the entire show been this absurdist’ kind of way. Although I did not think the battle royale between George W. Bush and Trump worked (and it went on way too long), I still appreciated that they were doing something different. The device with James Comey coming to dinner felt a bit underdeveloped, but his scenes with a golden-brushed Caligula-like Trump character were effective. I would have loved if Elliot Cowan played this crazy emperor-god looking dude the entire show, even though at times, when his voice echoed the exact vocal inflections that Cadet Bone Spurs does, I threw up in my mouth a little, and even though associating his muscular physique with the president’s is too kind. These scenes give the kind of fascinating take on this situation we expected from a Washburn show, not one that is 90% talking to us about how bad things are and how we are probably part of the problem.
And I am so sick of all the clichés. I’m sick of the clichés about why people voted for a Curdled Orange Julius. Oh, you’re scared of immigrants hurting the economy? Well, you’re an idiot; should I feel sorry for your ignorance or just keep being angry? I’m sick of the clichés about how terrible white liberals are. Yes white women are hella annoying but it’s not original or funny to have a white liberal woman character who isn’t perfect but who tries to do the right thing, and to use her mistakes to lambast all liberals. Isn’t trying to be a good person and an ally better than openly being a shitty person? Sure they all desperately need to be sent copies of “So You Want To Talk About Race” but their need for some racial education doesn’t make them worse than racists.
This kind of screwed up discourse we have in society, with demanding perfection from those trying to be decent humans while allowing shitty humans to be as shitty as they want, leads me to my biggest problem with this play. I am tired of hearing that liberals may be the problem, or that we are the ones who have to try harder to connect with republicans/Trumplethinskin supporters and try to see things from their perspectives, to try to get out of our bubbles and understand the other side. BULLSHIT. No one ever asks Fox News viewers to get out of their bubbles, and their bubbles aren’t even escapable; they are made of cement. No one ever asks the people who think that black people all get free college or that jews control all the money and the government or that homosexuality is god’s punishment for women in the workplace or that killing refugee babies brings them closer to Jesus to even take a peek outside their fucked up bubbles. No, it’s always the people who give a shit about decency for all humans that are told it’s our responsibility to understand why these people hate minorities and women and can’t think rationally about anything. I am goddamn sick of it. It doesn’t make you shrewd or sensible to again ask ‘but maybe it’s liberals who are the problem’ and not ‘but maybe conservatives are literally destroying the world with their ignorance and hate?’ It makes you lazy, irresponsible, and negligent at best. I still cannot believe that this seminal, first major play about Fuckface Von Clownstick is offering these same tired excuses. And that’s my main problem with it.
Also three hours thinking about the Tangerine Tornado is absurd.
INFORMATION
Honestly, the worst part wasn’t the general disappointment or the revulsion at having to think about Toilet Emoji President for three hours. It was the cigarette smoke that overwhelmed the theatre. We saw up in the circle, which you have to enter from a different door from street level. Those doors are open during preshow and the interval, and asshats are literally smoking in the doorways, and asshat staff are doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to keep them away from the entrances. So their asshat smoke wafted clear up the stairs and into the entire circle, so badly that I had trouble breathing at times, and I don’t even have asthma. Preshow, they did the same for the general entrance and the lobby. DO BETTER.
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Ralph Fiennes in Shakespeare’s Antony & Cleopatra: Is this History? Because it’s Nuts
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Antony & Cleopatra, at London’s National Theatre until January 19.
Does anyone else always forget that Billy Shakes wrote plays about historical figures that weren’t kings of England? Well, I honestly forgot that Shakespeare wrote a play about Mark Antony and Cleopatra and their weird manipulative love that drove Rome to war and them to their deaths. I was too busy reading the fun ones. But despite my ignorance of this play, and despite the fact that this production of Antony & Cleopatra clocks in at 3 ½ hours with only one intermission (whereas The Inheritance Part 1 is (10 minutes) shorter and has two), we had to see the big f-ing thing because it stars RALPH FIENNES! That’s pronounced ‘rafe’, to rhyme with ‘the English paaaaaaaaatient’, which if you are like me you hear Billy Crystal singing every time anyone mentions Ralph Fiennes. Seeing him onstage for hours, let’s just say I sang this Oscar opening number (in my head) a whole heck of a lot. Anyway, with Ralph playing Mark Antony, and with Tony-winner Sophie Okonedo as Cleopatra, this production seemed like a must-see. Turns out, it’s more of a ‘see if you have the time but don’t run or risk injury getting there’ kinda thing.
Does anyone else always forget that Billy Shakes wrote plays about historical figures that weren’t kings of England? Well, I honestly forgot that Shakespeare wrote a play about Mark Antony and Cleopatra and their weird manipulative love that drove Rome to war and them to their deaths. I was too busy reading the fun ones. But despite my ignorance of this play, and despite the fact that this production of Antony & Cleopatra clocks in at 3 ½ hours with only one intermission (whereas The Inheritance Part 1 is (10 minutes) shorter and has two), we had to see the big f-ing thing because it stars RALPH FIENNES! That’s pronounced ‘rafe’, to rhyme with ‘the English paaaaaaaaatient’, which if you are like me you hear Billy Crystal singing every time anyone mentions Ralph Fiennes. Seeing him onstage for hours, let’s just say I sang this Oscar opening number (in my head) a whole heck of a lot. Anyway, with Ralph playing Mark Antony, and with Tony-winner Sophie Okonedo as Cleopatra, this production seemed like a must-see. Turns out, it’s more of a ‘see if you have the time but don’t run or risk injury getting there’ kinda thing.
You may think you know all there is to know about Cleopatra because of what, the Liz Taylor movie? Did you know that Julius Caesar was her second husband, and after she died, she had a whoooole thing with Mark Antony, who became ruler of Rome after he and his friends killed Caesar’s assassins? Man alive how OLD were these people? and isn’t it weird for Cleo to be like ‘erma erma you killed the guys who killed my love, so now I love you!’ it’s weird. Anyway we’ll get into the plot. It was worth the trip to see Ralph and Sophie, who are individually great but together they are mmm not so great. If early viewers of the Moulin Rouge! musical are to be believed, Ralph and Sophie are the Shakespeare equivalent of Aaron Tveit and Karen Olivo: Each does a great job, and you can’t think of who you’d replace, but the show would be better if one of them were replaced because together they have zeeeero chemistry. It’s like that. Actually it’s not because I’d replace Ralph as much as I love him. Sophie as Cleopatra is the fireball emoji. I needed a little bit of time to warm up to Sophie’s performance, but after that she was astounding – histrionic and unstable but captivating. Ralph seems miscast as her lover, because Cleopatra and Antony should be fiery, and if they don’t have serious chemistry, what on earth are they risking the future of the republic and of Egypt for? I mean he had more chemistry with Jennifer Lopez in “Maid in Manhattan”. Honestly, I thought at first that it was about their age difference, with Ralph too old to be all lusty with the younger Okonedo, whom I assumed was in her 30s even though she was nominated for an Oscar for Hotel Rwanda and that was like decades ago. Um, she is FIFTY! And he is 56. So they are like the same age. Damn, Sophie, r u magicked? But even though they are IRL about the same age, they didn’t seem it and they just didn’t vibe together.
Oh by the way Ralph’s real name is Ralph Nathaniel Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes.
So this play takes place after Julius Caesar is assassinated and his assassins are killed. It would be fun for you to read Billy’s Julius Caesar first and then see this! Remember how much we loved that? (Probably my best review ever.) Mark Antony rules Rome as part of the triumvirate, or three-men-ate, instituted after Caesar’s death, so he is in power alongside Lepidus (who isn’t really important; I think he was tired and was napping) and Octavius. They sometimes call him Octavius, and sometimes Caesar (Julius Caesar was his great-uncle and he is his adopted son and heir, not that they tell you this in the play), but never the most well known of his names: Augustus, as in the first emperor of Rome. Women in the bathroom line thought that it was regular Caesar, not knowing there were several people who used that name. Ugh! Not saying we should cater to idiots but wouldn’t things have been clearer calling him Augustus? I guess it gives away the ending but can you spoil ancient history?
Anyway the triumvirate is ruling Rome and taking names but they’re pissed at Mark Antony because he is shirking his duties and living in up in Egypt with his lover Cleopatra, and transforming in his men’s opinions into a ‘strumpet’s fool’. Rude. We meet Cleopatra’s entourage and see how she seems fun but is terrifying too, and we see Antony completely immersed in resort life, wearing loose linen pants and shirts that show too much chest hair. Cleopatra and Antony make funny jokes about how much his wife Fulvia sucks, and it’s so funny, but then news arrives that Fulvia has died, and so they make more jokes about how great that is! Mah wife! She dead! They don’t come across as the most sympathetic of characters (not that anyone thought they would be).
Antony is happily drunk and swimming all day in the sun, but Octavius, tired of his nonsense, calls him back to Rome because their thrupledom is threatened by pirates, and not the fun Johnny Depp kind. In an attempt to heal the rift between the two leaders, Octavius’s general Agrippa (played by a woman who spoke in a really annoying way, I’m sorry) suggests that Antony, newly single heyoooo, marry Octavius’s sister Octavia, who is quiet and blonde, so, perfect. I like that they gave Antony literally a hot minute to mourn before marrying this old fart off onto a young lady whose parents were not too creative with the names. But Antony and Octavius shake hands at their amazing negotiation of the female property and all seems to be well. Except Antony’s right hand man Enobarbus (now his parents were creative) notes that this prim blonde lady will not be enough for Antony since he loves the wildly, mm, interesting Cleopatra. Enobarbus proclaims “other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where most she satisfies”, which sounds dirty. Cleopatra hears of the marriage and blames the messenger for the news, which is like exactly what Shakespeare told you NOT to do. That’s Billy’s Rule #1! But everyone assures her that Octavia is unattractive and boring and, most importantly, short, which Sophie’s Cleopatra uses to hilarious effect in the one scene that made me laugh out loud.
Antony and Octavius go to one of the pirates on his SUBMARINE (more on that below) and they make a truce, and then they all have a raucous drunken party which is my nightmare to even watch, and people play loud drums and you’re like how many hours of this until the interval’, but then after they leave, Octavius and Lepidus decide to break the truce and wage war against the submarine pirate. Antony is not happy, and it does seem like kind of a dick move. So thus begins the war between Antony and Octavius. Cleopatra ‘helps’ Antony, but then they just flee and leave all his troops to die, which is also a dick move. No one in this play comes off too well.
So, A and C are back in Egypt trying to live large while war is coming, and they are sooo toxic together. They may love each other but they also seem to really hate each other and use their love as weapons. It’s not cute for them. The night before a big battle on land, Enobarbus deserts Antony and joins forces with Octavius, for reasons incredibly unclear. This production tried to make it look like he was having a thang with Agrippa, since here she was a woman, but it’s not supported by the text that he would have done it for her so like, why. Antony loses the battle and, like a typical white man burdened with superfragile masculinity, he blames Cleopatra. “This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me!” he shouts, because it’s easier for him/men to condemn women than take responsibility for being shitty and losing battles. He announces he will kill her (still so typical, ya basic), so Cleopatra breaks Shakespeare Rule #2 and decides to fake her own death to make him love her again. Then she’ll pull a Ross at his funeral and come out of the bedroom and be like “I knew you loved me! I’m still alive!” Basic. Of course, Antony hears that she is dead and decides to kill himself, but he’s an asshole so he orders his soldier to do it. The soldier is so upset by this that the soldier decides to kill himself instead, and Antony is like wow what a brave kid I just led to suicide, I should be that brave, oh me, and so he tries to kill himself but it doesn’t take right away. Cleopatra eventually does her famous snake dance in her monument, but not before she kisses one of her ladies in waiting who *dies immediately*, from lesbianism???
Needless to say, there’s some real plot going on. Sure most of Shakespeare’s histories are masterpieces, but is this? I hate everyone in it. And it’s weird to see so much liberty taken with facts. And it was extra weird in that regard to see most of the cast in modern garb in a directorial attempt to make the story relevant to today, when it’s freaking about CLEOPATRA. I’m cool with placing older works in different locations and/or eras, but I always find it strange to do that when the characters are based on real historical figures. Like they didn’t have machine guns in the Battle of Actium, guys. But the modern look did allow for the two best parts of this production: Sophie’s costumes and the set design. The rest of the cast’s costumes overall were just fine, so it seemed clear that all the money and creative vision was spent on draping Cleopatra in the most gorgeous clothes onstage this year, and it paid off. Man alive were they amazing! I really wanted to shout WHAT YASSS every time she entered a scene in a new incredible flowing satin gown with built-in cape. She had so many built-in capes! Who is she, David Rose???
But the most amazing part of the show was the set. Cleopatra’s palace was shown from the back where they lounged around a gorgeous three-section pool, filled with water that various cast members fell into at times (on purpose!). It looked like a fancy hotel in Morocco or something, beautifully tiled and glittering in the light. I think I actually gasped when that set miraculously fell under the cavernous stage and up from the underground came an enormous submarine. And I mean freaking enormous. Where are they storing these massive sets! I can’t fathom the engineering genius that allows for the rapid transition between these truly magnificent pieces. Cleopatra’s triangular monument was also impressively built, and the lighting along with it really nailed Egypt’s brutal sun. I was less enthused about the various triumvirs offices, made to look like modern government offices with a hint of evil billionaire lairs, but that’s mostly due to my aversion to the modernization of the piece in that regard. It’s weird seeing Octavius Caesar do his government work in a room that looks like it has the buttons for an evil billionaire’s illegal nukes while we watch multiple screens there just for their own sake.
So, yeah, the story is not put forth as compellingly as the visuals, sadly, and I found myself wishing the performances and plot could match the incredible magic of the set. But it was great to see Sophie and Ralph live (that’s long-i ‘live’ like in person; they die) and I’m truly obsessed with the set design, so all in all it was worth seeing.
INFORMATION
The program is ATROCIOUS. Actors have headshots for a reason! Use them! What kind of program doesn’t have the pictures and names next to each other? I’m so mad, and as I learned from the show, I should blame a woman for this.
The National Theatre continues to boggle the mind re its staffing decisions. No ushers or managers or staff of any sort can be found at any level of the theatre, outside the main entrance (what, 8 flights of stairs down?) and outside of bartenders, who are too swamped to deal with non-alcohol related questions. It’s really despicable, that if you have someone recording the show – or someone who needs medical attention – there’s no one to be found. They almost deserve to have their show recorded.
One Jewish Boy at Trafalgar Studios is Incisive, Upsetting, & Too Relevant
Honestly, forking finally. Stephen Laughton’s One Jewish Boy is the Jewish representation London’s theatre scene has been not only severely lacking but opening mocking the need for. A four-hander (that’s right) telling the story of a couple – one Jewish boy and one mixed race girl – over their 15-year relationship, Laughton’s work is like all our (the chosen our) anxieties about identity and prejudice in anti-Semitic England and the world at large distilled into an hour and a half of excellent, inventive, heartbreaking story-telling.
One Jewish Boy shares the relationship of Jesse and Alex and how anti-Semitism (and specifically its effect on the titular boy) affects their happiness. The storytelling jumps around through time to show Jesse and Alex at different points, from the day she serves him with divorce papers to the day they first meet, from their wedding day to the day he proposes, the day they decide to have a baby, in seemingly random but ultimately poignant order. The key flashback is glimpsed multiple times but never fully shown: a 2013 attack that left Jesse hospitalized. He was beaten on the street for being Jewish, as his white supremacist attackers shouted things about Hitler and gassing (lines that are played several times on the speaker system, definitely necessitating more of a trigger warning than I saw anywhere). Jesse rightly deems this a hate crime, and understandably suffers a sort of PTSD for years and years to come, as this realization of how much hate exists threatens his ability to live fully and without constant fear, for him and his son and his community. Alex thinks he should get over it.
Now I said that a little flippantly, and Alex does give him time (although the anti-therapy vibe is so very British and so very infuriating (and accurate)), but ultimately she cannot abide his inability to get over it. Even though it’s impossible not to be haunted by that sort of trauma, she sees a line where that crosses into debilitating preoccupation. And this is one of the several incredibly difficult and heavy ideas that this play handles so well. Even though I tended to side with Jesse, you see where Alex is coming from, regarding this and all their problems. Alex wants Jesse to stop letting his attack define how he sees the world. As someone who is mixed race, she definitely has experience with racism and with coping with it, and her view is valid. (Although it’s kind of ridiculous to ask a Jew to stop being anxious, like is she new.)
Where the play excels is in presenting these significant issues in a provocative way, where even if you side with one of them, you understand both and there’s no clear answer. The content is difficult because it’s so relevant, for really all young people trying to navigate a world of more blatant racism as well as longstanding cultural differences with the people in their lives. Laughton touches on incredibly important concepts like inherited trauma (done so well on season 2 of Transparent, btw), circumcision, and even who to vote for. (I appreciated the very new bits about Labour and Corbyn’s anti-Semitism in the recent general, since people are still blaming Jews for his loss and I could go on a big long rant as I have before about how Jews are really the only group to be blamed for not happily supporting people who have clearly shown to be against them but I won’t do that right now.)
A lot of the content is distressing and leaves you with a “well, fuck” kind of sigh, so the amount of laughter throughout is pretty remarkable. That’s due to the writing (some of the jokes, my god, RightMove is the Tindr for married people?? THAT IS TRUE) as well as the superb performances. Robert Neumark-Jones makes his Jesse open and vulnerable and deeply felt while also remaining likeable even when he’s being a dick, driving Alex, a vibrant Asha Reid, crazy in the good and bad senses of the word. It seemed obvious to me that in the sort of battle where no one is right or wrong, Jesse was clearly not wrong, but it could be that I identified with and understood him more for the obvious reasons. Or maybe I side so strongly with Jesse because he liked to stay home and Alex seemed like a ‘fun girl’ who likes to go out, yeesh. But they both feel so authentic and so connected to each other’s performances, making their characters’ fundamental differences all the sadder.
The only thing I actively disliked was putting forward as fact, through Jesse’s statements, the dangerous idea that white Jews are not white. This is an ugly battle that Jews face, and to give in to the idea that Jewish is a race and not a religious or cultural identity plays into and gives ammunition to the ever-increasing othering. It wasn’t clear if this was a statement being made by the author or a nuanced way to show that Jesse was going over the top with his obsession about the world rejecting him, but even if it was the latter I don’t think it will be clear to many theatergoers, who might think ‘oh I guess white Jews aren’t white’ (and London audiences are traditionally mmm not the best at getting nuance with these sorts of issues; see e.g. every single other review of mine).
Aside from that, One Jewish Boy is an exceptionally discerning and sensitive play, with sharp writing and strong performances. It’s a must-see for anyone who cares about society’s prejudice and racism and rising hate, which should be everyone.
INFORMATION
One Jewish Boy is playing at Trafalgar Studios 2, the small studio, until April 4. Studio 2 is on the bottom level, the same as the bar, with one 4-stall ladies room next to the bar. There are no bad seats as it’s a small square, but I had the best seat in the history of theatre and I’m super thankful – right next to the door. Also it was 20 minutes shorter than I anticipated so I was OKAY (shout out to Greg Serrano (you know what I mean)).
There is some smoking, not to much but amplified by the tiny unventilated room, which got a little rough for me but most people should be fine. If you’re in the front row you will get vaped in the face.
