Tree at the Young Vic: A Maddening Take on Theatreby Randi / August 15, 2019It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about a theatre documentary film that will be in select theatres tomorrow, August 23.
Few musicals have the staying power and continued resonance of Fiddler on the Roof, the 1964 musical about Tevye the poor milkman, his wife Golde, their five daughters, and their struggles as Jews in their tiny village of Anatevka at the turn of the century. After all these years, it’s hard to imagine a world without this miraculous piece of theatre, and the new documentary Fiddler: A Miracle of Miracles, from director Max Lewkowicz, shows us how fortunate we are that all the pieces came together as they did. The amount of jaw-dropping names that appear throughout the doc exuding praise over this classic musical is endlessly entertaining. Featuring interviews with composers Sheldon Harnick and Jerry Bock, book writer Joseph Stein, producer Hal Prince (to whom the film is dedicated; he died just a few weeks ago), and tons of actors, writers, experts on cultural studies, journalists, and family members of the creative team, this Fiddler does the unthinkable and makes the musical even more special.
Interspersing footage of various productions, the classic film version, and even footage of Aleichem’s silent films with interviews, the doc provides interesting historical context and testimony as to why it’s such a lasting show. Joel Grey, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Harvey Fierstein, Fran Leibovitz, Itzhak Perlman, and endless amazing historians and writers share worthy thoughts on what makes Fiddler still resonate.
Everyone today loves Fiddler, and for dern good reason, but it opened to surprisingly bad reviews. Variety even wrote that there were no memorable songs, a statement that is beyond ludicrous for a show without a single weak moment and a widely known and widely loved score (okay except for “Now I Have Everything”). But it took a lot of hard work to create the final masterpiece, as Harnick, Bock, Prince, the original actors, and their relatives and those of Jerome Robbins share. H&B got the idea to write a show inspired by Russian-Yiddish author Sholem Aleichem’s short stories, narrowing their idea down to the story of Tevye the milkman and his daughters in turn of the century czarist Russia. They faced a lot of obstacles in the early days from people who, rightly so, heard this idea and went, ‘are you crazy?’ Who would see a musical based on such a niche story that will likely be super depressing? But this genius team turned this depressing, niche story into one that’s as heartwarming as it is heartbreaking, and one of the most relatable pieces in the canon, since at any time in history, people have been oppressed. One of the best stories is when during intermission of a Japanese production, an actor asked if Americans actually enjoy the show since “it’s so Japanese.”
I could talk forever about how wonderful this documentary and Fiddler itself are, but Ima let you discover some things for yourself because I hope you are seeing it, if you are near a theatre playing it. However, I do want to share a few of my favorite discoveries with you.
A few things I learned from the Fiddler Documentary
The idiot defense attorney from My Cousin Vinny was Broadway’s original Motel the Tailor
Now look, I’m not reducing Austin Pendleton’s stellar theatre career in calling him the bad lawyer from MCV; I just never realized that that was him until I was watching this doc, okay? I wish I could have seen him in this role!
There’s a Sholem Aleichem statue in Kiev.
Oops.
I don’t think I love any move more than Danny Burstein’s Tevye Shimmy
If you read my review of the 2016 Broadway revival of Fiddler, then you know how I feel about Danny Burstein’s Tevye and, above all, Tevye’s Lil Shimmy. With a solid amount of footage from this production interspersed throughout, we get to see a few of his positively delightful shimmies and I couldn’t be happier. (I put a clip of what I’m talking about in my instagram stories today, and it will be saved in the 2019 Theatre highlights so you can enjoy the Burstein Shimmy FOREVER.)
Jerome Robbins and Zero Mostel were not BFF
Although an undeniable genius, Jerry Robbins was extremely difficult to work with, and Zero was not a fan. During Joe McCarthy’s (more like McCunther (“that cunther made a list???”)) Senate hearings for Trying To Find Commies and Destroy Careers, Robbins named names, like the one thing you were not supposed to do if you wanted to still be considered Not An Asshole. But as always, it’s not as simple as that. McCunther S. Prick and his cronies threatened to out Robbins as a gay man if he didn’t cooperate, and back then that would have been a serious problem. They say he always regretted it afterwards, which like of course, but it wasn’t exactly a black-and-white situation. He was still an asshole to actors and others on set though, and no amount of genius can excuse that away, but he was a g-d genius.
The original Tradition lyrics were hilarious
Luckily, H&B perfected everything before the show was frozen, but we saw an early CBS television appearance of theirs in which they sang a song to the tune of what would later become “Tradition”: “There’s noodles to be made, and chickens to be plucked, and liver to be chopped and challah to be baked.” It’s a good change, it’s a goood change.
Every character has a name – like every character
Despite my assumption that my ensemble role in high school was just ‘one of the village daughters’, she had a specific name. In the original rehearsals, Jerry Robbins named every ensemble character and treated them all as integral parts of this show. So there’s a good chance I was actually playing Anya or Rivka, to name two I saw when they showed his original sketches, which is prettay prettay cool.
Jerry Bock says ‘ambience’ so amazingly
Not really a thing just wanted to remember how cute it is for him.
Yiddish Fiddler includes the best line ever
Currently in New York there is a Joel-Grey directed production of Fiddler being performed entirely in Yiddish, and receiving critical acclaim. The doc shows a snippet of the recording session for its album, in which Steven Skybell sings the Yiddish version of “If I Were a Rich Man”. The subtitles show us that these lyrics include just the best thing ever to exclaim probably at any point in your life: “Jews, I laid an egg!”
Marc Chagall’s work inspired the title and thematic elements of Fiddler
You know the Chagall painting with the violinist in a purple coat floating between two rooftops? Well helloooo, that’s the fiddler on the roof! Chagall’s work inspired the creators in establishing that central thematic element of the difficulty of finding balance between tradition and progress in a changing world, balancing like a fiddler on the roof. The Fiddler in the movie version is even wearing a purple coat. After learning more about Chagall in the show The Flying Lovers of Vitebsk, I imagine Chagall would have loved this show and the homage it pays to the plight of Jews in Russia during this era.
There’s so much information and emotion jam-packed into this beautiful film and I want to rave about all of it (like, did you know The Temptations covered “Rich Man”? It’s so fun) but definitely go see for yourself. And if you have to wait longer until it comes to your town or for it to be available for purchase, spend that time listening to one of the many great cast recordings. Or better yet, go see a local production. Chances are you’re near one, whether a regional theatre or a middle school, because the most heartwarming, unbelievable fact shared in the film is that, since debuting in 1964, a production of Fiddler has been performed somewhere in the world every single day, a fact that proves just how incredible and indelible this musical’s mark is on the world.
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A Day in the Death of Joe Egg at Trafalgar Studios: Faaaaak.
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is A Day in the Death of Joe Egg, which opened at Trafalgar Studios in London last night.
It’s a shame that Trafalgar Studios and the Old Vic haven’t teamed up and then joined with anti-population environmentalists to present a special double bill of Lungs and A Day in the Death of Joe Egg. The former, coming to the Old Vic this month, presents the story of a modern-day couple deliberating the ethical implication of having kids when the world is burning down. (So, me and all my friends. So much for theatre as escapism.) Joe Egg is the Part 2 of Terrible Things to Worry About: what happens if you decide to have kids and they aren’t born healthy, every parent’s worst fear. Joe Egg, the 1967 play by Peter Nichols – who died two weeks before previews of this production started, confirming the whole ‘this is the darkest timeline’ vibe (RIP (ok that makes me sound very cold but he was 92 so like really well done, Peter, amazing life)) – concerns a couple whose 15-year-old daughter Josephine was born, in the words of one of their many shitty doctors, a ‘wegetable’.
It’s touted as a dark comedy, Joe Egg is, by people who have sick sense of humor, I guess, or by people who haven’t yet seen this heavy, depressing production. The ‘depressing’ I think is unavoidable in a play about the strain a disabled child has on a couple’s marriage, but the ‘heavy’ is due to this production and director (Simon Evans) not yet nailing the pacing. While the first act is somewhat slow, it’s compelling due to the strength of the interplay between the couple. When more actors show up in Act II, actors who have less command of their purpose and the tone they should be going for, the play loses some of its power.
And that command the first act has is commendable, considering having characters explain things directly to the audience is my least favorite theatre format (but at least this one does it better than the overrated Lehman Trilogy). Claire Skinner and Toby Stephens, as the couple Sheila and Brian, completely made me forget that they were actors, I was so invested in their struggles, so upset by their situation, so angered at the doctors’ screw-ups they recounted. It was heartbreaking to watch Sheila struggle with remnants of unmerited guilt, thinking that any part of it could be her fault. (And a great reminder not to have a home birth unless you have incredibly strong people present who would advocate for you.) If the show remained a two-hander, I think it would have been better off. (Sorry to husbo, who hates the phrase two-hander and for dern good reason — it should be four-hander, if you think about it, unless both actors are missing limbs.)
But the best thing to come from this show is the casting of Storme Toolis (WHAT A NAME) as Josephine. Toolis has cerebral palsy, and – if you can believe it – is the first disabled (I’m sorry if I’m using terrible language; please tell me if there are terms I should be using instead but this is what I’ve seen in other pubs) actor to EVER play the title role on the West End. This means they’ve had able-bodied actors drool and have their heads hanging off the side of their wheelchair and mutter some gibberish, pretending to be disabled, which seems…gross. And this important casting is largely due to Toolis’s own work as an activist for disabled actors, as she has vocally campaigned for the somehow revolutionary idea that disabled parts should be played by disabled actors.
And likewise, the play feels important, but in a manner where it’s hard to grasp what it’s trying to say besides the last word in my headline. It’s just…so f-ing sad for everyone involved. (Well not for Pam and Freddie (the Act II interlopers); those jackwagons can go eat a bag o’ dicks.) Aside from a few funny lines, I’m not sure how it could be described as a comedy. It’s super depressing. There are several points where you fully believe Josephine has died. And when the biggest questions raised by the drama are whether her father could go through with causing her death, and what that kind of mindset could do to his marriage – and what this situation in general has done to it – I don’t know what’s supposed to be funny. It’s just really, really sad. Provocative and worth this dramatic treatment, but sad.
INFORMATION
Honestly considering the age range (old to very old) it was a good audience.
The theatre needs a huge redo, though. Trafalgar Studios might be the worst theatre in London. Whoever designed the toilets should be tried at The Hague. You can’t get to the stalls if someone is washing their hands, there’s just no room. And in the classic London bathroom tradition, you can’t open the stall door to leave the stall unless you pretty much stand in the toilet. HOW DID SOMEONE GET PAID TO DESIGN THIS?
In the theatre itself it’s no picnic either. The seats don’t have armrests, so if you are sitting next to a stranger or two, you spend the entire show trying to shrink your shoulder width so that you aren’t pressing into each other. NOT VERY FUN.
This show also joins in on my least favorite trend of London theatre – having characters smoke. There’s a lot of herbal cigarette use, which is warned about yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s justified. I’ve seen at least two dozen shows in the past year with characters smoking onstage, and it has never once added anything to the production, except carcinogens for audience members and cast alike. STOP DOING THIS. I don’t understand how it’s still legal.
One thing that is not warned about – there is a toy gun that looks very real, and at one point an actor points and shoots it into the audience, so if that is the sort of thing that bothers you/if you are American, be warned.
The show is 2 hours 30 minutes, with the first act running 1 hour and the second act longer (which is usually a sign that the second act should have been trimmed).
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.
