It's Yucatanfastic: Merida, Uxmal, Mexican Chocolate, & More Cenotesby Randi / September 3, 2019It’s Theatre Thursday! We’re celebrating a FANTASTIC week of theatre-going by looking at not one, not two, but THREE great-to-fantastic shows…that all sadly closed on Saturday. However, they’re all established shows that we should see future productions of fairly soon.
H.M.S. Pinafore at Wilton’s Music Hall
Whenever a Gilbert & Sullivan classic comes to Wilton’s Music Hall, we’re there. Well, whenever anything comes to Wilton’s we’re there, because they’re our neighbors. Hey neighbors! But their G&S productions are without fail hysterical, in a way that really lets the comic masterpieces shine. Thanks to the Opera Della Luna company, the recent H.M.S. Pinafore continued the trend, with their game cast showing off their perfect comedic timing.
With an ensemble of just 8 players, many changing in and out of several roles, Opera Della Luna energetically tells the tale of the poor sailor in love with the captain’s daughter, the captain’s daughter who loves him back but is promised to an admiral, the absurdly funny captain who never (well, hardly ever) uses bad language, and all the confusion and hilarity that abounds aboard the ship.
For those of you unfamiliar with the 1878 comic opera, it takes place on a docked British warship. An older woman named Buttercup comes on board to sell some ‘wares’ which no matter what the context or show or painting always looks like a basket full of ribbon, which is like, not what I’d expect sailors to need on board. Ralph Rackstraw, a sailor in the fleet, comes on deck and pretends to buy from Buttercup and then doesn’t, which as someone who ran a vegan bakery stall on Brick Lane for six months I can tell you is really shitty behavior. Nothing more frustrating. Anyway Ralph is like ‘no I don’t need ribbon but I LOVEEEE JOSEPHINEEEE’ who is the captain’s lovely daughter (with the best voice in the cast). The other sailors are like ‘avast ye matey, she’s the captain’s daughter so she can’t be with you.’ And then the captain, Captain Corcoran, comes on deck and sings his famous song about how he ‘hardly ever’ does a bunch of stuff and is HILARIOUS and I wish that I could find the name of the actor from the ODL website but it’s incredibly confusing and I think only has the 2000-era cast lists for this show up because I googled the names and they don’t look like who I need the name of, guys, so please tell whoever plays Corcoran how great he is.
The captain talks to the old lady Buttercup and they def have some history or future or something going on, but there’s no time for that because the Admiral that Josephine’s set to marry comes aboard (never seen so much coming and going on a ship) with his sister, his cousin, and his aunt and he sings a forking hilarious song introducing himself and his sister, his cousin, and his aunt. The Admiral is a bumbling fool who despite being in a very high position in the Queen’s Navee knows nothing about the sea or sailing, like most men in power. He also thinks the Captain should say ‘if you please’ to his sailors whenever giving orders. The Admiral and the Captain are comedic gold and definitely the standouts here, although they do have the two best roles.
After the Admiral, Sir Joseph, sings about how British sailors are any man’s equal – except, of course, his own – Ralph is buoyed by the thought and confesses his love to Josephine. She loves him back, but knows her duty is to marry the goofy old man so JUST LIKE NIKKI K HIGH-KICKING IT DOWN AT THE MOULIN ROUGE, she pretends not to love Ralph back which is like RULE #1 of farcey romcoms and lies IN ORDER TO SAVE HIM. HURT HIM, TO SAVE HIM, as the wise and scary Jim Broadbent told Nikki K before she didn’t win the Oscar she should have won.
Ralph threatens to kill himself due to his broken heart and his shipmates are like ‘eh them’s the breaks matey’, surprisingly cool with the very bad plan, but the luckily Josephine enters again and sees him and is like NO DON’T I LOVE YOU, and while I’m sure there are examples of this very shitty plot device in older works, for now I’m going to blame Pinafore for giving weak misogynists this ploy in their arsenal, that if a pretty woman doesn’t love them they should threaten to kill themselves so they know it’s ‘their fault if they die’ which is SOME REAL MISOGYNIST GASLIGHTY BULLSHIT.
My only real complaint with the story though; the rest is so fun and ridiculous.
In Act II, Sir Joseph complains to the captain that Josephine hasn’t officially accepted his proposal yet and he’s like wahhhh just make your teenage daughter marry my old ass alreadyyyyy, and the Captain suggests that maybe she’s overwhelmed by his lofty rank and feels he’s too far above her. Sir Joseph says pish posh and sings a song arguing that love ‘levels all ranks’, which he doesn’t realize, of course, is arguing that Josephine and Ralph should be able to marry despite their different ranks. DRAMATIC IRONY.
Josephine and Ralph plan to leave the ship and elope but the Captain catches them and is unmoved by their protestations of love, saying – historically noteworthy because omg he said like the worst word ever uttered on stage at that time – “why damn, it’s too bad!” I KNOW! bad. Sir Joseph is horrified by the bad language and confines the Captain to his quarters. Sir Joseph asks the crew what happened to make the Captain CURSE SO BAD, Ralph spills the beans about him and Josephine, which Sir Joseph does NOT like, and so he orders Ralph to be loaded with chains and taken to the brig, which is shipcute for jail! We definitely need a completely random deus ex machina to save Ralph from this fate right about now guys! Oh good, here comes one in the form of a revelation from random lady Buttercup: She steps forward and reveals to the crew that many years ago, she practiced BABY FARMING, and she cared for two babies, one of low birth, one upper-class, and she mixed the babies up. OKAY IT SOUNDS LIKE A WAR CRIME, this baby farming, but what of this now? Well the two babies – are you ready – were RALPH AND THE CAPTAIN. So CLEARLY the big revelation is supposed to be ‘oh wow, Ralph is actually of noble birth and the Captain is the lowly one, so their troubles with the whole marriage issue are over if Ralph chooses!’ but the real revelation is HOT FUCK RALPH IS THE SAME AGE AS THE *FATHER* OF THE WOMAN HE LOVES OMG THAT IS GROSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. So Ralph is like 20 years older give or take the era-appropriate standard deviation than the girl he loves?? Blech. Josephine RUN/swim.
So instead of like taking a beat and realizing how stupid the whole idea of noble blood is and how they’ve lived in the ‘wrong’ lives long enough to prove that, instead RALPH AND THE CAPTAIN SWITCH POSITIONS. Ralph literally puts on Corcoran’s uniform, says “I’M THE CAPTAIN NOW”, and Corcoran becomes a lowly sailor. WAT. Didn’t the captain earn his captaincy? Like wtf. Obviously, Josephine, the daughter of a sailor, is now too low for the Admiral to marry, so she and Ralph are cleared for takeoff despite their truly gross age difference. And now, since Corcoran is a lowly sailor, he can up and marry…Buttercup! LIKE WTF. SHE JUST RUINED YOUR LIFE. And why did it take her so long to share? What an asshole!
Anyway it was amazing.
Dogfight and Once on this Island at the Southwark Playhouse
If anyone, for whatever bad reason, was worrying about the future talent pool in Britain, there’s no need to worry. The British Theatre Academy’s two fantastic youth productions that played the Southwark Theatre in August were both brimming with impressive young talent, up to the task of handling two challenging – and two of my all-time favorite – shows. We all know how overprotective I can be of things that are my faves, and how attached I am to past great productions. My review of the recent Broadway revivial of Once on this Island is pretty much me saying OMG OMG OMG THIS IS AMAZING OMG OMG OMG OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW MAGICAL IT’S AMAZING MAGIC for like 4 pages.
But despite my high standards for my (not mine) truly beloved show, the BTA yoots blew me away. Despite the smaller space, budget, experience level, everything, the yoots put on a show that was just as magical and moving and TRIUMPHANT as I could have hoped. Lee Proud’s clever direction captured all the thrills that elevate the story, from the Ti Moune switch (which never fails to make me sob, even when I’m just listening to the cast recording and know it’s that part) to the charming representation of the chirping birds. His equally fantastic choreography brought to mind the greatest parts of Camille A. Brown’s work on Broadway (which should have won the Tony), with powerful and vigorous ensemble dance numbers the most compelling and exciting.
What was done with this small space and barely any props or set truly begs for another longer run, or a transfer. Since I saw the Broadway revival, I’ve read the infamous words of Brandon Victor Dixon condemning this show, and I was prepared to see what he meant regarding the issues in the story, now that I was enlightened. But such a lovely, blissful production made it hard to agree with him. And sure, as a white person I’m not the person to comment on whether the show’s attempt to comment on issues of race fail and it becomes itself racist. But the audience, filled with people of all backgrounds, all jumped to their feet at the end faster than I’ve ever seen, weeping and cheering. It’s hard to find fault with a show that does that.
And that ensemble, man alive, the talent on display was so uplifting. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives (especially my favorite boy ensemblist who was just SO young and SO happy, and I was just so happy for him) and that kind of joy was infectious. The standout performer for me, who as a casting agent I’d be keeping an eye on, was Aviva Tulley, who played the goddess of love Erzulie. Her natural ease and grace suggested a performer of much more experience. Others in the cast, like Ti Moune (the very talented Chrissie Bhime) and Euralie, will need to work on melting into their characters more and not obviously Acting, but for a youth ensemble they’re all ahead of where you’d expect.
We found it really interesting that both our Ti Moune and our Rose, in Dogfight, both frequently tended to speak the ends of sung lyrics for emphasis instead of acting through their singing, which is definitely one key technique to work on. But like our Ti Moune, our Rose (the roles are double cast and nowhere in the programme or theatre was our show’s cast listed, which is a shame, because I’d like to give her her due) was otherwise very impressive. She gave an added nerdy awkwardness to Rose’s self-consciousness that was different from any other production of Dogfight I’ve seen, and it worked. (It reminded both of us of Ben Platt’s Evan Hansen tics.) I was also greatly impressed by our Eddie. With Dogfight, no set is required (and as this one was in the Southwark’s “Little”, the black box room, there was none), but the story needs shrewd and careful direction to sing as it’s meant to. Dean Johnson’s direction definitely let the story land properly, as did the talent. It could be because we were all so close in that tiny room, but I was struck more than ever at how the soldiers’ reprise of their anthem was being sung out of heartbreaking desperation, a need to convince themselves that they were special and that what they were doing was guaranteed to garner them a homecoming parade, because if they stop thinking that for one second, they’ll realize they’re probably going to die. This was so well done, making you feel for the soldiers even though they’ve already established that they’re mostly bad people. And that’s the beauty of Dogfight, telling so effectively a character-driven story that lets you recognize the humanity in people that you might hate, and maybe their ability to change, which felt incredibly relevant in today’s culture.
Hopefully another production, or another run of these productions, will be coming to London again soon, because it was quite wonderful to see such strong work.
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Isabella Rossellini and Her Dog in Link Link Circus
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about Isabella Rossellini’s Link Link Circus, which played at London’s Southbank Centre this week.
Isabella Rossellini is wacky. Like super wacky. We knew this already, from her famous ‘Green Porno’ series of short films, in which she teaches us about the sexual behaviors of various animals and insects, with her in costume (and fully in character) as the mating animals and insects. It’s RIDONK. Super informative and creative, yes, but it’ll make you hella uncomfortable. That series cemented Isabella as an artistic free spirit, unafraid to look like a complete goof in furtherance of her surreally funny work. If you didn’t know this already, seeing her live will confirm oh yeah, she’s quite the innovative actress and also a straight nutter. And she’s AWESOME. Most importantly, her dog is adorable.
Rossellini started performing Link Link Circus earlier this year with a stint in NYC, and she toured various points in Europe before landing in London this week. (The gang was right to tell Ross that she’s ‘too international’.) So a few days ago husbo and I and Stanley Tucci (true story) made our way to Southbank Centre for the first of her shows and learned a bit about animal behavior. Nothing we didn’t already know, really, even though Rossellini has been studying for a masters in animal behavior. But she skims over the basics: Skinner, Aristotle, Descartes, Pavlov. Our star begins at a podium and tells us we are in a sort of theatrical conference, in which we’ll be discussing animal behavior and the various theories on whether they can think and feel (they can btw). Overall, we’re exploring the link between animals and humans, which is why she called it Link Link.
Rossellini, dressed like a ringmaster in a Picasso painting, jumps back and forth between presentation styles during the show, with the help of her assistant, Schuyler Beeman (no relation to Stan). She shares the work of the aforementioned scientists by referring to their cartoon busts on pedestals; she talks about her love for animals; she plays weird short films (including a clip from ‘Green Porno’); she plays home movies showing her various dogs throughout her life (the best part); she uses stuffed animals and children’s toys to talk about the animal kingdom. Beeman, dressed in a beekeeper outfit that’s been painted black, comes on and offstage with various props or sometimes to act as an animal himself, and he’s naturally pretty comedic so it’s always more fun when he’s around. There’s no real clear way to describe what was happening on the stage or what it’s about. The format is akin to her ‘Green Porno’ films – a series of shorts about the same general subject but different in tone and design.
The inconsistent presentation makes the whole show feel disjointed, and its central message or point confused, but it’s a pleasure to watch Isabella. She obviously loves animals (yay) and loves sharing her thoughts about them with the world. More than anything, though, the Circus is a pleasure because of her dog. Her dog is SO FORKING ADORABLE, and honestly I have no regrets about paying $34 (that’s pounddollars) to watch her and Beeman play with the doggo for 75 minutes. My only regret is that I didn’t storm the stage to pet that wittle face myself. Playing Pan, short for Peter Pan, her dog (I think the real name is Darcy?) comes on and off stage (courtesy of Beeman) dressed in adorable costumes (that poor dog) ranging from sheep to chicken to lion and it is wonderful. I was making audible squee noises but you know what, so was everyone. If anyone was doing a social experiment to see if dog lovers would pay money to literally just watch a dog live onstage and not even be able to pet him, the answer is yes. I almost stage doored for the dog but decided that would be weird. I just love dogs guys okay.
Pan the adorable doggo absolutely makes the show (she can roll over SO well), and it’s wonderful to see her get so many treats (I was so happy for her). But even without Pan’s presence, the Circus is a good time. Isabella is a special kind of old-fashioned movie star who has wriggled out of her former role (while dressed as a caterpillar probably) and is creating extraordinarily unique works in a way that no one else at her level of fame or respectability could. Though it’s likely more a question of ‘would.’
INFORMATION
Link Link Circus is playing in Belfast next week. for the rest of you, the entirety of ‘Green Porno’ is on YouTube.
“Venus in Fur” on the West End: It’s Sexual and Violent (Like Game of Thrones!)
Wooot it’s Theatre Thursday y’all! Today’s review is of the new production of “Venus in Fur” in the West End, currently playing at the Theatre Royal Haymarket until December 9.
One of the Broadway shows I most regretted missing was the play “Venus in Fur”, for which the joyous and adorable Nina Arianda won a Tony in 2012 for being the literal opposite of joyous and adorable. David Ives’s play was generally referred to as a dark and twisted psychosexual…comedy? Drama? It is both, and it is neither. And that’s really all I knew about it until I finally saw it last weekend, in the form of the new West End production starring Natalie Dormer (Game of Thrones, Tudors, you all love her) and David Oakes (whom I last saw in Shakespeare in Love, the West End play, as Marlowe). It’s not the kind of show you enjoy while it’s happening, but the kind where you can’t stop trying to figure it out after the fact, which could be the more interesting option.
I love going in to shows (and movies) cold, which is harder and harder to do nowadays with every kind of spoiler and (illegal don’t do it) videos on the internet (and with my willpower to avoid such things being nonexistent). But going in to “Venus in Fur”, all I knew was the above – that it was sexual and violent. Husband and I joked about this literally every time we mentioned the play in the run up to it, because it’s one of the funniest parts of one of our favorite movies. Seriously every conversation: “What do we have next weekend?” “Venus in Fur. It’s sexual and violent.” Or “What time is the show tonight?” “7:30. It’s sexual and violent.”
I’m glad I didn’t know much more, because the twists and turns that the play takes you through are what it’s all about. They weren’t kidding about it being psychosexual – every word of it is carefully calculated to inform the psychology of dominance on display, with the roles of the powerful and weak, the dominant and the subordinate, the master and the slave, changing so often and so subtly and so swiftly that you could miss it if you aren’t fully attentive. The power dynamic between the two characters, the actress Vanda and the playwright Thomas Novachek, begins with the normal distance expected when an unaccomplished actress auditions for a role (the whole play is the one scene, Vanda’s arrival and audition). But that power differential shortens and shortens until the two have switched sides of the line, and lines of all sorts get crossed over and over as the audition gets going.
It begins in a New York loft on a stormy night, and there are claps of thunder and bolts of lightning. I thought that was a little unnecessary in the beginning but it totally works to accompany the f-ed up drama that gets going (and especially the twist ending). Thomas (Oakes), the playwright, is on the phone with his significant other, bemoaning (in a preeeetty okay American accent but you could tell it was forced and it made his voice tenor kind of annoying) that none of the actresses who auditioned for his new play were right. Enter Vanda (Dormer), carrying a broken wet umbrella and a HUGE duffel bag crammed full of who knows what and apologizing in a (very very terrible) New York accent for how late she is for her audition and that she was stuck on the subway and a guy was trying to harass her and she just talked and talked until Thomas was like, I don’t see your name, so she went on talking and talking complaining about her shitty agent and her shitty luck until he was like FINE audition just so you stop talking FFS! But the accent and the drawl and the nonstop talking continued as she offhandedly mentioned how she skimmed through the play on the subway and how it’s ‘totally S&M porn’. Thomas, the playwright, is aghast at such a statement, saying that the book it’s based on was high literature. Vanda points out that the book was written by the guy whose name is the root of ‘sado-masochism’ so it seems like she won that one. Between her horrendous accent and her sloppy attire and her nonstop unsophisticated talking, it’s clear that Thomas will never give her a chance to be in his play and that she probably is terrible anyway. She takes off her coat and under her clothes she is wearing a full leather and chain dominatrix outfit, which she explains because of the whole play-being-s&m-porn thing. He’s horrified and explains how the play takes place in like 18th century Germany or something like that between semi-aristocrats. Vanda excitedly rummages through her giant duffel and finds a cream-colored high-necked and full-skirted dress right out of the appropriate era and asks him to help her put it on.
Then she is finally about to read, and Thomas is obviously annoyed and eager to let her read a few lines then send her away. Vanda says she’ll try more of a continental accent, to which Thomas kind of scoffs, imagining it will be even worse than her regular voice. But then Dormer recites the lines in her regular perfect fancy English accent and it wouldn’t have been a surprise if Thomas dropped dead of shock. He, like the audience, was now riveted by this goddess who just a minute ago was this offensive slob. Throughout the whole first section, I was thinking ‘ohhh my god I can’t wait to complain about how they should have just had this based in London so these actors could speak in their regular accents and focus on the acting instead of these over-the-top New York fakings!’ Silly me, I had no idea how important the switching between the accents would be. And that kept repeating itself throughout this show – everything I questioned, every aspect I nitpicked, would prove to be a deliberate decision made to enhance the drama.
Throughout Vanda’s line reading, she would swiftly move in and out of her English to New York accents when she had commentary to make on the script. It was hysterical; she’d say something posh in her English voice and sit all poised and then without a beat say in the grating NYC voice ‘this is some bullshit right here Thomas’ or something like that. She kept breaking to mention how sexist this was and how a woman wouldn’t really act like that and whether this reflected Thomas’s own views and desires. As it progressed, it became clear that she had all of Vanda’s lines memorized. “I thought you said you skimmed through it once on the subway?” Thomas asked. Then Vanda’s commentary started to reference the original book the play was based on and parts of Greek & Roman mythology that inform the themes in that book. Thomas’s amazement and curiosity is echoed in the audience – how does she all of a sudden know everything about this topic and the literature behind it? Who is this person? And the answer to that question gets more and more unclear the more Vanda talks about herself and the more she develops her audition. Deeper into the play, Vanda seems to know an awful lot about Thomas and his personal life, and his significant other. But we have no idea whether any of the reasons she provides are true. And while we wonder along with Thomas about who this person is and how crazy or terrifying or dangerous she might prove to be, Vanda distracts everyone from that question by toying with Thomas with his own written words and then with her own, as they try improvising as the play’s characters way too successfully.
One of the most striking aspects of seeing this show at this present moment was how relevant it was to the stories in the news about Harvey Weinstein and other men in power taking advantage of women in subordinate roles. With all the discussion about the power dynamic between men running things and actresses especially, and all the awareness (and dumb jokes) about the ‘casting couch’, this play’s exploration of these issues felt extra timely. Thomas himself is in charge at first, displaying dominance over the uncouth (can anything be just couth) young actress who’s almost begging him for an audition. Then, Thomas’s characters in the play-within-the play, Keshemski and Vanda, display the same male-dominated relationship at times, especially at the end of their story. One of the questions is the extent to which Thomas’s characters reflect his own desires, and whether the resolution of his play is one that he approves, with a woman begging to be subordinated anew to the man she wants to call her master. It’s pretty misogynistic, and Vanda calls him out on that. Thomas refutes that it’s misogynistic since women do have power in the subordinate role, but despite his arguments seeming to have some truth as he tries to spin a psychological webs to defend himself, it’s pretty clear that he wrote what he knew, and he wrote what he wanted, and what he wanted looks an awful lot like misogyny.
The play is generally interesting and it holds your attention, but the last 15 or so minutes are really where it’s at. That’s when its drama and its revelations and the fear it instills are actually mesmerizing. The very end has a revelation that, like everything Vanda says, you don’t know if it’s true or not, but it sure seems like it could be despite the impossibility. It’s quite fascinating. And every success of this play relies on the actress playing Vanda, it was obvious. Natalie does a really impressive job, and while David kind of pales in comparison, his is a much less meaty role to work with. This is Vanda’s play. And though it’s a weird as ass play in general, the more I think about it the more I appreciate whatever the crap it was trying to do.
So do I regret still missing the Broadway production? I do, because while Dormer was great, the raves I heard about Arianda were unparalleled, calling it the best performance of that season and maybe beyond. I would have loved to have seen what she managed to accomplish with this crazy role in this crazy play. But I’m glad I saw this one, and while I still have no idea how to resolve the mysteries of the show in my head (not that I’m supposed to), I think it’s surely worth seeing. It’s awkward as ass watching it though so be warned and don’t go with…anyone. Well no don’t go alone that’s creeperish too (and I love going to the theatre alone but this would feel a little like you’re the man in a trench coat at an adult theatre). Go with someone you’d be comfortable watching “Eyes Wide Shut” with. Fun fact: an English teacher in high school made us watch parts of that. SUPER INAPPROPRIATE.
It begins in a New York loft on a stormy night, and there are claps of thunder and bolts of lightning. I thought that was a little unnecessary in the beginning but it totally works to accompany the f-ed up drama that gets going (and especially the twist ending). Thomas (Oakes), the playwright, is on the phone with his significant other, bemoaning (in a preeeetty okay American accent but you could tell it was forced and it made his voice tenor kind of annoying) that none of the actresses who auditioned for his new play were right. Enter Vanda (Dormer), carrying a broken wet umbrella and a HUGE duffel bag crammed full of who knows what and apologizing in a (very very terrible) New York accent for how late she is for her audition and that she was stuck on the subway and a guy was trying to harass her and she just talked and talked until Thomas was like, I don’t see your name, so she went on talking and talking complaining about her shitty agent and her shitty luck until he was like FINE audition just so you stop talking FFS! But the accent and the drawl and the nonstop talking continued as she offhandedly mentioned how she skimmed through the play on the subway and how it’s ‘totally S&M porn’. Thomas, the playwright, is aghast at such a statement, saying that the book it’s based on was high literature. Vanda points out that the book was written by the guy whose name is the root of ‘sado-masochism’ so it seems like she won that one. Between her horrendous accent and her sloppy attire and her nonstop unsophisticated talking, it’s clear that Thomas will never give her a chance to be in his play and that she probably is terrible anyway. She takes off her coat and under her clothes she is wearing a full leather and chain dominatrix outfit, which she explains because of the whole play-being-s&m-porn thing. He’s horrified and explains how the play takes place in like 18th century Germany or something like that between semi-aristocrats. Vanda excitedly rummages through her giant duffel and finds a cream-colored high-necked and full-skirted dress right out of the appropriate era and asks him to help her put it on.
Then she is finally about to read, and Thomas is obviously annoyed and eager to let her read a few lines then send her away. Vanda says she’ll try more of a continental accent, to which Thomas kind of scoffs, imagining it will be even worse than her regular voice. But then Dormer recites the lines in her regular perfect fancy English accent and it wouldn’t have been a surprise if Thomas dropped dead of shock. He, like the audience, was now riveted by this goddess who just a minute ago was this offensive slob. Throughout the whole first section, I was thinking ‘ohhh my god I can’t wait to complain about how they should have just had this based in London so these actors could speak in their regular accents and focus on the acting instead of these over-the-top New York fakings!’ Silly me, I had no idea how important the switching between the accents would be. And that kept repeating itself throughout this show – everything I questioned, every aspect I nitpicked, would prove to be a deliberate decision made to enhance the drama.
Throughout Vanda’s line reading, she would swiftly move in and out of her English to New York accents when she had commentary to make on the script. It was hysterical; she’d say something posh in her English voice and sit all poised and then without a beat say in the grating NYC voice ‘this is some bullshit right here Thomas’ or something like that. She kept breaking to mention how sexist this was and how a woman wouldn’t really act like that and whether this reflected Thomas’s own views and desires. As it progressed, it became clear that she had all of Vanda’s lines memorized. “I thought you said you skimmed through it once on the subway?” Thomas asked. Then Vanda’s commentary started to reference the original book the play was based on and parts of Greek & Roman mythology that inform the themes in that book. Thomas’s amazement and curiosity is echoed in the audience – how does she all of a sudden know everything about this topic and the literature behind it? Who is this person? And the answer to that question gets more and more unclear the more Vanda talks about herself and the more she develops her audition. Deeper into the play, Vanda seems to know an awful lot about Thomas and his personal life, and his significant other. But we have no idea whether any of the reasons she provides are true. And while we wonder along with Thomas about who this person is and how crazy or terrifying or dangerous she might prove to be, Vanda distracts everyone from that question by toying with Thomas with his own written words and then with her own, as they try improvising as the play’s characters way too successfully.
One of the most striking aspects of seeing this show at this present moment was how relevant it was to the stories in the news about Harvey Weinstein and other men in power taking advantage of women in subordinate roles. With all the discussion about the power dynamic between men running things and actresses especially, and all the awareness (and dumb jokes) about the ‘casting couch’, this play’s exploration of these issues felt extra timely. Thomas himself is in charge at first, displaying dominance over the uncouth (can anything be just couth) young actress who’s almost begging him for an audition. Then, Thomas’s characters in the play-within-the play, Keshemski and Vanda, display the same male-dominated relationship at times, especially at the end of their story. One of the questions is the extent to which Thomas’s characters reflect his own desires, and whether the resolution of his play is one that he approves, with a woman begging to be subordinated anew to the man she wants to call her master. It’s pretty misogynistic, and Vanda calls him out on that. Thomas refutes that it’s misogynistic since women do have power in the subordinate role, but despite his arguments seeming to have some truth as he tries to spin a psychological webs to defend himself, it’s pretty clear that he wrote what he knew, and he wrote what he wanted, and what he wanted looks an awful lot like misogyny.
The play is generally interesting and it holds your attention, but the last 15 or so minutes are really where it’s at. That’s when its drama and its revelations and the fear it instills are actually mesmerizing. The very end has a revelation that, like everything Vanda says, you don’t know if it’s true or not, but it sure seems like it could be despite the impossibility. It’s quite fascinating. And every success of this play relies on the actress playing Vanda, it was obvious. Natalie does a really impressive job, and while David kind of pales in comparison, his is a much less meaty role to work with. This is Vanda’s play. And though it’s a weird as ass play in general, the more I think about it the more I appreciate whatever the crap it was trying to do.
So do I regret still missing the Broadway production? I do, because while Dormer was great, the raves I heard about Arianda were unparalleled, calling it the best performance of that season and maybe beyond. I would have loved to have seen what she managed to accomplish with this crazy role in this crazy play. But I’m glad I saw this one, and while I still have no idea how to resolve the mysteries of the show in my head (not that I’m supposed to), I think it’s surely worth seeing. It’s awkward as ass watching it though so be warned and don’t go with…anyone. Well no don’t go alone that’s creeperish too (and I love going to the theatre alone but this would feel a little like you’re the man in a trench coat at an adult theatre). Go with someone you’d be comfortable watching “Eyes Wide Shut” with. Fun fact: an English teacher in high school made us watch parts of that. SUPER INAPPROPRIATE.
AUDIENCE
I didn’t see any phones! To continue the theme of sexism that this play presented, I’m going to say that’s because it’s usually men who I see on their phones during plays, but this one had Natalie Dormer half naked onstage the whole time, so they were preoccupied.
STAGE DOOR
Guys I tried! The Game of Thrones fandom is too much, I think! It was a huge line – seriously, a single file line down the sidewalk; they really need to figure out a better system because there’s no way the actors were going to walk down that line to sign programs. We waited about 20 minutes but then gave up. What do you say to actors after that kind of performance anyway??!! So awkward!
