Everywoman at London’s Bunker Theatre: You’re GD Right This is Universalby Randi / February 19, 2020It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are (finally) looking at two works in progress I saw at MTFest a week or so ago and hoping that creatives make the necessary fixes as needed.
Let me first state for the record that MTFestUK is a phenomenal project, a weeks-long showcase of new musical theatre works and works in progress. In a city where new musical theatre talent and ideas can easily take a backseat to big shiny commercial ventures at the expense of artistry, this platform gives a much-needed boost, hopefully towards a full-fledged production, to creativity and originality. London needs to nurture more original and innovative musical theatre and more undersung talent, so this festival rocks.
I had time to see two shows during this festival, The Assassination of Katie Hopkins (AKH) and Soapdish. I had low expectations for the former, as it’s a new-to-me creative team and it sounded either silly or too much and I just didn’t know about it. I had high expectations for the latter since it came from Stiles & Drewe and had a cast of super recognizable names. As they say about expectations or assumptions or what have you, the results were the exact opposite: AKH (I wish it abbreviated sensibly to ASS because that’s what she is) was incredibly impressive and has stuck with me, where Soapdish was almost offensive to me as a human person and is the latest entry in my How to Fix Your Show series. Let’s start with the good.
The Assassination of Katie Hopkins
Extremely relevant politically and socially, ASS AKH shows the aftermath of the imagined murder of Katie Hopkins, notorious far-right political commentator, English Trumpian, racist, bigot, stupidhead, and all around c-word. On the first consideration of this fictional event you’re like ‘eh all in a day’ but you know, it’s still a murder, and that’s bad. The show follows several threads of narrative post-event, with interweaving lyrics and melodies to show the connectedness of ‘different sides’ and all of our lives. There’s young intern Kayleigh (Bethzienna Williams), tasked with researching Hopkins for a human rights charity and finding herself somehow propelled to the spotlight as she sort of takes up Hopkins’ mantle. The path of this young lost person getting swept up in right-wing fanaticism in order to find her foothold in our society seemed so authentic, and it was cool (I mean not cool but you know cool) to see the radicalization of a girl for a change.
Other storytelling threads involve the increase in harassment for people of color who had nothing to do with the murder, as is the sad but super predictable result, like post 9/11 bullshit. One such target is Shayma (Maimuna Memon (who we LOVED in Ghost Quartet, put her in everything)), a paralegal at a big law firm who expects better from people but feels like she’s the only one recognizing so much of the tragedy happening constantly. Shayma has a history of being ‘problematic’ at her firm, because she was sexually harassed by a bigwig and got him fired, so she’s on thin ice because that’s how that works. (The firing is the only hard to believe part of this show, since big law firms love to just pay the victims hush money so they don’t have to discipline ‘important men’. Happens super frequently it’s astounding. FUN WORLD.) She serves as the voice of most conscience-having people, wondering if we are taking crazy pills as the rest of the world seems to move on from enormous tragic events after a single breath. The whole show gives a good voice to the idea of empathy exhaustion, an aspect I found quite moving.
I hope that in the full show, Kayleigh’s journey to the right-wing spotlight is shown as more of a progression rather than a jump, since that journey is really believable and important to discuss. I hope Shayma is given more to do (I mean just let her sing the whole time) to show the interplay of her story with the rest, because as it stands, her song about slaying dragons after a tube incident could be cut, as it didn’t flow with the rest of the show as I saw, but if it’s woven more fully into the narrative it would be great because that song was forking fire. A lot of the music (by Matt Winkworth and Chris Bush) is wonderful, actually, and a lot of it is haunting. There was one point when Shayma was singing the list of names from one horrific tragedy and she said ‘Victor’ at the same time someone was singing the word ‘victim’ and I almost gasped, it was gorgeous. I cannot wait to see this show as a full-fledged production; I think it has the potential to be incredible.
Soapdish
Boy oh boy, you big man, you boy. Based on the 1991 Sally Field movie, Soapdish is about soap opera darling Celeste Talbert who is America’s sweetheart onscreen and a real b word offscreen. Her younger costar schemes to knock her off her perch and become the star. And there’s a secret love child involved. So this all sounds super fun and should be ripe for the romcom musical treatment, but so far, this show felt way too amateur. I wouldn’t be so blunt about these sorts of progress report showcases but given the talent involved, I expected much more refined work. They need to chuck the score out the window and start over (but keep the two instances of good rhymes – future with suture and Brecht with expect; those were good). It was like rough draft of Mean Girls songs (and that’s saying something since the final version of Mean Girls has like one good song). No song passed the smell test.
Also, the lead character of Celeste (Louise Dearman) needs to be reconsidered. The whole thing is that she’s an awful monster in real life – at least that’s what the preshow introduction said – but she didn’t seem like a bitch at all; she just seemed sad and pathetic knowing that her days were numbered as she gets older. So after the score, my second big problem is that there is no consistency to the lead character. Why should we be interested in her younger costar’s attempt at a coup except to say that like, it’s kind of sad?
And that brings me to the biggest problem. This younger costar Montana (Laura Pitt-Pulford) uses the promise of sex to get the producer, David (Richard Dempsey), to go along with her shenanigans. I get that this was the movie plot, in 1991, but that is no excuse for having such a grossly sexist storyline. (See, e.g. Pretty Woman the Musical and how copying the movie is not an excuse to be shit.) Everything about this felt super icky and suuuper obvious that it was an all-male creative team. Look people, there’s a way to do old-fashioned storylines, and even sexist storylines, without actually having your show feel sexist. It was infuriating, this whole thing, even though LPP says the name ‘David’ hilariously – but like most good jokes they repeat it ad infinitum and thus run it into the ground, destroying the fun of it. Actually the ruining of a great bit of comedy might be the most upsetting part. And of course the fact that London audiences will eat this shit up, and did.
The only person who comes out on top is young Alice Croft, who has a voice like baby Laura Osnes and honestly I cannot wait to hear her sing full (improved) scores.
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Yo, Adrian: “Rocky” the Musical is Actually Ya Know Great
Yes this is in a Broadway theatre
Yo, Adrian, I dunno why but I had so much fun ya know like so much at “Rocky” on Broadway. It gets shaky reviews from highbrow critics (not like me tee-hee) and people who fancy themselves theatre aficionados (well that is me), but the audiences, and seemingly everyone on Twitter, love it like it’s the city of brotherly love. For shows I don’t like, I’m the first person to discount audience adoration (THOSE IGNORANT PLEBEIANS) but for shows I enjoy, like this one, come on look the audience loves it! That means it’s worth seeing!
But truly it is worth seeing. The music isn’t consistent (I found myself thinking, “Wait this is Flaherty & Aherns? The geniuses who wrote “Anastasia”???), yet even with several weak songs, the show proved that it deserved the musical treatment. It’s the only show now on Broadway that takes actual risks, many of them, and makes it pay off with a tremendously enjoyable experience. With Broadway moving towards complete takeover by jukebox musicals, revues, and over-the-top spectacles, risky and innovative musicals like this should be celebrated.
So about the actual show. Everyone knows the story, right? About the lovable down-on-his-luck boxer living in South Philadelphia (heyooo) who gets a chance at fighting in the biggest fight there is and loves a girl named Adrian? If you don’t you should go watch the movie. There’s a movie. Actually several.
My perception may have been colored because I had the best seat I’ve ever had for a show (thanks lottery! And the gods of fortune that day!). I won the cheap ticket lottery a few months ago (the show has since switched to a general rush policy with worse seats, which I think means it’s doing well) and got the seat right next to the conductor, front row center. Being that close to anything may help (but then again I had front row at “Bullets Over Broadway” and that’s not getting away with anything). The front rows are also part of the ridiculously fun Golden Circle, which we’ll get to later. Regardless, the entire audience at my performance seemed to love it, and I barely stopped smiling.
This is due mostly to Andy Karl, who plays Rocky Balboa and was deservedly nominated for a Tony Award. He is spectacular. He’s understated, super charming, funny and he works his ass off. He also drinks 3 raw eggs every performance, which is disgusting and awful but like that is commitment. Karl has a great singing voice but for this role his speaking voice was even more effective, though his (and everyone’s) accent veers more towards Brooklyn than Philly. It happens. But every time he says “Yo Adrian” – which is basically every time he opens his mouth – somehow it’s perfect and adorable and made me laugh, in the best way. Thankfully, his solo numbers were among the best songs of the show, as it should be. He has some rousing I-believe-in-me-oh-yes-you-just-watch songs, some nice ones about or with Adrian, and one really silly one to open with (“My Nose Ain’t Broken”) that establishes his character and his charm despite some cringeworthy lyrics. Also he has pet turtles. I don’t know if they are real, but he’s adorable with them. As all people are when they treat animals nicely.
Speaking of Adrian, she is a revelation. Margo Seibert’s acting is subtle and natural, and she hides this lovely voice that she expertly wields at the right moments. At several moments I had the urge to give her a hug, which was dangerous because I was close enough to actually do that. She has the most beautiful song in the show, “Raining”, which will likely become a staple performance piece of college girls trying to major in theatre. She also wears the famous red hat and white coat at the end, so nice job all around.
The lackluster songs come when other characters, like Apollo Creed, random scantily clad women, and Headmaster Charleston, were given songs that didn’t do anything to drive the plot forward. This show had enough happening; side characters didn’t need songs just to reinforce that this was a musical. They didn’t further develop the characters, but they bored the audience.
But yes so Headmaster Charleston (Dakin Matthews) is in this, playing Rocky’s coach. When I first saw him onstage I got real scared that he was going to yell at me for breaking into the school at midnight to ring a bell. Thankfully, he didn’t. He’s well cast, but he should not have a song, especially one that is lame and at the top of Act II. The beginning of Act II in any musical needs to be energetic and interesting, because a) you have to bring the audience back into the story and b) second acts are notoriously worse than first acts so why not try to fight that? This ill-planned song about how the coach used to fight or something was like RoadRunner falling off a cliff like beeeyoooahhhhhhhhhbummmmmm (#soundeffects). Filler and dead filler at best. That’s the director’s fault.
After that, the first half of the second act is pretty much training montages set to “Eye of the Tiger”, and damn if they aren’t incredibly fun. That’s how the act should have begun. I’m pretty sure Karl works out like 18 hours a day, but the workout he gets in this show would be enough for a normal person. He jogs back and forth across the stage as digital backgrounds show parts of Philly (that no sane person would run through without a vest), he does push-ups and pull-ups, he drinks the raw eggs (ew), he punches the sides of beef hanging in his friend’s meat locker (ahhhh), and yes he runs up the Art Museum steps (woooo!). I was exhausted just watching it. Hell I’m exhausted just writing about it.
So about the actual show. Everyone knows the story, right? About the lovable down-on-his-luck boxer living in South Philadelphia (heyooo) who gets a chance at fighting in the biggest fight there is and loves a girl named Adrian? If you don’t you should go watch the movie. There’s a movie. Actually several.
My perception may have been colored because I had the best seat I’ve ever had for a show (thanks lottery! And the gods of fortune that day!). I won the cheap ticket lottery a few months ago (the show has since switched to a general rush policy with worse seats, which I think means it’s doing well) and got the seat right next to the conductor, front row center. Being that close to anything may help (but then again I had front row at “Bullets Over Broadway” and that’s not getting away with anything). The front rows are also part of the ridiculously fun Golden Circle, which we’ll get to later. Regardless, the entire audience at my performance seemed to love it, and I barely stopped smiling.
This is due mostly to Andy Karl, who plays Rocky Balboa and was deservedly nominated for a Tony Award. He is spectacular. He’s understated, super charming, funny and he works his ass off. He also drinks 3 raw eggs every performance, which is disgusting and awful but like that is commitment. Karl has a great singing voice but for this role his speaking voice was even more effective, though his (and everyone’s) accent veers more towards Brooklyn than Philly. It happens. But every time he says “Yo Adrian” – which is basically every time he opens his mouth – somehow it’s perfect and adorable and made me laugh, in the best way. Thankfully, his solo numbers were among the best songs of the show, as it should be. He has some rousing I-believe-in-me-oh-yes-you-just-watch songs, some nice ones about or with Adrian, and one really silly one to open with (“My Nose Ain’t Broken”) that establishes his character and his charm despite some cringeworthy lyrics. Also he has pet turtles. I don’t know if they are real, but he’s adorable with them. As all people are when they treat animals nicely.
Speaking of Adrian, she is a revelation. Margo Seibert’s acting is subtle and natural, and she hides this lovely voice that she expertly wields at the right moments. At several moments I had the urge to give her a hug, which was dangerous because I was close enough to actually do that. She has the most beautiful song in the show, “Raining”, which will likely become a staple performance piece of college girls trying to major in theatre. She also wears the famous red hat and white coat at the end, so nice job all around.
The lackluster songs come when other characters, like Apollo Creed, random scantily clad women, and Headmaster Charleston, were given songs that didn’t do anything to drive the plot forward. This show had enough happening; side characters didn’t need songs just to reinforce that this was a musical. They didn’t further develop the characters, but they bored the audience.
But yes so Headmaster Charleston (Dakin Matthews) is in this, playing Rocky’s coach. When I first saw him onstage I got real scared that he was going to yell at me for breaking into the school at midnight to ring a bell. Thankfully, he didn’t. He’s well cast, but he should not have a song, especially one that is lame and at the top of Act II. The beginning of Act II in any musical needs to be energetic and interesting, because a) you have to bring the audience back into the story and b) second acts are notoriously worse than first acts so why not try to fight that? This ill-planned song about how the coach used to fight or something was like RoadRunner falling off a cliff like beeeyoooahhhhhhhhhbummmmmm (#soundeffects). Filler and dead filler at best. That’s the director’s fault.
After that, the first half of the second act is pretty much training montages set to “Eye of the Tiger”, and damn if they aren’t incredibly fun. That’s how the act should have begun. I’m pretty sure Karl works out like 18 hours a day, but the workout he gets in this show would be enough for a normal person. He jogs back and forth across the stage as digital backgrounds show parts of Philly (that no sane person would run through without a vest), he does push-ups and pull-ups, he drinks the raw eggs (ew), he punches the sides of beef hanging in his friend’s meat locker (ahhhh), and yes he runs up the Art Museum steps (woooo!). I was exhausted just watching it. Hell I’m exhausted just writing about it.
All of this leads to the crux of the show, and the #1 reason to see it: The Fight. Everyone who assumed that this epic battle between Rocky and Apollo Creed could not be performed well on a stage is proved wrong. So…everyone. This is when it pays to pay more for good seats up front, because the first 8 or so rows of the center orchestra, called the “Golden Circle”, are taken up on stage ON A BROADWAY STAGE OMG to act as the arena’s audience to the fight. The big boxing ring comes front and center on the stage, and the lucky audience members sit behind this on bleachers, looking out onto the rest of the audience (chumps). Then, the entire set – the bleachers holding these audience members and the ring – moves out into the orchestra, where people had just been sitting! So the people sitting in the side orchestra seats are now sitting along the sides of the ring. It’s all pretty awesome, and then the fighting begins and it’s ridiculous. I don’t know how they do it other than assuming that they are actually beating the shit out of each other for like 20 minutes. Punches fly and, as far as I could tell, land. Sweat and blood drip off their faces, and in the light you can see whatever other substance flies off boxers when they get hit. It’s insane, and intense. HOW IS THIS HAPPENING? Seriously? I met Andy Karl after the show and he looked pretty and not dead, so it’s pure stage magic happening up there. It’s one of the coolest sequences to occur on a Broadway stage, and how great that it relies solely on two actors and not on crazy technology. In this way, the show is kind of old-fashioned, yet the show as a whole – in my view the first to handle sports successfully – is modern, risky, and a must-see.
“Home, I’m Darling”: Hey Mama Welcome to the ‘50s, oh oh oh oh oh oh
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about “Home, I’m Darling”, which ended its run on September 5 at London’s Dorfman Theatre.
In the opening scene of the wonderful new play “Home, I’m Darling”, you’re quickly transported to the 1950s, watching a “terribly happy”, no, “appallingly happy!” husband and wife go through their morning routine: the full-skirted wife in her brightly colored period-perfect kitchen dotes on her husband and serves him his perfectly toasted toast, his perfectly made tea, before bidding him farewell as he gathers his hat and briefcase and sets off for the office. It’s all very first-half-of-‘Pleasantville’, until the wife slumps into her chair and pulls out a silver MacBook from a drawer. With that flawless introduction, we know we have this couple not in the ‘50s, but living today, among us, who are actively choosing to live like they are stuck in the past. Why they would do this and how happy they could really be are the first questions that spring to mind, of many, and this play does a marvelous job of answering them.
In the opening scene of the wonderful new play “Home, I’m Darling”, you’re quickly transported to the 1950s, watching a “terribly happy”, no, “appallingly happy!” husband and wife go through their morning routine: the full-skirted wife in her brightly colored period-perfect kitchen dotes on her husband and serves him his perfectly toasted toast, his perfectly made tea, before bidding him farewell as he gathers his hat and briefcase and sets off for the office. It’s all very first-half-of-‘Pleasantville’, until the wife slumps into her chair and pulls out a silver MacBook from a drawer. With that flawless introduction, we know we have this couple not in the ‘50s, but living today, among us, who are actively choosing to live like they are stuck in the past. Why they would do this and how happy they could really be are the first questions that spring to mind, of many, and this play does a marvelous job of answering them.
With Laura Wade’s compelling script, tight and well edited yet large in scope, “Home, I’m Darling” seems like it will be a straightforward look at gender roles and whether feminism really does encompass the choice to be subordinate, but it develops into a complex deep-dive into what makes a marriage successful. When we meet Judy and Johnny, they’ve been doing this 1950s experiment for 3 years, after Judy was made redundant at her high-powered finance job (which we see in a truly great use of flexible and creative direction). Since the two of them love ‘50s fashion and old-timey cars, Judy suggests that they go all-in and she becomes a stereotypical ‘50s housewife, doing housework (with only era-appropriate appliances and cleaning methods, which she learns from her ‘bible’, a 1949 instruction book for housewives) and cooking (meat and potatoes and other suitably ‘50s meals) and baking up a storm and bringing her husband his slippers and a cocktail every day when he gets home from work. They turn their house and every aspect of their marriage into a flashback, not realizing that moving back in time will prevent them from growing together in their marriage.
Since the play is written and directed by women, I assumed like any good feminist that the woman would get sick and tired of being subordinate. But the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that. It unexpectedly becomes a stark look at the futility of trying to capture ‘the good old days’ when it’s really a means of hiding from your own problems. I was surprised that Johnny (Richard Harrington), waited on hand and foot, would ever get tired of the arrangement, assuming that it would be a dream for him and most men. But of course he did, because both people in a relationship have to take care of each other, and anything too one-sided is going to fail. Johnny also starts to lose respect for his wife, and a self-conscious embarrassment when outsiders see how they live soon takes over.
And Judy, who seems at first to be a straightforward housewife with some self-esteem issues, is much more complex too. Played by a fantastic Katherine Parkinson, Judy desperately clings to this lifestyle, even when faced with how many problems it’s causing, because it’s her way of feeling safe against the outside world. I was struck by Katherine’s too-calm tone in her delivery, like she was deliberately avoiding causing any kind of stir to upset not only her husband but the fragile world they created. When she finally confronts why she would want to live like this, Judy admits that she feels like when you’d be sick from school for a week, missing crucial lessons and feeling a little lost on those topics from that point forward, terrified that there will be a question on the exam about that. “That’s how I feel about the world”, she says. This bubble she wanted to create was the ultimate safe space for her, and if it doesn’t work, then she’ll have to deal with her own issues.
Including the backstory of Judy’s unconventional upbringing, which influenced her worldview as well, could have felt forced but instead it seemed earnest. Raised by an uber-feminist mother (a really fun Sian Thomas, in a role that could have easily been annoying but instead was cathartic) on a commune, Judy always felt a yearning for a traditional family life. Her mother, horrified by her daughter’s decision to live this way, is the only voice of reason, continually admonishing Judy and reminding her of how silly it all is with great lines like, “You can’t be nostalgic for the ‘50s – you weren’t there!” But rather than nostalgia, it’s more a dream of an escape, an avoidance of the real world, and she has transformed her feeling of being ill-equipped to handle the real world into a decision to stay safe and secure in this way.
Plenty of time is spent looking into their relationship with their best friends and into Johnny’s work life, which lets us see the fully formed universe of this story. Johnny’s deteriorating performance at work is linked to his unhappiness at home, as is his seemingly desperate and superficial attraction to his new young boss, something modern to tell himself he wants instead of dealing with problems. Their friends Fran and Marcus enjoy dressing up in period clothes sometimes and joining Judy and Johnny at something called Jivestock, an annual weekend event that sounds like my absolute nightmare. But their reticence to commit to playing unnatural parts feels like a personal injury to Judy, like yet another little poke at her bubble threatening to force her into an unwanted reckoning. When the man friend is in trouble at work for sexual harassment, it’s unclear whether Judy’s inclination to immediate side with him (against the more-and-more obviously right victim) is a result of her role-playing warping her brain or something she actually believes in, and the haze around this side plot is brilliantly formed.
Also brilliantly formed is the set, and honestly even if you weren’t into the story, you could happily spent the 2 ½ hours examining all the details of the two-story house they built. Each room was a different bright color with period-perfect décor, down to the pineapple-shaped ice bucket on their chic mid-century modern bar. Same for Judy’s gorgeous costumes, although the rest of the costumes left me cold. And I’ve never, ever seen any play that has such elaborate prop work, most of it food. SO MUCH FOOD! They eat breakfast, she makes his lunch, they eat dinner, she bakes, she cooks for guests, they eat dinner again – I can’t remember one 10 second snippet of this play that didn’t have food or cocktails involved. Honestly I don’t know how the actors or the crew keep track of all of that (and I hope they don’t waste all of it).
Aside from the scene breaks, in which two actors would dance to ‘50s music while the scene changed (it was hella awkward when they aren’t professional dancers), there’s not much I would change about this play. Although it seems like a straightforward story, the complicated issues of our protagonists are unexpected and profound, and the show reveals a lot more about the modern world and relationships than you’d think from the candy-colored look of it all.
INFORMATION
Yeah so I didn’t know I was seeing it on the last day! I am really hoping for a transfer of some sort because it deserves a longer run in a bigger theatre, especially to get more use out of that set!
I bought a Friday rush ticket (the National Theatre offers rush tickets for the following week’s performances across its theatres at noon every Friday) for 24 pounddollars, for a restricted view seat. My seat, P58, was on the stage right side of the mezzanine, which I really liked for one reason (the stage and stalls are actually below ground so my mezz seat was ground level (I don’t like being underground)) and disliked for most others (it was really restricted). There’s a big bar like RIGHT THERE so I had to do a lot of leaning over to see the living room at stage right. Even P59 would be a better option, even though it’s a more extreme angle, because the bar isn’t there. Just so you know for Dorfman bookings.
As is expected at every London play I see, the audience (and mostly the older men) laughed at WEIRD times. Like, when the friend admits that he’s on leave from work because he was inappropriate with his secretary, the old men in the audience LAUGHED. I imagine they were laughing in remembered commiseration like ‘ho boy do I know what that’s like!’ man alive.
Since the play is written and directed by women, I assumed like any good feminist that the woman would get sick and tired of being subordinate. But the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that. It unexpectedly becomes a stark look at the futility of trying to capture ‘the good old days’ when it’s really a means of hiding from your own problems. I was surprised that Johnny (Richard Harrington), waited on hand and foot, would ever get tired of the arrangement, assuming that it would be a dream for him and most men. But of course he did, because both people in a relationship have to take care of each other, and anything too one-sided is going to fail. Johnny also starts to lose respect for his wife, and a self-conscious embarrassment when outsiders see how they live soon takes over.
And Judy, who seems at first to be a straightforward housewife with some self-esteem issues, is much more complex too. Played by a fantastic Katherine Parkinson, Judy desperately clings to this lifestyle, even when faced with how many problems it’s causing, because it’s her way of feeling safe against the outside world. I was struck by Katherine’s too-calm tone in her delivery, like she was deliberately avoiding causing any kind of stir to upset not only her husband but the fragile world they created. When she finally confronts why she would want to live like this, Judy admits that she feels like when you’d be sick from school for a week, missing crucial lessons and feeling a little lost on those topics from that point forward, terrified that there will be a question on the exam about that. “That’s how I feel about the world”, she says. This bubble she wanted to create was the ultimate safe space for her, and if it doesn’t work, then she’ll have to deal with her own issues.
Including the backstory of Judy’s unconventional upbringing, which influenced her worldview as well, could have felt forced but instead it seemed earnest. Raised by an uber-feminist mother (a really fun Sian Thomas, in a role that could have easily been annoying but instead was cathartic) on a commune, Judy always felt a yearning for a traditional family life. Her mother, horrified by her daughter’s decision to live this way, is the only voice of reason, continually admonishing Judy and reminding her of how silly it all is with great lines like, “You can’t be nostalgic for the ‘50s – you weren’t there!” But rather than nostalgia, it’s more a dream of an escape, an avoidance of the real world, and she has transformed her feeling of being ill-equipped to handle the real world into a decision to stay safe and secure in this way.
Plenty of time is spent looking into their relationship with their best friends and into Johnny’s work life, which lets us see the fully formed universe of this story. Johnny’s deteriorating performance at work is linked to his unhappiness at home, as is his seemingly desperate and superficial attraction to his new young boss, something modern to tell himself he wants instead of dealing with problems. Their friends Fran and Marcus enjoy dressing up in period clothes sometimes and joining Judy and Johnny at something called Jivestock, an annual weekend event that sounds like my absolute nightmare. But their reticence to commit to playing unnatural parts feels like a personal injury to Judy, like yet another little poke at her bubble threatening to force her into an unwanted reckoning. When the man friend is in trouble at work for sexual harassment, it’s unclear whether Judy’s inclination to immediate side with him (against the more-and-more obviously right victim) is a result of her role-playing warping her brain or something she actually believes in, and the haze around this side plot is brilliantly formed.
Also brilliantly formed is the set, and honestly even if you weren’t into the story, you could happily spent the 2 ½ hours examining all the details of the two-story house they built. Each room was a different bright color with period-perfect décor, down to the pineapple-shaped ice bucket on their chic mid-century modern bar. Same for Judy’s gorgeous costumes, although the rest of the costumes left me cold. And I’ve never, ever seen any play that has such elaborate prop work, most of it food. SO MUCH FOOD! They eat breakfast, she makes his lunch, they eat dinner, she bakes, she cooks for guests, they eat dinner again – I can’t remember one 10 second snippet of this play that didn’t have food or cocktails involved. Honestly I don’t know how the actors or the crew keep track of all of that (and I hope they don’t waste all of it).
Aside from the scene breaks, in which two actors would dance to ‘50s music while the scene changed (it was hella awkward when they aren’t professional dancers), there’s not much I would change about this play. Although it seems like a straightforward story, the complicated issues of our protagonists are unexpected and profound, and the show reveals a lot more about the modern world and relationships than you’d think from the candy-colored look of it all.
INFORMATION
Yeah so I didn’t know I was seeing it on the last day! I am really hoping for a transfer of some sort because it deserves a longer run in a bigger theatre, especially to get more use out of that set!
I bought a Friday rush ticket (the National Theatre offers rush tickets for the following week’s performances across its theatres at noon every Friday) for 24 pounddollars, for a restricted view seat. My seat, P58, was on the stage right side of the mezzanine, which I really liked for one reason (the stage and stalls are actually below ground so my mezz seat was ground level (I don’t like being underground)) and disliked for most others (it was really restricted). There’s a big bar like RIGHT THERE so I had to do a lot of leaning over to see the living room at stage right. Even P59 would be a better option, even though it’s a more extreme angle, because the bar isn’t there. Just so you know for Dorfman bookings.
As is expected at every London play I see, the audience (and mostly the older men) laughed at WEIRD times. Like, when the friend admits that he’s on leave from work because he was inappropriate with his secretary, the old men in the audience LAUGHED. I imagine they were laughing in remembered commiseration like ‘ho boy do I know what that’s like!’ man alive.
