January 19, 2023
Tom Stoppard’s New Epic Leopoldstadt is Just What this Town Needsby Randi / February 27, 2020The youth culture monster Be More Chill, by Joe Iconis, has finally hit London. I dreaded seeing it because I’m An Adult who appreciates High Art. I girded my loins and I evoked Chandler thinking “could I BE any more nervous about seeing this show?” And guess what? It was a whole lot of fun, both silly and earnest, with a book that despite being a little predictable is also as clever as it is enjoyable, and I am shocked.
Why am I shocked? After all, yoots have been obsessed with Be More Chill for years now, overjoyed to finally get a show that reflects what high school life and concerns are like nowadays without requiring you to sob through it. But everything I heard about the New York productions from people of discerning taste was that it’s too loud, too annoying, with a score that’s basically just noise and a plot that’s completely eye roll. So is the London production really that much better or are we just getting desperate for good shows over here? Maybe these people, whose opinions I usually value, are just not as fun-loving and happy-go-lucky as lil bab childlike me. (I told you I can be funny.) Maybe the relatively small Other Palace is just the perfect theatre to house this show. Or maybe I just still have the soul of a 14-year-old. Maybe it’s all of that but whatever the reasons, I found Be More Chill surprisingly entertaining, enjoyable, and, honestly, of decent quality. No I’m not going to listen to the cast recording until I memorize every breath like I usually do (I tried, it’s not my kind of score), but seeing it live? So fun!
Be More Chill tells the story of Jeremy (Scott Folan, very good but I fear he will lose his voice soon), a huge nerd trying to get through the school day without too much trouble and maybe with a run-in with the girl he likes, Christine (Miracle Chance, cute and yes that’s her real name not the character name I forking love her parents). He learns a huge secret: Japan has new technology called a Squip, which implants on your brain and controls your behavior via a sort of Bad Janet that only you can see, who helps you make cool dude decisions so you can stop being a nerd and start being awesome. I DID SAY I WANTED ORIGINAL STORIES, DIDN’T I.
Obvs Jeremy gets one on the black market (he mentions using his Bar Mitzvah money to pay for it, which is the kind of casual Jewish representation that WE NEED to help normalize it in this anti-Semitic country, MORE OF THIS PLZ (also it’s like the first tiny step in a long future of necessary apologies I require from The Other Palace for Falsettos)) and while it does make him cooler, there are consequences, like alienating his best friend Michael (Blake Patrick Anderson, honestly incred), treating people like dirt, and, of course, the Little Shop-like twist that our trusty Squip (Stewart Clarke) and his fellow Bad Janets intend to take over the world (so he’s def more Audrey-II-But-Hot-and-Straight-Out-of-the-Matrix than our beloved Bad Janet who LEARNED and REDEEMED herself). So, like what I originally assumed Parasite was going to be about (I did not read about it in advance, as I was instructed).
What’s great about this show is…not so much the music, which is serviceable but does indeed start to resemble a wall of noise towards the end of Act I (especially the whole Burning down the House section which was too close to going clubbing and seemed like just an excuse for a dance break) (shocking because I love so much of Joe’s music (no not just his amazing “Broadway Here I Come” from Smash…but yeah that is my fave)). The story, even though it’s this futuristic techno crazyspice, is really a completely universal tale about friendship, insecurity, and being okay with being yourself. The clever book, by Joe Tracz (based on Ned Vizzini’s book) (no not that Vizzini), weaves through storylines and achieves callbacks with finesse and humor. It’s definitely American slanted, and I’m glad they didn’t rewrite some of the best parts for London, because we appreciated the bejesus out of the references to New Jersey malls, Ghostbusters ecto cooler, and so much more. (The people near us were probably like WHAT IS SO FUNNY ABOUT PARAMUS.)
Anderson’s “Michael in the Bathroom”, the famous song to come out of this show and the only one I sort of like out of context, is the showstopper you hope it’ll be, due to its wonderful role in the story, relatable message, and Anderson’s pitch-perfect performance. He’s clearly very talented and I hope we see a lot more of him in future shows. Millie O’Connell, probably the most famous name in the cast, doesn’t have much to do, but when she does get to shine it’s hilarious, like in her very Alexis-Rose-oh-that’s-cute-for-you book scenes. Even Jeremy’s dad gets to have a ball (no reference to the fact that he’s pantsless most of the time intended). The whole cast is having a blast and it’s impossible not to join in.
INFORMATION
Be More Chill is playing at London’s The Other Palace until June 14, after extending another 6 weeks. (I don’t think it can extend again due to TOP’s future season but it is breaking all sorts of box office records there, so.)
The first act ended after 72 minutes and the second exactly at the 2 ½ hour mark overall so good work team.
The Other Palace is an okayyy theatre. Seating is in just one giant section of central-aisle-less rows, a solid block and a super steep one at that, so unless you like being trapped for what can seem like forever, sit closer to the aisles and further up/back. For the first time ever, I sat in the back of the theatre and not only did I not get trapped behind slowpokes when exiting, but the view from the back is just as good. Highly recommend my new fave seats.
Bathrooms are out in the lobby by the bar and also behind a secret (ish) door right next to the house left side of the stage, which few people know about.
This is the first time I’ve ever seen an off-West End production sell merch, which isn’t even the done thing all too often at regular West End shows, so if you want clothing and what not, good for you.
Be warned, since this is a show that attracts cult-like superfans, there’s a lot of dancing in the seats and mouthing along, which got super annoying and distracting but not enough to detract from the show. Also lots of over-the-top wrapper noise which is just par for the humanity course nowadays because everyone is monsters.
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Beckett’s Endgame at the Old Vic Successfully Captures the Yearning for the Sweet Release of Death
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Endgame by Samuel Beckett, playing a double bill with his short piece Rough for Theatre II, now at the Old Vic if you like torture.
To sort something straight off the bat: this is NOT about the last Avengers movie (which, amazingly enough, I still have not seen. I really do not care anymore about those superheroes. It’s too much). Endgame is a famous play by Samuel Beckett, the playwright of ‘theatre of the absurd’, famed for his dreary, bleak look at the human existence. He did not seem happy. People say his work is ‘tragi-comic’ but I did not get the comic part. He famously said that nothing is funnier than unhappiness…which after seeing this production, I promise you is false: I was very unhappy, and very much not amused. I have never been so close to being sure that a piece of theatre was pranking me as I was during this evening at the Old Vic, nearly shouting “oh THIS is the bad place” despite the beloved talent onstage (Daniel Radcliffe and Alan Cumming). I’ve also never seen so many people walk out of a show, unable to wait till an interval or the end, and I’ve seen some shit.
Let’s start with Rough for Theatre II, since it’s a little nothing of a show. This production serves a double bill with Beckett’s little one-act that’s about two like, afterlife accountants but not in the brilliant Good Place way, who show up when someone is about to commit suicide and they go through his life and see whether he should or not? At least I think that’s what it’s about. It was odd and vague and incredibly short. Daniel Radcliffe gets to do a lot of box jumps which is fun for him but not for me when watching because I was like I wanna do box jumps instead of watch this. I honestly have to give Beckett props for naming it what it is.
Endgame, the main course, is one of the most unreasonable pieces of theatre I’ve ever seen. Remember how Alex Borstein did that episode of Friends where she had a one-woman show about why men don’t like her and talked about getting her first period, and Chandler made everyone go see it as punishment? I didn’t know Sammy Beckett but I feel like he really hated theatergoers. He’s the playwright equivalent of Lewis Black’s joke about how airplane seats in economy were created by a guy with scoliosis who is really f-ing pissed. This piece is about an invalid (Alan) and his servant (Daniel) and Alan is mean to Daniel and Daniel has a limp but Alan can’t walk or stand at all and they just are like, waiting for death? It’s considered a sort of sequel to Waiting for Godot and I guess they just replaced Godot with Death. Alan’s parents live in trashcans at the foot of the stage and sometimes they pop up and say nonsense things that are weird and not funny and he replies in ways that are absurd because I guess this is Theatre of the Absurd but just because it has an official title doesn’t make it worthwhile.
Daniel is fine, but there’s only so much you can do performance-wise with the material you are given, especially when most of your requirements are carrying a ladder to and fro and climbing up and shimmying down, over and over and over in an act that serves no purpose except to delight people who find delight in incongruous slapstick, a cheap laugh ploy that, of course, works because people love cheap laughs that don’t have anything to do with anything. Alan Cumming is fine, though overly hammy much of the time. But I don’t know what we can ask of them when they are forced to do this absolute nonsense show. Why, why is this considered a great piece of theatre? The only thing I can think of is, it’s about people waiting for the sweet release of death and when you watch it, it’s such torture that the audience feels the yearning for death along with the characters. Is that it, that the show so successfully makes the audience feel what the characters feel so that they too anticipate sweet release from the torment of this show? Is that what he was going for, because if so, man, well done Sammy, what a gottamn masterpiece of pain you’ve created. It’s a f-ing triumph. If he didn’t want us to feel that death was preferable to watching this show for much longer, then I, along with everyone who left, missed something.
INFORMATION
Rough for Theatre II was just under a half hour, which means your interval bathroom break comes when you don’t need it, adding to the whole torture vibe of the evening. Endgame is then an hour and half, which is the exact amount of time it’s safe to watch this show for before one loses one’s mind.
The Old Vic renovation is fine – there’s still not enough room in the lobby (what a mess) but the bathrooms in the basement (where you go if you sit in the stalls, so get an aisle towards the back if you need) are better and bigger. Also, they are not defined by gender, just by whether they contain stalls or urinals, which is how every bathroom should be since it’s great for everyone (except men who need to go #2) (hey that’s what Beckett is with this show!).
STAGE DOOR
Like all Danny Rad shows, people were SPRINTING to the stage door in droves, so I skipped out on adding ‘trampled by horrible crowds’ to the night’s list of agonies. (Also what was I gonna say to them, yeesh.)
Rose at the Park Theatre is moving, heartbreaking, and overly ambitious
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show just feels right to talk about during the High Holidays.
The first act of Rose is riveting theatre. Martin Sherman’s two-hander (that’s one actor) doesn’t feel like theatre at all; it feels like you are listening to your (probably not your your, statistically speaking) Jewish grandmother (but decades ago) recount her harrowing life of persecution. It’s written well, so that it keeps moving forward at the right pace and keeps interest up, and it’s performed exceptionally, by Dame Maureen Lipman who if she wasn’t already a dame would be made a dame for how dame good she is in this.
Telling her story, the Dame’s Rose starts in the 1920s as a little Ukrainian girl growing up with a dying dad and a severe mom as pogroms hit her shtetl. She moves to the big city of Warsaw to help her brother and his new wife and to flee the violence, but then of course violence starts there and they get moved into the infamous ghetto, and then it’s the Holocaust big time and it’s heartbreak after heartbreak and you’re like how much shit can one single woman face and you realize how many single people experienced all this suffering and it is A. LOT.
And yet, it’s not done in a way that’s just a sadness dump, which is so easily could be. Or as a ‘look how bad we’ve had it’ dump (though holy hell it’s true). In telling her history, she exemplifies all the great things about Jewishness: the humor, the darker humor, the argumentativeness, the love of playing devil’s advocate (it’s called something different in Jewish obviously but not sure what), the physical communication styles (not just Italians!), the strength, the community, and of course the importance of memories and how memory shapes us. This tale is meaningful for having us remember the history, and also for being so unapologetically Jewish.
All in the first hour plus, we cover the pogroms of the 1920s, the Holocaust, the post-Holocaust camps that many countries were responsible for – like the British, stop lying about how great they were – and then the struggle for war refugees to get to the promised land, Israel, and all the forces – like the British – that forcibly, often fatally, stopped them. I’m sure there are many people in each audience that don’t realize just how insanely awful good-seeming nations were to the Jews after the war ended, and that British soldiers eagerly killed survivors rather than let them step onto the land they were indigenous to because of the British Mandate and their complicity in the massacres of the Jewish minority population (if you don’t know all about this history but say things like ‘the current situation is not complicated!’ then I don’t know how to help you). But Rose survives all this, barely, losing everyone she knows and loves to be the one who makes it. Her recounting of what happened to her daughter is so raw yet so subtle, it feels intrusive to listen to. She builds a new family, she finds success, she grows older, all in the first act. Honestly, when the first act ended I thought it was the end of the 2 and 1/2 hour show and I did amazingly at holding my bladder. But no, all of that happens in just one act somehow. It’s the kind of interval where a lot of people just sit silently (while I climb over them to get to the toilet).
Man I’m going on about the first act, huh. It’s because it was special. It would have been something if that was the whole show, this tale of one woman’s strength through persecution and suffering to represent so many similar tales that it’s an amalgam of. The second act, though, tries to do too much. For a show that starts with the pogroms of the 1920s, it is insane that it also tries to cover the modern crisis in the Middle East. This attempt feels like one meant to appease – who, I have no idea – by saying ‘we realize that in talking about Jews all night we better share the other side!’, the other side of what being the important question, but I got that feeling, like they felt the need to both-sides the topic of Jewish oppression. Of course, a full and honest (and well-informed) look at the crisis would be important, but it felt tacked on, a weird addition to this particular show, and like a sort of apology for taking up all this time making a fuss about Jewish suffering. Also, on a dramatic level, it was a strange turnabout from being all about Rose’s journey from her perspective, being directly in all this terrible action and direct suffering, to then have her tell us thirdhand about what’s happening to other people via people related to her. It would be nearly impossible for what feels like a weirdly intentioned CYA addendum to have the same emotional impact or the same integrity as the personal part that came before, and so of course it doesn’t.
INFORMATION
The show runs 2 1/2 hours.
The Park Theatre is an absolute shit show. The circle/mezz level uses those terrible seats, I don’t know what it’s called, where you don’t have your own seat but squeeze onto a longer row kind of jawn with strangers and your ENTIRE ROW has to stand up and lift the seat for anyone to walk by because there’s no legroom. Also, the Park’s website seat map is a travesty because it shows aisles at the far ends but there’s no actual exit over there, and if I worked for the ADA I would sue them for that. ALSO what kind of theatre has a bar space as its only entry/exit and PUTS A BIG LONG TABLE RIGHT IN THE CENTER OF THAT SPACE? a fire hazard omfg anyway thank god the show was good because I am probably not going to be invited back after this rant.
