Lungs but Socially Distanced: The Perfect Play for a Pandemic, Though Not a Perfect Playby Randi / July 9, 2020It’s Theatre Thursday y’all!!!! We haven’t had a #TT in literally what 7 months and I regret that verily. This was written before the attempted coup in the USA! Clearly! Who can do anything today!
BEEN SO LONG, mes babies! I’ve been watching a lot of streaming theatre, obviously, as that plus bread is the only thing getting us through secluded life in this hellscape. But I hadn’t really felt the need to write about most of what I’ve been watching. (Also I am just so tired.) AND THEN CAME A LITTLE RAT NAMED REMY and the world was like oooh and I was like yeahhh and Tituss was like SAAAAANG! So here we are.
In all of history, there have been three incredible ways that people have come together to prove that when we remember what community means, we can achieve remarkable things. First is the way Americans came out for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris in November (and how the world rallied around Gritty, obviously). Second, the way Georgians shoved a big hell no up Mitch Mcfuckfaceturtlecud’s arse to elect Reverend Warnock and my lil Shabbat treat to the Senate. The third way is how yoots on TikTok took a brilliant idea for a new musical and forking RAN with it, running so far that the Broadway community had to take notice and had to MAKE IT HAPPEN. Thanks to TikTok-ing yoots, the world saw a workshoppy benefit concert version of what was once just a funny meme-ish thing to have fun with online: Ratatouille the Musical.
When you think about it, it’s a no-brainer to make a musical version of such a great Pixar film. There’s a cute little rat protagonist, his goofy ginger friend who is Parisian but has an American accent even though his coworkers have French ones, and a slew of rich side characters who need big musical numbers perfect for an endless list of our best character actors. Sure it would be more difficult to stage the concept of a rat hiding in the chef’s hat of a young man and controlling him via hair pulls than it was to draw it in an animated movie but the magic of theatre can solve that problem! Probably! So even though it was quite the lovely surprise to see the Ratatoosical become a real thing, with real theatre people and backers and promoters involved, it’s not a huge surprise that this idea took off in the first place.
The benefit concert/edited Zoom video, presented last weekend via TodayTix (now branded as TomorrowTix), had all the joy and excitement from the collaborative creative process of the TikTok days but amplified it with the help of a stellar cast and some impressive songs. Our star, Remy the Rat, was none other that Tituss Burgess, one of the funniest ever actors with one of the most gorgeous voices – and highest belts, like seriously, how do you belt that high?? He was inspired casting, as was Andrew Barth Feldman, one of the replacement Evans Hansen, as Linguini. Listen, I don’t mean this in anything but a positive way, but no one has ever looked as much like anything as Andrew looks like that stringbean wide-eyed ginger cartoon. To go even further, he definitely did his homework and watched the movie a whole bunch because he was making cartoon-Linguini’s exact facial expressions. It was uncanny and amazing. I would love to see most of this cast stick with any further development, but Tituss and Andrew are definitely necessary.
I was happy to see that one of the composers involved is Daniel Mertzlufft, the dude whose Thanksgiving musical got a performance on James Corden’s show with Audra, Patti, Kristin, two Joshes, and more. Man he’s had quite the year and probably the most uniquely modern composer origin story ever. Leading the team of other TikTok composers – which includes Broadway actor Kevin Chamberlin, who plays Gusteau in the production, singing the song he wrote (what a talent) – was director Lucy Moss, a.k.a. the co-creator of Six, so like, okay this shit’s for real.
Along with real-life Linguini and Tituss, the A-list cast featured Ashley Park (doing a French accent almost as good as Emily in Paris (read: not)), Mary Testa (just the greatest, my god); Adam Lambert (cute for him!), Wayne Brady (did his damn PREPARATION with that costume and that trash can, good work), and my favorite person ever Andre de Shields, still going strong, fueled by sweet potatoes (he told me).
As for this concert itself, it was so much fun, even though the video kept buffering (or pretending to buffer but not actually doing anything to get better) even though our internet was fine. Oh well that’s the price we pay for getting theatrical content without sitting next to gross other people (ugh other people, gross). I loved how clear it was that everyone involved was a lover of musical theatre: Right from the start came the allusions and call-outs to the MT canon, like the early Sweeney Todd reference when Tituss sang “Not Remy! not Remy the rat!” Amazing! The musical highlight had to be Mary Testa’s Skinner singing the best song of the bunch, “I Knew I Smelled a Rat” – just SUCH a great double meaning my dudes! – by Sophia James. One of the funniest parts of dialogue was when Mary and Ashley performed what was essentially Dueling Banjos but for bad French accents. The big emotional numbers need some work to be more special and lose the generic lyrics and melodies, but of course the score needs work – this is like Round 1 and it’s already so enjoyable. It’ll be interesting to see what the book is like when it’s not just Tituss reciting plot summaries (although I’d pay to hear him do anything (except probably his geisha play ‘Kimono You Don’t’, since the Asian-American message board called him one of their top 5 Hitlers over that (“real Hitler wasn’t even on the list!”))). Man alive I hope that this show progresses further into a full-fledged stage production. With so much talent on display, both in terms of the fresh composers and the theatre stars, future iterations will be increasingly amazing and we have no choice but to love it.
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“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!
“Oppenheimer”: Decent But Unedited New London Play
The story of the American scientist who created the atomic bomb sounds like it could be either interesting or boring. The new London show achieves both. The first act is well done and pretty compelling, but the second act had seven end points and needs hella cutting. Still, it’s an interesting story that’s worth seeing – especially if they fix it before the next production.
We begin in Oppy’s (as his “friends” call him) house as his (repeatedly described non-monogamous) girlfriend hosts a drunken neurotic fundraiser for ‘the Spanish crisis’ in the early stages of World War II. Her agitated uneasy speeches show us 1) they’re all proud Communists and b) she, Jean, is quite mentally unstable. I wouldn’t want to be friends with these people. All pretentious in their highly educated status, showing how caring and cultured they are by getting drunk and dancing all night in the name of supporting the less fortunate who are being tortured, starved, and killed. It struck me as an ugly scene but extremely illustrative of this group of middle class people. I was told that Oppenheimer was famously hard to get along with, but instead of showing us that, we see that compared to his social circle he was the lovable puppy in the crowd, at least at the beginning. So that was a curious creative choice.
This whole show is pretty much questionable creative choices, actually. Considering how curious a choice of subject matter this wholly American story is for a small British production to begin with, every decision thereafter seemed rushed or at least ill-advised. The frequent little science lessons were the most effective and entertaining parts of the show, kind of like how the best part of “The Big Bang Theory” is any actual science you learn amid the drivel. As far as I could tell, the mini lectures and the discussion-based lessons Oppy’s protégés gave us were accurate. Then again I wouldn’t really know. I mean they were talking about the science behind the atom bomb. If you really understood it you would have been there. When they talked about science, the play was at its most natural and interesting. Then again I liked school. We learn about atom composition, atom splitting, all kinds of things. Through these lessons and science-focused conversations, we learn with them that Germans split the atom, letting loose a whole bunch of crap and energy. Our Murkan scientists freak the f out, as you do, and realized holy crap, this could lead to enormous explosions to end all explosions, possibly igniting the earth’s atmosphere, or destroying the earth, or at least countries! Then they realized, holy crap, we really need to get ahead of the Germans on this so we win the war. That was at least one of the accurate points, that they were always racing to get ahead of the Germans, whom we assumed were indeed ahead of us, when in fact they knew pretty much nothing the whole time.
Things pick up from here, as Oppy gathers the finest minds in science (or at least northern California), then the military takes over as it does, and the whole shebang becomes the super secret Manhattan Project.
The military’s involvement/control is obviously a mixed blessing. They get resources, power, land, and uranium, but also lots of bullshit and awfulness. Any red-leaning brains (everyone we met in the beginning) get shipped off to war or to Alaska because Murka was awful afear’d back then of people who may have thought differently. The interference with (or, often, hindrance of) science in the name of democracy is an extremely frustrating and terrifying thing that the military enjoyed doing. Good thing the government lets science be now!
As more progress is made on the bomb, Oppy becomes more and more of a righteous jackass, as the weight of what he’s doing weighs on him. Or doesn’t. We hear a lot of big speeches about how Oppy is lead and ytterbium and iron, stable at the core, and that he carries the responsibility without it breaking him. I guess it was supposed to be an ironic statement of stability? or disaffectedness? Because obviously it broke or at least injured him. But that wasn’t clear. It was more of a disconnect between words and actions than it was irony. Like unintentional disjunction. (I’m looking at you, Mr. Director.)
A lot is said about how Oppy was chosen to lead the project because the military could control or at least predict his behavior. As they wanted, he broke off contact with his commie brother for a long time, he turned friends in to the inquisitors, he shipped off some of his best students to war and refused to help them when they returned. He got real jerky like. I mean, if you were spending the prime of your life devoted to ending others’ lives, you’d prob go dark like Emma’s doing right now on “Once Upon A Time” (best show ever??). but the repeated thesis that he was unbreakable (they alive, dammit!) and resilient came across more incorrect than poignant.
At least Oppy was played by a decent actor, John Heffernan. I thought he was pretty good and then when I recognized him from the new BBC series “Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell” (which I was lucky enough to see a sneak preview of recently because I’m so important in the London entertainment scene) my thoughts were confirmed because only the best people are in that show. But there was a lot of not-so-decent acting on display here. I have issues with mainstem West End shows lately, so this (it’s like an off-West End production) had more. Everyone seemed a slight notch below where they should have been, especially with their American accents. Say your freaking r’s! And every time anyone said the word ‘sir’ but with another word coming after it, it became ‘suh’ and just ugh come on. Also no one could say ‘apparently’ without it getting super loose in the vowels when in American the vowels need to be constricted. I feel like dialect coaches are not valued anymore.
Everything just seemed a little jumbled, likely due to direction. Funnily enough, at the beginning, I despised Oppy’s girlfriend Jean and his friend’s wife Charlotte with the weird New England WASP country club/faux Katherine Hepburn accent. But by the end, these two actresses, Catherine Steadman and Sandy Foster, were my favorites. I don’t know if they got better with more meaty scenes, if I got nicer, or if it was just the power of comparison working in their favor.
One person I did not like was Oppy’s wife Kitty, played by Thomasin Rand. Maybe because that name is ludicrous, but I couldn’t get a handle on her. I don’t know if you’re supposed to hate her of if you’re supposed to feel bad for her because her husband is so preoccupied and she’s always (always) pregnant (and drinking to the point of alcoholism and smoking like a chimney throughout), but I didn’t. Or maybe her hatefulness comes from her husband’s stated lack of ability to connect or form real bonds and she’s like I left that foppish but super polite British guy for this? (And yes we see the very awkward courtship between Oppy and Kitty as they have an affair, get pregnant, and then ask said British guy for a divorce. He, by the way, had the funniest accent in the whole play, which was odd because he’s the only one who gets to be his real nationality. It was like an American doing an over-the-top British accent but the actor was really British, so I loved it. I hope it was on purpose.)
Or maybe it’s because her husband may have been in love with another woman the whole time. His earlier love, Jean, was clearly always special to him and their deep connection seemed to have persisted until her unfortunate suicide. She was unable to deal with her chemically unbalanced mind and the FBI agents tapping her phone and sitting outside her house all day and night because of her political views and ties to Oppy. It was all very upsetting and tragic. After her death, we get more reason to despise Oppy and Kitty as they agree that suicide is extremely self-centered and that Jean was super selfish for killing herself. At least they agreed on something? I wonder how accurate this portrayal was, because that’s a big black mark to paint on a person’s character. Do not like.
I wonder how accurate all of it was, actually. If all of Oppy’s contacts were under government surveillance for their political views, if the general in charge was really somehow everywhere all the time and in every important science discussion, if the captain on the project talked in an exaggerated American accent like he was just pulled from the set of “A Few Good Men”, if one of Oppy’s protégés apparently learned his American accent from the aforementioned “Big Bang Theory” (he sounded exactly like Sheldon and was my fave part). One of my favorite characters was Edward Teller, the Hungarian scientist who created the hydrogen bomb, or ‘super’. In the show, he was pushing Oppy to focus on the super during WW2, which seemed early but was apparently accurate, despite no real work being done on it until after the war. Ben Allen, the actor playing Teller, was pretty funny at times and made Teller one of the most sympathetic characters onstage, which I’m not sure was the intent given that Teller in real life was kind of a lunatic. So I’m told, I don’t know.
The first act had a lot of good learning and commies and New Mexico and more commies and excitement and stuff. The second act, hoo boy, it kind of fell apart in ways you could not imagine. First of all, at 1.5 hours each act, the play was way too long for what they did with the time. Do shows not have editors anymore? Act II could easily be 30-40 minutes shorter. Here’s what they should do: First, cut the kid. When we are supposed to assume they’ve dropped the first bomb, a child climbs out of the sunroof of the bomb, which is on stage, and he GIVES A MONOLOGUE. A kid that we have not met before, just this random punk kid with THE WORST American accent who has a few ridiculously pretentious paragraphs to recite about life and death and ephemerality maybe and who knows what and of course he messed up a line. He had literally one job. CUT THAT. It was nonsense and it brought the show to a screeching halt and not only added nothing but significantly detracted from the impact. I almost screamed for them to get the hook.
Next, cut the really freaky deaky and out of place bongo-drum circle and drug-induced drunken rave that followed the first test run of the bomb that occurred UNDER THE BOMB ACTING AS A DISCO BALL. I kid you not. I’m sure this wackadoo scene may have worked in some incarnation of this play, but it was not the one I saw. You can’t have a straight serious play and then throw in one super trippy conceptual scene for shits and giggles. It was completely weird with every character giving mini pretentious monologues about, well, life and death and ephemerality and who knows what while the rest of the cast was waving their arms in prayer to the gods of explosions in the fire and doing tribal chants like they were in a goddamn regional production of “Hair” while on acid. For like 10 minutes, sandwiched between serious science and black & white scenes, we uncomfortably watched this rave while the actors said lines like “The sun shone brightly like a diamond.” Well that might be Rhianna but you get my point. Omg.
Then, cut the next false ending of big grand speeches (yes there are more) that are terribly written and unnatural in Oppy and Bob’s classroom. I REALLY didn’t need to hear that bit about the horse Bob saw in Hiroshima after the bomb dropped. It was really graphic and disturbing but without the slightest need for it. I really didn’t appreciate that. So many sentences in this back half of Act II no one would ever say in real life, like overly wordy high school English essay kind of writing, when you think you sound smart but it actually makes you sound dumber.
I was thinking, such an important story should have been done better. But, then I thought, wait, is it such an important story? It is necessary to know the guy who built the atomic bomb and what not, but is this section of his life story necessary? Do we need to know he was kind of a jerk and had shitty friends and was a shitty friend and suffered a lot? And if so, why? His brilliant mind helped us do massacring of a newfangled variety, which the world is thankful for in a grotesque way, but was he necessary? Even his wife asks the general at some point why they didn’t pick Einstein or another great scientist who could have done it. The answer in this show is that the leader of this project needed this project to be his career highlight, and the other big name scientists already had other significant achievements in their careers. Cool. A more interesting story would have continued to the government’s turning on him after the war and their awful investigation into his political views, kind of like how the British government turned on Alan Turing after the war after he freaking saved their lives those ungrateful ignorant assholes. God knows in three hours would could have covered all of that. But we didn’t really get to it, probably because of all the unnecessary speechifying. So there were some really interesting choices made in this play. I’m not sure they worked, but despite all the weirdness it was still pretty good. I just wish they had hired an editor.
AUDIENCE: CONGRATULATIONS, Oppenheimer audience! This was the first time in many years that I did not see a cell phone being used during the show. I mean, that is pretty remarkable. However, there was this awful young couple behind me who talked the entire time. And I mean the entire time. I regret not saying something at intermission but I feared them cutting my hair during Act II or something. I did give them the good old death stare a few times though. I am proud of that.
Things pick up from here, as Oppy gathers the finest minds in science (or at least northern California), then the military takes over as it does, and the whole shebang becomes the super secret Manhattan Project.
The military’s involvement/control is obviously a mixed blessing. They get resources, power, land, and uranium, but also lots of bullshit and awfulness. Any red-leaning brains (everyone we met in the beginning) get shipped off to war or to Alaska because Murka was awful afear’d back then of people who may have thought differently. The interference with (or, often, hindrance of) science in the name of democracy is an extremely frustrating and terrifying thing that the military enjoyed doing. Good thing the government lets science be now!
As more progress is made on the bomb, Oppy becomes more and more of a righteous jackass, as the weight of what he’s doing weighs on him. Or doesn’t. We hear a lot of big speeches about how Oppy is lead and ytterbium and iron, stable at the core, and that he carries the responsibility without it breaking him. I guess it was supposed to be an ironic statement of stability? or disaffectedness? Because obviously it broke or at least injured him. But that wasn’t clear. It was more of a disconnect between words and actions than it was irony. Like unintentional disjunction. (I’m looking at you, Mr. Director.)
A lot is said about how Oppy was chosen to lead the project because the military could control or at least predict his behavior. As they wanted, he broke off contact with his commie brother for a long time, he turned friends in to the inquisitors, he shipped off some of his best students to war and refused to help them when they returned. He got real jerky like. I mean, if you were spending the prime of your life devoted to ending others’ lives, you’d prob go dark like Emma’s doing right now on “Once Upon A Time” (best show ever??). but the repeated thesis that he was unbreakable (they alive, dammit!) and resilient came across more incorrect than poignant.
At least Oppy was played by a decent actor, John Heffernan. I thought he was pretty good and then when I recognized him from the new BBC series “Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell” (which I was lucky enough to see a sneak preview of recently because I’m so important in the London entertainment scene) my thoughts were confirmed because only the best people are in that show. But there was a lot of not-so-decent acting on display here. I have issues with mainstem West End shows lately, so this (it’s like an off-West End production) had more. Everyone seemed a slight notch below where they should have been, especially with their American accents. Say your freaking r’s! And every time anyone said the word ‘sir’ but with another word coming after it, it became ‘suh’ and just ugh come on. Also no one could say ‘apparently’ without it getting super loose in the vowels when in American the vowels need to be constricted. I feel like dialect coaches are not valued anymore.
Everything just seemed a little jumbled, likely due to direction. Funnily enough, at the beginning, I despised Oppy’s girlfriend Jean and his friend’s wife Charlotte with the weird New England WASP country club/faux Katherine Hepburn accent. But by the end, these two actresses, Catherine Steadman and Sandy Foster, were my favorites. I don’t know if they got better with more meaty scenes, if I got nicer, or if it was just the power of comparison working in their favor.
One person I did not like was Oppy’s wife Kitty, played by Thomasin Rand. Maybe because that name is ludicrous, but I couldn’t get a handle on her. I don’t know if you’re supposed to hate her of if you’re supposed to feel bad for her because her husband is so preoccupied and she’s always (always) pregnant (and drinking to the point of alcoholism and smoking like a chimney throughout), but I didn’t. Or maybe her hatefulness comes from her husband’s stated lack of ability to connect or form real bonds and she’s like I left that foppish but super polite British guy for this? (And yes we see the very awkward courtship between Oppy and Kitty as they have an affair, get pregnant, and then ask said British guy for a divorce. He, by the way, had the funniest accent in the whole play, which was odd because he’s the only one who gets to be his real nationality. It was like an American doing an over-the-top British accent but the actor was really British, so I loved it. I hope it was on purpose.)
Or maybe it’s because her husband may have been in love with another woman the whole time. His earlier love, Jean, was clearly always special to him and their deep connection seemed to have persisted until her unfortunate suicide. She was unable to deal with her chemically unbalanced mind and the FBI agents tapping her phone and sitting outside her house all day and night because of her political views and ties to Oppy. It was all very upsetting and tragic. After her death, we get more reason to despise Oppy and Kitty as they agree that suicide is extremely self-centered and that Jean was super selfish for killing herself. At least they agreed on something? I wonder how accurate this portrayal was, because that’s a big black mark to paint on a person’s character. Do not like.
I wonder how accurate all of it was, actually. If all of Oppy’s contacts were under government surveillance for their political views, if the general in charge was really somehow everywhere all the time and in every important science discussion, if the captain on the project talked in an exaggerated American accent like he was just pulled from the set of “A Few Good Men”, if one of Oppy’s protégés apparently learned his American accent from the aforementioned “Big Bang Theory” (he sounded exactly like Sheldon and was my fave part). One of my favorite characters was Edward Teller, the Hungarian scientist who created the hydrogen bomb, or ‘super’. In the show, he was pushing Oppy to focus on the super during WW2, which seemed early but was apparently accurate, despite no real work being done on it until after the war. Ben Allen, the actor playing Teller, was pretty funny at times and made Teller one of the most sympathetic characters onstage, which I’m not sure was the intent given that Teller in real life was kind of a lunatic. So I’m told, I don’t know.
The first act had a lot of good learning and commies and New Mexico and more commies and excitement and stuff. The second act, hoo boy, it kind of fell apart in ways you could not imagine. First of all, at 1.5 hours each act, the play was way too long for what they did with the time. Do shows not have editors anymore? Act II could easily be 30-40 minutes shorter. Here’s what they should do: First, cut the kid. When we are supposed to assume they’ve dropped the first bomb, a child climbs out of the sunroof of the bomb, which is on stage, and he GIVES A MONOLOGUE. A kid that we have not met before, just this random punk kid with THE WORST American accent who has a few ridiculously pretentious paragraphs to recite about life and death and ephemerality maybe and who knows what and of course he messed up a line. He had literally one job. CUT THAT. It was nonsense and it brought the show to a screeching halt and not only added nothing but significantly detracted from the impact. I almost screamed for them to get the hook.
Next, cut the really freaky deaky and out of place bongo-drum circle and drug-induced drunken rave that followed the first test run of the bomb that occurred UNDER THE BOMB ACTING AS A DISCO BALL. I kid you not. I’m sure this wackadoo scene may have worked in some incarnation of this play, but it was not the one I saw. You can’t have a straight serious play and then throw in one super trippy conceptual scene for shits and giggles. It was completely weird with every character giving mini pretentious monologues about, well, life and death and ephemerality and who knows what while the rest of the cast was waving their arms in prayer to the gods of explosions in the fire and doing tribal chants like they were in a goddamn regional production of “Hair” while on acid. For like 10 minutes, sandwiched between serious science and black & white scenes, we uncomfortably watched this rave while the actors said lines like “The sun shone brightly like a diamond.” Well that might be Rhianna but you get my point. Omg.
Then, cut the next false ending of big grand speeches (yes there are more) that are terribly written and unnatural in Oppy and Bob’s classroom. I REALLY didn’t need to hear that bit about the horse Bob saw in Hiroshima after the bomb dropped. It was really graphic and disturbing but without the slightest need for it. I really didn’t appreciate that. So many sentences in this back half of Act II no one would ever say in real life, like overly wordy high school English essay kind of writing, when you think you sound smart but it actually makes you sound dumber.
I was thinking, such an important story should have been done better. But, then I thought, wait, is it such an important story? It is necessary to know the guy who built the atomic bomb and what not, but is this section of his life story necessary? Do we need to know he was kind of a jerk and had shitty friends and was a shitty friend and suffered a lot? And if so, why? His brilliant mind helped us do massacring of a newfangled variety, which the world is thankful for in a grotesque way, but was he necessary? Even his wife asks the general at some point why they didn’t pick Einstein or another great scientist who could have done it. The answer in this show is that the leader of this project needed this project to be his career highlight, and the other big name scientists already had other significant achievements in their careers. Cool. A more interesting story would have continued to the government’s turning on him after the war and their awful investigation into his political views, kind of like how the British government turned on Alan Turing after the war after he freaking saved their lives those ungrateful ignorant assholes. God knows in three hours would could have covered all of that. But we didn’t really get to it, probably because of all the unnecessary speechifying. So there were some really interesting choices made in this play. I’m not sure they worked, but despite all the weirdness it was still pretty good. I just wish they had hired an editor.
AUDIENCE: CONGRATULATIONS, Oppenheimer audience! This was the first time in many years that I did not see a cell phone being used during the show. I mean, that is pretty remarkable. However, there was this awful young couple behind me who talked the entire time. And I mean the entire time. I regret not saying something at intermission but I feared them cutting my hair during Act II or something. I did give them the good old death stare a few times though. I am proud of that.
