The Dumb Waiter at the Old Vic: I Try Pinter Again!
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is the recent livestream of The Dumb Waiter from The Old Vic’s In Camera series.
Man, I feel like over the years I have seen every Pinter play (and piece of Mahler’s) and every time I’m like “…yeah okay.” Like I GET IT (do I?) he’s a genius and they’re all classics (really?) but it’s just…not my thing. The Dumb Waiter reinforced my whole ‘I mean sure’ vibe about Pinter.
The Dumb Waiter is widely considered one of Harry’s best shortypops, and I did appreciate that it was only about an hour long. The four-hander (that’s right) stars the very fine duo of Daniel Mays and Daniel Thewlis (who we enjoyed in Harry Potter and the Dude who Turns into a Werewolf) as two apparent hit men who wait in a prison cell-like room for instructions on their next target. I’m not the biggest fan of hit men, so at the start it’s an uphill battle for me to care about anything besides wondering if someone else in their universe could turn them in without using or glorifying the role of cops.
Instead of that, we had these two jackwagons sitting, reading the paper out loud, pacing, &c. And then they hear something in the wall and it’s a working dumbwaiter! Like for moving food between floors! Fun! Houses should have these! They start receiving messages – an envelope under the door, and then an order through the dumbwaiter. They’re like ‘well we don’t have any of these items’ so naturally they send back up whatever snacks they had on them. LIKE, WHY. I guess this humorous turn is kind of funny but the nonsense of it felt inconsistent. The men keep communicating with an unseen someone at the other end of the dumbwaiter, without really knowing who it is or what’s going on. Who is giving the instructions? Where are these messages coming from? These and more question will not be answered and will stand in for deep meaning!
I guess the whole twisty point of what, not knowing who you can trust? the destructiveness of power? everyone suffering under an unjust system? could have worth, but it had the emotional impact of a faux-motivational poster without supporting material helping any maxim feel earned. It kind of felt like Pinter trying to be Beckett. A loose plotline, slow pacing. a bit convoluted. As ever, I feel like Pinter plays are best appreciated by people who say ‘wow it really makes you think’ in a way that lets you know they have no idea what they are thinking.
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Broadway’s ‘Great Comet’: Natasha, Pierre, & the Pretty Fun Show of 2017
So that’s the spectacle, what about the actual show? The slice of War & Peace it’s based on is literally the least War & Peace-y part, in that it is just like any modern romantic comedy/tragedy storyline you’d find in a modern movie starring someone named Kate. I guess that is a strong case for why they chose it, but it just seemed like a missed opportunity to take something even more out of the box from such a creative premise, instead of taking that creative premise and finding the most humdrum employment of it possible. Natasha, our heroine (played by Denee Benton), is beautiful and young and privileged, and kind of annoying because of it. She arrives on the Moscow scene right before Napoleon’s invasion and subsequent burning of the city. Her fiancé, the handsome Andrey, is off at war and she is like so sad cuz she luvs him. That’s how I imagine she would express her feelings if she typed them; she’s that sort of young and ‘in love’. And flighty. She and her cousin/best friend Sonya are hosted by Marya, Natasha’s godmother, a big deal socialite in Moscow. On the scene (pretty much just the opera, where else did they go back then (also NO ONE actually watched the opera they all just gabbed and socialized how awful)), Natasha meets Anatole, a huge player if there ever was one. He’s blonde and dreamy, so we are told, and he declares he must have her. Natasha falls super in lust with him and, with the push from Anatole’s conniving evil sister Helene, they make a plan to run away together, even though she’s engaged. Luckily, meek lil Sonya finds out the plan to elope and does everything she can to stop it, since it would mean absolute ruin for her cousin and her entire future. Meanwhile, Pierre just kind of watches the world happen around him, as he drinks and jumps into the story every once in a while. And also has a duel with Anatole’s friend Dolokhov but it’s not very significant, at least in this telling. It ranks 4th in importance and drama among duels currently happening on Broadway.
You might be thinking right now, wow that’s a lot of characters and relationships to get a handle on. Don’t worry, the entire opening number is introducing you to the characters and wisely repeating the most important ones the most. I adore this opener. It’s one of the best songs in the score as far as examples of what Malloy was trying to accomplish go. We start by having Pierre, on his accordion, tell us that there’s a war going on and Andrey is there, at war, and so he’s not ‘here’ in Moscow with this crowd. Then we meet each of the characters by having them introduce themselves with their most distinguishable trait. Natasha, whose defining characteristic is that she’s young, goes first. Sonya, her ‘good’ cousin (I’d have gone with meek), goes next, and then we repeat back to Natasha. Then ‘old-school’ Marya, then Sonya repeats her phrase, then Natasha repeats hers. Et cetera, et cetera, so that the main characters repeat theirs the most so you remember more who they are, as opposed to the rickshaw driver who goes last or Andrey’s crazy old father Bolkonsky or plain religious sister Mary who don’t really matter much to the plot. It’s a wonderful opening that does a great job establishing the fun, kind of meta, kind of snarky tone of the show, plus introducing all the characters, with one of the most enjoyable overall songs of the show. It’s rousing and joyous and moves really fast and kind of breathlessly, and you cannot help but grin throughout it. I cannot get out of my head “Anatole is hot, Marya is old-school, Sonya’s good, Natasha’s young and Andrey isn’t heeeere…..Helene is a slut, Anatole is hot, Marya is old-school, Sonya’s good, Natasha’s young and Andrey isn’t heeeere.” There’s also a character diagram in the playbill to help you remember who is related to who and who loves who and blah blah I think it’s unnecessary if you have basic comprehension skills but hey that’s not most people, we know now.
The joy of the opening is consolidated by seamlessly moving into Pierre’s introductory number, which comes after the Prologue ends by asking where the heck he is and what he’s up to. Whereas the Prologue has the rest of the big cast roaming around the theatre causing a ruckus amid the bright house lights, left on, and getting the entire audience pumped, Pierre’s song immediately shifts into an intimate spotlight, just on him playing the piano, just on his tiny spot in the middle of the theatre. It’s as drastic a change you can make from the sensory overload of the opener, and the gloriousness of it all is solidified when Grobester sings his first few lines. It’s a dark, brooding song and he sounded insane on it. Most of the thrill of seeing this show, at least for me and people who have ears, is that we’re seeing Josh Groban perform live. He is as good as you can imagine except better, both in live singing and his acting. And his lil fat suit he’s wearing. The best part of the whole show (maybe true maybe an exaggeration but just a little) is (to paraphrase) when one character says Pierre is staying at home tonight and they show Josh in the pit saying something like “and I’m totally fine with that” and he pumps his fist in the air to weakly prove his point and it’s so hilarious.
Despite the high bar met by the first 15 or so minutes, the score and the book fail to keep up the momentum. It’s hard to write this kind of weird music, objectively ugly at times, and the composer should be commended for doing something so unique. But some of it is not very good, mostly the parts that should have been straight book scenes. A lot of is it literally repeating lines from the novel and singing them repeatedly to an uninspired tune, kind of like the characters are reading their own stage directions. And that’s the main problem with this show: that it doesn’t really work well as a sung-through book (book like the musical narrative structure/libretto, not the novel). There’s no reason for it, when the recitative parts feel dull and the music for them, the plain book parts, doesn’t add anything to the telling of the story. In fact, it takes away from it. And the boring, sometimes bothersome lyrics used in these sung-through book scenes creep into the main songs. At first it’s kind of cute, like aw it’s from the real novel, but it gets annoying and just makes it feel kind of cheapened. This is well on display early when Natasha and Sonya first arrive to Marya’s care, with lyrics like “I will kiss you on the cheek, she said, gazing at Marya with kind, glittering eyes…” and lots of “I blush, happily”. Oof and when Sonya and Natasha fight and Sonya doubles over and sings “Bursting into tears!” and then I did. And in the big Opera scene, when Natasha is introduced to Moscow society, and meets Anatole, and there’s a whole lot of talk about Natasha’s bare arms. It’s weird. It’s using an unnecessary number of words to describe what we can see – like a book does, only a book has to. That’s a huge flaw in the conversion from page to stage. Like, it’s not necessary to have multiple verses describing Natasha’s bare arms and shoulders or Helene as “beautiful, barely clothed, plump bare shoulders, and much exposed neck, round which she wears a double string of pearls” WHEN WE CAN SEE THAT. It’s wasting the storytelling potential on visuals when it has no reason to, except to be a constant, blatant, unneeded reminder that it’s based on a book.
The music, as opposed to the lyrics, has more impressive moments, though the dissonance gets a little hard to enjoy. But the discord is never used to greater effect than when Natasha goes to meet her fiance’s family. Andrey’s father, old Prince Bolkonsky, refuses to even greet her, and his plain sister Mary is a religious nut who initially does not like her at all. Although the lyrics are a little more of the same way-too-direct nature (“And from the first glance, I do not like Natasha. Too fashionably dressed, frivolous and vain” “And he looked at her once, head to toe, and left muttering”), the notes that Natasha and Mary sing create perfect dissonance (an actual musical term though I don’t know if it’s perfect or imperfect for music purposes but it sounded perfect in the great sense) and they lean into it so hard that it’s a fantastic example of music conveying the story in itself. They clash, they don’t get along, and that clash is apparent from the too-close notes they are each singing, creating an aural nails on the chalkboard feeling. It’s so powerful that it makes me even madder that they ruined it by saying first that they didn’t like the other. Like, duh. Let the music do some of your work.
It’s really a shame, thinking about it now, that it’s a sung-through book, which is so hard to do well. Like, for example, “Hamilton” is a sung-through book. That shit works because it’s amazing. The book scenes here are not up to par and it would have been less of a let-down musically if I were only considering the strong main songs as the score, and not all the recitative lamity. (I made up that word. Long A.) As it stands, it’s not my best score of the season, but it might have put up a fight if it didn’t have the sung book scenes dragging it down. Some of the songs are really fantastic. I’m thinking of Pierre’s first song, even though it’s called “Pierre”. I had chills, and it wasn’t just because Grobester is the best. (Even though he is. He is as impressive in his Broadway debut as you could ever hope. He shows so much skill in acting that we never really knew he had, and I cannot wait to see what he does next. He better never leave theatre.) I’m thinking of the incredibly haunting and beautiful “No One Else”, when Natasha remembers when she first fell in love with Andrey and prophetically sings “I’ll never be this happy again” (true). Denee Benton was lovely but I couldn’t help but think of how wonderful Phillipa must have been in this role. (Listen to her sing this song on the original cast recording; it’s beautiful.) I’m thinking of possibly my favorite song (at least to belt in the shower) from the show, “Charming”, when evil, conniving Helene uses flattery to convince the naïve Natasha that it’s totes fine to dance and flirt with Anatole even though she’s engaged. The funniest part about this song is that Helene says the word for ‘charming’ in French – charmante – but says it wrong like ‘shante’ (sometimes you can hear the ‘arm’ but not really). So Dave Malloy apparently just remembered his high school French incorrectly and the rhythm of the song was already set so he kept it as is. It also really works for Helene to be so confident in her ignorance. Amber Gray, as Helene, is probably my favorite female in this cast. She is so seductive and terrible (“sexual and violent”) and she made this like Cruel Intentions if it were a three-minute song. Actually, that’s exactly what her character is like, Sarah Michelle Gellar in that movie, while sounding reminiscent of Daphne Ruben-Vega’s “I-have-vocal-damage-but-I-can-still-hit-all-the-notes” (to paraphrase Seth Rudetksy) rasping yet amazing voice. And I’m thinking of the fantastic group number “Letters”, which (finally) seemed to listen to my requirement for opening the second act of shows on a super strong note. In “Letters”, we’re told how Natasha and Andrey and Anatole and Pierre and really everyone has been discussing their feelings and relationships through written correspondence, which was something people used to do, as we’re told, “in 19th century Russia, we write letters we write letters. We put down in writing what is happening in our minds.” This is a great example of Malloy’s straightforward, 5th-grade-reading-level lyrics really working well when the music and melody and vision of the scene are all strong. I love at the end when the ensemble repeating ‘a love letter, a love letter’ over and over sounds like an army marching towards something ominous. It’s such an awesome song.
A really cool aspect of the show is the out of the box casting. Every cast member seems to have been specifically chosen to be an important part of the show, instead of how it usually feels with cookie cutter dancers, and it gives us actors who don’t seem traditional for Broadway at all. I didn’t recognize any of the ensemble, and I liked how diverse they were in all ways. They seemed like real crazy Russian people at a rave about to start riots. I have to mention Lucas Steele as Anatole, who is so blond and so pale that he seems like a Superman villain but more handsome and with a really strong belt. Most notably out-of-the-box was Brittain Ashford as Sonya, who sings a beautifully aching song called “Sonya Alone”, with her Melissa Etheridge with a lisp while headlining at Lilith Fair with her lesbian life partner holding her hand and making her tea as naked women prance about with flowers in their hair and sway to the sitar music in the warm breeze as the sun sets over the mountains upon which a cow is giving painless birth to a calf blessed with freedom…um, voice. She sounds like an old-timey folk singer, is what I’m saying. I still don’t know if I liked or hated her voice, but I definitely like that she’s different.
The show was paced pretty well (until the end), and despite rolling my eyes a few times at the stage-direction lyrics, it managed to keep up the spectacle-aspect by throwing the ensemble back into the balconies every so often and rousing the audience. There’s also a really weird opera scene, when we see some of the opera the characters are watching, and it’s like the most fever dream dancing behind a blacklight you can imagine. Really weird. Once Natasha and Anatole have their plans thwarted, and Natasha is all ruined and stuff, it started to drag. There’s a lot of Natasha moping around with crazy bug eyes and not much for the chorus to do, so it gets a little slow, especially because the story is kind of lacking. Like, she’s ruined, we get it, but she’s not really. (If you know the novel and the 90% of plot that doesn’t happen onstage, it’s hard to feel too bad for her.) Luckily, the performances are great, so it’s still a wonderful experience. But there’s so much potential for the book and score to live up to the staging and showiness of it all that it’s a tad disappointing that it doesn’t. Still, it’s a solid B overall instead of the A+ I thought it was going to be. If you have no expectations, that’s a really good score. And if you don’t mind tinny clang-clang-clang-went-the-trolley music.
Audience
You’d think for a show that is well sold (read: tickets are super expensive) that people would be better behaved and try to pay attention but nope that doesn’t matter anymore we are in a society where lots of people only think of themselves and the world two inches around them and no one else affected by their behavior matters. (There were some really rude adults who wouldn’t stop talking.)
Stage Door
I MET JOSH GROBAN
EDITOR’S NOTE: ONE YEAR AFTER SEEING THIS SHOW (DEC 30 2017)
HOLY FORKING SHIRTBALLS I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO WRONG ABOUT A SHOW IN MY LIFE. Great Comet is now one of my favorite pieces of theatre OF ALL TIME OF ALL TIME. It’s FORKING GENIUS. Guys, I wrote the above lukewarm review after seeing the show once and NEVER listening to the cast recording, except for the opening number which I said in the review is a great example of what Malloy was trying to accomplish like a fool like a FOOL! He wrote that song kind of as a joke! There’s so much more that blows my mind repeatedly. Listening to the album approximately 10000x has learnt me how incredibly brilliant the score is, both as a whole and in terms of single songs that stand out as should-be classics of sooo many genres. I think that so much of the greatness is uncovered with repeated listens and viewings, and going into the show cold and not knowing what was going on and not having time or space to appreciate the score is what kept audiences from loving it like they should have. I always LOVE going into a show cold – I constantly say that’s the best way to experience it – but I think this is the one time when that was the wrong move. Knowing the score and then having that background knowledge as a foundation to let you enjoy the sensory overload and the amazing choreography and staging would have been a much better plan. But I didn’t know. Now I wish so badly that I could see this show again; I think I would be completely and utterly enraptured with the genius evident on all fronts. Dammit I am shaking my fist so hard at the things I said above! Listen, some of the songs are hard to get into the first time or the first 10 times, like “Moscow”. But freaking push through it, because, for example, “Moscow” is now one of my favorites. Push through and then a barrier breaks and now I am completely hypnotized by the gloriousness. BEST EVER THE END.
Bridges at the Menier Chocolate Factory: A Disservice to the Music
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is The Bridges of Madison County at the Menier Chocolate Factory. Listen to the original cast album instead.
Jason Robert Brown’s nearly impeccable score for The Bridges of Madison County, one of the most gorgeous in musical theatre, begins with the riveting introduction “To Build a Home”, in which Francesca recounts leaving a war-torn Italy and building a life for the past few decades in farmland America with her U.S. soldier husband. As soon as this song began in the original production and redefined what the word ‘Iowa’ could be, you knew this show was going to be special. However, as soon as it begins in this particular production at the Menier Chocolate Factory, you know this show is going to be long. Francesca famously sings “This is Albany…this is Buffalo…this is Cleveland…this is South Bend…” as she travels deeper into the USA. I found myself rewriting these lyrics during the rest of the show: “This is tedious…this is terrible…this is wearisome…this is boring…” And I must remind you, this is one of my favorite musicals of all time.
Now, I’m a fan of Jenna Russell, a beloved fixture of London theatre (seriously though, it’s like the West End casts the same people over and over; where is the London Bernie Tesley when you need one?), but she and her costar Edward Baker-Duly (as the love interest Robert) are so miscast as to make you wonder if the casting directors were forking with everyone, or high. They’re definitely at least high, along with director Trevor Nunn. Yes, Nunn, the celebrated director who recently helmed a wonderful Fiddler at the Menier, is also the wrong fit for this show, making it longer (as you’d expect with him) but also mind-numbingly dull. In theory, the smaller theatre should work for this intimate show, but it just makes it easier to see what’s wrong.
If you don’t know Bridges, the whole point of this story is to watch two people fall in love when they shouldn’t, and to feel their chemistry and understand their deep love even though you know it shouldn’t exist and can’t last. Maybe you know the famous Meryl Streep-Crazy Old Man movie, maybe you know the book; if so, you know this is a paperbook romance kind of jawn and you gotta just lean in and love it. With the musical version, you feel their love through the music, this soaring, heartrending music that beautifully lets you understand their love and maybe think that it should exist after all. There’s not a lot of plot to that – the success of the musical relies entirely on watching the chemistry build between these two characters, which in turn relies entirely on expression through the music.
But when the score isn’t sung as it’s meant to be, then no emotion gets expressed, and no chemistry builds, and the whole foundation of the musical is lost, with nothing for anything else to build upon. The original stars, Kelli O’Hara and Steven Pasquale, are supremely beautiful people, which helped their insane chemistry set that stage on fire. But they also have some of the most powerfully gorgeous voices in the world, and they were so skillful at expressing a gamut of emotion and thoughtfulness through this music that they set new benchmarks in musical theatre. Here, the leads can barely eke out the right notes, and when they hit them, they do not soar; they are barely audible. The actors are also markedly older, which the show semi-acknowledges by changing the ‘for 18 years’ line in the opening number to ‘for 20 years’, although that’s not really it chief. The age increase works on paper, to have Francesca’s loneliness and longing even more long-standing, but it’s still simply the wrong actors. There is no passion, and this show relies on passion. The two have a bit of chemistry, but not the required bucketloads, and it only extends to each other and not to the audience. The entire first act is literally watching these two wrestle with their emotions (while the second is watching them literally wrestle) as their attraction builds and builds. Here, with nothing simmering on the stage, there’s literally nothing happening, nothing to watch, nothing to experience, and the first act is like watching paint dry. And with no soaring vocals, there’s no story to tell, no characters to build. For example, the second act song “Almost Real”, one of the most brilliant character backstory songs written, helps you understand everything Francesca ever thought and felt and how she made her decisions that led her here – if done right. (I also didn’t enjoy Nunn’s addition of having Chiara, Francesca’s sister, say the relevant lines while Francesca sang them.) It’s honestly a shame above all that these exceptional songs aren’t given their due.
The supporting cast fares much better, though how much of that is a result of comparison is a good question. The much-loved Joni-Mitchell-esque song “Another Life” was a bit of a disappointment, with the actress playing Robert’s ex-wife never really capturing the emotion it requires (theme o’ the day), but she still sounded lovely. The comical neighbors Marge and Charlie were wonderful, with Gillian Kirkpatrick stealing every scene she could, and Paul F. Monaghan performing a lovely rendition of “When I’m Gone”, a soulful gospel-y song that without fail makes me cry at its simple but profound lyrics, although the too-long between-verse staging here was overblown. Even Bud (Dale Rapley), Francesca’s thick but well-meaning husband, came off amazingly, and I found myself eager for him to return to the stage even for his super depressing song, just because it meant the leads were off. When that’s the dynamic of Bridges, you know something is wrong. And when the godforsaken “State Road 21” is the best performed song in the show, you really know something is wrong.
To top off all the distressing disappointment on display here, every single song was at least a full beat too slow, adding a good 15 minutes to the run time and making every song, already fucked from the poor casting and direction, sound like a dirge. They did this show dirty, and it deserves better.
INFORMATION
Bridges at the Menier (anyone else think ‘layches on the men-jay’ from I Love You, Man? No, just me?) runs about 2 hours 50 minutes and will play until September 14. If you want to look at your watch every two minutes to see if time is magically moving as quickly as you’d like, then by all means get tickets to this show – it won’t be hard; there were tons of empty seats on a Saturday night (which is a shame for any show, no matter how poorly I think of it). But if you want to appreciate one of the most gorgeous scores ever written for musical theatre as it should be experienced, then just watch this instead: