Mr Burns: A Clever Dystopian Tale So Close to Being Greatby Randi / July 1, 2021It’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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Six the Musical: Divorced! Beheaded! Live! And Here to Save British Musical Theatre
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is the new musical Six, playing at London’s Arts Theatre.
Longtime Laughfrodisiac readers (or people who have spoken to me in real life for more than five minutes) have heard me bitch and moan about the sorry state of British musical theatre before, and often. The only great shows for literally decades came courtesy of Andrew Lloyd Webber (and he wasn’t immune to some straight-up horseshit), and a random few from Elton John (Billy Elliot) and Tim Minchin (Matilda). Matilda premiered in 2010, so that’s almost a decade without a great new British musical. And people wonder why I always say musical theatre is better on Broadway. While that’s still true, finally, forking g-d FINALLY, a new, original, fantastic musical written by Brits has arrived. It seems what the world of British musicals needed wasn’t another old white man (honestly when has that ever been the answer), but two young Cambridge students ready to make their mark before even graduating (I know, I hate them too). Six the Musical is a girl-power retelling of the stories of Henry VIII’s six wives, a concert-style show that is fast and furious in its remarkable ability to share history through modern pop music that is funny, inspired, and absurdly catchy.
From just the tagline – “Divorced, Beheaded, Live!” playing on the famous rhyme for remembering how the wives died – I knew this was going to be fun, but I was not ready to be blown away by the brilliant music. The six wives, onstage with their all-female band, are outfitted in the coolest of costumes, a shiny modern slant on medieval garb, kind of like it’s Halloween and they decided on ‘sexy Tudor.’ They’ve gathered now to have a sort of contest, to see which of them suffered the most and ‘wins’ that dubious title of most unfortunate of the six wives, kind of like how Monica won the title of giving the best bad massages. As soon as they begin singing “Welcome to the show, to the histor-remix” I was like OH DIP (because I speak like Jason Mendoza as a rule now), WORDPLAY, this is going to be spectacular. And from that opening number, “Ex-Wives”, I was enthralled and honestly elated at how good the music was.
From the opening onward, the lyrics are clever and the music is fun and memorable. Throughout all of it, there are amazing nerdy history jokes peppered in, which, as nerds, we adored, and straight up historical lessons on things we never knew. Since English people are super nerdy about knowing and loving their history (would be cool, America!), there’s an immediate sense that everyone is sharing inside jokes, which is a surefire way to solidify audience engagement and enjoyment, and guarantee positive word of mouth. In fact, this is the first show in a while where the audience was so engaged that there wasn’t much extraneous chatter or phone use, which is a g-d miracle.
Pretty much every musical number – and since it is a concert-style show, it’s a series of musical numbers with limited dialogue in between – delivers, with the badass energy of “Ex-Wives” continuing into the first solo, Catherine of Aragon’s (Jarneia Richard-Noel) “No Way”, about how she was not about to give this jackass the annulment he wanted. “No Way” is one of the catchier songs, one I could see being played on the radio (it’s even on my running playlist). It is a forking great time and Richard-Noel has a blast with it. The girl-power vibe remains into the second wife’s solo, but in a much different way. If you know your history, you know that second wife is the most famous one, Anne Boleyn. Where Catherine #1 had self-assurance, Anne goes for cheeky and trades in on innocent-seeming adorableness to gloss over anything she may have done wrong in the funny “Don’t Lose UR Head”. Definitely the millennial character of the bunch, Boleyn (Millie O’Connell) sings how she’s “sorry not sorry bout what I said…I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, lol.” It’s a bold move to show Boleyn as a naughty young girl trying to make her actions seem cute, and I liked that even though she’s the most famous wife, she doesn’t get the most attention or development. We have more interesting wives to learn about.
Like Wife #3, Jane Seymour, or as the other wives mock her, “the only one he really loved.” To have a needed break from all the loud fast songs so far, Jane gets the slow Adele-like power ballad about her “Heart of Stone”. Natalie Paris does a fantastic job with this well-placed song and gets to really show off, while selling a convincing and honestly heartbreaking take on why she wasn’t lucky just because Henry loved her. I love that this show makes you reconsider all of your assumptions about these women. Like Wife #4, Anna of Cleves. First of all, I always thought it was Anne. Second of all, obviously liberties were taken, but I adore thinking of her as having made out like a g-d bandit after Henry divorced her. In her hilarious song, “Get Down”, Anna (a great Alexia McIntosh) says since Henry divorced her rather quickly because she wasn’t actually as hot as she looked in her profile pic (erm, oil painting), she put up with a few months of his crap until he divorced her and then she got to live like a queen for the rest of her life. Not a bad deal at all, she admits, taking herself out of the competition with her proud acknowledgement that her life post-Henry was theeee shit. And nothing is funnier and more perfect than the group number introducing Anna – “Haus Of Holbein”. In it, we learn how Henry turned to Germany for his next wife, and what better way to tell us than in a spot-on spoof of a German club anthem, absolutely hysterical and perfect.
Of course, Anna was the lucky one, and after he divorced her he was right back to treating his wives horribly. Next came Katherine Howard, my favorite of the bunch, with her incredible number “All You Wanna Do”, which has her channeling Ariana Grande while bragging about her promiscuous past in the beginning and then turning it into a devastating post-mortem on how her whole life was about being used and abused by men. Aimee Atkinson, with this show since the beginning, was the standout for me, and in one song she achieved the kind of character development most shows dream about. It doesn’t hurt that this song has some of the cleverest lyrics, and the greatest use of the phrase ‘birds and the bees’ maybe ever.
With all these truly amazing songs, it was inevitable that there would be a slight dip in quality, and that happened when we got to the sixth wife, Catherine Parr (Courtney Stapleton, on as alternate). She didn’t get to really shine as the others did, because her song is the weakest. It also ends abruptly as she decides to change their focus, so it’s not as crucial to have strengthened since it segues into a group number. And that group number is pretty moving, as the wives decide to change their perspective, and ours. Maybe instead of regarding them as being famous just because they were married to Henry, they say, maybe we should consider that hewas only famous because he was married to them. Whenever you have a show that sets out to be ‘girl-power’, it runs the risk of pandering for applause, and while they came close to that line, the way they presented this discussion saved it.
The downsides are few: For one, the sound in the Arts Theatre isn’t great. It’s a tiny almost-black box of a theatre, with acoustics that do not measure up to what a West End theatre should have. It was often hard to make out the extraordinarily clever lyrics, which is a shame, because they are extraordinarily clever. Whether it was solely due to the sound engineering or a mix of sound issues plus enunciation needs, I don’t know, but it would be wise to shore up the clarity on either front. My only other issue is that, because it is so strong, it’s a shame it’s not a full-fledged book musical. With equal focus on six different characters, you’d think they would have had trouble cutting it to a suitable length for modern audience’s attention spans. Instead, it presents the opposite situation, with an adoring audience eager for more. At 75 minutes, it’s great that it never overstays its welcome – always leave them wanting more, I guess – but it could easily take another 15 minutes, flesh out a few of the more superficial characters, and still be a breezy show. But I guess it’s best to count our lucky stars that there is nary a weak moment in this show, and that the audience was fully rapt (and off their phones, praise be) the whole time, so who am I to dare risk all that magic? Six is a joyous, provocative, inspired show and I will gladly see it again and again, which is something I have never said about a British musical.
INFORMATION
The Arts Theatre is tiny, so it is a madhouse in the lobby. The bathrooms are tiny so get in line early. This is one show where it’s fun to be super close.
Broadway’s A Doll’s House, Part 2: Here’s What Might Have Happened
Lucas Hnath was just your ordinary boy, spending his days writing about what happened to his favorite characters from various fiction universes after the original work ended. He started with the many Star Trek series, as most writers of fan fiction do, daydreaming scenarios that stayed true to the established canon but existed wholly outside of it. Yet the boy quickly felt that this focus on modern works was stifling his creativity. He tried his hand at the other popular fandoms, from Harry Potter to Game of Thrones, before realizing that his abilities would best be exercised by going back in time. “Hmm,” he thought, twirling his pen that was also a clock, “I wonder if anyone has fanficked up some old plays before.” He looked through the standards, Shaw, O’Neill, Joyce, Miller, before landing on the one that he felt a natural connection with, the Norwegian ‘father of realism’ Henrik Ibsen. Lucas felt particularly drawn to his famous early feminist play “A Doll’s House”, in which a housewife casts aside the suffocating trappings of her anti-feminist 19th century society. “I wonder what happened next,” Lucas thought, and busily got to work. And that’s how writing fanfic became the coolest way to get a play on Broadway.
Okay, I’m just joking about all that, but the critically acclaimed new play “A Doll’s House, Part 2” really is straight up fanfic and I loooooveeee it for that. Like what if that amazing story where Jess and Dean heal each other’s Rory-inflicted wounds by getting together themselves that I found on the Gilmore Girls subreddit was made into its own TV show, that’s kind of what is happening here. But it’s so much better because it’s on Broadway, and I jest but Hnath (I am fully saying the H and it sounds like I’m sneezing I don’t know if that’s right) did a fine job imagining what has become of Nora, the classic dramatic protagonist who first told housewives they didn’t need to be housewives, and Torvald, the husband who inspired a century of names proving that some parents hate their children.
It’s a good thing Ibsen has been dead for 111 years (I looked it up) because fanfic can infringe on an author’s copyright. But instead of getting sued, Hnath is getting rightfully lauded for his creative, engaging new play. Even if Ibsen were alive, I think he would have liked it. It takes place 15 years after the original work ends, when Nora famously decides she can no longer stand conforming to the strict rules for her gender and being treated like a doll so she leaves her husband and three children with a slam of the door. I saw Part 2 last week with my brother, who did not know the original work, while I’ve seen the original performed a bunch of times. And as soon as brother got over the excitement of seeing Frances McDormand and Joel Coen sitting across the way from us (just kidding he didn’t), he was fine, because honestly what I explained about the original plot in the previous sentence is all you need to know going in. I mean I don’t actually remember much else anyway so as long as you know ‘old timey gender roles, fed up wife, left her husband and children at the end,’ you’re good.
After that powerful ending of the original, what would bring Nora back to her family? How long would it take before she returned? As Part 2 opens, we repeatedly get the answer to the latter question – “Fifteen years!” the maid Anne Marie (Jayne Houdyshell, HILARIOUS all caps necessary) repeatedly shouts! “Fifteen years,” Nora (Laurie Metcalf) repeatedly repeats. The answer to the former question takes a little more prodding, as first Nora wants Anne Marie to gush over how good she looks, in her super expensive-looking gown and her all not-being-dead state, which is a surprise as the family, and the town, it turns out, believed she died because what woman could take care of herself?! Metcalf, who gave one of the best theatrical performances I ever saw in “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” several years back, is completely different here, loud and confident but with a certain unnaturalness in her tone and behavior that makes you a little uncomfortable, suggesting that Nora is not as comfortable and contented as she wants everyone to think. The subtle uneasiness could easily be ignored by audience members who want to believe that everything worked out for Nora, and could easily be seized upon for those who want her to have suffered. But Nora is very pleased with how her life turned out, because she became an author of famous books for women – under a pen name of course, lest she be ruined – criticizing the sexism of society and condemning the preposterousness (preposterity? preposterity! change approved!) of marriage. Her books have made a huge splash, garnering rabid fans and intense opposition, as enemies of her/fans of traditional society want to unmask the unknown author and destroy her to set an example.
Trying to prevent such destruction is what brings Nora back to this house. She needs a divorce from Torvald – they never got divorced in the 15 years! FIFTEEN YEARS! Anne Marie, who raised Nora and then raised Nora’s kids instead of her own, is incensed that after all this time (FIFTEEN YEARS!) Nora is only returning for selfish reasons, Nora who never actually said goodbye to the loyal Anne Marie. Houdyshell, always good, manages to make the audience absolutely fall over themselves laughing in the first part of the show, which is just Anne Marie and Nora laying out the facts. It’s a good way to easy into the serious dialogue to come, the debate over right and wrong and decency and strength that becomes more muddled the more you say.
So some man in an office somewhere found out a) that Nora is the author of these books and b) that Torvald never divorced her, and he is threatening to expose her and send her to jail. There are several important period-sensitive issues happening here: A woman could only divorce her husband if she proved, basically, that he was a POS, a cheat or some such. But a man could divorce his wife for any reason. So clearly it would be easier for all if Torvald went along and signed the paper and that was that. If he refused and Nora chose to do it herself, she would need to ruin Torvald’s reputation. And to ruin a man again who didn’t really do anything wrong, at least according to society and everything he knew, would be very unfair. As for why the reveal of Nora as the books’ author would be criminal – she had been acting as an unmarried woman, conducting business and signing contracts as only an unmarried woman could back then. If it turned out that she had signed contracts and entered into deals without the consent of her husband and without him taking the lead on the business dealings, it would be a crime. I knowww so wrong.
The plot doesn’t really matter – the play is about Nora reconciling her decision to save herself with how it affected the people in her life. But the legal issues she faces provide an effective template for how these discussions progress. Either way it goes, there are no winners, and the decisions made – which we don’t see; don’t think that this wraps up their story all tidily and dumb – will continue to break this family. And they will continue to question whether Nora was justified in leaving and living her own life. No matter which side you’re on, there’s no right answer to what she should have done because, as we witness through the three conversations, it’s too complicated when humans are involved.
Once you laugh enough with Anne Marie, the door opens again, and it’s Torvald, played by a somber, unsmiling Chris Cooper, whose entrance immediately changes the mood from a comedy to a drama. His solemnity contrasts with Nora’s crass, almost boorish new manner that gives her the freedom to now sit with her legs falling open, to lie about on the floor in her skirts just because she can. Nora explains her situation to Torvald as if it’s the simplest matter in the world with a clear and straightforward solution. But Chris reminds you of the gravity of the situation, even just physically with how heavy his carriage seems. First of all, Torvald’s like, you just straight up left me and our children, never sent a letter or anything, we thought you died and OH YEAH, we told everyone you did, and you ruined me, and now you want more from me? Then he gets to the heart of the matter, which is that regardless of whether he complies with her or not, they still lose and continue to destroy each other. If he refuses to divorce Nora, she will either destroy him publicly to get the divorce or she will go to jail and be ruined herself. If he refuses and she does choose to try for the divorce, then everyone in town will find out that Nora is actually not dead and that Torvald lied about her dying, and so he’d probably lose his job and be ruined. On the other hand, it’s kind of the same hand because if he does divorce her, there would be a public document proving that Nora is still alive, so everyone would again find out that Torvald lied about his wife dying and he would be shunned and probably lose his job and be ruined. No matter how badly we want to commend Nora for trying to live her best life, her actions harmed Torvald and continue to harm him after all this time. Whether he was a bad husband or not, the punishment still seems to outweigh the crime, and Chris’s performance makes you believe that the self-empowerment behind Nora’s choice does not excuse its ramifications.
The uneasiness this dilemma creates in the audience does not go away, because we don’t find out what Torvald decides to do. It would be hard to believe, however, that he decides to give Nora what she wants. If he’s ruined either way, there’s no way he would make it easier for the woman who devastated him. But it just seems so unfair all around. It’ll make you wonder whether Nora should have just stayed, but then you know she would have suffered her whole life in a claustrophobic role. And you feel bad for Torvald, especially since he wasn’t really a bad man.
The complicated nature of it all continues as Chris leaves and Condola Rashad, brilliant, enters. (BTW, the show is structured generally in three bits – Nora’s conversations with Anne Marie, Torvald, and then Emmy, her daughter. Chris Cooper generally gets the same amount of time as the others, yet he is considered and nominated as Leading Actor in a Play. Erm.) Rashad plays Emmy, one of Nora’s three children that she left behind, now all grown up. It is hard to get over how awesome it is that Rashad, a black woman, is playing the daughter of two white people. There’s no contextual reason, no scandal, just that Rashad is a fantastic actress who deserved to be cast and, even though the character of Emmy would be white in the play’s society, it frankly doesn’t matter who is playing her onstage. Like Thomas Jefferson around the corner. It’s a play, and the audience can deal with it, so more productions should stop using the excuse of historical accuracy or whatever for being so damn white. We’re suspending belief anyway that Laurie doesn’t have a sister named Roseanne; we’re fine doing more. Emmy is a smart young woman with no apparent emotional connection to her mother. She did abandon her as a very young child, after all, and Emmy barely remembers her. Since Nora was okay with leaving her and her two sons in the first place, she doesn’t seem to mind that Emmy treats her coolly. But she does mind that Emmy is the exact opposite of the type of woman Nora is trying to empower. Growing up with no semblance of traditional domestic stability, Emmy yearns to marry and fulfill her social duty as an obedient wife, with the house and the kids and the banker husband (actually, her betrothed even works at Torvald’s bank). Naturally, this horrifies Nora, who spends most of the play railing against marriage (sometimes to the applause of the audience, sometimes to nervous laughter, sometimes to shocked silence when she goes too far). But the poised and intelligent Emmy seems almost more empowered and self-assured than Nora, who feels the need to throw her empowerment in everyone’s face. Emmy knows she has the right to a choice, and that her legitimate preference for the traditional option is still a valid choice. Despite her desire to stay in the place that restrictive society wants her to stay in, Emmy exhibits more clarity and self-awareness than her mother, especially when she tells her “Don’t make my wants about your wants.”
Nora thought she’d have an easy time convincing Emmy to convince Torvald to give into her demands, but Emmy swiftly turns the tables and asks Nora to let Torvald be, having done enough to him already. And Emmy doesn’t want the inevitable ruin to affect her happiness, as the scandal surrounding a faked death would probably stop her wedding. Nora, who stormed in at the beginning with conviction about what she needed to accomplish in this visit, is left confused about what to do. She doesn’t want to ruin her daughter’s chance at happiness, despite her opposition to its form. And she likely realizes how Torvald has suffered enough because of her. It’s completely unclear whether she would do what it takes to let her family live happily – for her to let the bad man expose her true identity and probably ruin her – but you get the sense that she at least can’t now do what it takes to actively ruin them. I almost just wrote that it’s literally between a rock and a hard place. It is not but it is very much figuratively that.
Not much really happens in the play’s swift 90 minutes, but these discussions are fascinating. And even though it’s not a perfect show by far, I just love the concept, to take a classic work and think about what happened next. It leaves you haunted by the questions of what’s right and wrong and whether choosing oneself is borne of selfishness or self-love. The situation is entirely unwinnable and really unpleasant to contemplate. Luckily, it’s just fan fiction, so you can continue believing that everyone lived happy lives after Nora first slammed the door. But it’s not as interesting that way.
THEATRE INFO
No intermission means no super long bathroom lines, which is wonderful. It’s quite easy to get rush tickets to this show, but that might change after the Tony Awards since this is up for eight of them. And all four actors are nominated, which is amazing.
Everyone came out of stage door (there are only four actors after all) and signed. Jayne and Condola moved off very quickly, probably thinking that everyone was waiting just for the bigger stars. But Condola came back when someone asked her to (not me I swear) and was super excited and friendly.
Walking towards the subway I saw Art from Orphan Black and screamed. The end.
It’s a good thing Ibsen has been dead for 111 years (I looked it up) because fanfic can infringe on an author’s copyright. But instead of getting sued, Hnath is getting rightfully lauded for his creative, engaging new play. Even if Ibsen were alive, I think he would have liked it. It takes place 15 years after the original work ends, when Nora famously decides she can no longer stand conforming to the strict rules for her gender and being treated like a doll so she leaves her husband and three children with a slam of the door. I saw Part 2 last week with my brother, who did not know the original work, while I’ve seen the original performed a bunch of times. And as soon as brother got over the excitement of seeing Frances McDormand and Joel Coen sitting across the way from us (just kidding he didn’t), he was fine, because honestly what I explained about the original plot in the previous sentence is all you need to know going in. I mean I don’t actually remember much else anyway so as long as you know ‘old timey gender roles, fed up wife, left her husband and children at the end,’ you’re good.
After that powerful ending of the original, what would bring Nora back to her family? How long would it take before she returned? As Part 2 opens, we repeatedly get the answer to the latter question – “Fifteen years!” the maid Anne Marie (Jayne Houdyshell, HILARIOUS all caps necessary) repeatedly shouts! “Fifteen years,” Nora (Laurie Metcalf) repeatedly repeats. The answer to the former question takes a little more prodding, as first Nora wants Anne Marie to gush over how good she looks, in her super expensive-looking gown and her all not-being-dead state, which is a surprise as the family, and the town, it turns out, believed she died because what woman could take care of herself?! Metcalf, who gave one of the best theatrical performances I ever saw in “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” several years back, is completely different here, loud and confident but with a certain unnaturalness in her tone and behavior that makes you a little uncomfortable, suggesting that Nora is not as comfortable and contented as she wants everyone to think. The subtle uneasiness could easily be ignored by audience members who want to believe that everything worked out for Nora, and could easily be seized upon for those who want her to have suffered. But Nora is very pleased with how her life turned out, because she became an author of famous books for women – under a pen name of course, lest she be ruined – criticizing the sexism of society and condemning the preposterousness (preposterity? preposterity! change approved!) of marriage. Her books have made a huge splash, garnering rabid fans and intense opposition, as enemies of her/fans of traditional society want to unmask the unknown author and destroy her to set an example.
Trying to prevent such destruction is what brings Nora back to this house. She needs a divorce from Torvald – they never got divorced in the 15 years! FIFTEEN YEARS! Anne Marie, who raised Nora and then raised Nora’s kids instead of her own, is incensed that after all this time (FIFTEEN YEARS!) Nora is only returning for selfish reasons, Nora who never actually said goodbye to the loyal Anne Marie. Houdyshell, always good, manages to make the audience absolutely fall over themselves laughing in the first part of the show, which is just Anne Marie and Nora laying out the facts. It’s a good way to easy into the serious dialogue to come, the debate over right and wrong and decency and strength that becomes more muddled the more you say.
So some man in an office somewhere found out a) that Nora is the author of these books and b) that Torvald never divorced her, and he is threatening to expose her and send her to jail. There are several important period-sensitive issues happening here: A woman could only divorce her husband if she proved, basically, that he was a POS, a cheat or some such. But a man could divorce his wife for any reason. So clearly it would be easier for all if Torvald went along and signed the paper and that was that. If he refused and Nora chose to do it herself, she would need to ruin Torvald’s reputation. And to ruin a man again who didn’t really do anything wrong, at least according to society and everything he knew, would be very unfair. As for why the reveal of Nora as the books’ author would be criminal – she had been acting as an unmarried woman, conducting business and signing contracts as only an unmarried woman could back then. If it turned out that she had signed contracts and entered into deals without the consent of her husband and without him taking the lead on the business dealings, it would be a crime. I knowww so wrong.
The plot doesn’t really matter – the play is about Nora reconciling her decision to save herself with how it affected the people in her life. But the legal issues she faces provide an effective template for how these discussions progress. Either way it goes, there are no winners, and the decisions made – which we don’t see; don’t think that this wraps up their story all tidily and dumb – will continue to break this family. And they will continue to question whether Nora was justified in leaving and living her own life. No matter which side you’re on, there’s no right answer to what she should have done because, as we witness through the three conversations, it’s too complicated when humans are involved.
Once you laugh enough with Anne Marie, the door opens again, and it’s Torvald, played by a somber, unsmiling Chris Cooper, whose entrance immediately changes the mood from a comedy to a drama. His solemnity contrasts with Nora’s crass, almost boorish new manner that gives her the freedom to now sit with her legs falling open, to lie about on the floor in her skirts just because she can. Nora explains her situation to Torvald as if it’s the simplest matter in the world with a clear and straightforward solution. But Chris reminds you of the gravity of the situation, even just physically with how heavy his carriage seems. First of all, Torvald’s like, you just straight up left me and our children, never sent a letter or anything, we thought you died and OH YEAH, we told everyone you did, and you ruined me, and now you want more from me? Then he gets to the heart of the matter, which is that regardless of whether he complies with her or not, they still lose and continue to destroy each other. If he refuses to divorce Nora, she will either destroy him publicly to get the divorce or she will go to jail and be ruined herself. If he refuses and she does choose to try for the divorce, then everyone in town will find out that Nora is actually not dead and that Torvald lied about her dying, and so he’d probably lose his job and be ruined. On the other hand, it’s kind of the same hand because if he does divorce her, there would be a public document proving that Nora is still alive, so everyone would again find out that Torvald lied about his wife dying and he would be shunned and probably lose his job and be ruined. No matter how badly we want to commend Nora for trying to live her best life, her actions harmed Torvald and continue to harm him after all this time. Whether he was a bad husband or not, the punishment still seems to outweigh the crime, and Chris’s performance makes you believe that the self-empowerment behind Nora’s choice does not excuse its ramifications.
The uneasiness this dilemma creates in the audience does not go away, because we don’t find out what Torvald decides to do. It would be hard to believe, however, that he decides to give Nora what she wants. If he’s ruined either way, there’s no way he would make it easier for the woman who devastated him. But it just seems so unfair all around. It’ll make you wonder whether Nora should have just stayed, but then you know she would have suffered her whole life in a claustrophobic role. And you feel bad for Torvald, especially since he wasn’t really a bad man.
The complicated nature of it all continues as Chris leaves and Condola Rashad, brilliant, enters. (BTW, the show is structured generally in three bits – Nora’s conversations with Anne Marie, Torvald, and then Emmy, her daughter. Chris Cooper generally gets the same amount of time as the others, yet he is considered and nominated as Leading Actor in a Play. Erm.) Rashad plays Emmy, one of Nora’s three children that she left behind, now all grown up. It is hard to get over how awesome it is that Rashad, a black woman, is playing the daughter of two white people. There’s no contextual reason, no scandal, just that Rashad is a fantastic actress who deserved to be cast and, even though the character of Emmy would be white in the play’s society, it frankly doesn’t matter who is playing her onstage. Like Thomas Jefferson around the corner. It’s a play, and the audience can deal with it, so more productions should stop using the excuse of historical accuracy or whatever for being so damn white. We’re suspending belief anyway that Laurie doesn’t have a sister named Roseanne; we’re fine doing more. Emmy is a smart young woman with no apparent emotional connection to her mother. She did abandon her as a very young child, after all, and Emmy barely remembers her. Since Nora was okay with leaving her and her two sons in the first place, she doesn’t seem to mind that Emmy treats her coolly. But she does mind that Emmy is the exact opposite of the type of woman Nora is trying to empower. Growing up with no semblance of traditional domestic stability, Emmy yearns to marry and fulfill her social duty as an obedient wife, with the house and the kids and the banker husband (actually, her betrothed even works at Torvald’s bank). Naturally, this horrifies Nora, who spends most of the play railing against marriage (sometimes to the applause of the audience, sometimes to nervous laughter, sometimes to shocked silence when she goes too far). But the poised and intelligent Emmy seems almost more empowered and self-assured than Nora, who feels the need to throw her empowerment in everyone’s face. Emmy knows she has the right to a choice, and that her legitimate preference for the traditional option is still a valid choice. Despite her desire to stay in the place that restrictive society wants her to stay in, Emmy exhibits more clarity and self-awareness than her mother, especially when she tells her “Don’t make my wants about your wants.”
Nora thought she’d have an easy time convincing Emmy to convince Torvald to give into her demands, but Emmy swiftly turns the tables and asks Nora to let Torvald be, having done enough to him already. And Emmy doesn’t want the inevitable ruin to affect her happiness, as the scandal surrounding a faked death would probably stop her wedding. Nora, who stormed in at the beginning with conviction about what she needed to accomplish in this visit, is left confused about what to do. She doesn’t want to ruin her daughter’s chance at happiness, despite her opposition to its form. And she likely realizes how Torvald has suffered enough because of her. It’s completely unclear whether she would do what it takes to let her family live happily – for her to let the bad man expose her true identity and probably ruin her – but you get the sense that she at least can’t now do what it takes to actively ruin them. I almost just wrote that it’s literally between a rock and a hard place. It is not but it is very much figuratively that.
Not much really happens in the play’s swift 90 minutes, but these discussions are fascinating. And even though it’s not a perfect show by far, I just love the concept, to take a classic work and think about what happened next. It leaves you haunted by the questions of what’s right and wrong and whether choosing oneself is borne of selfishness or self-love. The situation is entirely unwinnable and really unpleasant to contemplate. Luckily, it’s just fan fiction, so you can continue believing that everyone lived happy lives after Nora first slammed the door. But it’s not as interesting that way.
THEATRE INFO
No intermission means no super long bathroom lines, which is wonderful. It’s quite easy to get rush tickets to this show, but that might change after the Tony Awards since this is up for eight of them. And all four actors are nominated, which is amazing.
Everyone came out of stage door (there are only four actors after all) and signed. Jayne and Condola moved off very quickly, probably thinking that everyone was waiting just for the bigger stars. But Condola came back when someone asked her to (not me I swear) and was super excited and friendly.
Walking towards the subway I saw Art from Orphan Black and screamed. The end.
