Sondheim's Memory Will Absolutely Be a Blessingby Randi / November 30, 2021The brand new musical Hex is due to open tomorrow night at London’s National Theatre. Given its awesome-sounding premise — it’s a dark musical retelling of the Sleeping Beauty story starring the great Rosalie Craig as the fairy responsible for the curse — I was too excited to wait for opening night. Instead, I saw an early preview and. . .well. . .yeesh. Rather than parroting the fellow audience members we overheard as we left the theatre (“wow what an absolute mess”), I’m going to list some of the questions I hope the creatives can manage to answer before the show is frozen. If these questions can be answered in time, and the holes they address fixed, then there’s a chance this show can be saved. There is so much potential in that elevator pitch, but that potential has unfortunately been left to gather dust with Lorelai’s golf clubs.
Question 2. What was Fairy’s backstory?
This question gets to the big hole in the show. Fairy’s sad history is hinted at throughout — she’s the only fairy left; she has no wings; she was ‘left behind’ by all her brethren — but we never hear a ‘why’ for any of it. What happened to all the other fairies? Why is this weird schizophrenic* childish being the only fairy left in the land? Why is she so messed up? How did she get so messed up? Why can’t she think straight? Did she suffer trauma? Is she supposed to be special for surviving, or is it just dumb luck — or bad luck? How did she lose her wings? Answers to any of these questions would go far to help develop the character in interesting ways: why she’s so weird, why she’s alone, why her story deserves to be told. But we get zilch.
*not using offensively; she legitimately is portrayed as schizophrenic, displaying classic symptoms including but not limited to: hearing voices, having delusions and hallucinations, being unable to communicate effectively, having abnormal motor functioning, neglecting personal hygiene, having useless/excessive movement, exhibiting bizarre posture, &c. Which, actually, forces a Question 2b: Why is Fairy portrayed as schizophrenic???
Question 3. Why didn’t the queen sleep?
My crim law professor used to go through alleged facts and point out where something “didn’t pass the smell test”. I thought of that frequently during this show. Let’s start at the very beginning: The queen has a new baby who refuses to sleep. The entire castle’s staff is exhausted. So, the queen orders a lackey to go find a fairy to put the baby to sleep. Okay, so, if they had already gotten a doctor and the doctor couldn’t do anything – and couldn’t find anything wrong with the baby underlying the wakefulness – why not just have the staff rotate caring for the baby? I don’t buy that this self-absorbed (annoying, very panto) queen hadn’t slept. She surely would have go to bed in far away quarters each night and left her staff to watch the baby. (And also, if there’s nothing medically wrong, why turn to black magic? But that would undo the whole myth, so whatever.)
Question 4. What urged Fairy’s hex?
An interesting new aspect of this story is the notion that fairies are supposed to only ‘bless’ (give magical favors that the person being blessed actively wants), rather than ‘hex’ (put magic on a person that they don’t want). She found that the baby didn’t want to sleep, and as a result the fairy didn’t want to force the baby to sleep as that would be a hex. (Drink!) Fairy said the baby would sleep when she was tired, i.e. when she wanted to sleep. This wasn’t good enough for the royal family, and they ‘forced’ Fairy to hex the baby to sleep. The forcing made Fairy so. . . something, that she hexed the baby to sleep unendingly once she gets pricked by a thorn (until, of course, the true love’s kiss). But this huge pivotal moment of the story was rushed through so it was unclear why Fairy did such a hex. Yes she was being held captive and she was clearly stressed out, but what made her think of this specific, peculiar curse with all its random details? Why not hex the people who are actually assaulting her, capturing her? Why not put the baby to sleep then and there? Why do such a bizarre hex? Literally one line supporting her action, revealing anything about her mindset, would have been good. Her decision here is the entire foundation of this story, so it needed to be supported at least a little. I keep seeing Michael in The Good Place waving his hand and saying ‘don’t worry about it’ in response to questions.
Question 5. What happened to the staff?
The baby, Rose, grew up sheltered in an attempt to prevent her from ever being pricked by a thorn. But that day finally came when she was a teen, and she fell into her hexed sleep. Rose woke up after 100 years, ostensibly having long been alone in the castle. No one else was there. Did the existing staff really abandon this cursed princess? There was no plan put in place by previous royals to continue keeping watch over this child throughout her slumber, throughout the subsequent generations? I don’t buy that at all! That’s so irresponsible! Abolish the monarchy!
Question 6. Are the murderous thorns supposed to be funny?
The personified ‘thorns’ who pricked Rose to sleep then set about pricking every single prince who tries to enter the kingdom to lift the curse, sending them into long-term sleep as well. (Though it seems at first like straight up murder.) This whole segment is done like a creepier murdery-er version of the Oompa Loompa songs but it’s also clearly supposed to be funny. I found it so cringey. So much murderous energy. So much of an annoying song. So much time devoted to these giant murderous thorns who want to put everyone who crosses their path to sleep forever?? I hated it.
Question 7. How did Rose know wassup?
When Bert* wakes Rose up and they immediately seem to love each other, how did Rose — who has been asleep 100 years and before that lived a completely sheltered childhood to prevent the cursed (two syllables) thorn prick — seem totally in the know about love and sex and I don’t know IMMEDIATELY HAVING TWO BABIES?? She would be a total Nell ta ta, not a regular modern teen who is totally chill with becoming a teen mom with no support system.
*Question 7b. What kind of name for a prince is Bert?
Question 8. What’s going on with the music?
With each of the songs, I struggled to get a handle on what was happening. Instead of a cohesive single song (let alone cohesive score), each movement felt like different groups of small musical phrases smashed together, never coalescing into actual songs with melodies, or foundations, or points. It was a very strange chaotic experience, to think you grasp what a song sounds like and what it’s doing and then have it keep shifting away from you musically, in a lawless deranged way rather than a creative way. And there was so much of the modern pop vocalizing/shrieking/riffing instead of legitimate singing, a trend I truly despise. Of course Rosalie sounds wonderful but her talents are not given enough to work with.
Question 9. Why was the whole second act focusing on the ogre grandmother eating her grandchildren?
This was where every audience member I could see was imitating my favorite little blonde toddler girl gif, you know the one. The action shifted to focus entirely on the ogre queen wanting to eat her grandkids and being unable to control herself. Why, just so much why. Why didn’t Fairy tell Rose that the ogre was after her babies and would probably kill her too and urge her to GTFO RIGHT NOW? Instead Fairy killed some animals to trick the queen into believing she was eating the babies. Is Fairy that inept, that much a bumbling fool? It was insufferable. Why didn’t she just say RUN instead of cowering with the babies? It took a helluva lot more time to hunt down the goat and the rabbit and whatever it was (NOT great sound effects of slaughter btw, could definitely have done without that awful harrowing bullshit) than it would have to just shove the babies into the arms of their mother and shove them all out the door.
Question 10. Why don’t the book and score match up?
My biggest problem (okay they’re all the biggest) was that the book didn’t make sense on its own, and then the song lyrics didn’t match the book/action at all. It reminded me of the Broadway flop A Tale of Two Cities. In that show, this powerful supporting character spends the whole show wanting to get revenge for her brother, and then in Act II sings her big number, the main lyric of which was ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ Which had exactly zero to do with her character’s situation or the need for revenge for her brother. It was like, wtf?? That’s not what’s happening here, that’s not what you’ve been saying? I thought of that during this show.
Specific songs:
– Bert’s song was both indecipherable and also a heroic pomp-y song but in a creepy minor key. Why that key if it’s supposed to be a pump-up song? It didn’t fit to introduce the character.
– The opening song of Act II, with all the suitors singing about maybe one day finally being the one or one day it’ll be me or maybe this time or whatever, made no sense. These people also just woke up from decades being cursed asleep, and their first thought is about one day winning? getting the prize? (the princess? gross) and not about ‘oh my god where is my family, where is my home, do I not have a home anymore? how many years of my life did I miss?’ What do you mean one day it’ll be you, do you know you just woke up from like 80 years asleep? You just got a miracle second chance done on you and you’re complaining about the before times? Go see about your life, men! Make it make sense.
– The big climactic song about how everyone is different on the outside vs the inside was the greatest example of the aforementioned Tale of Two Cities illogicality. The lyrics do not reflect what had been told in the story. Rose says she’s smart on the outside? She has not lived at all and left two babies unattended for an ogre to catch! Bert says on the outside he’s seen as a hero? He hasn’t done shit heroically yet! No one thinks you’re a hero! Worst of all, the ogre who just thought she happily ate her grandbabies says that she is going to start being true to herself. BEING TRUE TO YOURSELF IS EATING BABIES! You need to work to NOT be true to yourself!!!
Question 11: Why is the promising Rose and Bert conflict treated like an afterthought?
The Rose and Bert conflict is infuriatingly done. He doesn’t believe what Rose says about his mother – that she’s an ogre and so on – and he NEVER DOES believe her, not until his mother reveals the truth herself. Yet afterward, Rose is the one to run after him to apologize, leaving her babies unattended. I mean I guess that’s all believable for an 18-year-old who just woke up but I don’t think it was presented in that way. It seemed actually presented as her needing to apologize to him, which is absolutely bonkers. And it all seemed secondary to Fairy trembling and wincing around the stage and also wanting to be friends with the ogre? When did the ogre become her best friend? See so many questions.
The most frustrating part of this show (okay it’s all the most frustrating part) is that in this climactic segment, instead of having a song about Rose and Bert’s conflict and giving some character depth and development through song as musicals are supposed to do, they give us a silly R&B song for the suitors that lifts right out. Another point in the panto column.
Question 11b: Why does Rose consider the suitors, who she never met until right now, her best friends? They have all been asleep and never met before.
I have more questions, like why is the humor geared to the lowest common denominator? why are there so many elements that evidence a favoring of panto over the musical art form? is this for kids or adults? but I’ve asked enough. With some work, it would be a decent show – it has so much promise in that premise. But it’s presented as though the creatives don’t believe in the premise and instead stuff the hours with low-grade jokes, unfinished sentences, and mere sketches of characters. Hex was unfortunately tonally confused and sloppy. I hope there is time to answer these questions before the show is set so that it can try to find its proper footing.
INFORMATION
Hex opens Wednesday December 15 at the National Theatre. At my performance, Act I ran from 7:20 to 8:38, Act II ended at 9:55. Hilariously, the placards outside the doors said the run time was 2 hours 34 minutes, a mind-boggling specificity that I will never understand the point of announcing.
Related Posts
How to Make “Treason” into a Full-Fledged Musical
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is the concert stream of “Treason” the musical, recorded at Cadogan Hall and shown earlier in March with an encore last weekend.
What I knew previously about Guy Fawkes: Bonfire Night. Gunpowder Plot. V for Vendetta masks. After watching the concert stream of the new concept musical “Treason”, based on the events and players in England’s 1605 gunpowder plot, I also know that his name was Guido. (All I can hear is his name replacing Sweeney Todd: “not Guido…not Guido Fawkes! the demon plotter of some! thing!”). The show focuses not on that mysterious man but on the group of his co-conspirators, yet it wasn’t so much intent on history as it was expressing the emotional beats of the stories of those involved. With some critical and editorial touches, “Treason” could achieve that intention, and maybe even become a successful full-fledged musical. But it needs work.
The Gunpowder Plot was essentially a group of Catholics plotting to assassinate King James I by blowing up the House of Lords, ostensibly because of anti-Catholic persecution but who knows why men do anything. “Treason” begins at the end of the plot, when conspirators are executed and their wives are mourning. Without having met anyone yet or heard anything about the events, this reverse prologue feels unearned. This flat opening exemplified the quintessential problem of telling instead of showing. Completely cutting these first two songs will give the show a chance to begin in a more energetic, dynamic way – with the group of conspirators starting to chat and meet and plan. We could get to know them naturally, as they get to know each other. Start with showing – showing the men talking and plotting. With this odd, stale beginning, it felt plodding, and only started to get moving at the thirty minute mark.
“Treason” is billed as “a historic tale of religious persecution and brutality”, but honestly, none of it felt as weighty as that tagline makes it out to be. There’s a lot of talk talk into our earholes about how persecuted the Catholics were, and how they were the victims, but without any nuance of the historical situation (surely it’s important to note what came before…maybe someone named Bloody Mary?) it’s coming across as “these poor yt mens tried to blow up a building and kill people and they GOT STOPPED!” We need a reason to not be like “…and?”
I think a full version of this show would succeed if it focuses on Catesby as the main character with all the other conspirators are interesting side characters. As is, it tries to put too many characters on equal footing, but splitting the spotlight with the others ends up diminishing all of their stories. It would be more compelling with a clear main character. Don’t half ass so many things. Whole ass one thing.
Of course a full musical would flesh out the format more, but even so I can’t see how opening with the aftermath and mourning and then repeating that segment in its entirety when the plot reaches that point is worth it. It doesn’t have any emotional power to have the audience realize “oh we already saw this bit…now it’s making chronological sense…so they are repeating it…cool.” It was the same two songs they repeated too, so if they really want that to work, they have to work on those songs too. There’s a lot of promise but they aren’t great yet. The song meant to be an emotional wallop, where Lucie Jones sings about kissing her husband’s white cold corpse in the cold hard ground is…I mean…those lyrics. We were like “ugh please stop saying how you want to kiss his cold corpse” I mean YEESH. There are a few instances where the lyrics need a little polishing, like when the men start plotting and Catesby hints at taking the lead and things feel like they’ll get moving but they blow it by singing this song in which the men literally say the word ‘blow’ 483 times. We started joke-singing along with it just repeating the word ‘blow’ and we were right
Also, is every single musical portrayal of a British king going to make them the hokey joke comedic part from now on? It kind of felt obviously derivative.
Okay that’s a lot of negativity and I was supposed to be putting more positivity out there this year. This feels very first draft but really there’s a lot of potential, and with some obvious changes, some critical reformatting, and some work on the music, this could be as epic as they want it to be.
The Inheritance Part 1: A Provocative, Poignant Epic for Modern Times
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is The Inheritance, Part 1, which has transferred from the Young Vic to the West End’s Noel Coward Theatre, playing there until January 19.
I have put off seeing The Inheritance for actual years now. It’s not that I didn’t want to see it, but Matthew Lopez’s two-part, sweeping look at today’s culture of gay men, and how they grapple with their position in life compared to the generation that came before them and paved the way, is…long. It’s really long. And it’s in two parts, so you have to go back to the theatre another night to finish the story. And I got things to do! So I put it off. If I’m going to sit through two plays at nearly four hours each, I said to myself, about gay men and AIDs and stuff, I’m going to see Angels in America. (It might sound pretty narrow-minded to compare to the two works, like ‘oh they’re both about gay men so you’re going to compare them, you bigot’ but please, tell me of another eight-hour play in two parts, I’ll wait.) Also, the hype was ludicrous. I assumed there was no way this is ‘the best play of the year, and of next year too, probably’, to quote a mainstream critic (one of those). But I finally decided to bite the bullet and start this epic journey into hours and hours of theatre, and you know what? It’s probably the best play of the year, and of next year too.
I have put off seeing The Inheritance for actual years now. It’s not that I didn’t want to see it, but Matthew Lopez’s two-part, sweeping look at today’s culture of gay men, and how they grapple with their position in life compared to the generation that came before them and paved the way, is…long. It’s really long. And it’s in two parts, so you have to go back to the theatre another night to finish the story. And I got things to do! So I put it off. If I’m going to sit through two plays at nearly four hours each, I said to myself, about gay men and AIDs and stuff, I’m going to see Angels in America. (It might sound pretty narrow-minded to compare to the two works, like ‘oh they’re both about gay men so you’re going to compare them, you bigot’ but please, tell me of another eight-hour play in two parts, I’ll wait.) Also, the hype was ludicrous. I assumed there was no way this is ‘the best play of the year, and of next year too, probably’, to quote a mainstream critic (one of those). But I finally decided to bite the bullet and start this epic journey into hours and hours of theatre, and you know what? It’s probably the best play of the year, and of next year too.
Granted, I have only seen Part 1 so far. You can see both parts in one day if you want, but ain’t nobody got time for that. (Or energy. How do the actors do it? are they spidermen?) I’m really glad I scheduled this extra time in between so I can sit with and think about Part 1 and give it the due it deserves. As a standalone play, Part 1 was sensational, and I’m honestly wowed. I really can’t believe that I would be willing to see it again. For the first time in my life, I bought the script of the play instead of the programme. It’s that good. I made a sort-of joke about Angels in America above, but The Inheritance is truly the clear successor to Angels, not just because they are about the same demographic, but – and gird your loins, people who hate tautologies – because it is a successor to Angels. That’s what it’s about – what gay men living today have inherited from the generation before and what they have to do to honor their memory and their sacrifice. So REALLY, it’s like a four-part 16 hour play. Just kidding. But it’s important to know where gay men of the previous generation have been in order to understand what these gay men of our generation are thinking about when they think about honoring those who came before them. Both plays bear crucial witness to the gay culture of their time.
The idea of honoring the past without getting trapped by it runs through all the multiple layers and character arcs in this play. Not only are there so many vibrant layers to the story that all seem compelling in their own right, there’s also an homage to the novel Howards End woven into the frame of the show. It begins with a group of male writing students bouncing ideas off of each other, guided by their teacher Morgan, a representation of Howards End author E.M. Forster (the M was for Morgan), who hid his homosexuality from the public (his famous works about homosexual themes were published after his death). Morgan and the students brainstorm ways to start the story, eventually focusing on one student’s idea and snowballing. As an opening gimmick, this kind of annoyed me at first, but it really does pay off. We delve into the story and just when you forget that it’s anything but real, it returns to Morgan leading the writing process.
The story being written tells of Eric Glass (Kyle Soller, wonderful) and Toby Darling (Andrew Burnap, my choice for a supporting actor Olivier), a gay couple living in New York in Eric’s Holocaust-surviving grandparents’ great apartment. If you take that central idea and think of it like a small glass sphere, the play is like taking a hammer to that glass and watching all the thousands of shards shower away from it. There is so much happening and it all is part of the same whole, all kinds of side stories you think maybe should have been cut for time, until you realize they are all necessary to add to this realistic, vivid world they’re creating onstage. Eric is an actually decent guy, the kind you root for even without knowing him too well. He’s a better person than he believes himself to be, a sensitive, thoughtful soul. Toby is vivacious, hilarious, and altogether Too Much. He’s written a well-known book that is getting transformed into a Broadway play, because his head needs to get bigger. A chance meeting with a younger gay man, Adam (Samuel Levine, responsible for the ‘male nudity’ warning), throws a wrench into Eric and Toby’s happy life together, especially when Adam is cast in Toby’s play.
While Adam and Toby workshop the play out of town, Eric befriends Walter, an older gay man who was previously an acquaintance but becomes one of the most important people in Eric’s life. Walter lived through the ‘80s AIDs epidemic and tells Eric, in probably the longest (and most moving) monologue in theatre history, what it was like. And not just ‘what it was like’ like ‘oh, it was awful,’ but opening up and really showing the history to Eric like it’s a tangible thing you can hold and show someone. In a brilliant move, Walter is played by the same actor as Morgan (Paul Hilton), guiding the young men and helping them as much as he can. At the end of Act 1, Walter explains to Eric that his partner, the billionaire Henry Wilcox (John Benjamin Hickey, one of my faves), wanted to run away from the city during the epidemic and ignore it, along with their friends. But Walter in his kindness and empathy couldn’t, and so while Henry traveled, Walter opened up their country house to let their friends, and friends of friends and whoever needed to, have a serene place to die.
Walter’s friendship, guidance, and memories clearly make Eric even more thoughtful and considerate of (to quote another of this year’s ‘best of’(TV Edition)) what we owe to each other, and what we owe to the past and to the future. The inheritance of the title is that recognition of the importance of memory and respect in the culture. In a whole new layer to the story, it also refers to a Howards-End inspired deathbed bequeathment of important property that, like in its source material, gets infuriatingly disregarded. And as part of that property, it refers to the responsibility that these young gay men have inherited from the previous generation, the responsibility that every demographic or culture or race owes to their forebears: to recognize their struggles and understand what they went through so that you can live the life you’re living and make things better for the next group.
I know, it sounds like a lot of heavy material. And it is, and you’ll forking SOB, especially at the final scene of Part 1. Or, if you’re like me, you’ll save your hardest cries for what’s supposed to be a kind of funny moment – Eric’s friends’ 2016 Election Returns Watch Party (sigh (too real)). But you also laugh a whole lot, especially at Toby’s lines and his incredible physicality. It’s like he’s dancing through his character’s lines while fully becoming him and it is incredible. The ensemble is wonderful, and even though most have not much to say in Part 1, the cast remains onstage the entire time. Stephen Daldry’s direction has truly never been cleverer or sharper. It’s his best work yet. There is absolutely no set, other than a raised platform in the middle. No painted backdrops, no nothing. There are barely any props (save for the frequent wine glasses, the odd chair, the Hillary balloon). Yet the stage pulsates with life. The ensemble sits around the platform and watches the action, sometimes chiming in with suggestions to the author (reminding you of the framing device, which I still don’t know how I feel about). Most importantly, the ensemble moves with the story in a way I have never seen before. When you react internally to a line reading, the ensemble will react physically in a way that makes complete sense. They seem to be constantly moving but not in a distracting way, rather in a totally natural, necessary way that adds to the import of every scene. It’s like a reminder of something, maybe that your actions affect lives around you, or that you’re never alone.
Going into Part 2, I’m eager to see more of John Benjamin Hickey’s Wilcox, who was only in Part 1 for a portion of the time, and of course I’m excited for the ‘cameo’ by Vanessa Redgrave. But even more than seeing these stars, I can’t wait to get back into this world. I’m honestly still shook by the story and anxious about where things left off. This play felt like a long book that becomes important to you as you read along, the kind where you feel it in your soul and worry about the story and the characters for life, even though you know it’s not real. That the Inheritance Part 1 accomplished that is a testament to the genius of Matthew Lopez, as well as the pitch-perfect direction and the great acting that brought me fully into their world.
INFORMATION
The Inheritance ends its run at the Noel Coward Theatre on January 19 so hurry, or wait to see it on Broadway because it is definitely going.
Tickets are pretty easy to get, especially using TodayTix (which runs their rush ticket system). I got a £15 ticket (talk about value for money) in the Royal Circle, fifth row in and on the right side of center, and it was a perfect view. Too far to the extreme sides will be okay but a little restricted. The audience was pretty good, but actually the staff was awful. I could hear them talking in the lobby really loudly, proving my opinion that Delfont Mackintosh theatres and staff have to undergo a whole rehaul.
The idea of honoring the past without getting trapped by it runs through all the multiple layers and character arcs in this play. Not only are there so many vibrant layers to the story that all seem compelling in their own right, there’s also an homage to the novel Howards End woven into the frame of the show. It begins with a group of male writing students bouncing ideas off of each other, guided by their teacher Morgan, a representation of Howards End author E.M. Forster (the M was for Morgan), who hid his homosexuality from the public (his famous works about homosexual themes were published after his death). Morgan and the students brainstorm ways to start the story, eventually focusing on one student’s idea and snowballing. As an opening gimmick, this kind of annoyed me at first, but it really does pay off. We delve into the story and just when you forget that it’s anything but real, it returns to Morgan leading the writing process.
The story being written tells of Eric Glass (Kyle Soller, wonderful) and Toby Darling (Andrew Burnap, my choice for a supporting actor Olivier), a gay couple living in New York in Eric’s Holocaust-surviving grandparents’ great apartment. If you take that central idea and think of it like a small glass sphere, the play is like taking a hammer to that glass and watching all the thousands of shards shower away from it. There is so much happening and it all is part of the same whole, all kinds of side stories you think maybe should have been cut for time, until you realize they are all necessary to add to this realistic, vivid world they’re creating onstage. Eric is an actually decent guy, the kind you root for even without knowing him too well. He’s a better person than he believes himself to be, a sensitive, thoughtful soul. Toby is vivacious, hilarious, and altogether Too Much. He’s written a well-known book that is getting transformed into a Broadway play, because his head needs to get bigger. A chance meeting with a younger gay man, Adam (Samuel Levine, responsible for the ‘male nudity’ warning), throws a wrench into Eric and Toby’s happy life together, especially when Adam is cast in Toby’s play.
While Adam and Toby workshop the play out of town, Eric befriends Walter, an older gay man who was previously an acquaintance but becomes one of the most important people in Eric’s life. Walter lived through the ‘80s AIDs epidemic and tells Eric, in probably the longest (and most moving) monologue in theatre history, what it was like. And not just ‘what it was like’ like ‘oh, it was awful,’ but opening up and really showing the history to Eric like it’s a tangible thing you can hold and show someone. In a brilliant move, Walter is played by the same actor as Morgan (Paul Hilton), guiding the young men and helping them as much as he can. At the end of Act 1, Walter explains to Eric that his partner, the billionaire Henry Wilcox (John Benjamin Hickey, one of my faves), wanted to run away from the city during the epidemic and ignore it, along with their friends. But Walter in his kindness and empathy couldn’t, and so while Henry traveled, Walter opened up their country house to let their friends, and friends of friends and whoever needed to, have a serene place to die.
Walter’s friendship, guidance, and memories clearly make Eric even more thoughtful and considerate of (to quote another of this year’s ‘best of’(TV Edition)) what we owe to each other, and what we owe to the past and to the future. The inheritance of the title is that recognition of the importance of memory and respect in the culture. In a whole new layer to the story, it also refers to a Howards-End inspired deathbed bequeathment of important property that, like in its source material, gets infuriatingly disregarded. And as part of that property, it refers to the responsibility that these young gay men have inherited from the previous generation, the responsibility that every demographic or culture or race owes to their forebears: to recognize their struggles and understand what they went through so that you can live the life you’re living and make things better for the next group.
I know, it sounds like a lot of heavy material. And it is, and you’ll forking SOB, especially at the final scene of Part 1. Or, if you’re like me, you’ll save your hardest cries for what’s supposed to be a kind of funny moment – Eric’s friends’ 2016 Election Returns Watch Party (sigh (too real)). But you also laugh a whole lot, especially at Toby’s lines and his incredible physicality. It’s like he’s dancing through his character’s lines while fully becoming him and it is incredible. The ensemble is wonderful, and even though most have not much to say in Part 1, the cast remains onstage the entire time. Stephen Daldry’s direction has truly never been cleverer or sharper. It’s his best work yet. There is absolutely no set, other than a raised platform in the middle. No painted backdrops, no nothing. There are barely any props (save for the frequent wine glasses, the odd chair, the Hillary balloon). Yet the stage pulsates with life. The ensemble sits around the platform and watches the action, sometimes chiming in with suggestions to the author (reminding you of the framing device, which I still don’t know how I feel about). Most importantly, the ensemble moves with the story in a way I have never seen before. When you react internally to a line reading, the ensemble will react physically in a way that makes complete sense. They seem to be constantly moving but not in a distracting way, rather in a totally natural, necessary way that adds to the import of every scene. It’s like a reminder of something, maybe that your actions affect lives around you, or that you’re never alone.
Going into Part 2, I’m eager to see more of John Benjamin Hickey’s Wilcox, who was only in Part 1 for a portion of the time, and of course I’m excited for the ‘cameo’ by Vanessa Redgrave. But even more than seeing these stars, I can’t wait to get back into this world. I’m honestly still shook by the story and anxious about where things left off. This play felt like a long book that becomes important to you as you read along, the kind where you feel it in your soul and worry about the story and the characters for life, even though you know it’s not real. That the Inheritance Part 1 accomplished that is a testament to the genius of Matthew Lopez, as well as the pitch-perfect direction and the great acting that brought me fully into their world.
INFORMATION
The Inheritance ends its run at the Noel Coward Theatre on January 19 so hurry, or wait to see it on Broadway because it is definitely going.
Tickets are pretty easy to get, especially using TodayTix (which runs their rush ticket system). I got a £15 ticket (talk about value for money) in the Royal Circle, fifth row in and on the right side of center, and it was a perfect view. Too far to the extreme sides will be okay but a little restricted. The audience was pretty good, but actually the staff was awful. I could hear them talking in the lobby really loudly, proving my opinion that Delfont Mackintosh theatres and staff have to undergo a whole rehaul.
