The Tragedy of the Horny Teenagers: Spring Awakening at the Almeidaby Randi / January 20, 2022It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is the play ‘Best of Enemies’ that I recently saw via livestream thanks to the Young Vic’s incredible decision to make all their shit available while you sit on your couch, which I love.
In 1968, American politics seemed volatile and people were fighting publicly and openly in a way that made everyone think ‘oh mg we are never going to be able to agree so we will never be able to get along or live in harmony and everything should be dictated by hate and I hate you’ and that only lasted a few years and everything is different now. I joke! See name of website! “Best of Enemies”, the new play by James Graham based on the documentary based on the famous TV segments, is the story of how television shifted to profit off of this opposition politics by pitting two well-known yellers against each other: William F. Buckley Jr. (would be a trumper today?) and Gore Vidal (would be getting into trouble on Twitter today?).
Buckley was a shlamiel conservative who founded the National Review and was super big on ‘Christian values’ in the American political sense and not the actual Christian sense; Vidal was the intellectual and author known for his wit and being in the same social circle as Andy Warhol and stuff I guess. During the 1968 primaries, ABC, then trailing in the ratings, had the great/fateful idea to pit these two figures against each other in a string of live debates where they could be like ‘no I’m right and you’re wrong’ ‘no I’M right and you’re wrong and here’s why’ ‘here’s your old man!’ kind of stuff.
Discussion of these debates have lasted all these years because 1) it changed how TV networks reported on politics and 2) Buckley called Vidal a queer and threatened to punch his face apart, on live TV. The play covers both of these aspects, though I would have loved more on the former, which I found fascinating. As Buckley, David Harewood (from Homeland) is strong and as unlikeable as he should be, and I appreciated the colorblind casting for someone known for being on the wrong side of civil rights issues so often (and sometimes he admitted as such, which is rare for his ilk today). Charles Edwards’ Gore Vidal hit that perfect note of ‘I know this guy’s right and I mostly totally agree with him but man is he pompous’, which is spot on. Both were infuriating to watch at times, making me want to yell at my TV, which is exactly what ABC was originally going for so they captured that well.
The scenes of their actual debates were among the most compelling, as the drama was fully harnessed then. The extensive look into both of their personal lives was well intentioned and seems necessary in concept for fleshing out the drama, but in practice it contributed to the parts that dragged. What stood out for me in this play was actually, as I mentioned, the interesting behind-the-scenes talks at ABC about how they could boost their ratings, and the old-school journalists who gasped and clutched their pearls at the idea of having such opinionsss presented front-and-center instead of cold hard facts. Would watch a whole 10-part documentary on that shit.
The other aspect of the play that stood out for me was how positively astounding Syrus Lowe’s performance as James Baldwin was. When he came out on stage and said his first maybe three words, husband and I said at the same time ‘oh that’s James Baldwin?’, that’s how uncanny his physical presence and manner of speaking was. LOVES IT. His role in the story was a nice way to ground it historically, as was the tiny Andy Warhol ‘cameo’ (so funny). Other historical figures, like Aretha Franklin, didn’t deliver, but that could be a problem of comparison, outshined as anyone would be by Lowe.
What worked well in this play was the interplay between the dramatization of the events and the real speeches or photos shown in projections, out-Ivo-ing Ivo yet again. It positioned this event well in its point in history and served as a reminder of how history is made at night repeats itself, as this could have largely been taken from TV today.
I could have done without the super loud scene changes and loud music. We know from Mrs. Buckley’s lime green dresses that it’s the ’60s; the music is extraneous.
Act II drags quite a bit compared to the first; watching political arguing in a world that is 99% political arguing is exhausting, y’all. It was heavily personal attacks instead of ever talking about real important issues, which I guess is all political commentary at its core, but it’s very frustrating nonetheless. The frustration is not helped by the epilogue-y part with the woman decades later pontificating on what it all ‘really meant’ without really saying anything. It felt tedious and bloated. And I could have done without the whole ‘imagine what they’d say to each other now!’ bit. Didn’t they hate each other? Weren’t they real people? Don’t put words in their mouth, especially when the words don’t measure up to the ones they were famous for. So the play would benefit from some tightening up, but it does have a lot of captivating moments.
Other bits:
The livestream didn’t have an interval countdown clock, which is very stupid.
My favorite part is when one audience member had her mask below her nose and I groaned and said ‘ughhh pick up your mask lady’ and then the next time she was onscreen her mask was on properly; it’s like she heard me.
May I remind the entire UK theatre world of my long-standing offer to give your American-accent-featuring plays a once-over during a rehearsal so that no one ends up shouting ‘conTROversy’ during actual performances.
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Wendell Pierce in Death of a Salesman at the Young Vic
It’s Theatre Tuesday! Today’s show is Death of a Salesman, playing at London’s Young Vic until July 13.
We’ve had quite the run of Arthur Miller plays lately. After this year’s decent The American Clock and meh All My Sons, it’s time for the most famous of them all, Death of a Salesman. DOAS was never my favorite play, maybe because I don’t like death, maybe because it’s so depressing, maybe because being forced to dissect it as a teenager and having my critique of ‘how can Arthur write all these plays and never once mention that he was married to Marilyn Monroe?’ dismissed was fairly annoying, but it is a classic. I guess I’m supposed to say ‘it’s a classic for a reason’, even though that’s such a clichéd line, but it’s true. More than Miller’s other plays, and more than most plays, DOAS pays attention to an ordinary man, Willy Loman, and thereby ‘the’ ordinary man, with all his frustratingly relatable problems and failures and bad luck. Willy’s wife Linda famously states at one point that her husband is not a great man or the finest character, but he’s a human being. And that’s why “attention must finally be paid to such a person.” Her line states the reason for this play’s longevity, and why it’s still worthwhile.
In this riveting and heartbreaking production from Marianne Elliott (responsible for the gender-swapped Company) and Miranda Cromwell, the Loman family is now black, which adds a deeper sense of suffering to the already sympathetic family’s troubles. Instead of seeing all of Willy’s tribulations and failures as the result of unfair, terrible luck, there’s the hint that it’s also the result of racist treatment, which today feels a lot more compelling than feeling sorry for yet another white man. But the universal nature of his collapse remains prominent, with this story of an average man’s average problems continuing to engross audiences. Few other plays more successfully show that you don’t need magical plots or far-fetched characters to achieve magic in the theatre, as the longevity of DOAS shows it’s enough to pay due attention to real life.
Those of you more familiar with the play are probably like “average problems, what?” and yes, he is losing his mind and he does die (spoiler) (in the title) because of this not-very-hum-drum problem, but that’s not the most striking aspect of Willy’s plight. His daily shortcomings and his ordinary mediocrity and his unremarkable disappointments are what have kept his story at the pinnacle of theatre for so many decades. And in Wendell Pierce’s shattering performance, that’s what hits hardest, how Willy is a pitiable but common man, one that everyone probably knows in real life. This is a huge feat from Pierce considering how impressive his portrayal of the mental breakdown was throughout the show. His ticks and losses of concentration build subtly, making you more and more uncomfortable and more and more anxious about this poor man. Pierce gives an incredible performance, the kind where you really can’t understand how he can put himself through all that 8 times a week.
Equally great is Sharon D. Clarke as his wife Linda, which is no surprise since Sharon D. Clarke is great in everything. Her delivery of the aforementioned famous summary of the play reverberated through the room with its significance. She made a relatively small role feel much larger, and any excuse to hear her sing or even hum, as she does a few times, is welcome. As for Biff and Happy, who usually bother me to no end, Arinze Kene and Martins Imhangbe made them come alive. The family’s story was best told through Willy’s flashbacks, shown brilliantly here with slideshow clicks and flashes to represent Willy’s memories taking over the forefront of his mind. This bit of directing was genius.
The only time the show fell really flat (an accomplishment in its 3 hour length) was in the Act II bar scene, when the Loman men meet a few women and flirt with them. Everything about this scene felt kind of amateur and off, mainly because there’s only so far that basic slinking around with an ‘ooh aren’t I gorgeous’ gaze can take you. Aside from that, the rest of the cast and really the rest of the show makes for probably the best production of this classic play you can see.
INFORMATION
The Young Vic run is sold-out, but you can try for rush tickets or cancellations. As is the annoying as all get-out Young Vic tradition, the shows start late as they fill all the empty seats with people from the cancellation line. Otherwise, the play is transferring to the Piccadilly Theatre (current home to The Lehman Trilogy) on October 24, 2019 until January 4, 2020 so you can buy tickets for that run, although I fear the power of the intimate, small theatre will be missed there.
David Bowie’s Lazarus Musical is Weird and Wacky AF, & a Great Tribute to Him
It’s Theatre Thursday! Last weekend, King’s Cross Theatre’s 2016 production of the musical Lazarus was streamed online by Dice FM. It initially played off-Broadway in 2015, at the New York Theatre Workshop.
First things first: This was directed by Ivo van Hove. When the “Directed by…Ivo van Hove” appeared in the opening credits (livestream theatre gets opening credits!!), husbo and I simultaneously groaned ‘Iv-ughhhhhhhhh.’ We’re gonna get some live images projected onto a movie screen in this bitch! The Ivo special! No but seriously, I’ve been very open about my distaste for Ivo van Pony’s one trick and general misogynist lens through which he directs, but maybe since he was new-ish in 2015 it didn’t seem as tired. Also, out of all the shows where he showed off his filmophilia, this one made the most sense.
I obviously mean ‘made the most sense’ as in ‘for him to use his video screen schtick’, not that the actual show itself made any goddamn sense. Lazarus is for sure up there on my Top 10 List of Theatre Where WHAT THE FUCK??? IS?? HAPPENING??? But unlike so many that seemed to be confusing and weird just for the sake of being confusing and weird, Lazarus’s ambiguity wasn’t offensive to my existence. With Bowie’s music and the effective, stark staging, the vague plots and the unhinged sense of what’s real and what’s imagined all worked well together, a rare treat for a show that had us saying literally every two minutes “no but seriously what the fuck???”
Inspired by the 1963 novel The Man Who Fell to Earth by Walter Tevis, Lazarus the musical continues that story of an alien who became trapped on Earth and is desperate to get back to his planet! So sad!! (Yes, Bowie starred in the 1976 movie adaptation of the book, hence his connection to the material so it’s not as random as it seems that he made this musical.) Filled with classic Bowie songs plus more he wrote specifically for this musical, Lazarus uses that mystical aspect of Bowie’s music to heighten the otherworldly tale.
Playing the sad, now alcoholic, alien named Newton who has lost so much in addition to his homeland, Michael C. Hall continues to impress in his musical endeavors. Newton, all set with money and alcohol, stays put in his apartment, doing nothing but drinking (and speaking in a strange, unidentifiable accent (which I guess makes sense because alien)), even though it’s not quarantine for him. All he wants is to numb his pain and somehow return home. He gets a lift of hope from the trapped fairy spirit of a teenage girl, played by Sophia Anne Caruso of Beetlejuice fame, who promises him that she will help free him from his earthly shackles.
The story blends reality and imagination constantly, and it’s never clear which characters are really seeing something happen, whether/how they all could be, or whether they’re all in Newton’s head. The appearance of the serial killer Valentine, played by Michael Esper, is a real mindfork, because you’re like a) is he actually killing real people and do all the characters SEE THIS and this is awful I wasn’t prepared for a scary movie and b) can Michael C. Hall ONLY do serial killer projects??? Likewise, I find it hilarious that Michael Esper literally only does musicals with scores by rock stars (I’ve seen him in The Last Ship (Sting), American Idiot (Green Day), and now this (David Bowie)).
Esper’s Valentine is so extraordinarily creepy that I had nightmares after. Luckily, the scariness was a little lessened by all the vagueness of what was happening. I loved this one scene where he stabbed Newton’s friend and then Newton’s assistant Elly was holding the body even though she wasn’t there, right, and Newton was hugging him all bloody? And then like a dozen random actors came across doing the tango and laying on the floor and crawling around? Don’t think about it too hard too too hard.
The entire Elly plot is a total mindfork. Played by Amy Lennox, Elly starts to take on the persona of Newton’s former love, whose loss has crushed him, and he is not cool with it. Elly becomes beholden to Valentine somehow, it’s quite sad and awful but you’re like hey you had the courage to dye your hair blue, can’t you find the strength to GTFO? I would have loved to see Cristin Milioti in the NYC version, although seeing her be so underused, as Elly ultimately was, would probably make me even sadder.
At this point, I am obligated to point out that husbo gasped and said to himself “Ohh, Michael C. Hall isn’t who I thought…” Turns out he was thinking Anthony Michael Hall. Yes, I CRIED laughing.
So there’s a lot of weird stuff going on, but the music and the performances make it magical. Bowie’s songs sound just as great sung by musical theatre actors. My standout moment was when Caruso belts out “Life on Mars” in the clearest tone imaginable. I missed out on Beetlejuice last year so I never have actually heard her sing. Fork there is a reason she became a star at 14. Her voice is so strong and clean and bright (you look happy to meeeet meee). LOVES IT.
So Caruso’s spooky little girl and Newton try a lot of weird shit to get him back to his planet, like drawing a rocket on the floor and also, like, him stabbing her?? IT’S A WEIRD SHOW. Does he get home, or does he die? Or is it the same thing? Dark. It said it was suitable for ages 11 and up but honestly it was barely okay for 30. It is MURDEROUS. Seriously Michael C. Hall can only do projects that have lots of stabbing and lots of blood. Even Hedwig has lots of blood, albeit sung about only. (Yes I saw him in Hedwig and he was FANTASTIC.)
But aside from the blood and the nightmares and the fact that no, I can’t really describe what was going on without just repeating “it was weird as hell”, Lazarus was some g-d remarkable piece of theatre, thanks to Bowie’s music and I’m sure his involvement in the NYC production (he died shortly into that run). He wrote some FORKING GREAT SONGS, you know that? And this is not a jukebox musical. I haven’t worked out my full argument for why not. Maybe because the story isn’t using the songs to put forth some contrived plot but instead, the genius and glory of the music is on display, and any story happening is like our collective effort to try to make sense of how magical it is. And we can’t, so that’s why it’s WEIRD AS HELL.
