Jerusalem with Mark Rylance: Biggest of Star Turns in Pertinent AF Playby Randi / June 23, 2022It’s Theatre Thursday! We’re still doing those when we remember!
Okay yes The Minutes, Tracy Letts’ latest Broadway play, has recently closed, and I was just too busy to write about it in time for you to read the review and still be able to go ‘oh I want to see this, I will go to Telecharge.com right now and be able to magically use that shithole of a website from 1991 and actually successfully checkout before the show closes and/or I die from frustration.’ Sorry, but hey, what a weird show! If it was still open, I would have recommended checking it out but not paying too much.
The Minutes is a real-time-plus-flashback-also-in-real-time local council meeting (omg I’m forgetting what they are called in USA, what’s happened to me…borough meeting? it’s a small baby government of people who think they have a lot of power and honestly have more than they should) where the new guy is trying to play catch-up with WTAF is going on with this group. Noah Reid – Patrick from Schitt’s Creek – is beyond perfectly cast as the earnest newbie who you can tell makes dad jokes and is friendly, committed to doing his job well, and eager to correct people’s grammar (‘sometimes it’s who!!’).
Right from the start, you get a bad feeling about the council head Tracy Letts, who is just as incredible an actor as he is a writer. Even without the ominous thunderstorm, you’d know from his first scene where he’s kibbutzing politely over the refreshments with the new guy not to trust him, and when he asks the new guy what his baby daughter’s name is, you get the urge to yell “don’t tell him!!” It’s so subtle but he conveys that sinister sense that things aren’t what they seem.
Noah’s commitment to doing his job means not letting Tracy (we are screwing character names) and the rest of the council skirt past the whole ‘incident’ that happened the week before, the one that drove a fellow member to not show up tonight. Someone mentions it in passing, and Noah’s like ‘well what happened last week, remember, this is my first meeting?’ and everyone’s like ‘FORGET IT LA LA LA WE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING’. So Noah has Jessie Mueller (NOT SINGING AT ALL) read the minutes (drink!) of the meeting from the week before, which is his right. She reads them and when it gets to the key part, apparently there’s a transcript she made that’s attached as an appendix. Guys, there’s a whole lot of talk about the technicalities of minutes and appendices and transcripts that the Tony-winner likes to do just for completeness sake, and it sounds like it would be a long sigh of a boring mess, but it’s actually gripping. You’re like YES READ THE F-ING TRANSCRIPT, THE APPENDIX IS PART OF THE MINUTES, OF COURSE IT’S PART OF IT!
What comes to light about the conflict the week before focuses on the man who isn’t at the present meeting, the council member with the conscience. Turns out he wanted the council to officially recognize the town’s terrible racist history, the truth that everyone ignores, that’s the opposite of what’s in the popular founding mythology and the town song. The real story is, as we guessed, full of slaughter of the Native population. All of this sounds very believable and without a doubt is the same story for many American towns. But taking this play’s treatment of this subject beyond the recognizable and into the symbolic is the strength of the connection this town, and this council, has to their fake history. Their unwillingness to give up their fake history is treated more like a necessity, a powerful all-encompassing metaphorical spirit that goes beyond what you’d expect in real life, but reflects the strength these false histories have over us. People like this cling to them when letting go would mean also losing a sense of balance in the world, the world they/we created where we benefit from the lies.
So they WILL NOT let them go! The play ends super weird, like war paint and hooting weird, and it’s a little unbelievable that Noah would fold so easily, but maybe I’m projecting. And sure it’s not (hopefully) representative of what happens at your average council meeting, but the sentiment at play is pretty much what’s going on in every town in America. We love a Tracy Letts joint to make us feel bad about the world!
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Moby Dick at the A.R.T: An Epic that No One but Dave Malloy Could Attempt
It’s the first Theatre Thursday of the year! What better show to celebrate with than this monster opus, playing at Boston’s American Repertory Theatre until January 12.
The long-anticipated musical version of the classic book Moby Dick is exactly what we expected from Dave Malloy, one of our favorite modern composers: it’s riveting, interesting, unique, too long, needs to be edited, and contains real brilliance. Telling the well-known tale of the for-sure nuts captain obsessed with the white whale and hell bent on killing it even if he takes his whole crew down with him, Moby Dick contains, as Ron Swanson said, “no frou frou symbolism; just a good honest tale about a man who hates an animal.” Just kidding, it’s all symbolism baby, some of the most well recognized symbolism in all of American literature, and Malloy and director Rachel Chavkin have presented a wild and weird, completely unexpected telling of the story. While the second act needs work (and I don’t expect Broadway audiences to happily sit through a two-hour long first act (yes we will talk at length about the peeing situation later)), the first was absolutely giddily brilliant, and the show as a whole is, like its titular whale, a special beast.
And yes, I did say the first act is two hours long. The show as a whole is 3 hours 25 minutes, which is Long but feels Right for such an epic tale. That first act is one of my favorite things I’ve seen at least this year. It feels magical, like a privilege to be there. By having the actor playing Ishmael, Manik Choksi (“Dolokov was in the Caucasus and he killed the shah’s brotherrrr”), talk to us as himself first, commenting on how he feels today in America as a person of color and wanting to see a stage filled with who he considers his America, it did two things: a) it confirmed that Chavkin productions are the most consciously diverse in the entire world, and b) it sealed this experience as one we were all in together, as did further breaking of the 4th wall in other instances, and the fact that the house lights were up for so much of it. This show is an adventure that the team makes sure the audience feels an important part of, making the whole thing extra meaningful. (Although Choksi’s little introduction to us feels out of order, since Dawn L. Troupe has already sung a prologue in character by that point.)
Like the book, this musical is an epic journey, although there are no exceedingly boring bits. Even things that should be cut are still interesting, and the show as a whole is special. But the magic is in that first half. Malloy throws everything into the pot and stirs it with some incredible music, new but still sounding like him, along with straight vaudeville scenes, as well as stand-up comedy. There’s everything going on, and somehow it all feels like part of the same whole. The scientific lessons about whales are done with a humorous touch, meta-critiquing how boring it is in the book. I could have done without the “The Whale as a Dish” song, a ‘funny’ cooking show sort-of take about eating whale meat which is so unnecessary that cutting it wouldn’t change anything, despite how incredible a performer Stubb (Kalyn West) is, moving like a gumby-sort of cartoon character the whole time. The greatest segment of this vaudeville section is the character- and 4th wall-breaking stand-up from Fedallah, Eric Berryman, who takes the opportunity to decry how this ‘exotic foreign’ character was treated in the book AND to call out Malloy and Chavkin’s extra wokeness with their commitment to diversity onstage. It’s a sort of timeout for everyone, and it is absolutely brilliant, giving everyone both a breather and a challenge to their perspective.
Some of the music is magnificent, especially Ahab’s first song (when the band starts picking up, wow), early movements I don’t know the name of because unlike the jackwagon next to us we don’t read the program the entire time??, and the lovely, calm “A Squeeze of the Hand”. Others need work, like Starbuck’s big song before the act break, “Dusk”, which needs to be moving and big but feels lackluster despite her performance. The line about “something ties me to this man and I’ve no knife to cut the line” is okay, but not strong enough to be repeated so much and to hang everything on.
During the first act ‘pause’, about 15 audience members are recruited to join the cast onstage for the rest of the act – in ponchos, and then put in onstage boats and used in all sorts of hilarious amazing ways. Volunteer for this. Do not be like me and get scared and put your hand down. It looked like the funnest, funniest thing ever. There are some blood spurts as they kill a whale (you have to put your vegan blinders on for this one, p.s.) with the abstract representation seeming shockingly real, but that’s what the ponchos are for.
The second act lacks the magical spark that we felt in the first act, even though it’s objectively well done. The first section after the break is entirely about the child castaway character Pip, and it is heart-breaking and moving (with a great performance from Morgan Siobhan Green), though it seems inconsistent with what came before. The second part is the climax as the Pequod sets upon the white whale, and this is where everything – except Tom Nelis’s literally flawless performance as Ahab – falls short. This is the big exciting exhilarating climax – or it should be, but the only staging to show the electrifying action is flashing the lights almost a dozen times. It’s tiring, this blinding flashing, and pretty annoying actually, and doesn’t accomplish any of what these moments should be showing. The ending needs to be bigger and bolder. And having the two sailors, often shown chatting at their lookout up the mast, having another tête-à-tête at the end did not work (along with all but their first such scene). It was very randomly and suddenly The Good Place, with their acknowledging they will die but giving a very ‘why not still try?’ vibe, which felt misplaced and didn’t fit the rest of the show at all. (Also, that line about whale sounds’ different rhythms coming together ‘like West African polyrhythms’ is a REAL clunker, oof.)
But overall, this was one of the most interesting, ambitious projects I’ve had the privilege of seeing. It strives for so much, maybe too much, and definitely needs to be refined before Broadway, but man alive if this isn’t some of the coolest, boldest theatre. It feels right that Malloy be the person to musicalize this epic story, and it can, and should, become an epic in its own right.
INFORMATION
The first thing in my notes: “21:24 intermission I DID IT!”
So the first act is just shy of two hours, with the 5-minute pause coming at the 50 minute mark. That pause is when they pick the audience volunteers. You can’t leave during the pause, but even if you did, even if you have the aisle seat next to the door, you couldn’t hit the bathrooms and back in that time because they are DOWNSTAIRS. It’s a very high school setup. The bathrooms are unassigned gender-wise, open to be used as one sees fit, which should be fine with everyone but caused a lot of conversation among the older crowd (mostly confusion about where to go). The line at intermission went all the way up the stairs and past the bar and just about back to the doors to the theatre, so, yeah, run.
Happily, there is a water refill port downstairs with the bathrooms.
The second half is just about an hour 10 minutes, with the show ending at 22:54. There is merchandise for sale from this show as well as ART’s big successes in recent years, including Malloy’s Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 and my favorite Pippin revival of all time.
Thoughts on: Buyer & Cellar, Off-Broadway
The Barrow Street Theatre’s production of Buyer & Cellar, starring the adorable and talented Michael Urie, honestly had me laughing harder than I did at The Book of Mormon (possibly (definitely) because I already had the BoM score memorized by the time I saw it so I knew all the jokes, but whatever). What a wonderful, low-key gem of a show, with a most impressive star.
I knew beforehand that the show was about a man working as the sole employee in Barbra Streisand’s basement mall, underneath her much-publicized Malibu mansion. Yes, that part is true – BS wrote a design book a few years back chronicling the building of her dream house, which does indeed have a shopping mall in the basement, holding all of BS’s memorabilia in various shoppes. (We know they are ‘shoppes’ and not ‘shops’ because Urie’s character adorably pronounces them ‘shopp-ees’ and jokes that one of the ‘shopp-ees’ is probably a purveyor of excess p’s and e’s.)
What I didn’t know was that this simple, cute concept could be taken to such entertaining heights in this pleasant little show.
I knew beforehand that the show was about a man working as the sole employee in Barbra Streisand’s basement mall, underneath her much-publicized Malibu mansion. Yes, that part is true – BS wrote a design book a few years back chronicling the building of her dream house, which does indeed have a shopping mall in the basement, holding all of BS’s memorabilia in various shoppes. (We know they are ‘shoppes’ and not ‘shops’ because Urie’s character adorably pronounces them ‘shopp-ees’ and jokes that one of the ‘shopp-ees’ is probably a purveyor of excess p’s and e’s.)
What I didn’t know was that this simple, cute concept could be taken to such entertaining heights in this pleasant little show.
Buyer & Cellar is the fictional tale of the employee tasked to work long days in this basement mall/shrine. The character, Alex, waits and waits for his one potential customer – of course, Babs herself – whose only potential purchases are, of course, her own possessions. This premise works because the most ridiculous aspect of the whole thing – that Barbra would have a private basement mall housing all of her memorabilia – is actually the true part! The rest kind of fills itself in naturally: If the mall already exists, why wouldn’t someone work down there? Why wouldn’t a woman who is enough of a character to build this thing and write a book about it also hire someone to treat her like any strange customer in any regular mall and try to sell her things?
Jonathan Tolins’ laugh-out-loud script could probably stand on its own with any number of talented actors in the one-man role, but Michael Urie clearly was born to knock it out of the park. As Alex More, Urie projects a sincere warmth and goodness through his often snarky reminiscences of his encounters with his diva employer. I liked Urie fine on Ugly Betty, recognizing his comedic talents as one must when you watch him, but I wasn’t a huge fan. (Maybe because he was so mean to Betty! And to that boyfriend I liked! The really nice but shlubby one! I loved him.) Aaanyway, that character might have colored my perception of Urie, but man alive if I don’t love him now.
In an endearing preface, Urie as himself discusses Barbra’s actual 2010 design book with the audience to familiarize us. The facts about the book are hilarious. Barbra’s writing, for instance, assumes that the reader knows that Winterthur, the inspiration for the basement mall, is a decorative arts and antiques museum in Delaware. Sure sure.
Urie also explains that he doesn’t do an impersonation of Barbra when he acts out her side of dialogue. However, the little aspects of Barbra’s demeanor that he does evoke are so effective that by the middle you are sold on this choice. The slumped shoulders, the seemingly endless and loose fingers, it works.
One-person shows require truly great writing and acting to succeed at all. Often the most telling test for a show that features encounters between various characters is when the audience forgets that all of these characters are only played by one person. Buyer & Cellar absolutely passes this test: Urie really made me feel the presence of several people up on that tiny stage. At times, I was seized with concern for Barbra, wanting to yell to her that Alex probably meant to say more or less or that she could eat as much froyo as she wanted. And then I’d realize, not only is this fiction, but there is no actress up there even playing Barbra. Equally compelling were Alex’s memories of encounters with his boyfriend Barry, who in the beginning was more excited about Alex’s job working for perhaps the greatest gay icon, but as time progressed turned quickly against Babs, partly from the jealousy of Alex’s developing a relationship that he could have no part of, partly from that omnipresent glee we plebeians derive from hating on celebrities whose privilege we mock with derision yet of course envy. (I think 80% of all internet comments exemplify the latter.) That Alex, Barry, Barbra, Babs’s chief of staff, James Brolin hilariously, and even a French bubble-blowing automaton named Fifi all seemed to share the stage equally and fully is a testament to Urie’s talents.
The audience, clearly full of Barbra fans, was completely won over. The show mocks Barbra while somehow remaining kindhearted. It vilifies her well-known insecurities as superficial interview fodder yet conveys her vulnerability. And still it remains a light, delicious, and hilarious hour and a half that I whole-heartedly recommend experiencing. The producers recently, wisely, decided to extend its limited run indefinitely. My only regret was not waiting afterward to get a pictures with Urie, but I feared in my newfound fangirl state I would start “shopping for throw pillows” on him as Barbra once did. You just must see it!
Jonathan Tolins’ laugh-out-loud script could probably stand on its own with any number of talented actors in the one-man role, but Michael Urie clearly was born to knock it out of the park. As Alex More, Urie projects a sincere warmth and goodness through his often snarky reminiscences of his encounters with his diva employer. I liked Urie fine on Ugly Betty, recognizing his comedic talents as one must when you watch him, but I wasn’t a huge fan. (Maybe because he was so mean to Betty! And to that boyfriend I liked! The really nice but shlubby one! I loved him.) Aaanyway, that character might have colored my perception of Urie, but man alive if I don’t love him now.
In an endearing preface, Urie as himself discusses Barbra’s actual 2010 design book with the audience to familiarize us. The facts about the book are hilarious. Barbra’s writing, for instance, assumes that the reader knows that Winterthur, the inspiration for the basement mall, is a decorative arts and antiques museum in Delaware. Sure sure.
Urie also explains that he doesn’t do an impersonation of Barbra when he acts out her side of dialogue. However, the little aspects of Barbra’s demeanor that he does evoke are so effective that by the middle you are sold on this choice. The slumped shoulders, the seemingly endless and loose fingers, it works.
One-person shows require truly great writing and acting to succeed at all. Often the most telling test for a show that features encounters between various characters is when the audience forgets that all of these characters are only played by one person. Buyer & Cellar absolutely passes this test: Urie really made me feel the presence of several people up on that tiny stage. At times, I was seized with concern for Barbra, wanting to yell to her that Alex probably meant to say more or less or that she could eat as much froyo as she wanted. And then I’d realize, not only is this fiction, but there is no actress up there even playing Barbra. Equally compelling were Alex’s memories of encounters with his boyfriend Barry, who in the beginning was more excited about Alex’s job working for perhaps the greatest gay icon, but as time progressed turned quickly against Babs, partly from the jealousy of Alex’s developing a relationship that he could have no part of, partly from that omnipresent glee we plebeians derive from hating on celebrities whose privilege we mock with derision yet of course envy. (I think 80% of all internet comments exemplify the latter.) That Alex, Barry, Barbra, Babs’s chief of staff, James Brolin hilariously, and even a French bubble-blowing automaton named Fifi all seemed to share the stage equally and fully is a testament to Urie’s talents.
The audience, clearly full of Barbra fans, was completely won over. The show mocks Barbra while somehow remaining kindhearted. It vilifies her well-known insecurities as superficial interview fodder yet conveys her vulnerability. And still it remains a light, delicious, and hilarious hour and a half that I whole-heartedly recommend experiencing. The producers recently, wisely, decided to extend its limited run indefinitely. My only regret was not waiting afterward to get a pictures with Urie, but I feared in my newfound fangirl state I would start “shopping for throw pillows” on him as Barbra once did. You just must see it!
