January 19, 2023
Rose at the Park Theatre is moving, heartbreaking, and overly ambitiousby Randi / September 29, 2022For a play that I went into fully expecting to give me terrible agita and have me tearing my hair out and grimacing like Jim Carrey when he’s kicking his own ass, do you mind?!, Eureka Day exceeded my expectations. All we knew going in was that it was about anti-vaxxers and ‘woke liberals’ &c so, yeah, AGITA COMES A CALLING. More importantly, that Helen Hunt was coming over to foggy London town to star in it, so we had to go. Helen Hunt baby! Did Mad About You even air here? Luckily, Eureka Day, by Jonathan Spector, was well done and well presented so I only had a little agita. We also unexpectedly cried laughing at certain parts, so overall I am as pro this play as I am pro vaccines.
Eureka Day is the name of a Berkeley private school (seemed elementary age, poss preschool, poss pre-to-teen even, gotta control them throughout the formative years!), so if you aren’t told anything else, you know this school’s gonna be heavily hawite, grossly wealthy, largely NIMBYers who act green (with their reusable totes and appropriately colored juices) but deep down are red (not just for tax breaks but also because they hate minorities (it’s true! they do!)). These are the kind of parents who think they are anti-racist but end up being super duper racist, who berate you for using plastic but vote for people who are destroying the planet. Or hey maybe they do vote properly, but they still hate all minorities! (it’s true! they do). We meet the board, made of 5-6 parents including the guy who seems kind of like the principal and definitely one who is like ‘remember the last three letters of that word spell P-A-L!’ Helen Hunt (I’m just gonna call her Helen okay), it becomes clear, has been part of this board since the beginning of this school, like for decades, possibly having kids just so she can keep being eligible. You have the father drinking his green juice out of a reusable bottle (the level of character detail! spot on), the mother with the sweet voice and the Thailand pants (you know the ones) (okay it might have just been ashram chic but I immediately thought Thailand pants), and then you have the newest member, a black woman (Susan Kelechi Watson), so you’re like OH. OH OKAY, let’s see how this goes.
We get dropped right into the messy topics these jamokes are gonna try to figure out: their first order of business is choosing the drop-down menu of ethnicities for future applicants. Coming in hot! Remember how I have said since I was a baby that every London show has an awkward Jewish moment? This one came right off the bat, so that was helpful. During the oh-so-well-meaning conversation, one of the parents reminds everyone of the time a Jewish parent said they weren’t comfortable choosing ‘white’ (valid! especially in Berkeley! they hate Jews and other them!), and another said “that’s not what this is about”. I loved the little subtle attention to detail that this crowd would indeed spend hours deciding whether ‘transracial adoptive family’ was something they needed to include but immediately dismiss the very complicated question of white-passing Jewish ethnicity (of course they didn’t entertain the idea of non-white Jews). I was just like, yep this is all very realistic, though I wonder how much of it was on purpose, and if anyone else understood the nuance or just laughed at the word “jew” as they always do in this city (they did! they always do!). Just like, what an introduction to what this group was gonna be like! That super white liberal kind of subtle racism, it’s so accurate.
The characterization continues to be strong throughout. It becomes clear that the juicing father and the sweet other woman are having an affair — but then in true Berkeley fashion, the tables turn on us, and it turns out they aren’t actually sneaking around because his wife knows and has consented to opening the relationship. My god it’s spot on. My other favorite little subtle detail is when Helen at one point says ‘When they go low, we go high, right?’ quoting Michelle Obama and makes the tiniest little ‘you get me!’ gesture to Kelechi Watson. IT IS SO ACCURATE. All the actors are so good, so attuned to their characters.
We get to the meat of the show after a mumps outbreak forces the school to close. I know what you are thinking if you are old enough to read: mumps? Didn’t we solve that with vaccines like when I was an infant? It’s back, baby! Just like in real life because people are insane and easily taken advantage of by monsters who just want money, power, and I guess to watch the world burn, only about half the kids in Eureka Day are vaxxed. As one of the few clear-headed parents says in the chat on the subsequent school-wide Zoom call, “WAIT HALF THE SCHOOL ARE ANTI-VAXXERS???”
Guys, this Zoom call, it is a thing of pure theatrical, comedic beauty. I cannot get over it. There’s no way I can spoil it either even if I share all the funniest parts, because it’s like a 20 minute long funniest part, all of it. While the board talks, the show projects the chat box onto the back wall, and honestly no one in that theatre could tell you anything the board was saying, because all you heard was laughter as the chat scrolled. (I’m pretty sure that’s the point and you aren’t supposed to be listening to the board.) It is SPOT ON. The kinds of commenters, the vibes, the one parent who sends the same emoji in response to everything; the people asking if anyone else can hear anything, the others trying to help them navigate the controls; the people asking questions that the board will clearly be answering if you give them a minute, the people responding ‘I think they’re getting to that’. The accuracy of this call falling to shit, it’s hilarious. We’ve all seen these comments before. But when we get to the specifics of this call, man oh man. The parents suggesting giving your child ginger and raisin instead of ibuprofen (f-ing Berkeley) because ‘we don’t want to poison our kids’, the response ‘oh but letting them die of preventable disease is okay!’ The suggestion to visit a chiropractor, followed by the smart person saying that chiros are largely quacks, followed by “actually chiropractors have more hours studying anatomy than doctors” followed by “well my dog has more hours smelling shit than doctors but that doesn’t make him a proctologist.” IT WAS AMAZING. On and on it went, anti-vaxxers vs. sane people, all-capsing in the comments as the board absolutely loses control. It was so cathartic, and poss one of my favorite theatre moments in a long time.
The discussion challenges the board, since they don’t do anything without consensus, which in itself is an interesting point because how is that every possible. Decisions like this are all about how the choices are framed – is it protecting kids or endangering them? Is it about giving families freedom to decide for themselves or taking their decision-making abilities away from them and controlling their parenting? As the board decides what to do, whether to change the flexible vax policy to protect the kids, or to protect FREEDOM, you learn more about why certain people, namely Helen’s character, would be anti-vax (oh yeah she’s one). In doing so, the show provides a good balance of compassion for both sides, without giving credence to the idea that facts and science have two sides. There’s just one side! That’s what makes it science! But giving some backstory, some really heartbreaking backstory, helps this play accomplish the difficult task of having this conversation in the first place without it just being that (gorgeous) Zoom call. And it is difficult, all of it, knowing whether we are supposed to believe Helen or realize that we can have empathy for her without necessarily taking her words at face value; grappling with having empathy for someone whose decisions could literally kill people…it’s all layered and hard.
I read the reviews and your British reviewers were very much ‘it didn’t work for me given the British schooling system’ (what even is that b.s.) and ‘it seemed to let liberals off the hook’ and ‘I keep spelling it *Berkley* even though I have I a whole range of editors and fact-checkers at this professional publication’ but I think this play does a great job showing how we’ve gotten to this point, how complicated it all is, how important not to let the complications and the difficulties blind you to the truths (something about the forest for the trees) and how we can try dealing with it without only using all-caps yelling. Though you know I love all-caps yelling. Especially at anti-vaxxers.
INFORMATION
Eureka Day runs at the Old Vic until Oct 31 (WE ARE NOT TAWKING ABOUT HALLOWEEN). The first act is like 40-45 minutes? (a dream) The second is just over an hour. All the way upstairs at the Old Vic continues to be the best value and have the emptiest bathrooms!
Related Posts
The Haystack at the Hampstead Theatre: What Modern Theatre Wants to Be
If you still take your iPhone into the bathroom with you, then this is the show for you! Man alive you won’t be doing that shit anymore. The Haystack is the fantastic new play that all modern theatre wants to be. It’s fascinating, provocative, gripping, and best of all completely original. Nearly every minute of this show felt warranted and every plot twist had me simultaneously gasping (quietly) in surprise and smiling at how well done it was. I have been waiting for a new play (or a revival, I mean see my last theatre review) that was this close to being flawless.
The Haystack is not, as I originally guessed just when I heard the title, a farm show that’s sort of like Oklahoma! but without music. Instead, it’s a thrilling look at modern society and how our government watches all of us, for ‘good reason’, so they say. Told in flashback after what seems like it’s going to be for sure a tragedy, the story centers on the work of Neil (Oliver Johnstone, I mean, so good) and Zef (Enyi Okoronkwo, airtight performance) at the GCHQ, which is like the UK version of the NSA. It’s the government agency where they spy on you, pretty much, with technology that is mind-boggling. Neil and Zef are best friends, video game aficionados, and incredible spygame wizards (hackers? Are they hackers? I mean probably also?). When the two get assigned a particularly important case that falls under the terrorism unit’s purview, everything changes, and not in the fun ‘last song of Waitress’ kind of way. The subject of their surveillance, a young journalist named Cora (excellent Rona Morison), captures Neil’s attention, and then he starts to Adam-Sandler-in-Uncut-Gems it up real hard (i.e. make bad decisions).
The play depicts a huge issue – government’s alarming incursions into civilians’ privacy – while telling an interpersonal story about how the larger actions of the government agencies controlling our society play out on the small scale. As someone who remembers when the USA passed the Patriot Act (super typical America to call something so insidious such a delightful name), I appreciated how they used this fictional tale to remind us that we should be horrified at what rights to privacy we have given up without a fight, in a way that worked without being overbearing.
What’s great about this show is that, with Neil’s central performance, you know he’s doing bad things but you understand why, and I can’t really fault his reasoning for first going down this path (for continuing it, sure, lots of bad moves, but the initial part, I probably would have done the same). By establishing that empathy with him, you feel the anguish of his conflict, and his stress, my god the stress. Johnstone’s Neil is a guy we all know and like and root for, and he handles the weight of this role wonderfully, as does Morison’s Cora, fully fleshed out like an actual real person, with flaws and heart and vulnerability. The rest of the small cast is equally strong and believable.
I was impressed with how thrilling the first act was that I even said “even if the second half of this is the second act of Oslo it’ll still be overall a good evening.” But that second act, and its two twists in particular (I seriously would never have guessed), is brilliant and harrowingly formed. That line about how if we turned off our devices, the agencies tracking us would be blind made me want to go build a cabin in the middle of nowhere and just live off the land, which if you know me is a huge feat (and probably a mistake). This show will stick with me for a while. Also, it’s all well researched. My date has a masters in computer security and worked at similar agencies I shall not name, AND knows all the gaming references they make in the show, to things like godcodes and other things that I don’t know about because I went outside as a teen. Aside from a few things that he found out were simply UK vs. USA differences, the content was pretty much unassailable.
The look of this show holds its own with this text. With impeccable direction by Roxana Silbert (female directors do exist, hallelujer!) and captivating movement from Wayne Parsons (the shrewd blocking was one of my favorite aspects), the show visually impresses despite a minimal set. The projections, of all the various tracking and video captures, are also well done, and Ivo could learn a few things in When Projections are a Good Idea.
The only thing that makes me mad (besides government corruption and control) is that the playwright, Al Blyth, is making his professional full-length debut with this. His first full play and it’s this good. What an asshole.
Okay now that you’re finished reading it, let’s all go destroy our smartphones (you first).
INFORMATION
With about a 19:33 start, the first act finished at 20:47 (I was so captivated I didn’t even notice I went past my bladder time limit so that’s really quite something). After a 20 minute interval, Act II finished at 22:19.
THE HAMPSTEAD THEATRE BAR SELLS VEGAN SAUSAGE ROLLS AND THEY ARE REALLY GOOD! They also have vegan focaccia. WIN.
My seat J1 was absolutely perfect – you want to be house left/stage right to be nearest Door 1 which is right next to the bathrooms, and rows around G-K are closest to the door. Also this particular seat doesn’t have one behind it so you don’t get anyone kicking your chair.
This audience was faaaairly okay. Someone only set their phone to vibrate and they didn’t hear when it rang but we did, of course. VIBRATE IS NOT SUFFICIENT.
Fiddler on the Roof at the Menier Chocolate Factory: As Moving and Important as Ever
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Fiddler on the Roof, playing at London’s Menier Chocolate Factory until March 9.
Even though I have known Fiddler on the Roof by heart my entire life (I think Jews are born knowing it (jk I was also in it once upon a time)), I am always surprised at how great a show it is, every time I see it. When a bit of time passes in between viewings – like now, since the last time I saw a production was the 2016 Broadway production with Danny Burstein (entirely perfection) – I’ll recall how special a show it is to me personally but forget a little bit that it is a masterpiece simply as written. And then the show starts, and it is just nonstop onslaught of perfection: fantastic song after fantastic song, utterly hilarious lines, heartbreaking emotional depth. After seeing another fabulous production of this sweeping epic show, I can’t imagine ever letting Fiddler slip from the forefront of my mind again when I think of exceptional musicals in the entire canon. London’s Menier Chocolate Factory virtually always produces top-notch productions, and its Fiddler continues the trend.
In a rather small, cramped room, the audience gets as close to the action as possible, feeling dropped into Anatevka with Tevye, his wife Golde, and their five daughters, along with all the delightful townspeople. This small space (which gets overheated fast, btw, like a real schvitz) instantly provides a different experience from other productions: with everyone on the same level, with just the floor in the middle as the stage, it’s more intimate than any big theatre with a traditional proscenium can achieve. I’m curious to see how this will change when it transfers to the West End; I hope they retain some aspects of this intimacy.
The set design uses the space wonderfully, with the small wooden houses and their pointed roofs against the one side of the room without audience rows, and the cast coming in and out of the same entrance that the audience used, passing right by my aisle seat (obviously nearest this exit; it’s a long-ass show) so close that I had to lean away several times to avoid being hit with chairs and luggage and whatever else they were carrying out. I highly recommend sitting by this door (my perfect seat was C35), because it lets you witness without a doubt my favorite aspect of this production, differentiating it from all others: the cast would continue their conversations as they exited the stage/theatre, fully in character and saying remarkable (or completely banal, but the fact that I was hearing their extra conversations made everything about it remarkable) things to each other that only I and a handful of others similarly placed could hear. That they continuously went to so much extra effort to convincingly inhabit their characters for so few people filled me with so much joy. When anyone talks to me this season about getting rid of t-shirts that no longer bring them joy I’m like, if you didn’t sit by the door in Fiddler, you don’t know squat about what brings joy, also just clean your house more.
This production stars Andy Nyman as Tevye, who was amazing as Charles Guiteau in the Menier’s Assassins a few years ago. His Tevye is sarcastic and cynical, which helps his humor come across. In his first big song, “If I Were A Rich Man”, he tries to make this overdone classic his own, with the daba deeba deeba da’s instead becoming grunts of pain as he rubs his strained forearms. I appreciated this change, not only because I do the same thing after I use battle ropes, but because it is hard to make any aspect of Tevye different after so many years and so many incarnations. I didn’t love the ugh oohs instead of the daba deebas but I loved that they tried something different. Being so close to Tevye in his moments of internal soliloquy made his impossible struggle to do right by his daughters and by his religion’s traditions more understandable than ever. His precarious perch between the paths he can choose, which he compares to that of a fiddler on the roof (you knew why it was called that, right?) is conveyed with such emotional depth. Even when he makes decisions you think are wrong, it’s difficult to really say that he’s wrong when you know how impossible his position seems to him.
The three main daughters (sorry Bielke and Spritze, but you will get your Susan B. Anthony in the annals of history when I eventually name two small dogs after you) were all a pleasant surprise. I was distracted for the entire first half because I would have bet my life that Chava (Kirsty MacLaren) was played by the actress who played Tanna on Gilmore Girls, but alas, it was not, so it’s a good thing no one took that bet. Along with Molly Osbourne’s Tzeitel and Harriet Bunton’s Hodel, all three daughters were wonderful. Even though Tzeitel seems like the main one, she doesn’t actually get much to do after “Matchmaker”, yet she made her mark. Bunton’s “Far From the Home I Love” was beautiful. Their male counterparts were great too, so great that Husbo and I decided that one of our future dogs will also be named The Tailor Motel Kamzoil (yes, in full). I have to give Stewart Clarke props for opening Act II with one of the worst songs in the musical theatre, let alone one given the crucial role of opening a second act. “Now I Have Everything” is like the even more awkward version of the end of Javert’s “Soliloquy” you know when it sounds like he hits the wrong note at the end, before it resolves? but for an entire song. That’s “Now I Have Everything”. It’s honestly mean to make actors sing this song, but Clarke’s Perchik did as great a job as is possible.
One of the best parts of knowing a show so well is being able to appreciate the tiny things they do differently. Considering how many productions of Fiddler I’ve seen, I can’t believe this was the first to have the mamas, in their verse in “Tradition”, actually whisper when they sing “a quiet home” (as in “who must know the way to make a proper home, a quiet home, a kosher home”). It’s so obvious! How has no one done that? It was adorable. Also the sons’ verse made me laugh harder than ever when they end their intro with “I hear they’ve picked a bride for me, I hope…(super long pause)…she’s pretty.” It’s such a bad line and so awkward but I LOVE IT.
In the whole three hours, there were only a few drawbacks. With a rather small company and tiny space, “L’Chaim” didn’t have the verve it usually has. While still great, it wasn’t a showstopper with its usual energy. On the other hand (as Tevye would say), this size and space let the wedding scene feel more present and real. “Chavaleh” was insanely heartbreaking because it’s impossible for it not to be, but Chava wasn’t onstage during it, so Tevye was just singing to himself. I’ve been destroyed by productions that have decided to have Chava dancing during the song, as an apparition of Tevye’s memory. I mean it was nice to just cry and not screamcry for a change, but there’s a small missed opportunity there. My only other issue was with Yente. Oy. Yente is hilarious as written (like so much of the show, surprising every time), so it’s hard to mess her up and easy to make her even funnier with a strong comic actress. This Yente was not a strong comic actress. There’s so much potential handed on a silver platter and she didn’t do anything with it. To quote Ross, “it took her what, like, what, uh, I don’t know, ahh, ughh, a WEEK? to get out a sentence?” “Yeah it’s annoying, isn’t it.”
But otherwise everything was wonderful and a powerful reminder, as always, that it’s still sadly relevant for us today. At the end, when the inhabitants of Anatevka march out of the town and out of the theatre, they had them secretly circle back through one of the houses so it made it seem like an endless trek of people. It was an effective way to get me even angrier at anyone who supports a government that turns away refugees. I was looking around at that audience through my tears and thinking ‘any of you who are crying and applauding who also voted for Brexit or harsher immigration laws are utter jackwagons.’ What can I say, no one was on their phone so I had unused anger at the ready. Anyway, Harnick and Bock are absolute geniuses and I love their damn show so forking much.
INFORMATION
The show runs 3 hours, always. Some productions are technically 2 hours 55 minutes, some are 3 and 5, it’s all roughly 3 hours and so is this one. I didn’t realize that when I was in it in high school so like all those parents watching their kids do 5 shows in a weekend really deserve medals. At least our Tevye was amazing; I cannot imagine what it is like to see a scrawny little white waspy tween whose voice hasn’t settled yet play Tevye like they have at so many other schools.
It was recently announced that this production will be transferring to the West End, giving you plenty of time to see it. Mazel!
