January 19, 2023
Hottest Ticket in Town "One Woman Show" is As Good As They Sayby Randi / January 18, 2023After just watching Emma Corrin in Netflix’s new adaptation of Naked Chattering with My Sturdy Lover or whatever it’s called, I was very excited to see what this likable performer can do onstage and maybe with more clothes on. (No I still haven’t watched The Crown, I’m bored thinking about it.) But despite all the glowing reviews from everyone else about Orlando at the West End’s Garrick Theatre, I found it quite the disappointment, especially compared to the book or to the superior movie with Tilda Swinton. The tone was hard to pin down, and more pressingly, it felt chaotic in its energy. More than anything, watching this show felt like reading a book by reading a few sentences every 50 pages.
This adaptation of Virginia Woolf’s beloved novel feels like the creatives were trying to erase the magic that theatre could have so ingeniously enhanced. Theatre’s unique potential to show the wonder and intrigue and joy of this story — of a young man in Elizabethan times who falls asleep for 100 years and then becomes an ambassador to Constantinople but then falls asleep again and wakes up a woman and then lives for centuries more but doesn’t really age and has a gay old time dressing as both men and women and having all kinds of lovers and then getting married for like a day and so on — felt kind of squandered in an attempt to pare the story down to bare bones. But this story doesn’t really have bones — its magical flowery surrealism is its essence! So paring it down — and at 90 minutes or less, it really is unnecessarily pared down — feels like the wrong move.
It felt like they were trying to ground (or really, ground down) the surrealist aspect of the story (and isn’t it all surreal??!!) instead of letting it fly and having the magic of theatre smooth the rough edges and augment the ambiguity in a great way. Instead, all the rough edges seemed to be highlighted. Like the fact that Orlando keeps falling asleep and waking up in new centuries even though his nursemaid is alive and the same age feels forking weird, instead of being another lovely thing to let color the mood and shape of the piece. Sure the nurse is the funniest part of the show but even that feels like a random insertion when compared to the rest of the cast and happenings.
The attempts at sincerity, especially at the end trying to show Orlando’s feelings for her new husband, feel incredibly unearned and false since nothing was given the chance to feel earned. Everything felt quick, random, chaotic. The pointed proclamations made about gender and living freely etc thus also feel unearned, even though they were disappointingly weak and bare to begin with. So overall it just felt like a missed opportunity, focusing too much on the meta-story of the 8 or so Virginias Woolf writing the story as it was shown to us (even that felt half-assed) and not enough on letting the story breathe fully in its gloriousness so it could have the strength to say something worthwhile.
INFORMATION
Run time: 90 minutes.
Orlando is playing at the Garrick until February 25. The Garrick is an old for the earth theatre and I keep forgetting that the circle is better than the stalls, but for this short show the stalls weren’t so bad. Just remember that the ladies toilies are upstairs. And old. For the earth.
The pillars that restrict views in the stalls aren’t really that bad, so it’s worth saving a few pounds.
Mask count: two, me and husbo. Everyone else was coughing freely. Humans are gross.
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The Inheritance Part 2: A Fine and Fitting Conclusion to A Masterpiece
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Part 2 of The Inheritance, playing along with Part 1 until January 19 at London’s Noel Coward Theatre..
Before I saw Part 1 of The Inheritance, I had been putting off seeing the show for a very long time because I couldn’t imagine that it was worth the serious time investment: two separate theatre visits of 3 ½ hours each. I said stupid things like ‘if I’m going to see a superlong two-part show it’s going to be Angels in America’ and ‘but they’re not even singing!’ As we learned a few weeks ago, I was hella wrong, because I found Part 1 to be one of the most gripping, moving, full-blooded shows I’ve ever seen. In the few weeks I had between seeing Part 1 and Part 2, I again wished I could put off seeing the second half, but now for incredibly different reasons: I didn’t want to be finished with this story or have to say goodbye to these characters. Spending so much time with this play, the story became part of my mind the way a book does, the way dedicating so much personal time to a book results in it becoming a part of you. I didn’t want it to end. And I was simultaneously scared of how it would end, because this play isn’t exactly a romp. But even though Part 2 is not as great – after the glorious perfection that was Part 1, no second half could really ever measure up – it’s still riveting and emotional and, ultimately and most importantly, satisfying.
Before I saw Part 1 of The Inheritance, I had been putting off seeing the show for a very long time because I couldn’t imagine that it was worth the serious time investment: two separate theatre visits of 3 ½ hours each. I said stupid things like ‘if I’m going to see a superlong two-part show it’s going to be Angels in America’ and ‘but they’re not even singing!’ As we learned a few weeks ago, I was hella wrong, because I found Part 1 to be one of the most gripping, moving, full-blooded shows I’ve ever seen. In the few weeks I had between seeing Part 1 and Part 2, I again wished I could put off seeing the second half, but now for incredibly different reasons: I didn’t want to be finished with this story or have to say goodbye to these characters. Spending so much time with this play, the story became part of my mind the way a book does, the way dedicating so much personal time to a book results in it becoming a part of you. I didn’t want it to end. And I was simultaneously scared of how it would end, because this play isn’t exactly a romp. But even though Part 2 is not as great – after the glorious perfection that was Part 1, no second half could really ever measure up – it’s still riveting and emotional and, ultimately and most importantly, satisfying.
The simple-seeming title, The Inheritance, was relevant to several aspects of Part 1 – the inheritance as in a last will & testament, as in what you receive from ancestors, as in what you get from and what you owe to those who came before you in certain struggles. Part 2 develops that even more, as the play is also about what you get personally from your own family and your upbringing, what you can do with what you’re given and what you can’t fix, what you’ve inherited that might ruin you. Every aspect of what the title encompasses finds a way to break your heart, and even though the emotional reach doesn’t have the same breadth as Part 1, it retains its depth.
The main questions I had from Part 1 were, whether Eric would ever find out the truth about the house; whether he would take over the house’s spiritual purpose of providing a refuge for gay men with nowhere else to turn; and whether Eric would actually continue this relationship with Henry, the real estate billionaire who doesn’t seem to care about anything but himself. Part 1 ends with Eric finally seeing Walter’s country house and feeling the history of the place just as Walter thought he would, in a beautiful tearjerker of a scene that seemed to go on too long but also should never have ended. It created a sense of peace and importance. Part 2 opens with the exact opposite sensibility, an abrupt flip to coldness and ignorance of the house’s tranquil beauty, as Henry Wilcox (John Benjamin Hickey) tells Eric Glass (Kyle Soller) they’re ready to leave only minutes after they’ve arrived. The painful change served as a reminder that these stories aren’t going to work out easily or happily or how I wanted them to. You yearn with Eric to stay and find out more about what has happened there, and in the bigger picture you want Eric to decide that this life of helpfulness that Walter had found in the house is the kind of life he’s meant for, and that Henry’s lack of awareness in this regard shows why he’s wrong for him. Of course, that wouldn’t happen in the first scene, and so he follows Henry back to the city, even though you’re like, dude, why are you spending time with this jabronie?? But it effectively reminds you that these stories are probably not going to go how you wish they would.
The jabronieness of Henry Wilcox is amplified in the first major part of the play, and the most upsetting, when Eric has all his friends over to Henry’s $30 million house in the Village for brunch. I don’t know what he was expecting to happen, but when you bring a bunch of liberal gay men to the house of a billionaire Republican, things are gonna get ugly. In Part 1, it was hinted at that Henry was an R-word when he said he didn’t think the direction of U.S. politics was so bad, and that seemed bad enough for me. But here, they go full out and have Henry talk openly about supporting Trump because he supports what’s ‘best for the market’ and probably loves him some tax breaks because all a billionaire needs is more money. This whole long scene, I felt like Chidi with the stomachaches. Jasper, Eric’s most politically active friend, tries to talk some sense into Henry, but it’s a lost cause and the frustration I felt in my belly exploded onstage as Jasper lost his cool in the ensuing argument. Sure Jasper was wrong for fighting with Henry in his own home, I guess that’s rude, but is it as rude as someone actively making the world worse? I think not. Just go out on the sidewalk and fight the monster. This scene was well done, with Henry at least offering the arguments that aren’t ‘because I hate everyone who isn’t a white man’, and showing how Eric’s sense of morality is disappearing as he spends more time in the billionaire’s world. But it was so frustrating to have to listen to any republican apologists and to think about the diaper genie during my theatre time. Ughh the frustration at Eric for standing by this patently immoral man made me long for the craziness of Toby.
And then we get hours of craziness from Toby (Andrew Burnap)! Like I said before, if Burnap doesn’t win an Olivier and a Tony, then the awards truly don’t mean anything. We already know awards don’t mean anything but they REALLY won’t extra extra. Toby tries to feel something and escape his problems not by getting direly needed therapy or rehab, but by partying on Fire Island with the prostitute Leo (played by the same actor who plays Adam, Samuel H. Levine). The Fire Island club scenes are literally my nightmare, with all the unce unce unce music and the flashing lights and just all the noise, guys, can we keep it down. I was surprised that the focus seemed to switch from the role of Adam in Part 1 to the role of Leo in Part 2, with Adam barely in it anymore, but the actor doubling shows how important both men were for Toby in different ways. Leo’s character was fascinating and heartbreaking, and while Toby still wins the prize for Most in terms of both of those things, the ways they help and hurt each other made both characters more compelling.
Leo gets some of the most spellbinding reveals in Part 2, from the riveting wedding appearance and all the multitudes that can be said by saying just one word, to the ending when we come back to the framing device and it all makes sense. But it’s Toby this time around whose heart you worry about the most, whereas in Part 1 I was concerned most with Eric’s well-being. Eric, though misguided with Henry, shows he can remain standing on his own two feet when things get hard. Toby, on the other hand, is fragile, and even though someone who can be so horrible to others and to himself can seem tough and resilient, he’s really the one most in need of help. I find myself still worrying about Toby and heartbroken at his strife, and mad at playwright Matthew Lopez, Boy Genius, for causing him so much sadness. Oh Toby.
Interestingly, one of the aspects of Part 2 we were most keenly aware of was not the presence of something but the absence: we missed Walter (Paul Hilton). It’s remarkable how he managed to create such a warm, wise, beloved character in Part 1, so much that his absence was deeply felt, creating in our minds a semblance of what Eric and Henry must have been going through. We grieved with them.
Amid all the anxiety I had about Part 2 and where the various stories would go, I had excitement for one specific aspect: to see Vanessa Redgrave onstage. And while I mean no disrespect to this living legend, they should cut her entire part out for Broadway. They won’t, because you can’t fire Vanessa Redgrave, but they should. It’s the same exact situation as with Meryl Streep in “Mary Poppins Returns” – sure she’s a g-d ledge and you’re lucky to have her in your thing, but neither her character nor her scenes do anything to augment rather than detract from the story you’ve built. It didn’t serve the story well, and although she shares some emotional moments as she talks about her past, they weren’t anything novel and so it wasn’t enough to outweigh their feeling out of place in this play. Shame.
There’s so much I want to talk about and cry about and rant about, but I’ll avoid any more spoilers in case some of you decide to see The Inheritance when it opens on Br’dway. Suffice it to say, the total work was one of the best theatrical events ever, and I’m so glad I finally got to experience it. As my last show of 2018, it was fitting to end a stupendous year of theatre with this masterpiece.
INFORMATION
Trying to rush this show on TodayTix is pretty much impossible – they’re gone in a matter of seconds, not minutes. Luckily, the grand circle (that’s the second mezzanine) is still as good a view as the royal circle (that’s the first mezzanine) and slightly cheaper, so affordable tickets are still to be had. Although this Part is five minutes longer than Part 1, there is only one full intermission and one 5 minute ‘pause’, whereas Part 1 had two full intermissions. However, the pause is more than long enough for a sprint to the bathroom if you sit on the correct side – house right (stage left) is closest to the women’s. YOU’RE WELCOME.
The main questions I had from Part 1 were, whether Eric would ever find out the truth about the house; whether he would take over the house’s spiritual purpose of providing a refuge for gay men with nowhere else to turn; and whether Eric would actually continue this relationship with Henry, the real estate billionaire who doesn’t seem to care about anything but himself. Part 1 ends with Eric finally seeing Walter’s country house and feeling the history of the place just as Walter thought he would, in a beautiful tearjerker of a scene that seemed to go on too long but also should never have ended. It created a sense of peace and importance. Part 2 opens with the exact opposite sensibility, an abrupt flip to coldness and ignorance of the house’s tranquil beauty, as Henry Wilcox (John Benjamin Hickey) tells Eric Glass (Kyle Soller) they’re ready to leave only minutes after they’ve arrived. The painful change served as a reminder that these stories aren’t going to work out easily or happily or how I wanted them to. You yearn with Eric to stay and find out more about what has happened there, and in the bigger picture you want Eric to decide that this life of helpfulness that Walter had found in the house is the kind of life he’s meant for, and that Henry’s lack of awareness in this regard shows why he’s wrong for him. Of course, that wouldn’t happen in the first scene, and so he follows Henry back to the city, even though you’re like, dude, why are you spending time with this jabronie?? But it effectively reminds you that these stories are probably not going to go how you wish they would.
The jabronieness of Henry Wilcox is amplified in the first major part of the play, and the most upsetting, when Eric has all his friends over to Henry’s $30 million house in the Village for brunch. I don’t know what he was expecting to happen, but when you bring a bunch of liberal gay men to the house of a billionaire Republican, things are gonna get ugly. In Part 1, it was hinted at that Henry was an R-word when he said he didn’t think the direction of U.S. politics was so bad, and that seemed bad enough for me. But here, they go full out and have Henry talk openly about supporting Trump because he supports what’s ‘best for the market’ and probably loves him some tax breaks because all a billionaire needs is more money. This whole long scene, I felt like Chidi with the stomachaches. Jasper, Eric’s most politically active friend, tries to talk some sense into Henry, but it’s a lost cause and the frustration I felt in my belly exploded onstage as Jasper lost his cool in the ensuing argument. Sure Jasper was wrong for fighting with Henry in his own home, I guess that’s rude, but is it as rude as someone actively making the world worse? I think not. Just go out on the sidewalk and fight the monster. This scene was well done, with Henry at least offering the arguments that aren’t ‘because I hate everyone who isn’t a white man’, and showing how Eric’s sense of morality is disappearing as he spends more time in the billionaire’s world. But it was so frustrating to have to listen to any republican apologists and to think about the diaper genie during my theatre time. Ughh the frustration at Eric for standing by this patently immoral man made me long for the craziness of Toby.
And then we get hours of craziness from Toby (Andrew Burnap)! Like I said before, if Burnap doesn’t win an Olivier and a Tony, then the awards truly don’t mean anything. We already know awards don’t mean anything but they REALLY won’t extra extra. Toby tries to feel something and escape his problems not by getting direly needed therapy or rehab, but by partying on Fire Island with the prostitute Leo (played by the same actor who plays Adam, Samuel H. Levine). The Fire Island club scenes are literally my nightmare, with all the unce unce unce music and the flashing lights and just all the noise, guys, can we keep it down. I was surprised that the focus seemed to switch from the role of Adam in Part 1 to the role of Leo in Part 2, with Adam barely in it anymore, but the actor doubling shows how important both men were for Toby in different ways. Leo’s character was fascinating and heartbreaking, and while Toby still wins the prize for Most in terms of both of those things, the ways they help and hurt each other made both characters more compelling.
Leo gets some of the most spellbinding reveals in Part 2, from the riveting wedding appearance and all the multitudes that can be said by saying just one word, to the ending when we come back to the framing device and it all makes sense. But it’s Toby this time around whose heart you worry about the most, whereas in Part 1 I was concerned most with Eric’s well-being. Eric, though misguided with Henry, shows he can remain standing on his own two feet when things get hard. Toby, on the other hand, is fragile, and even though someone who can be so horrible to others and to himself can seem tough and resilient, he’s really the one most in need of help. I find myself still worrying about Toby and heartbroken at his strife, and mad at playwright Matthew Lopez, Boy Genius, for causing him so much sadness. Oh Toby.
Interestingly, one of the aspects of Part 2 we were most keenly aware of was not the presence of something but the absence: we missed Walter (Paul Hilton). It’s remarkable how he managed to create such a warm, wise, beloved character in Part 1, so much that his absence was deeply felt, creating in our minds a semblance of what Eric and Henry must have been going through. We grieved with them.
Amid all the anxiety I had about Part 2 and where the various stories would go, I had excitement for one specific aspect: to see Vanessa Redgrave onstage. And while I mean no disrespect to this living legend, they should cut her entire part out for Broadway. They won’t, because you can’t fire Vanessa Redgrave, but they should. It’s the same exact situation as with Meryl Streep in “Mary Poppins Returns” – sure she’s a g-d ledge and you’re lucky to have her in your thing, but neither her character nor her scenes do anything to augment rather than detract from the story you’ve built. It didn’t serve the story well, and although she shares some emotional moments as she talks about her past, they weren’t anything novel and so it wasn’t enough to outweigh their feeling out of place in this play. Shame.
There’s so much I want to talk about and cry about and rant about, but I’ll avoid any more spoilers in case some of you decide to see The Inheritance when it opens on Br’dway. Suffice it to say, the total work was one of the best theatrical events ever, and I’m so glad I finally got to experience it. As my last show of 2018, it was fitting to end a stupendous year of theatre with this masterpiece.
INFORMATION
Trying to rush this show on TodayTix is pretty much impossible – they’re gone in a matter of seconds, not minutes. Luckily, the grand circle (that’s the second mezzanine) is still as good a view as the royal circle (that’s the first mezzanine) and slightly cheaper, so affordable tickets are still to be had. Although this Part is five minutes longer than Part 1, there is only one full intermission and one 5 minute ‘pause’, whereas Part 1 had two full intermissions. However, the pause is more than long enough for a sprint to the bathroom if you sit on the correct side – house right (stage left) is closest to the women’s. YOU’RE WELCOME.
Current Broadway Production of “Cabaret” A Must-See If You Are Human
Everyone knows the famous opening strings of this classic musical about debauchery and self-preservation during the start of World War Two: “Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome…im Cabaret, au Cabaret, to Cabaret!” Sung by the Emcee, the ringleader of the seedy Kit Kat Klub in Berlin, these words welcome you into a crazy, thrilling, frightening place and convince you of amazing theatre to come.
In the off chance that you don’t know these words, then you should go see the Broadway revival of Kander & Ebb’s “Cabaret” right now because it is spectacular. See it anyway. If you are old, your Emcee is probably the lovely and amazing Joel Grey, who originated the role on Broadway and in the movie. But if you are not-old-to-medium, your Emcee is the incredible and forever young Alan Cumming, who originated the role in the London and Broadway revivals in the 1990s. He is back, playing the same role, in pretty much the same exact physical condition. He has the blood of tigers running through his veins. The Emcee does not stop moving and grooving, making sure everyone who visits his Klub is having a ball, mainly by showing off the Kit Kat girls.
In the off chance that you don’t know these words, then you should go see the Broadway revival of Kander & Ebb’s “Cabaret” right now because it is spectacular. See it anyway. If you are old, your Emcee is probably the lovely and amazing Joel Grey, who originated the role on Broadway and in the movie. But if you are not-old-to-medium, your Emcee is the incredible and forever young Alan Cumming, who originated the role in the London and Broadway revivals in the 1990s. He is back, playing the same role, in pretty much the same exact physical condition. He has the blood of tigers running through his veins. The Emcee does not stop moving and grooving, making sure everyone who visits his Klub is having a ball, mainly by showing off the Kit Kat girls.
The favorite of all the girls, at least at the moment, is Sally Bowles, fresh off the boat from England and looking for something good in her life. She finds this in the form of Cliff, a nice American boy who wants to help Sally get her life back on track. What a poor confused man.
Sally Bowles stands as one of the few classic, coveted, and career-defining roles for women. In your 20s and 30s, you dream of the chance to play Sally, and then in 20-30 years, when one of your illegitimate children from your Kit Kat Club patrons grows up to be a stripper, you dream of the chance to play her overbearing mother (Mama Rose). These are the two big Hamlets for women.
Sally Bowles stands as one of the few classic, coveted, and career-defining roles for women. In your 20s and 30s, you dream of the chance to play Sally, and then in 20-30 years, when one of your illegitimate children from your Kit Kat Club patrons grows up to be a stripper, you dream of the chance to play her overbearing mother (Mama Rose). These are the two big Hamlets for women.
Michelle Williams – the blonde Oscar nominee, not the Destiny’s Child member – opened the current revival as Sally, in her Broadway debut. Her last performance was two days ago, and I feel sorry for you if you missed her. (Emma Stone takes over the role tonight. She is prob vomiting from nerves as we speak.) Michelle brought such vulnerability to the role that you could tell Sally was made of glass, with her façade of strength ready to shatter at any moment.
Michelle started the show a little harshly, with the dirty and hilarious song “Don’t Tell Mama”, but when that’s your introduction to the character, it’ll always be harsh and unnerving (especially because we’ve never seen Michelle like this before). It’s performed here with all the dancers/strippers in baby doll clothes and squeaky voices, so uber uncomfortable but that’s the point. We did this song as part of a cabaret (not Cabaret) in college and I had super fremdschamen for the girl singing it to the crowd of friends and family. The song is about how her other relatives are cool with where she’s working but begs you not to tell her mother. It’s a very efficient title.
After, in her first book scene, her Mayfair accent is crazy uncomfortable. It’s not pleasant to listen to like so many British accents, and it’s off-putting. But this choice makes sense for Sally. She is a jarring person and she is unstable. You see immediately that this girl is trying to find solid ground to stand on but is simultaneously frightened of staying still. Michelle evokes this inner push and pull with every word she says. You kind of hate her, you kind of feel bad for her, and most of all you just want her to take a deep breath.
But once she sings her best song, “Maybe This Time”, you realize what an incredible actress Michelle Williams really is. We are lucky she began her hopefully long career in live theatre with this show. As she prays and hopes through this heartbreaking song, you realize how badly she was snubbed for a Tony nomination.
But of course this is “Cabaret”, it’s World War Two Berlin; it’s not going to end well. Of course Sally never learns how to accept comfort or stability, or love. She throws away what we know she wants due to fear, maybe not of anything in particular but of everything. Yet you still feel relieved for Cliff, a wonderful Bill Heck. Sure you don’t want him to be heartbroken, but a) Sally is a freaking train wreck and b) you want him to hightail it the hell out of Berlin.
Also, Sally and Cliff do not have the most compelling relationship in the show. That honor belongs to Herr Schultz and Fraulein Schneider, played by the inimitable Danny Burstein and Linda Emond (both of whom should have won Tonys). Herr Schultz adorably woos the Fraulein with kindness and pineapples, and they adorably decide to marry and fill their older age with companionship. But, as one could see from space, Herr Schultz is a Jew, and the increasing strength and brutality of the Nazi party scares Schneider away, leaving Schultz broken-hearted but not broken in spirit. Even before we see his fruit shop vandalized, we know how things will end for him. And even though we want the two to be together, you can’t help feeling for Schneider as well, because there is no right decision for her in this situation.
Spoilers!! Seriously don’t read if you plan on seeing this show because I’m about to ruin the most effective piece of theatre.
The real emotional kicker, though, happens in the very last moment. The Emcee is doing his thing, wearing his trenchcoat and singing “Willkommen” just as in the beginning. His cheeky little striptease revealed his famous lederhosen + suspenders getup when he did this earlier. At the end, however, you get a shock. I actually gasped, as I forgot, or maybe never knew, this final moment of the show. For some reason, I expected the Emcee to be a Nazi, or at least to pretend to be, selling out to save himself and maybe his club. What I never expected ever to happen was in the final beats of “Willkommen” for the Emcee to pull off his trenchcoat to reveal the famous striped pajamas and gold star of Jews, of concentration camp victims. His arms go out, his body goes limp, and you see the silhouette of the backs of all the other characters upstage, and then blackout. This was the most riveting moment I have seen in theatre in a very long time, and this gut punch of an ending made the entire show an unbelievable emotional success. It also made me realize how important and necessary “Cabaret” is in the musical theatre canon. Current events especially across Europe are proving that old saying about learning history so we don’t repeat history to be scarily timely. And that’s the point of art, like “Cabaret”, to hold a mirror up to modern society and show you how much or how little progress it’s made.
Despite its unbelievably depressing themes and ending, this revival proves “Cabaret” as one of the greatest musicals ever written. It continuously reels you in until you can’t break away. When Sally gets to the title number at the end, you really feel every note in your non-tiger blood and somehow still have hope for everyone amid all your fear. If you can see this important show before Alan Cumming (and Danny Burstein, amazing) leaves, you owe it to yourself to do so. I hope Emma Stone captures even half the character of Sally that Michelle Williams did. If she can, you’re in for a treat.
Michelle started the show a little harshly, with the dirty and hilarious song “Don’t Tell Mama”, but when that’s your introduction to the character, it’ll always be harsh and unnerving (especially because we’ve never seen Michelle like this before). It’s performed here with all the dancers/strippers in baby doll clothes and squeaky voices, so uber uncomfortable but that’s the point. We did this song as part of a cabaret (not Cabaret) in college and I had super fremdschamen for the girl singing it to the crowd of friends and family. The song is about how her other relatives are cool with where she’s working but begs you not to tell her mother. It’s a very efficient title.
After, in her first book scene, her Mayfair accent is crazy uncomfortable. It’s not pleasant to listen to like so many British accents, and it’s off-putting. But this choice makes sense for Sally. She is a jarring person and she is unstable. You see immediately that this girl is trying to find solid ground to stand on but is simultaneously frightened of staying still. Michelle evokes this inner push and pull with every word she says. You kind of hate her, you kind of feel bad for her, and most of all you just want her to take a deep breath.
But once she sings her best song, “Maybe This Time”, you realize what an incredible actress Michelle Williams really is. We are lucky she began her hopefully long career in live theatre with this show. As she prays and hopes through this heartbreaking song, you realize how badly she was snubbed for a Tony nomination.
But of course this is “Cabaret”, it’s World War Two Berlin; it’s not going to end well. Of course Sally never learns how to accept comfort or stability, or love. She throws away what we know she wants due to fear, maybe not of anything in particular but of everything. Yet you still feel relieved for Cliff, a wonderful Bill Heck. Sure you don’t want him to be heartbroken, but a) Sally is a freaking train wreck and b) you want him to hightail it the hell out of Berlin.
Also, Sally and Cliff do not have the most compelling relationship in the show. That honor belongs to Herr Schultz and Fraulein Schneider, played by the inimitable Danny Burstein and Linda Emond (both of whom should have won Tonys). Herr Schultz adorably woos the Fraulein with kindness and pineapples, and they adorably decide to marry and fill their older age with companionship. But, as one could see from space, Herr Schultz is a Jew, and the increasing strength and brutality of the Nazi party scares Schneider away, leaving Schultz broken-hearted but not broken in spirit. Even before we see his fruit shop vandalized, we know how things will end for him. And even though we want the two to be together, you can’t help feeling for Schneider as well, because there is no right decision for her in this situation.
Spoilers!! Seriously don’t read if you plan on seeing this show because I’m about to ruin the most effective piece of theatre.
The real emotional kicker, though, happens in the very last moment. The Emcee is doing his thing, wearing his trenchcoat and singing “Willkommen” just as in the beginning. His cheeky little striptease revealed his famous lederhosen + suspenders getup when he did this earlier. At the end, however, you get a shock. I actually gasped, as I forgot, or maybe never knew, this final moment of the show. For some reason, I expected the Emcee to be a Nazi, or at least to pretend to be, selling out to save himself and maybe his club. What I never expected ever to happen was in the final beats of “Willkommen” for the Emcee to pull off his trenchcoat to reveal the famous striped pajamas and gold star of Jews, of concentration camp victims. His arms go out, his body goes limp, and you see the silhouette of the backs of all the other characters upstage, and then blackout. This was the most riveting moment I have seen in theatre in a very long time, and this gut punch of an ending made the entire show an unbelievable emotional success. It also made me realize how important and necessary “Cabaret” is in the musical theatre canon. Current events especially across Europe are proving that old saying about learning history so we don’t repeat history to be scarily timely. And that’s the point of art, like “Cabaret”, to hold a mirror up to modern society and show you how much or how little progress it’s made.
Despite its unbelievably depressing themes and ending, this revival proves “Cabaret” as one of the greatest musicals ever written. It continuously reels you in until you can’t break away. When Sally gets to the title number at the end, you really feel every note in your non-tiger blood and somehow still have hope for everyone amid all your fear. If you can see this important show before Alan Cumming (and Danny Burstein, amazing) leaves, you owe it to yourself to do so. I hope Emma Stone captures even half the character of Sally that Michelle Williams did. If she can, you’re in for a treat.
