Christmas Romcoms Take 2: Back & "Better" Than Ever!by Randi / January 17, 2024I don’t know why we slept so long on the 2023 Best Musical Olivier winner, but better late than never. Actually no, I do know why: it’s because husbo thought it would be ‘too English’ for my liking based simply on his knowledge that I hate colloquial English abbreviations like ‘brekkie’ so he says I’m ‘resistant to becoming British’ but little does he know I sign all my texts with x or even xx sometimes!
‘Standing at the Sky’s Edge’ takes place in Sheffield over three different timelines, telling stories of the people living in one specific flat over three generations, from standard starter home to projects to gentrified little zooplas. The stories of the madly-in-love ’60s newlyweds, the ’80s refugees from Liberia, and the posho escaping dramaz in London in the present intertwine nicely at first and then devastatingly later, all set to Richard Hawley (famous British musician? Pulp?)’s back catalogue and poss some new songs? Is this a jukebox musical? Who can say, but no.
I don’t say this often so gird your loins: the book is good. It’s captivating and the various timelines keep things interesting, and just when someone gets annoying you get to switch to someone else. I was pissed that I could tell early on from the subtle clues (“we got all four of your clues!” “amazing! actually I left more than 1200 clues but I’m glad you got enough to figure it out!”) that there would be a tragedy, and it was obvious which character it would befall, and I was like “could we please have one thing that isn’t tragic!” but it was well done and so emotionally charged (slash manipulating no jk I’m okay) that I was pretty much ugly crying for the last 20 minutes. And sure that’s not the rarest occurrence during quality musical theatre but there does need to be a legitimate connection forged.
I was disappointed at first that it seems very much ‘play with music’ rather than ‘musical’, because aside from Laura Pitt-Pulver’s Act I solo, the music wasn’t actually driving story or fleshing out the characters; it was just using music to have music. But the second act’s songs were more purposeful, I think…or maybe I got less angry about it. Both good options! The first post-P.Pulver’s-sad-I-Want-song-to actually-be-about-the-action song (actually it was about half that song, because at first it seemed like another ‘let’s have someone in the ensemble grab a mic and just sing one of these songs’ but then it turned into actually being about the action in a nice little switcherooround) was a catchy super-belted number from LPP’s estranged girlfriend that we heard so much about (LPP’s Poppy (like my dog!) had talked incessantly about her ex Nicky but I knew immediately that it was a garl Nikki because no boys are called Nicky anymore but Z thought that was a well hidden surprise; I guess he didn’t realize the Nicky change of our generation). I was like ‘oh wow this chick has a super strong belt…this chick sounds familiar…THIS CHICK IS BLOODY ELLE!’ As in the best show we saw a few years back at the Fringe, Bloody Elle (real name Lauryn Redding)! So that was a lovely surprise.
The weaving together of the three well-balanced timelines feels fluid and unforced. Important historical events and political attitudes are noted, affecting the characters but not inserted forcibly or in a heavy-handed manner (hooray for storytelling and not the new wave of ‘here is what you should think!’ storyshouting). Like with our Liberian refugee family, the audience can remember for themselves how important it is for Britain to have open borders, and with our coal miner ’60s men railing against Thatcher, audiences can think ‘were some of these men in Billy Elliot’. The ways the stories connect (or not! no spoilers!) are initially revealed with subtlety that was a breath of fresh air in modern playwriting. Even though this theatre feels enormous (and breathable! all this air!) and the show tries to fill that space with loud noise and some big production numbers, it ends up feeling like an intimate little show that cuts you real deep, Shrek, which is pretty special.
INFO
SATSE (fun to say!) plays the Gillian Lynne theatre until August 3.
I LOVE this theatre. All the seats have decent legroom and more importantly, they have really high backs, so no one coughs into your hair.
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“Sunset Boulevard” in London: Glenn Close is Amazing, That’s All That Matters
For some unknown reason (*cough* sexism *cough* misogyny), the biggest roles for women in musical theatre are characters considered past their prime, doomed to fail, and most importantly cah-freaking-razy, with the crazy level ranging from simmering to boiling to overflowing and knocking the pot off the stove, all in one big belting song. Oh and written by men, naturally, but that’s because female composers aren’t given as much opportunity just as in any field and you know what, that’s an issue for another day. Today, we are talking about the current toast of the West End, “Sunset Boulevard” starring the astonishing Glenn Close. (Just Sunday evening, Imelda Staunton won an Olivier Award (rightly so) for her performance in “Gypsy” as the other extremely important crazy-old-lady musical theatre role in a production that was the toast of London last year. Funnily enough, the last great Mama Rose in “Gypsy” on Broadway was Patti LuPone, and in 1993 Patti famously originated the role of Norma Desmond in “Sunset” in London and was supposed to open it on Broadway but Andrew Lloyd Webber? hates her! she hates him too! And he cast Glenn Close for the Broadway version without telling Patti. Musical theatre trivia is FLAMES.)
Last night, “Sunset Boulevard” opened in London for the first time since that original production more than 20 years ago, starring original Broadway lead Glenn Close for her West End debut. (I saw the show’s first preview Friday night, but given that the preview period was only one weekend, I believe no changes were made.) As Norma Desmond, Glenn is riveting and haunting, carefully releasing the crazy rope with the utmost control so you believe every step of her journey. You believe it, you don’t support it. No one in the show is likeable, which is hard, but the whole purpose of this production is Glenn’s performance. Despite the source material specifying that Norma is 50 years old, Glenn is perfectly cast now as the aging former queen of silent film, at almost 70 years old herself. When the movie first came out, 50 being the age of haggard and scary old ladies whose I don’t know skin and toes fall off if you startle them seemed acceptable, but now that’s just laughable, so yeah, this is a good if unspoken change.
As you probably know from the movie and if you don’t you should go watch it, Norma Desmond used to be the biggest star in Hollywood, the most important and greatest face in silent films, but then she stopped having a 1 in front of her age and everyone was like bye Felicia, you gross and old, like not just for this movie, like for the earth. So she did what most celebrities do when they lose their status but still have lots of money – she became a recluse in her enormous, gaudy mansh on Sunset Boulevard (get it, that’s the title, and it’s where she lives), with only her creepy AF manservant Max tending to her day and night. When young screenwriter Joe Gillis lands at the house trying to flee from old-timey gangstas (fedoras, suits, and all), Norma is ecstatic that this handsome man can a) help her with her behemoth script for her comeback film ‘Salome’ (though she spits on the word comeback, hates it!) and b) be her kept boy for all kinds of gross things. Let’s talk about Joe for a minute. Joe sucks. Joe wears terrible pants but thinks he’s hot shit. He’s apparently behind on bills, and that’s why the gangstas are after him and his car, but like, are they so wrong? Does he really owe them money? What kind of business did he get himself into? What kind of man flees from his responsibilities and shacks up with a strange (both meanings) lady just because it’s super comfortable and he likes fancy things and doesn’t care about dignity? Such a weak-willed diddadoof. You’re like, who’s supposed to care that he gets shot? Me? Oh you’re serious? No. Oh, not a spoiler p.s., even if you haven’t seen the movie it’s not, because before a word of the play is spoken there is a body floating (hanging from wires) in the pool (over the very coolly lit orchestra pit), dressed in the clothes Joe is wearing. So you’re like, oh cool at least it ends well.
Glenn is in such control that she actually makes you understand Norma. Instead of playing her at full-tilt psycho like she easily could be, she vacillates between batty and harmless to delusional to dangerous and psychotic and all things in between with expert restraint. You easily see the changes that Joe’s company brings to her and in turn the changes she undergoes when threatened with his departure, so that at the end, when she is lost in her delusions (with her famous “I’m ready for my close-up” line) you are there with her, accepting her lunacy completely and not in a detached way that a lesser actress might leave you. She effectively shows that some roles are meant to be played by an actress that sings and not a singer who acts. Fully the former, Glenn’s acting is indeed beyond wonderful, but her singing is pretty wrecked. And this is actually so powerful that it seems impossible that the character could be performed any other way. Several years ago, when “Next to Normal” came out, reviewers said Alice Ripley’s raw and ragged vocal performance was like a razor’s edge that cut you to the core. (Alice Ripley has a fantastic voice; the raggedness was a mixture of acting choice and the role tearing her apart emotionally and physically. And it was spectacular.) Glenn’s voice here is like that but 100x more pronounced. It’s frayed and uneven and reminded me of woven baskets for unidentifiable reasons, but at times it is that same blade cutting through everything else. Somehow, oddly, her quieter, seemingly easier parts were where she faltered most, and then on the big numbers with huge belted high notes, she delivered on those! The exact opposite of what you would expect from a normal person. In a role like this, all of this totally worked because she is supposed to be very damaged but strong in her delusions. And, it showed that she was acting the songs above all, which is most important. Given that her two big numbers, “With One Look” and “As If We Never Said Goodbye” are also the most famous and most important songs of the show, it’s pretty wonderful that those are the ones she fully delivered on. No matter the reasons why they stood apart, as long as they did.
I am saying repeatedly that Glenn’s acting is what makes this show worth seeing (not that you can get tickets really; it’s sold out and ending in a month). That’s because it’s a crap show otherwise. This production is done exceedingly well, but it’s a crap show underneath. With music by Andrew Lloyd Webber and lyrics and book by people who aren’t peculiar billionaires, “Sunset” has 3 strong songs and then a WHOLE BUNCH of terrible, mind-numbing recitative repeated. You get the schmoozy “Let’s Have Lunch” at the beginning, which does establish the era and the schmooziness of makin’ pictures back then, but I don’t see how that demonstration is worth the sacrifice of art, enjoyment, pleasure, musicality, anything else. What about hooking the audience and building excitement? It’s just bleh. Who cares if it tells you what decade we’re in – costumes can do that better, and oh yeah, everyone seeing this already knows. This past week, my showtune rotation has been stuck on “Ragtime” and “In The Heights”, two great shows with impressive, blood-pumping, heart-racing openings. I love a good opening number. “Sunset” doesn’t have one, and so it becomes incredibly easy not to care about the story. And then immediately we go into “Every Movie’s A Circus”, which introduces us to Betty (a fine-voiced Siobhan Dillon) and the melody that will be repeated 1000000 times before the curtain falls. See, at first, you hear the melody of “Every (beat) movie’s a circus” and think, whatever, not exactly inspired music or lyrics but let’s move on to better things. But no, you never get to move on to better things because this melody is repeated for Every. Single. Book Scene. That and one other motif are repeated ad nauseam, and I mean nauseam. Someone decided that it would be a good idea if all the dialogue were sung to the same shitty melody over and over again, so much so that people (cough husband cough) were ready to cut off their ears if it meant being spared yet another tortuous go-round. Sometimes repeated recitative melody works, like for example in “Hamilton”, you get the melody from “Daddy said to be home by sundown” “Daddy doesn’t need to know” repeated several times throughout the show, as well as other core motifs. But they have purpose and meaning in their repetition, and they don’t beat you over the head with it so consistently that you want to beat your own head. It got physically painful to hear towards the end, when things are supposed to be dramatic and changing and you’re feeling the climax build and then like a sad clown coming back for a lame joke you get that same bullshit “every (beat) something’s a something” and it takes all your might not to F-ING SCREAM from the front of the dress circle to JUST STOP IT. 80% of this score is the stuff that gets played on the Sirius XM Broadway channel that makes my dad yell “Who do they think wants to listen to this schlock! Play the good stuff!” And sure, you could be arguing, ‘hey you even said there were 3 really strong songs and a few fine ones, so why complain about the recitative parts or say this isn’t a great show’ and I will answer because those repetitious sung book scenes were completely unnecessary, and unnecessary bullshit garbage makes me angry. There was no reason the book scenes couldn’t have been spoken instead of repeating the 2 motifs over and over beyond all semblance of purpose.
The opening of Act II, Joe’s big title number, is so much stronger than every other non-Glenn moment, thank goodness for that (although some of the lyrics are super cringe-worthy). Right before this number, to start the act, Joe emerges from the ‘pool’ in only a skimpy bathing suit, and someone in the balcony started applauding (he’s quite ripped) and then others joined in. It was hilarious. Joe is played by Michael Xavier, and he did a fine job with a terrible character. He really showed us Joe’s grappling with his own pitifulness and desperation and, by the end, self-loathing. Another very strong non-Glenn aspect was Fred Johanson as Max, Norma’s steadfast butler/servant/assistant and, we find out, former director and first husband. I feel like in the movie this latter revelation felt much more revelatory, but here it was stated and then completely glossed over, robbing it of all dramatic potential. Very odd. But great news, Johanson has a terrifically booming operatic voice and actually sang a non-annoying song very well. When we finally got to his solo number, husband actually sighed in relief and said at least someone up there can sing. No but seriously it was nice to hear. His voice in this cacophony of whatever was 100% in “Love Actually” when the little girls ask Hugh Grant to sing a carol and he starts singing “Old King Wenceslas” and then his driver joins in and has this enormous strong baritone and Hugh’s like whaaaat! That’s what Max is to this production. I mean, Glenn Close is still Hugh Grant and that’s why you’re watching, but it’s nice to hear a strong voice cut in.
Siobhan Dillon as Betty also has a beautiful voice, but by the time she gets to show off, it’s late in Act II and you’ve learned by now that Betty is a thankless character with no chemistry with Joe, and thank goodness for it, because as we established earlier, Joe sucks, and Betty has a good life ahead of her and is better off without him. So they have this big love-song duet that is supposed to be very emotional, but you feel absolutely zero anythings for them and just want them to stop so the story can get back on track.
But none of this matters because Glenn Close is giving a tour de force performance, a masterclass in acting, a role for the ages, and every other cliché you can think of. But it’s true. It was incredible to see her in such a defining role for the first time in so many years. All around, it’s just special. This production is staged more like a concert, extremely pared down with the sets just composed of dark industrial metal staircases going this way and that, a stray sofa or table brought in for various scenes, and an extravagant, almost ghastly Phantom-style chandelier coming down to represent the mansion. At first, I was upset not to get a garishly lavish set, but then I realized it was so much better this way, for two reasons: 1) No set could really live up to how extravagant the house is supposed to be; it would just be a underdeveloped attempt at showing it. This way, our imaginations more easily filled in the blanks. 2) The bare bones set let Glenn shine through even brighter. There were no distractions from her performance, and her performance is really all that matters here. Along with the rest of the audiences this month, I’m lucky to have seen her in this role.
AUDIENCE
Several phones lit up, especially from the big wigs in tuxes with buckets of champagne on ice in the private boxes. I mean, there is something about the entitlement of the upper class. Otherwise, the audience was extra attentive and extra vehement in its praise, with boisterous shouts of “Bravo!” from many members every time Glenn did something. It felt almost too much but she was great, so, there you go.
STAGE DOOR
It was a mess. The guards had no idea what they were doing and after 45 minutes realized that they had to move the enormous crowd to make room for Glenn’s car right up front. They need to set up much longer barricades and hire a guard that has any clue what to do. I waited an hour and then gave up; the crowd was too pushy to deal with. Other cast members came out but walked right away, assuming no one was waiting for them. An hour I would like back please.
As you probably know from the movie and if you don’t you should go watch it, Norma Desmond used to be the biggest star in Hollywood, the most important and greatest face in silent films, but then she stopped having a 1 in front of her age and everyone was like bye Felicia, you gross and old, like not just for this movie, like for the earth. So she did what most celebrities do when they lose their status but still have lots of money – she became a recluse in her enormous, gaudy mansh on Sunset Boulevard (get it, that’s the title, and it’s where she lives), with only her creepy AF manservant Max tending to her day and night. When young screenwriter Joe Gillis lands at the house trying to flee from old-timey gangstas (fedoras, suits, and all), Norma is ecstatic that this handsome man can a) help her with her behemoth script for her comeback film ‘Salome’ (though she spits on the word comeback, hates it!) and b) be her kept boy for all kinds of gross things. Let’s talk about Joe for a minute. Joe sucks. Joe wears terrible pants but thinks he’s hot shit. He’s apparently behind on bills, and that’s why the gangstas are after him and his car, but like, are they so wrong? Does he really owe them money? What kind of business did he get himself into? What kind of man flees from his responsibilities and shacks up with a strange (both meanings) lady just because it’s super comfortable and he likes fancy things and doesn’t care about dignity? Such a weak-willed diddadoof. You’re like, who’s supposed to care that he gets shot? Me? Oh you’re serious? No. Oh, not a spoiler p.s., even if you haven’t seen the movie it’s not, because before a word of the play is spoken there is a body floating (hanging from wires) in the pool (over the very coolly lit orchestra pit), dressed in the clothes Joe is wearing. So you’re like, oh cool at least it ends well.
Glenn is in such control that she actually makes you understand Norma. Instead of playing her at full-tilt psycho like she easily could be, she vacillates between batty and harmless to delusional to dangerous and psychotic and all things in between with expert restraint. You easily see the changes that Joe’s company brings to her and in turn the changes she undergoes when threatened with his departure, so that at the end, when she is lost in her delusions (with her famous “I’m ready for my close-up” line) you are there with her, accepting her lunacy completely and not in a detached way that a lesser actress might leave you. She effectively shows that some roles are meant to be played by an actress that sings and not a singer who acts. Fully the former, Glenn’s acting is indeed beyond wonderful, but her singing is pretty wrecked. And this is actually so powerful that it seems impossible that the character could be performed any other way. Several years ago, when “Next to Normal” came out, reviewers said Alice Ripley’s raw and ragged vocal performance was like a razor’s edge that cut you to the core. (Alice Ripley has a fantastic voice; the raggedness was a mixture of acting choice and the role tearing her apart emotionally and physically. And it was spectacular.) Glenn’s voice here is like that but 100x more pronounced. It’s frayed and uneven and reminded me of woven baskets for unidentifiable reasons, but at times it is that same blade cutting through everything else. Somehow, oddly, her quieter, seemingly easier parts were where she faltered most, and then on the big numbers with huge belted high notes, she delivered on those! The exact opposite of what you would expect from a normal person. In a role like this, all of this totally worked because she is supposed to be very damaged but strong in her delusions. And, it showed that she was acting the songs above all, which is most important. Given that her two big numbers, “With One Look” and “As If We Never Said Goodbye” are also the most famous and most important songs of the show, it’s pretty wonderful that those are the ones she fully delivered on. No matter the reasons why they stood apart, as long as they did.
I am saying repeatedly that Glenn’s acting is what makes this show worth seeing (not that you can get tickets really; it’s sold out and ending in a month). That’s because it’s a crap show otherwise. This production is done exceedingly well, but it’s a crap show underneath. With music by Andrew Lloyd Webber and lyrics and book by people who aren’t peculiar billionaires, “Sunset” has 3 strong songs and then a WHOLE BUNCH of terrible, mind-numbing recitative repeated. You get the schmoozy “Let’s Have Lunch” at the beginning, which does establish the era and the schmooziness of makin’ pictures back then, but I don’t see how that demonstration is worth the sacrifice of art, enjoyment, pleasure, musicality, anything else. What about hooking the audience and building excitement? It’s just bleh. Who cares if it tells you what decade we’re in – costumes can do that better, and oh yeah, everyone seeing this already knows. This past week, my showtune rotation has been stuck on “Ragtime” and “In The Heights”, two great shows with impressive, blood-pumping, heart-racing openings. I love a good opening number. “Sunset” doesn’t have one, and so it becomes incredibly easy not to care about the story. And then immediately we go into “Every Movie’s A Circus”, which introduces us to Betty (a fine-voiced Siobhan Dillon) and the melody that will be repeated 1000000 times before the curtain falls. See, at first, you hear the melody of “Every (beat) movie’s a circus” and think, whatever, not exactly inspired music or lyrics but let’s move on to better things. But no, you never get to move on to better things because this melody is repeated for Every. Single. Book Scene. That and one other motif are repeated ad nauseam, and I mean nauseam. Someone decided that it would be a good idea if all the dialogue were sung to the same shitty melody over and over again, so much so that people (cough husband cough) were ready to cut off their ears if it meant being spared yet another tortuous go-round. Sometimes repeated recitative melody works, like for example in “Hamilton”, you get the melody from “Daddy said to be home by sundown” “Daddy doesn’t need to know” repeated several times throughout the show, as well as other core motifs. But they have purpose and meaning in their repetition, and they don’t beat you over the head with it so consistently that you want to beat your own head. It got physically painful to hear towards the end, when things are supposed to be dramatic and changing and you’re feeling the climax build and then like a sad clown coming back for a lame joke you get that same bullshit “every (beat) something’s a something” and it takes all your might not to F-ING SCREAM from the front of the dress circle to JUST STOP IT. 80% of this score is the stuff that gets played on the Sirius XM Broadway channel that makes my dad yell “Who do they think wants to listen to this schlock! Play the good stuff!” And sure, you could be arguing, ‘hey you even said there were 3 really strong songs and a few fine ones, so why complain about the recitative parts or say this isn’t a great show’ and I will answer because those repetitious sung book scenes were completely unnecessary, and unnecessary bullshit garbage makes me angry. There was no reason the book scenes couldn’t have been spoken instead of repeating the 2 motifs over and over beyond all semblance of purpose.
The opening of Act II, Joe’s big title number, is so much stronger than every other non-Glenn moment, thank goodness for that (although some of the lyrics are super cringe-worthy). Right before this number, to start the act, Joe emerges from the ‘pool’ in only a skimpy bathing suit, and someone in the balcony started applauding (he’s quite ripped) and then others joined in. It was hilarious. Joe is played by Michael Xavier, and he did a fine job with a terrible character. He really showed us Joe’s grappling with his own pitifulness and desperation and, by the end, self-loathing. Another very strong non-Glenn aspect was Fred Johanson as Max, Norma’s steadfast butler/servant/assistant and, we find out, former director and first husband. I feel like in the movie this latter revelation felt much more revelatory, but here it was stated and then completely glossed over, robbing it of all dramatic potential. Very odd. But great news, Johanson has a terrifically booming operatic voice and actually sang a non-annoying song very well. When we finally got to his solo number, husband actually sighed in relief and said at least someone up there can sing. No but seriously it was nice to hear. His voice in this cacophony of whatever was 100% in “Love Actually” when the little girls ask Hugh Grant to sing a carol and he starts singing “Old King Wenceslas” and then his driver joins in and has this enormous strong baritone and Hugh’s like whaaaat! That’s what Max is to this production. I mean, Glenn Close is still Hugh Grant and that’s why you’re watching, but it’s nice to hear a strong voice cut in.
Siobhan Dillon as Betty also has a beautiful voice, but by the time she gets to show off, it’s late in Act II and you’ve learned by now that Betty is a thankless character with no chemistry with Joe, and thank goodness for it, because as we established earlier, Joe sucks, and Betty has a good life ahead of her and is better off without him. So they have this big love-song duet that is supposed to be very emotional, but you feel absolutely zero anythings for them and just want them to stop so the story can get back on track.
But none of this matters because Glenn Close is giving a tour de force performance, a masterclass in acting, a role for the ages, and every other cliché you can think of. But it’s true. It was incredible to see her in such a defining role for the first time in so many years. All around, it’s just special. This production is staged more like a concert, extremely pared down with the sets just composed of dark industrial metal staircases going this way and that, a stray sofa or table brought in for various scenes, and an extravagant, almost ghastly Phantom-style chandelier coming down to represent the mansion. At first, I was upset not to get a garishly lavish set, but then I realized it was so much better this way, for two reasons: 1) No set could really live up to how extravagant the house is supposed to be; it would just be a underdeveloped attempt at showing it. This way, our imaginations more easily filled in the blanks. 2) The bare bones set let Glenn shine through even brighter. There were no distractions from her performance, and her performance is really all that matters here. Along with the rest of the audiences this month, I’m lucky to have seen her in this role.
AUDIENCE
Several phones lit up, especially from the big wigs in tuxes with buckets of champagne on ice in the private boxes. I mean, there is something about the entitlement of the upper class. Otherwise, the audience was extra attentive and extra vehement in its praise, with boisterous shouts of “Bravo!” from many members every time Glenn did something. It felt almost too much but she was great, so, there you go.
STAGE DOOR
It was a mess. The guards had no idea what they were doing and after 45 minutes realized that they had to move the enormous crowd to make room for Glenn’s car right up front. They need to set up much longer barricades and hire a guard that has any clue what to do. I waited an hour and then gave up; the crowd was too pushy to deal with. Other cast members came out but walked right away, assuming no one was waiting for them. An hour I would like back please.
Helen Hunt is Great, Appropriately Infuriating in Old Vic’s Eureka Day
For 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!