It's Yucatanfastic: Merida, Uxmal, Mexican Chocolate, & More Cenotesby Randi / September 3, 2019It’s Theatre Thursday! We’re celebrating a FANTASTIC week of theatre-going by looking at not one, not two, but THREE great-to-fantastic shows…that all sadly closed on Saturday. However, they’re all established shows that we should see future productions of fairly soon.
H.M.S. Pinafore at Wilton’s Music Hall
Whenever a Gilbert & Sullivan classic comes to Wilton’s Music Hall, we’re there. Well, whenever anything comes to Wilton’s we’re there, because they’re our neighbors. Hey neighbors! But their G&S productions are without fail hysterical, in a way that really lets the comic masterpieces shine. Thanks to the Opera Della Luna company, the recent H.M.S. Pinafore continued the trend, with their game cast showing off their perfect comedic timing.
With an ensemble of just 8 players, many changing in and out of several roles, Opera Della Luna energetically tells the tale of the poor sailor in love with the captain’s daughter, the captain’s daughter who loves him back but is promised to an admiral, the absurdly funny captain who never (well, hardly ever) uses bad language, and all the confusion and hilarity that abounds aboard the ship.
For those of you unfamiliar with the 1878 comic opera, it takes place on a docked British warship. An older woman named Buttercup comes on board to sell some ‘wares’ which no matter what the context or show or painting always looks like a basket full of ribbon, which is like, not what I’d expect sailors to need on board. Ralph Rackstraw, a sailor in the fleet, comes on deck and pretends to buy from Buttercup and then doesn’t, which as someone who ran a vegan bakery stall on Brick Lane for six months I can tell you is really shitty behavior. Nothing more frustrating. Anyway Ralph is like ‘no I don’t need ribbon but I LOVEEEE JOSEPHINEEEE’ who is the captain’s lovely daughter (with the best voice in the cast). The other sailors are like ‘avast ye matey, she’s the captain’s daughter so she can’t be with you.’ And then the captain, Captain Corcoran, comes on deck and sings his famous song about how he ‘hardly ever’ does a bunch of stuff and is HILARIOUS and I wish that I could find the name of the actor from the ODL website but it’s incredibly confusing and I think only has the 2000-era cast lists for this show up because I googled the names and they don’t look like who I need the name of, guys, so please tell whoever plays Corcoran how great he is.
The captain talks to the old lady Buttercup and they def have some history or future or something going on, but there’s no time for that because the Admiral that Josephine’s set to marry comes aboard (never seen so much coming and going on a ship) with his sister, his cousin, and his aunt and he sings a forking hilarious song introducing himself and his sister, his cousin, and his aunt. The Admiral is a bumbling fool who despite being in a very high position in the Queen’s Navee knows nothing about the sea or sailing, like most men in power. He also thinks the Captain should say ‘if you please’ to his sailors whenever giving orders. The Admiral and the Captain are comedic gold and definitely the standouts here, although they do have the two best roles.
After the Admiral, Sir Joseph, sings about how British sailors are any man’s equal – except, of course, his own – Ralph is buoyed by the thought and confesses his love to Josephine. She loves him back, but knows her duty is to marry the goofy old man so JUST LIKE NIKKI K HIGH-KICKING IT DOWN AT THE MOULIN ROUGE, she pretends not to love Ralph back which is like RULE #1 of farcey romcoms and lies IN ORDER TO SAVE HIM. HURT HIM, TO SAVE HIM, as the wise and scary Jim Broadbent told Nikki K before she didn’t win the Oscar she should have won.
Ralph threatens to kill himself due to his broken heart and his shipmates are like ‘eh them’s the breaks matey’, surprisingly cool with the very bad plan, but the luckily Josephine enters again and sees him and is like NO DON’T I LOVE YOU, and while I’m sure there are examples of this very shitty plot device in older works, for now I’m going to blame Pinafore for giving weak misogynists this ploy in their arsenal, that if a pretty woman doesn’t love them they should threaten to kill themselves so they know it’s ‘their fault if they die’ which is SOME REAL MISOGYNIST GASLIGHTY BULLSHIT.
My only real complaint with the story though; the rest is so fun and ridiculous.
In Act II, Sir Joseph complains to the captain that Josephine hasn’t officially accepted his proposal yet and he’s like wahhhh just make your teenage daughter marry my old ass alreadyyyyy, and the Captain suggests that maybe she’s overwhelmed by his lofty rank and feels he’s too far above her. Sir Joseph says pish posh and sings a song arguing that love ‘levels all ranks’, which he doesn’t realize, of course, is arguing that Josephine and Ralph should be able to marry despite their different ranks. DRAMATIC IRONY.
Josephine and Ralph plan to leave the ship and elope but the Captain catches them and is unmoved by their protestations of love, saying – historically noteworthy because omg he said like the worst word ever uttered on stage at that time – “why damn, it’s too bad!” I KNOW! bad. Sir Joseph is horrified by the bad language and confines the Captain to his quarters. Sir Joseph asks the crew what happened to make the Captain CURSE SO BAD, Ralph spills the beans about him and Josephine, which Sir Joseph does NOT like, and so he orders Ralph to be loaded with chains and taken to the brig, which is shipcute for jail! We definitely need a completely random deus ex machina to save Ralph from this fate right about now guys! Oh good, here comes one in the form of a revelation from random lady Buttercup: She steps forward and reveals to the crew that many years ago, she practiced BABY FARMING, and she cared for two babies, one of low birth, one upper-class, and she mixed the babies up. OKAY IT SOUNDS LIKE A WAR CRIME, this baby farming, but what of this now? Well the two babies – are you ready – were RALPH AND THE CAPTAIN. So CLEARLY the big revelation is supposed to be ‘oh wow, Ralph is actually of noble birth and the Captain is the lowly one, so their troubles with the whole marriage issue are over if Ralph chooses!’ but the real revelation is HOT FUCK RALPH IS THE SAME AGE AS THE *FATHER* OF THE WOMAN HE LOVES OMG THAT IS GROSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. So Ralph is like 20 years older give or take the era-appropriate standard deviation than the girl he loves?? Blech. Josephine RUN/swim.
So instead of like taking a beat and realizing how stupid the whole idea of noble blood is and how they’ve lived in the ‘wrong’ lives long enough to prove that, instead RALPH AND THE CAPTAIN SWITCH POSITIONS. Ralph literally puts on Corcoran’s uniform, says “I’M THE CAPTAIN NOW”, and Corcoran becomes a lowly sailor. WAT. Didn’t the captain earn his captaincy? Like wtf. Obviously, Josephine, the daughter of a sailor, is now too low for the Admiral to marry, so she and Ralph are cleared for takeoff despite their truly gross age difference. And now, since Corcoran is a lowly sailor, he can up and marry…Buttercup! LIKE WTF. SHE JUST RUINED YOUR LIFE. And why did it take her so long to share? What an asshole!
Anyway it was amazing.
Dogfight and Once on this Island at the Southwark Playhouse
If anyone, for whatever bad reason, was worrying about the future talent pool in Britain, there’s no need to worry. The British Theatre Academy’s two fantastic youth productions that played the Southwark Theatre in August were both brimming with impressive young talent, up to the task of handling two challenging – and two of my all-time favorite – shows. We all know how overprotective I can be of things that are my faves, and how attached I am to past great productions. My review of the recent Broadway revivial of Once on this Island is pretty much me saying OMG OMG OMG THIS IS AMAZING OMG OMG OMG OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW MAGICAL IT’S AMAZING MAGIC for like 4 pages.
But despite my high standards for my (not mine) truly beloved show, the BTA yoots blew me away. Despite the smaller space, budget, experience level, everything, the yoots put on a show that was just as magical and moving and TRIUMPHANT as I could have hoped. Lee Proud’s clever direction captured all the thrills that elevate the story, from the Ti Moune switch (which never fails to make me sob, even when I’m just listening to the cast recording and know it’s that part) to the charming representation of the chirping birds. His equally fantastic choreography brought to mind the greatest parts of Camille A. Brown’s work on Broadway (which should have won the Tony), with powerful and vigorous ensemble dance numbers the most compelling and exciting.
What was done with this small space and barely any props or set truly begs for another longer run, or a transfer. Since I saw the Broadway revival, I’ve read the infamous words of Brandon Victor Dixon condemning this show, and I was prepared to see what he meant regarding the issues in the story, now that I was enlightened. But such a lovely, blissful production made it hard to agree with him. And sure, as a white person I’m not the person to comment on whether the show’s attempt to comment on issues of race fail and it becomes itself racist. But the audience, filled with people of all backgrounds, all jumped to their feet at the end faster than I’ve ever seen, weeping and cheering. It’s hard to find fault with a show that does that.
And that ensemble, man alive, the talent on display was so uplifting. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives (especially my favorite boy ensemblist who was just SO young and SO happy, and I was just so happy for him) and that kind of joy was infectious. The standout performer for me, who as a casting agent I’d be keeping an eye on, was Aviva Tulley, who played the goddess of love Erzulie. Her natural ease and grace suggested a performer of much more experience. Others in the cast, like Ti Moune (the very talented Chrissie Bhime) and Euralie, will need to work on melting into their characters more and not obviously Acting, but for a youth ensemble they’re all ahead of where you’d expect.
We found it really interesting that both our Ti Moune and our Rose, in Dogfight, both frequently tended to speak the ends of sung lyrics for emphasis instead of acting through their singing, which is definitely one key technique to work on. But like our Ti Moune, our Rose (the roles are double cast and nowhere in the programme or theatre was our show’s cast listed, which is a shame, because I’d like to give her her due) was otherwise very impressive. She gave an added nerdy awkwardness to Rose’s self-consciousness that was different from any other production of Dogfight I’ve seen, and it worked. (It reminded both of us of Ben Platt’s Evan Hansen tics.) I was also greatly impressed by our Eddie. With Dogfight, no set is required (and as this one was in the Southwark’s “Little”, the black box room, there was none), but the story needs shrewd and careful direction to sing as it’s meant to. Dean Johnson’s direction definitely let the story land properly, as did the talent. It could be because we were all so close in that tiny room, but I was struck more than ever at how the soldiers’ reprise of their anthem was being sung out of heartbreaking desperation, a need to convince themselves that they were special and that what they were doing was guaranteed to garner them a homecoming parade, because if they stop thinking that for one second, they’ll realize they’re probably going to die. This was so well done, making you feel for the soldiers even though they’ve already established that they’re mostly bad people. And that’s the beauty of Dogfight, telling so effectively a character-driven story that lets you recognize the humanity in people that you might hate, and maybe their ability to change, which felt incredibly relevant in today’s culture.
Hopefully another production, or another run of these productions, will be coming to London again soon, because it was quite wonderful to see such strong work.
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Broadway’s “Fiddler on the Roof”: It Might Be Over But Nope It’s Never Over
“Fiddler on the Roof” is an important show for so many reasons. It’s a golden age classic with a memorable score that has held up today. It’s up there with other classics like “The Sound of Music” and “Singin’ in the Rain” in terms of how important they were to my upbringing and development. But most significantly, Fiddler is a consistent reminder to a people who apparently need consistent reminding that the fight against racism and fascism is a serious one, a terrible one, and an apparently never-ending one. “Fiddler” has never been as relevant in my lifetime as it is today, as we grapple with the shock and terror of the government discriminating against an entire religion again. Despite this fantastic revival closing over a month ago on Broadway, I’m still thinking about it regularly, about how fantastic this cast and production were, how moved I was at moments that I never really cared for before, how yet again theatre exactly reflects the struggles of humans today. I don’t usually write about things I’ve seen that have long since closed, but I have been thinking about it constantly and about how important it is to keep talking about the issues raised by this beautiful show and to add to the chorus of sane people who don’t think religious persecution is okay.
If you aren’t familiar with “Fiddler on the Roof”, a) I don’t know how you put pants on and b) you really should rent the movie at the very least. IT IS A MARVELOUS CLASSIC. It’s about a poor milkman named Tevye who lives with his wife Golde in Anatevka, a small village in Russia in the early 1900s, right about when the violent pogroms of that decade (not to be confused with violent pogroms of other decades) were happening. Tevye’s favorite thing to kvetch about is that he has five daughters. “Five?” “Five!” he always answers in a way that conveys how hard it is and also how proud he is. Tzeitel is the oldest, and she is in love with her best friend, the tailor Motel Kamzoil, in an era when marriages were arranged. Hodel is the next oldest, followed by Chava. We follow these three as they fall in love and deal with the ramifications of their choices, when they aren’t supposed to be making any choices. We also have Shprintze and Bielke, the little ones who don’t do much but for damn sure will be the names of two of my future dogs.
If you’ve only seen the movie with Topol, then you still know how great the show and the score are and Topol is on your list of Top Five Mosts. Or maybe you have seen footage of original Tevye, Zero Mostel, or at least have the original Broadway cast recording and love Zero. Topol and Zero set the bar for most Tevyes to be somewhat comical and often over-the-top, as well as establishing the unwritten rule that actors playing Tevye have ridiculous names. But Danny Burstein turned all of that on its head, surprisingly, but beautifully. First of all, his name is Danny. Second of all, his Tevye was more grounded, warmer, and unbelievably charming. His humor – and there was so much of it – came not from the usual comic broadness but more from a place of warmth, sincerity, and Elmo-levels of adorableness. In fact, I would not have been surprised if his Tevye had been given an extra song called “The Letter of the Day” (p.s. my favorite song). He does get angry and mean at times, of course, but it’s more believable and moving because he built up that earnest and loving foundation. He’s a much more rounded and authentic character because of it.
And he wasn’t the only stunningly authentic aspect of this revival. More than any other production of Fiddler, this revival felt real, like it was happening in real life. I mean maybe that’s because it is, actually, happening in some form, and in America no less. But the family and the townspeople came across as people I felt like I knew, whose struggles I cared about sincerely. The sparse set of the farm and the effective lighting helped Danny tell his story in a way that made me forget I was in a theatre. (Well, until the grown ass adults who don’t know how to behave in the theatre needed to be shushed behind me.)
As soon as it began, this production distinguished itself from all others. Bartlett Sher, one of the greatest directors today of golden age musicals, used a very controversial framing device to open and close the show. At the start, Burstein walked onto the stage in modern clothes, wearing a red ski jacket, bare-headed, and he looked around Anatevka while holding a book – the book that Fiddler was originally based on, Tevye And His Daughters, by Sholem-Aleichem (pen name obvs). He said the famous opening line of the show – regarding the precarious perch of a fiddler on the roof, “sounds crazy, no?” – in this outfit. Then he slowly took off the jacket and put on his Tevye cap and prayer shawl and transformed into Tevye, like he was a modern man exploring his ancestors’ history, going to Anatevka both in person and in the abstract. I’d heard a lot of debate about people loving or hating this tiny update, and I expected to hate such a change to a revered classic, but I thought it was very effective in its message. More on that at the end.
That was the only noticeable difference, and in less than a minute we were off to a rollicking start with “Tradition”. The medium-sized chorus on that cavernous empty stage seemed a little wrong at first but the joy of the song and the enthusiasm of the cast improved it. We then saw a little interaction between Tevye, his wife Golde – one of those great early stereotypes of a shrew who always gives her husband a hard time – and the matchmaker Yente. In her small role, Yente is usually worth her comic weight in gold, and although at first I was resistant to Alix Korey’s more restrained Yente (compared to the usual), she quickly won me over with her hilarious, sarcastic line readings.
As we went into “Matchmaker” I remembered that nearly every song of this score is beloved and memorable. I got even more excited but then kind of disappointed, as “Matchmaker” was the one part I was annoyed with. “Matchmaker” should be a bouncy, energetic song. Yet most of this rendition was slow, thudding along sadly despite the song screaming for liveliness. Also, this is one of Tzeitel’s only real moments to shine, yet I thought the usually-great Alexandra Silber was lackluster. Between her substandard vocals and the too-slow tempo, it was the one low point of the production.
Luckily, the next Top 10 hit on the schedule was “If I Were A Rich Man”. If I were a rich man, I would have made a tie in last year’s Tony Awards so that Danny Burstein could have won a much deserved award despite the existence of Hamilton. He was everything. I am still in awe of his performance. He made this ridiculous song feel important and touching and he was so lovable. His little celebratory shimmy that he did throughout “Rich Man” will stand throughout eternity as one of the Top 3 Shimmies, up there with Hillary Clinton’s Debate Shimmy and John Mulaney’s Realtor Trying to Pressure Him into Having a Baby Shimmy.
Tevye’s relationship with his wife was, as was the trend, also more understandable and moving than I’ve ever seen. This is probably because Danny was amazing and Judy Kuhn, as Golde, was his equal. I was kind of upset not to have caught the original Golde of this production, Jessica Hecht, with her kicky beret. (Hecht was Susan, Ross’s ex-wife’s lesbian lover, throughout the entire run of ‘Friends’. You know her.) But not really, because Judy Kuhn was the most exciting replacement they could have possibly announced. She is always dependable and guaranteed to move you to tears even when she only has one song (one insane killer song) like in “Fun Home”. I loved their bickering and Danny was at his funniest when responding to her. And Judy made Golde, who is usually played harsh in her shrewishness, seem like the grounded reasonable one in the family, more pleasant than ever.
As for the daughterssss the daughters, they were solid in general. As I said before, Silber’s Tzeitel was kind of disappointing considering that she is usually great, but she wasn’t bad. I loved Adam Kantor’s Motel (the tailor Motel Kamzoil, as you always have to say), mainly because he was a dead ringer for every boy who went to my camp. Real Main Line Jewish looking. I would have loved to see him as Jamie in “The Last Five Years”. His “Miracle of Miracles” was joyous and fun, although the blocking felt a little off. He and Tzeitel were far apart a lot, which is weird when they are celebrating their love and impending marriage. I also really enjoyed Samantha Massell’s Hodel. She had a gorgeous voice and her presence just felt right, very appropriate for the role. Melanie Moore’s Chava was very good too. I especially liked that she looked like Keri Russell with that signature pointy chinface and so it was like a small signal that she was going to fall for the Russian. Apparently, she was a winner on ‘So You Think You Can Dance’, which is awesome, so although the little dancing she did was beautiful, I would have loved a lot more, considering.
One of the best scenes ermagerd came really early; I forget how chockfull of winners this show is. “To Life”, the one everyone knows (or is that every other song), was su-freaking-blime. Tevye’s classic miscommunication with Lazar Wolf, when Lazar wants to marry his daughter and Tevye thinks he wants to buy his cow, is as wonderfully chauvinistic as ever and just hilarious in the hands of these actors. Throughout this show, even though you know what’s coming at every step, it’s still so enjoyable. And this is where the choreography from Hofesh Shechter started to shine. This choreography was a big deal, because productions usually use the original choreography or stuff that looks like it. Hofesh, instead, created this energetic and kind of wild choreography that really jumped off the stage and brought new surges of celebration to “To Life” and new levels of meaning to the movement in other scenes, namely the wedding scene, which seemed to go on forever yet ended too soon. It was glorious dancing. Somehow in its frenetic movement, the ensemble looked like they were black charcoal drawings that came to life. So many horizontal lines thrashing about and it really looked like sketch art. It was enthralling and entirely unexpected. I made a big deal last year about how “Shuffle Along” should have won the Tony for Best Choreography over “Hamilton”, but I later changed my mind when I started really looking at the latter’s lyrical movement. However, I honestly think I would have voted for “Fiddler” now; it was that unexpected and impressive. I mean anytime you have Jews in suits doing those super-low quad-burning Russian squat kicks I am IN. But in “To Life” and especially the wedding scene and its ‘bottle dance’, I was blown away by how scrappy and kind of feral the movement seemed and how much I was reminded of etchings. It made me really understand the meaning in movement, as it was obvious that these men (it was mostly the men dancing like this) were dancing for their lives, trying to keep it jubilant but veering towards desperate, reflecting their struggle in their increasingly violently anti-Semitic society.
The scene I was most excited to see on Broadway was the big dream sequence, when Tevye fakes a visit from his grandmother beyond the grave in order to convince Golde to allow Tzeitel to break the engagement with Lazar. Grandma Tzeitel’s little old lady voice always kills me and here was no exception. Danny and Judy were wonderful on their little twin beds too. I was really surprised, however, at how Fruma Sarah, Lazar Wolf’s deceased wife, was done. I expected her to fly. Even in our high school production we had the girl flying around in the rafters like a real scary ghost would. Instead, Fruma Sarah was a giant demon in statue form, wheeling around the stage at maybe 20 feet tall. Really odd! It still worked okay, especially with the ghostface killah ensemble, but I remember thinking this is so weird! Like a giant statue. On wheels. And no flying! Whatevs.
At least one thing that went as expected was how moving “Sunrise, Sunset” would be. It was beautiful and perfect, although every time I hear that song, I can’t help but remember our high school production and how one night our Tevye began the song singing the second verse, and all the kids facing me, with their backs to the audience (so, the other main characters) were cracking up and shaking. Hilarious. This was not hilarious but it was lovely, and followed by the aforementioned impressive extended dance scene, including when the men danced with bottles balanced on their heads. I’m sure they were attached somehow but that didn’t matter. I didn’t want it to end. Well except it’s the last part of Act I and I really had to pee but you get what I’m saying.
The wedding scene is also where the real drama of Fiddler starts to boil over, when it’s no longer about family problems but about an entire people being persecuted. So, it’s when the decent people in the audience start shifting in their seats and going, oh shit, this is familiar. The Russian officers of the village break up the wedding and destroy everything and threaten all the Jews with continued violence. It was devastating to watch even without the real-life context, but with it, it was chilling.
In Act II, the next two daughters, Hodel and Chava, see their frowned-upon romances bloom as Tevye struggles to handle how everything he knew to be sure is falling apart, as the Russians take more control, more violence occurs, and the village hears more news of Jews in similar villages being forced to flee. Whereas before I would be upset with Tevye when his anger erupts at his wife or children, thinking why can’t he just let them be happy, it made a lot more sense to me through Danny’s performance. Everything he knew is changing against his will. All of his traditions are being destroyed, his family is separating in ways he never expected, and his entire way of life is threatened because of his religion. Each part separately would be a lot to handle, so expecting him to retain any semblance of self-control or compassion is expecting too much of one decent man.
As the threat of the Russian takeover builds, Hodel falls in love with the girls’ high-minded revolutionary tutor Perchik, a very political activist who I hope has been reborn today to help fight in this same fight again. Sure he gets sent to Siberia as punishment for his activism but at least he’s fighting injustice. Ben Rappaport did a fine job as our activist, and even though Perchik gets what I think is the ugliest song ever written for musical theatre, “Now I Have Everything”, he made it bearable. Seriously though, it’s such a bad song. It’s really hard to not sound terrible on, and then it ends on the wrong note, kind of like the end of Javert’s Soliloquy when all of a sudden you’re like oh what I was not expecting that note in that key to be where that phrase ended up, but at least for Javert the music swells and changes to make that weird ugly note make sense and it all resolves. Nothing resolves in “Now I Have Everything”, it just stays ugly like nails on a chalkboard as the final ‘wrong’ note just lingers. Yeesh. Hodel’s relationship with Perchik, though very briefly shown, felt believable, mostly because Samantha did a fantastic job with her heartbreaker of a song, “Far From the Home I Love”. These later scenes felt extra touching because the lighting changed with the mood of the show, as Tevye’s heart broke more and more.
Meanwhile, Chava develops a relationship with one of the very Russians destroying their lives, Fyedka. Sure he is one of the nice ones, but he’s still part of the group that is persecuting Tevye and his people. It’s more than Tevye can be asked to manage, and so he orders his daughter to stop seeing him, even though she loves him, because he is the enemy. I always hated Tevye when he disowns Chava after she elopes with Fyedka, but Danny made Tevye’s journey to that decision so convincing that even though it’s cruel I could understand why and how he could do that. It’s the only thing left for him to do in his efforts to keep a handle on what he knows to be true. And his fragile and heartbreaking “Chavelah” was too much for any of us to handle. Ugh it’s so sad.
Then of course there’s no time to mourn because the Russians are forcing all the Jews to flee their homes for who knows where because people are terrible and dogs should rule the planet and make things better. “Anatevka” is as sad as ever, more so because, like I said a hundred times, this is happening again and I don’t want to think about how many people in that audience helped make it happen and/or aren’t doing anything to fight it. We all know now that “Fiddler” is timeless, but who thought that 50 years on it would not only have such a lasting score and important message but that it would be so scarily relevant to what’s going on in our society? This is where the framing device used in this production really paid off. As the villagers wheeled their carts, stuffed with all the belongings they could fit, around the stage to signify their leaving during “Anatevka”, Tevye separated himself without really being noticed and Danny showed up in the modern clothing and the red coat again. As the villagers sang, he watched and then decided to join them, taking the handles of a cart from one of them, breaking through the division between his ancestors’ past and his present, the world he knows and the world whose history he was exploring to show that their fight was his fight and vice versa. He represented us, today, and how we are now facing that same choice of whether to join in that same fight that the people of Anatevka were fighting. It was so effective, and so frightening. It was a small, subtle way to lift this production to even higher levels of quality and emotional significance. I hope that this show, one of the most widely produced musicals ever, continues to be performed and continues to inspire and teach people about religious persecution. And that religious persecution is wrong; I feel the need to clarify nowadays. It’s wrong! Okay? Got it?! good.
Edinburgh Fringe Part 3: The Best of the Fest: “Kathy and Stella Solve a Murder!”, “Bloody Elle”, “Learning to Fly”
We’ve made it the final edition of our Edinburgh Fringe round-up! Like Vanessa Williams before she hammed it up on a telenovela and learned to say “Maaaaark” haughtily (I’m rewatching Ugly Betty), I’ve saved the best for last. I enjoyed all the shows I crammed into my Fringe weekend (which you can catch up on in Part 1 and Part 2 (despite all the cursing I did enjoy everything)), but three shows stood out. Not only were they the best of the fest, they were some of the most moving, most well done, and/or most fun shows I’ve seen in years. YEARS, MARK. These are the gems that stood out, the ones that I truly hope have a long, wide-reaching run once they leave Enbra. (Look at me I’m local now.)
Kathy and Stella Solve a Murder! by Jon Brittain and Matthew Floyd Jones
I am not a fan of true crime anything – not the documentaries, not the serial podcasts (or the Serial podcast), not even the satirical (is it?) comedy (IS IT) ‘Only Murders in the Building’. I don’t even watch the news because I just don’t want to HEAR about MURDER. That line that Baby Apatow says in ‘Knocked Up’ – “I googled murder!” – is the only enjoyable thing in this whole genre for me. That is, until this musical. “Kathy and Stella” tells of two best friends who have a middling true crime podcast (who doesn’t!), but when their favorite author gets murdered, they become embroiled in the case, trying to solve the mystery while also getting the chance to blow up to superstardom (at least as far as murder podcasts go).
Despite the subject matter that normally gives me the heebies and the willies, the entire crowd was laughing the entire time, and I was leading the charge. The show is sensational! (I just finished Mel Brooks’ autobio and I feel like I just quoted him.) The two stars playing Kathy and Stella are equally hilarious and talented, with great singing voices and even better comedic timing. Their every gesture and facial expression was exactly attuned to their characters. So many little lines and looks were somehow hysterical. The whole five person ensemble shines as well, with each person getting a chance to shine, and just when you think you have a favorite, someone else steps forward and does something hysterical/sings something amazing/tells the best joke and steals the crown. I can’t even begin to recount all the times I CACKLED laughing, though I do remember just dying when they were in the police station and Stella said something about them being pigs. The crowd loved that, obvs, we’re good people.
There are so many bops in the score too. Nothing stood out as the sort of thing to become a classic showtune, but all the music was fun and fresh and enjoyable. It was just a blast. There’s a little dip in the momentum just after the half-way mark, when you kind of don’t believe that Stella would fabricate evidence to share with their social media followers, but that might have been just my own frustration at someone f-ing with the chain of custody and lying to allege someone else’s guilt. But overall, it was the strongest musical of the fest, and I’ve rarely seen an audience have more fun. My face hurt from laughing so much, and though I wouldn’t rush to buy the score, it was perfect for the experience. I can see this having a sold-out run at the Southwark.
INFORMATION: The show is playing in a circus tent (Roundabout at Summerhall) so the nearest toilets are a bit hard to find, upstairs in the school building behind the tent. (Just ask the staff, they’re milling around.) There are outdoor bars just outside with water pitchers – the Fringe venues are pretty good about having water pitchers! The show went 18 minutes past scheduled end time. It’s okay, it’s a treat. You’d think being outside in a circus tent would mean more fresh air and air flow but you would be mistaken.
Bloody Elle, by Lauryn Redding
Literally the only disappointment I can share about this gorgeous, moving, brilliant one-woman show is that I’m now learning the writer and performer is named Lauryn, and not Elle, and so I am guessing that it was not as autobiographical as it seemed. Why am I so sad that this heartbreaking personal tale might not be true, why did I want this lovely young woman to have actually suffered so much in real life for our entertainment? BECAUSE IT WAS BRILLIANT.
“Bloody Elle” is an incredibly honest and beautiful telling of a young girls’ first love with another girl. Elle, our heroine, works at Chips & Dips and is muddling through life until a new girl, Eve, joins the staff and turns her world upside-down. Their budding romance is conveyed believably, feelingly, emotionally, and we are there for every single inch of the roller coaster. Elle shares the tale with her expert storytelling, her powerful singing, and her uncanny ability to imitate a whole cast of deeply drawn characters. (I say imitate like I actually heard the real people, and am realizing that’s just the strength of Lauryn’s abilities. Each Chips & Dips employee was ON THAT STAGE. ‘Our Jack’ is my fave, obvs, hope he’s real more than anything.)
Some lyrics were a little hackneyed, whenever she was trying for more ‘impressive’ figurative language instead of sticking to simple but honest lyrics. Simple and true is always better than trying to sound smart. But I noticed that kind of thing only a few times, and for the most part the music, and all the writing, was like an arrow shooting straight for your heart. It was raw, and heartfelt, and she is such a strong performer that you have no choice but to jump in and feel everything with her. We laughed, we sobbed, we laughed, we really truly cried with her and felt her pain, and then laughed some more, and then felt hope, and then cried more, and so on. This is one of those shows that make you believe in the power of art. Just an amazing gem.
INFORMATION: This is playing in the Traverse theatre, the more profesh of Fringe venues, so it’s a comfortable regular-ish theatre space with big toilets and a big bar with several water pitchers.
Learning to Fly, by James Rowland
Without a doubt, ‘Learning to Fly’ is my favorite thing I’ve seen not only of the festival, but in a looooong time. This one-man casually set talk in a small anatomy classroom was one of the most flawless pieces of theatrical storytelling I’ve ever seen. I can’t get over how good this was. I said good like a IDIOT; this shit is AMAZING. This is up there on my list of favorite things, full stop. James Rowland is a STORYTELLER for the GOTTAM AGES. There are few things I don’t have at least one or two bits of constructive criticism for (okay I like to think I’m constructive but I acknowledge that sometimes I am just a b word.) But this? This shit was SHEER PERFECTION.
I honestly don’t know how to say anything else except yell (can you hear me I bet you can because I’m loud) about how great this is.
James tells the very-true-seeming-I-hope-it’s-true-it-seems-true-I-mean-of-course-it-is-but-Lauryn’s-got-me-second-guessing-everything-now story of when he was a boy and was forced to spend time with his scary older lady neighbor, who he was convinced was a witch, as all kids are of their older lady neighbors. As expected, their ‘relationship’ is stilted from his trepidation, as he spends the hours watching TV and she stays in the other room. Everything changes with one of the most vividly drawn tales of a bathroom incident gone wrong, when they are forced to let down their guards, stand in the same room together (the bathroom), and finally become friends. All of this is told so well, conveying all the emotions and excitement and fears you could possibly imagine, and we were having a lovely time.
And then James gets his old lady neighbor some ecstasy to lift her spirits, and the show kicks into another gear you had no idea was coming, and it is f-ing hilarious.
James plays all of our emotions like a fiddle. Like a damn FIDDLE. We were laughing, we were weepy, we were struck dumb, we were laughing again, we were puppets attached to the strings he controlled. The twists and falls and emotional turns never stop coming – from the hijinks you expect from a teenage boy trying to buy drugs in high school, to him suggesting this plan to her, to his fakeout of her reaction, to her dying, to her NOT dying actually, to her dying again, to him trying to get a hold of his own life as an adult, it’s all told so expertly, so warmly and lovingly, that I think I will have a hard time listening to anyone else try to tell a story ever. Does it have drugs? Does it have classical music on drugs? Does it have poop floating in a flooded bathroom? Does it have a woman who comes back from the dead and is high as a kite drinking with EMTs? then KEEP IT.
If you have the chance to hear James tell this story this weekend, you simply must. Hopefully he will get to tell this story in a venue more worthy of this superb piece of theatre in the future.
INFORMATION: The show is in this tiny room, an anatomy lecture hall, at the Summerhall venue which is just mind-boggling to me, like the biggest inverse ratio of venue quality to performance quality you could imagine. There are single toilets out in the hall (I mean it’s a school!) and the bar/cafe has water pitchers AND tiny vegan Ben & Jerry’s, if you can believe it. (IF I can believe it? Watch this: I believe it!) The show went 14 minutes over, the one time you’re grateful for that.
