The Cast & Cameos of Tick, Tick...Boom! and Why You Know Them (or Should)by Randi / November 23, 2021It’s so strange to think that Stephen Sondheim is no longer on this earth when the earth has so often felt like simply a platform for his work to exist. Everything that happens and everywhere I go and every word that every person says reminds me of some truth he shared with the world that we were lucky enough to hear and understand and connect with emotionally. No one was more honest about the complexities of human emotion and the depths of human frailty, and applying that honesty to musical theatre elevated it as an art form and reinforced that it’s deserving of respect. Look at what musical theatre can achieve, he said. Look at how we need musical theatre to truly express our humanity. That’s why we love him so much.
I’m not foolish enough to think that I can eulogize him better than others have (except the Guardian of course) or discuss the brilliance of his works in detail like theatre historians. I just wanted to take a few minutes to think about how important his creations are to me personally. Unfortunately I’m not able to do what everyone loves doing (and you can’t really fault them for doing it), which is to share a photo of me and the deceased, because I never had the opportunity to meet him. While part of me is of course sorry that that will never happen, part of me is glad because I can go on imagining him as more than an ordinary man. For me and for most of us who love theatre, he was this sort of holy figure, whose genius necessitated that he must be more than human, despite understanding and expressing humanity on such unparalleled levels.
This past weekend, I was without power and cell service for a few days due to the storm, and while that experience was one of the worst, it let me have a few extra days of believing I actually shared a planet with him, this great figure. That we existed in the same era and in the same universe is a miracle to me, and not just because it’s Chanukah and he was Jewish and I’m primed to be thinking all miracley anyway. He would be the last person to think of himself in such laudatory terms as we all do, as he was just a man (a NJB really), but his genius made him seem superhuman, despite that very genius being grounded in humanity.
On a personal level, his works form important touchstones for so many parts of my life. One of my earliest memories is watching the PBS airing of ‘Sunday in the Park with George’ over and over with my mom. She had taped it (VHS baby) so she would put it on frequently for years after. I remember it was even on when she was drying her hair one morning, and I was just staring at the small screen. Mandy Patinkin quickly became my mom’s favorite non-family (maybe even including family who knows) person in the world, and I loved everything about it, this woman in the dress with the poofy butt (who know one day I would work with her) and the colors and all these characters and above all the sound of this perfect music that I was too young to understand but knew was beautiful and important. As a teenager, I was obsessed with the dark twists of ‘Into the Woods’ and the lessons it taught about consequences and the ramifications of wishes, especially as someone raised on Disney princesses. But, I was also raised on ‘West Side Story’ and with it my dad’s favorite story of his single line: ‘COPS!’ And I’m not saying I married a man because he appreciates and loves how insanely ingenious ‘Assassins’ is but it’s not not why. I can’t imagine what life looks like without his shows helping us understand it.
It doesn’t matter that he was 91 or that we’ve been fearing this moment since his big 80th celebration. Genius of that sort is rare and now we are without his. But we have his work, his brilliant creations, each of them special and so many of them continually surprising in their truth and beauty. We are so lucky that his works keep getting produced and we can keep experiencing them, and in new ways, even if we will never get that fabled next show from him.
His genius was in peeling away layers to reveal raw human truths that seem so simple and clear but are so complicated, and doing that to incredible music. He seemed to so often be drawn to extremely niche situations for his settings — not e.g. a basic family drama that everyone could relate to but instead a group of aging former performers confronting their pasts in a closing dilapidated theatre, or a beloved painting brought to life through the backstory of its creator and muse, or a group of historical assassins detailing their exploits and commenting on the current state of politics (current at any time, another aspect of his brilliance). Even the situations that don’t seem too rare or extreme, like the single man deliberating his singledom, were novel and innovative at the time. Instead of writing characters as every day people we would immediately relate to, he made it so we related to people we didn’t automatically see ourselves in. We weren’t always reflected outwardly but we would soon feel emotionally connected and reflected due to the honesty and depth of his words and how the music enhanced their meaning. He found emotional truths in this nuance and showed them so clearly that the shadows seemed like daybreak. His legacy for me is how he let audiences easily see themselves in characters that aren’t clearly similar to them, or see truth in situations that don’t look like their normal lives, which more easily lets people connect with those different from them in real life. I believe he did this, and since being able to connect in those ways increases empathy, with his art he thus made the world a better place.
When loved ones die, Jewish people say may their memory be a blessing. To remember Stephen Sondheim is to remember his genius and how that genius manifested in the creation of these lasting works of emotional truth and humanity. His memory is a blessing, and will always be a blessing, as his life was, as his art was.
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Broadway’s A Doll’s House, Part 2: Here’s What Might Have Happened
Lucas Hnath was just your ordinary boy, spending his days writing about what happened to his favorite characters from various fiction universes after the original work ended. He started with the many Star Trek series, as most writers of fan fiction do, daydreaming scenarios that stayed true to the established canon but existed wholly outside of it. Yet the boy quickly felt that this focus on modern works was stifling his creativity. He tried his hand at the other popular fandoms, from Harry Potter to Game of Thrones, before realizing that his abilities would best be exercised by going back in time. “Hmm,” he thought, twirling his pen that was also a clock, “I wonder if anyone has fanficked up some old plays before.” He looked through the standards, Shaw, O’Neill, Joyce, Miller, before landing on the one that he felt a natural connection with, the Norwegian ‘father of realism’ Henrik Ibsen. Lucas felt particularly drawn to his famous early feminist play “A Doll’s House”, in which a housewife casts aside the suffocating trappings of her anti-feminist 19th century society. “I wonder what happened next,” Lucas thought, and busily got to work. And that’s how writing fanfic became the coolest way to get a play on Broadway.
Okay, I’m just joking about all that, but the critically acclaimed new play “A Doll’s House, Part 2” really is straight up fanfic and I loooooveeee it for that. Like what if that amazing story where Jess and Dean heal each other’s Rory-inflicted wounds by getting together themselves that I found on the Gilmore Girls subreddit was made into its own TV show, that’s kind of what is happening here. But it’s so much better because it’s on Broadway, and I jest but Hnath (I am fully saying the H and it sounds like I’m sneezing I don’t know if that’s right) did a fine job imagining what has become of Nora, the classic dramatic protagonist who first told housewives they didn’t need to be housewives, and Torvald, the husband who inspired a century of names proving that some parents hate their children.
It’s a good thing Ibsen has been dead for 111 years (I looked it up) because fanfic can infringe on an author’s copyright. But instead of getting sued, Hnath is getting rightfully lauded for his creative, engaging new play. Even if Ibsen were alive, I think he would have liked it. It takes place 15 years after the original work ends, when Nora famously decides she can no longer stand conforming to the strict rules for her gender and being treated like a doll so she leaves her husband and three children with a slam of the door. I saw Part 2 last week with my brother, who did not know the original work, while I’ve seen the original performed a bunch of times. And as soon as brother got over the excitement of seeing Frances McDormand and Joel Coen sitting across the way from us (just kidding he didn’t), he was fine, because honestly what I explained about the original plot in the previous sentence is all you need to know going in. I mean I don’t actually remember much else anyway so as long as you know ‘old timey gender roles, fed up wife, left her husband and children at the end,’ you’re good.
After that powerful ending of the original, what would bring Nora back to her family? How long would it take before she returned? As Part 2 opens, we repeatedly get the answer to the latter question – “Fifteen years!” the maid Anne Marie (Jayne Houdyshell, HILARIOUS all caps necessary) repeatedly shouts! “Fifteen years,” Nora (Laurie Metcalf) repeatedly repeats. The answer to the former question takes a little more prodding, as first Nora wants Anne Marie to gush over how good she looks, in her super expensive-looking gown and her all not-being-dead state, which is a surprise as the family, and the town, it turns out, believed she died because what woman could take care of herself?! Metcalf, who gave one of the best theatrical performances I ever saw in “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” several years back, is completely different here, loud and confident but with a certain unnaturalness in her tone and behavior that makes you a little uncomfortable, suggesting that Nora is not as comfortable and contented as she wants everyone to think. The subtle uneasiness could easily be ignored by audience members who want to believe that everything worked out for Nora, and could easily be seized upon for those who want her to have suffered. But Nora is very pleased with how her life turned out, because she became an author of famous books for women – under a pen name of course, lest she be ruined – criticizing the sexism of society and condemning the preposterousness (preposterity? preposterity! change approved!) of marriage. Her books have made a huge splash, garnering rabid fans and intense opposition, as enemies of her/fans of traditional society want to unmask the unknown author and destroy her to set an example.
Trying to prevent such destruction is what brings Nora back to this house. She needs a divorce from Torvald – they never got divorced in the 15 years! FIFTEEN YEARS! Anne Marie, who raised Nora and then raised Nora’s kids instead of her own, is incensed that after all this time (FIFTEEN YEARS!) Nora is only returning for selfish reasons, Nora who never actually said goodbye to the loyal Anne Marie. Houdyshell, always good, manages to make the audience absolutely fall over themselves laughing in the first part of the show, which is just Anne Marie and Nora laying out the facts. It’s a good way to easy into the serious dialogue to come, the debate over right and wrong and decency and strength that becomes more muddled the more you say.
So some man in an office somewhere found out a) that Nora is the author of these books and b) that Torvald never divorced her, and he is threatening to expose her and send her to jail. There are several important period-sensitive issues happening here: A woman could only divorce her husband if she proved, basically, that he was a POS, a cheat or some such. But a man could divorce his wife for any reason. So clearly it would be easier for all if Torvald went along and signed the paper and that was that. If he refused and Nora chose to do it herself, she would need to ruin Torvald’s reputation. And to ruin a man again who didn’t really do anything wrong, at least according to society and everything he knew, would be very unfair. As for why the reveal of Nora as the books’ author would be criminal – she had been acting as an unmarried woman, conducting business and signing contracts as only an unmarried woman could back then. If it turned out that she had signed contracts and entered into deals without the consent of her husband and without him taking the lead on the business dealings, it would be a crime. I knowww so wrong.
The plot doesn’t really matter – the play is about Nora reconciling her decision to save herself with how it affected the people in her life. But the legal issues she faces provide an effective template for how these discussions progress. Either way it goes, there are no winners, and the decisions made – which we don’t see; don’t think that this wraps up their story all tidily and dumb – will continue to break this family. And they will continue to question whether Nora was justified in leaving and living her own life. No matter which side you’re on, there’s no right answer to what she should have done because, as we witness through the three conversations, it’s too complicated when humans are involved.
Once you laugh enough with Anne Marie, the door opens again, and it’s Torvald, played by a somber, unsmiling Chris Cooper, whose entrance immediately changes the mood from a comedy to a drama. His solemnity contrasts with Nora’s crass, almost boorish new manner that gives her the freedom to now sit with her legs falling open, to lie about on the floor in her skirts just because she can. Nora explains her situation to Torvald as if it’s the simplest matter in the world with a clear and straightforward solution. But Chris reminds you of the gravity of the situation, even just physically with how heavy his carriage seems. First of all, Torvald’s like, you just straight up left me and our children, never sent a letter or anything, we thought you died and OH YEAH, we told everyone you did, and you ruined me, and now you want more from me? Then he gets to the heart of the matter, which is that regardless of whether he complies with her or not, they still lose and continue to destroy each other. If he refuses to divorce Nora, she will either destroy him publicly to get the divorce or she will go to jail and be ruined herself. If he refuses and she does choose to try for the divorce, then everyone in town will find out that Nora is actually not dead and that Torvald lied about her dying, and so he’d probably lose his job and be ruined. On the other hand, it’s kind of the same hand because if he does divorce her, there would be a public document proving that Nora is still alive, so everyone would again find out that Torvald lied about his wife dying and he would be shunned and probably lose his job and be ruined. No matter how badly we want to commend Nora for trying to live her best life, her actions harmed Torvald and continue to harm him after all this time. Whether he was a bad husband or not, the punishment still seems to outweigh the crime, and Chris’s performance makes you believe that the self-empowerment behind Nora’s choice does not excuse its ramifications.
The uneasiness this dilemma creates in the audience does not go away, because we don’t find out what Torvald decides to do. It would be hard to believe, however, that he decides to give Nora what she wants. If he’s ruined either way, there’s no way he would make it easier for the woman who devastated him. But it just seems so unfair all around. It’ll make you wonder whether Nora should have just stayed, but then you know she would have suffered her whole life in a claustrophobic role. And you feel bad for Torvald, especially since he wasn’t really a bad man.
The complicated nature of it all continues as Chris leaves and Condola Rashad, brilliant, enters. (BTW, the show is structured generally in three bits – Nora’s conversations with Anne Marie, Torvald, and then Emmy, her daughter. Chris Cooper generally gets the same amount of time as the others, yet he is considered and nominated as Leading Actor in a Play. Erm.) Rashad plays Emmy, one of Nora’s three children that she left behind, now all grown up. It is hard to get over how awesome it is that Rashad, a black woman, is playing the daughter of two white people. There’s no contextual reason, no scandal, just that Rashad is a fantastic actress who deserved to be cast and, even though the character of Emmy would be white in the play’s society, it frankly doesn’t matter who is playing her onstage. Like Thomas Jefferson around the corner. It’s a play, and the audience can deal with it, so more productions should stop using the excuse of historical accuracy or whatever for being so damn white. We’re suspending belief anyway that Laurie doesn’t have a sister named Roseanne; we’re fine doing more. Emmy is a smart young woman with no apparent emotional connection to her mother. She did abandon her as a very young child, after all, and Emmy barely remembers her. Since Nora was okay with leaving her and her two sons in the first place, she doesn’t seem to mind that Emmy treats her coolly. But she does mind that Emmy is the exact opposite of the type of woman Nora is trying to empower. Growing up with no semblance of traditional domestic stability, Emmy yearns to marry and fulfill her social duty as an obedient wife, with the house and the kids and the banker husband (actually, her betrothed even works at Torvald’s bank). Naturally, this horrifies Nora, who spends most of the play railing against marriage (sometimes to the applause of the audience, sometimes to nervous laughter, sometimes to shocked silence when she goes too far). But the poised and intelligent Emmy seems almost more empowered and self-assured than Nora, who feels the need to throw her empowerment in everyone’s face. Emmy knows she has the right to a choice, and that her legitimate preference for the traditional option is still a valid choice. Despite her desire to stay in the place that restrictive society wants her to stay in, Emmy exhibits more clarity and self-awareness than her mother, especially when she tells her “Don’t make my wants about your wants.”
Nora thought she’d have an easy time convincing Emmy to convince Torvald to give into her demands, but Emmy swiftly turns the tables and asks Nora to let Torvald be, having done enough to him already. And Emmy doesn’t want the inevitable ruin to affect her happiness, as the scandal surrounding a faked death would probably stop her wedding. Nora, who stormed in at the beginning with conviction about what she needed to accomplish in this visit, is left confused about what to do. She doesn’t want to ruin her daughter’s chance at happiness, despite her opposition to its form. And she likely realizes how Torvald has suffered enough because of her. It’s completely unclear whether she would do what it takes to let her family live happily – for her to let the bad man expose her true identity and probably ruin her – but you get the sense that she at least can’t now do what it takes to actively ruin them. I almost just wrote that it’s literally between a rock and a hard place. It is not but it is very much figuratively that.
Not much really happens in the play’s swift 90 minutes, but these discussions are fascinating. And even though it’s not a perfect show by far, I just love the concept, to take a classic work and think about what happened next. It leaves you haunted by the questions of what’s right and wrong and whether choosing oneself is borne of selfishness or self-love. The situation is entirely unwinnable and really unpleasant to contemplate. Luckily, it’s just fan fiction, so you can continue believing that everyone lived happy lives after Nora first slammed the door. But it’s not as interesting that way.
THEATRE INFO
No intermission means no super long bathroom lines, which is wonderful. It’s quite easy to get rush tickets to this show, but that might change after the Tony Awards since this is up for eight of them. And all four actors are nominated, which is amazing.
Everyone came out of stage door (there are only four actors after all) and signed. Jayne and Condola moved off very quickly, probably thinking that everyone was waiting just for the bigger stars. But Condola came back when someone asked her to (not me I swear) and was super excited and friendly.
Walking towards the subway I saw Art from Orphan Black and screamed. The end.
It’s a good thing Ibsen has been dead for 111 years (I looked it up) because fanfic can infringe on an author’s copyright. But instead of getting sued, Hnath is getting rightfully lauded for his creative, engaging new play. Even if Ibsen were alive, I think he would have liked it. It takes place 15 years after the original work ends, when Nora famously decides she can no longer stand conforming to the strict rules for her gender and being treated like a doll so she leaves her husband and three children with a slam of the door. I saw Part 2 last week with my brother, who did not know the original work, while I’ve seen the original performed a bunch of times. And as soon as brother got over the excitement of seeing Frances McDormand and Joel Coen sitting across the way from us (just kidding he didn’t), he was fine, because honestly what I explained about the original plot in the previous sentence is all you need to know going in. I mean I don’t actually remember much else anyway so as long as you know ‘old timey gender roles, fed up wife, left her husband and children at the end,’ you’re good.
After that powerful ending of the original, what would bring Nora back to her family? How long would it take before she returned? As Part 2 opens, we repeatedly get the answer to the latter question – “Fifteen years!” the maid Anne Marie (Jayne Houdyshell, HILARIOUS all caps necessary) repeatedly shouts! “Fifteen years,” Nora (Laurie Metcalf) repeatedly repeats. The answer to the former question takes a little more prodding, as first Nora wants Anne Marie to gush over how good she looks, in her super expensive-looking gown and her all not-being-dead state, which is a surprise as the family, and the town, it turns out, believed she died because what woman could take care of herself?! Metcalf, who gave one of the best theatrical performances I ever saw in “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” several years back, is completely different here, loud and confident but with a certain unnaturalness in her tone and behavior that makes you a little uncomfortable, suggesting that Nora is not as comfortable and contented as she wants everyone to think. The subtle uneasiness could easily be ignored by audience members who want to believe that everything worked out for Nora, and could easily be seized upon for those who want her to have suffered. But Nora is very pleased with how her life turned out, because she became an author of famous books for women – under a pen name of course, lest she be ruined – criticizing the sexism of society and condemning the preposterousness (preposterity? preposterity! change approved!) of marriage. Her books have made a huge splash, garnering rabid fans and intense opposition, as enemies of her/fans of traditional society want to unmask the unknown author and destroy her to set an example.
Trying to prevent such destruction is what brings Nora back to this house. She needs a divorce from Torvald – they never got divorced in the 15 years! FIFTEEN YEARS! Anne Marie, who raised Nora and then raised Nora’s kids instead of her own, is incensed that after all this time (FIFTEEN YEARS!) Nora is only returning for selfish reasons, Nora who never actually said goodbye to the loyal Anne Marie. Houdyshell, always good, manages to make the audience absolutely fall over themselves laughing in the first part of the show, which is just Anne Marie and Nora laying out the facts. It’s a good way to easy into the serious dialogue to come, the debate over right and wrong and decency and strength that becomes more muddled the more you say.
So some man in an office somewhere found out a) that Nora is the author of these books and b) that Torvald never divorced her, and he is threatening to expose her and send her to jail. There are several important period-sensitive issues happening here: A woman could only divorce her husband if she proved, basically, that he was a POS, a cheat or some such. But a man could divorce his wife for any reason. So clearly it would be easier for all if Torvald went along and signed the paper and that was that. If he refused and Nora chose to do it herself, she would need to ruin Torvald’s reputation. And to ruin a man again who didn’t really do anything wrong, at least according to society and everything he knew, would be very unfair. As for why the reveal of Nora as the books’ author would be criminal – she had been acting as an unmarried woman, conducting business and signing contracts as only an unmarried woman could back then. If it turned out that she had signed contracts and entered into deals without the consent of her husband and without him taking the lead on the business dealings, it would be a crime. I knowww so wrong.
The plot doesn’t really matter – the play is about Nora reconciling her decision to save herself with how it affected the people in her life. But the legal issues she faces provide an effective template for how these discussions progress. Either way it goes, there are no winners, and the decisions made – which we don’t see; don’t think that this wraps up their story all tidily and dumb – will continue to break this family. And they will continue to question whether Nora was justified in leaving and living her own life. No matter which side you’re on, there’s no right answer to what she should have done because, as we witness through the three conversations, it’s too complicated when humans are involved.
Once you laugh enough with Anne Marie, the door opens again, and it’s Torvald, played by a somber, unsmiling Chris Cooper, whose entrance immediately changes the mood from a comedy to a drama. His solemnity contrasts with Nora’s crass, almost boorish new manner that gives her the freedom to now sit with her legs falling open, to lie about on the floor in her skirts just because she can. Nora explains her situation to Torvald as if it’s the simplest matter in the world with a clear and straightforward solution. But Chris reminds you of the gravity of the situation, even just physically with how heavy his carriage seems. First of all, Torvald’s like, you just straight up left me and our children, never sent a letter or anything, we thought you died and OH YEAH, we told everyone you did, and you ruined me, and now you want more from me? Then he gets to the heart of the matter, which is that regardless of whether he complies with her or not, they still lose and continue to destroy each other. If he refuses to divorce Nora, she will either destroy him publicly to get the divorce or she will go to jail and be ruined herself. If he refuses and she does choose to try for the divorce, then everyone in town will find out that Nora is actually not dead and that Torvald lied about her dying, and so he’d probably lose his job and be ruined. On the other hand, it’s kind of the same hand because if he does divorce her, there would be a public document proving that Nora is still alive, so everyone would again find out that Torvald lied about his wife dying and he would be shunned and probably lose his job and be ruined. No matter how badly we want to commend Nora for trying to live her best life, her actions harmed Torvald and continue to harm him after all this time. Whether he was a bad husband or not, the punishment still seems to outweigh the crime, and Chris’s performance makes you believe that the self-empowerment behind Nora’s choice does not excuse its ramifications.
The uneasiness this dilemma creates in the audience does not go away, because we don’t find out what Torvald decides to do. It would be hard to believe, however, that he decides to give Nora what she wants. If he’s ruined either way, there’s no way he would make it easier for the woman who devastated him. But it just seems so unfair all around. It’ll make you wonder whether Nora should have just stayed, but then you know she would have suffered her whole life in a claustrophobic role. And you feel bad for Torvald, especially since he wasn’t really a bad man.
The complicated nature of it all continues as Chris leaves and Condola Rashad, brilliant, enters. (BTW, the show is structured generally in three bits – Nora’s conversations with Anne Marie, Torvald, and then Emmy, her daughter. Chris Cooper generally gets the same amount of time as the others, yet he is considered and nominated as Leading Actor in a Play. Erm.) Rashad plays Emmy, one of Nora’s three children that she left behind, now all grown up. It is hard to get over how awesome it is that Rashad, a black woman, is playing the daughter of two white people. There’s no contextual reason, no scandal, just that Rashad is a fantastic actress who deserved to be cast and, even though the character of Emmy would be white in the play’s society, it frankly doesn’t matter who is playing her onstage. Like Thomas Jefferson around the corner. It’s a play, and the audience can deal with it, so more productions should stop using the excuse of historical accuracy or whatever for being so damn white. We’re suspending belief anyway that Laurie doesn’t have a sister named Roseanne; we’re fine doing more. Emmy is a smart young woman with no apparent emotional connection to her mother. She did abandon her as a very young child, after all, and Emmy barely remembers her. Since Nora was okay with leaving her and her two sons in the first place, she doesn’t seem to mind that Emmy treats her coolly. But she does mind that Emmy is the exact opposite of the type of woman Nora is trying to empower. Growing up with no semblance of traditional domestic stability, Emmy yearns to marry and fulfill her social duty as an obedient wife, with the house and the kids and the banker husband (actually, her betrothed even works at Torvald’s bank). Naturally, this horrifies Nora, who spends most of the play railing against marriage (sometimes to the applause of the audience, sometimes to nervous laughter, sometimes to shocked silence when she goes too far). But the poised and intelligent Emmy seems almost more empowered and self-assured than Nora, who feels the need to throw her empowerment in everyone’s face. Emmy knows she has the right to a choice, and that her legitimate preference for the traditional option is still a valid choice. Despite her desire to stay in the place that restrictive society wants her to stay in, Emmy exhibits more clarity and self-awareness than her mother, especially when she tells her “Don’t make my wants about your wants.”
Nora thought she’d have an easy time convincing Emmy to convince Torvald to give into her demands, but Emmy swiftly turns the tables and asks Nora to let Torvald be, having done enough to him already. And Emmy doesn’t want the inevitable ruin to affect her happiness, as the scandal surrounding a faked death would probably stop her wedding. Nora, who stormed in at the beginning with conviction about what she needed to accomplish in this visit, is left confused about what to do. She doesn’t want to ruin her daughter’s chance at happiness, despite her opposition to its form. And she likely realizes how Torvald has suffered enough because of her. It’s completely unclear whether she would do what it takes to let her family live happily – for her to let the bad man expose her true identity and probably ruin her – but you get the sense that she at least can’t now do what it takes to actively ruin them. I almost just wrote that it’s literally between a rock and a hard place. It is not but it is very much figuratively that.
Not much really happens in the play’s swift 90 minutes, but these discussions are fascinating. And even though it’s not a perfect show by far, I just love the concept, to take a classic work and think about what happened next. It leaves you haunted by the questions of what’s right and wrong and whether choosing oneself is borne of selfishness or self-love. The situation is entirely unwinnable and really unpleasant to contemplate. Luckily, it’s just fan fiction, so you can continue believing that everyone lived happy lives after Nora first slammed the door. But it’s not as interesting that way.
THEATRE INFO
No intermission means no super long bathroom lines, which is wonderful. It’s quite easy to get rush tickets to this show, but that might change after the Tony Awards since this is up for eight of them. And all four actors are nominated, which is amazing.
Everyone came out of stage door (there are only four actors after all) and signed. Jayne and Condola moved off very quickly, probably thinking that everyone was waiting just for the bigger stars. But Condola came back when someone asked her to (not me I swear) and was super excited and friendly.
Walking towards the subway I saw Art from Orphan Black and screamed. The end.
Tree at the Young Vic: A Maddening Take on Theatre
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Tree, at the Young Vic until August 24.
In a post-theatre conversation this week, we established that the number of professional stage productions I’ve seen is in the thousands. I can say with all the certainty of someone who is pretty tired and should have taken her contacts out 5 hours ago and has a hard time remembering many of the 1000s of shows (as one would) that I have never been more frustrated by any show than I was with Tree, the creation of (as it says in all the program and marketing material, it was ‘created by’ them, not written by) Idris Elba (yes that one) and Kwame Kwei-Armah, the latter of whom also directed. It’s maddening beyond belief, because there’s so much potential in the story – if you can find the story underneath the noise. Tree shows glimpses of deep, provocative drama, but the creators obscure those little captivating buds with tons (and tons) (and tons) of bells and whistles that are beyond unnecessary, to the point where the entire experience is extraneous.
The most well-known of said bells and/or whistles is the immersive nature of the show. As we saw with the recent productions of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Bridge Theatre and, in smaller part, with Barber Shop Chronicles at the Roundhouse (at least to start the show), immersive style theatre is this summer’s trend. I’m all for immersion if it works. It works like a dream at Midsummer (I didn’t mean to make that so corny but alas) because the story remains the focal point. Sure the crowd is ushered hither and thither but never in a way that distracts from the actors or the words. This is a lesson in restraint that Tree did not learn. I don’t think Tree even knows the word restraint. The immersion exists here simply for its own sake, simply to make audiences feel like it’s all about them – and it is.
Beginning with most of the crowd in the middle of the stage dancing with the cast to super loud (like too loud) club music (literally my nightmare), the show is ostensibly about a young Londoner who goes to South Africa for the first time to confront his family’s history and learn about the strife that led to his existence and is in his blood. Now that story could be great, and like I said there are moments of almost-greatness. But instead of letting those moments breathe and grow, the play continues to rely on tricks like these dance parties to convince the audience that this was fun. And most of the audience did have fun, because of course they did if it’s a huge dance party. Londoners love clubbing!
The first half hour drags, with little happening to propel a story but LOTS happening to distract you from it – more super loud dance breaks apropos of nothing, staff repeatedly handing out placards to hold up, staff moving you around to set up another effect, staff making you hold sticks (staff have never worked harder in a theatre; they did not stop for a second, which was distracting). There was an inane release of either glitter or dirt – I honestly couldn’t tell the difference, quite the metaphor – over most of the crowd, and lots of Alfred moving through the crowd unnecessarily. (This last one seems just to give everyone the rush of a famous actor walking right by you, because that’s what everyone wants – to feel like they’re a part of whatever is happening, regardless of whether it makes sense. Everyone wanting to be a part of things is already the downfall of theatre, with the rampant videos and snapchatting during it, but more on that at the end.) There was a character we met for less than a minute who performed handstand pushups for no reason other than to show off and have the crowd cheer. There were loud gunshots. There was a character introduction via hip hop performance. And sure she’s a good performer, but WHY? Every inch of this production had me asking why. Nothing was in service of the story, so everything felt exasperating.
As Alfred’s character Kaelo delves deeper into his family’s past, there is a good ten minute chunk that felt like a completely different, compelling play: when modern day demonstrations gave way to a memory play of the protests in 1985, when Kaelo’s parents got together. There were fewer distractions here, fewer dance parties, and it worked. Those ten minutes or so worked. I wish I could see the rest of that play.
But I couldn’t because it was then time for another dance partayyyyyyyy! Wooooooooot!
Without any real commitment to telling this story, the overly dramatic direction – so much melodramatic music, so much slow motion – felt unearned, since any drama took a backseat to the audience’s constant outward enjoyment. There’s a good story (potentially a great story) under all that noise somewhere, and that’s what makes it so infuriating. The issues brought up could be challenging in a novel way, but instead of developing them, they’re tossed in the air like beach balls that you throw out into a crowd, one crowd-loving trick I was shocked that they didn’t use. I couldn’t even watch the climax because the staff was having us set up yet another effect. All of the bells and whistles quickly grew wearisome, and it’s a shame that they took over to become the experience. I have never seen such reliance on spectacle at the expense of storytelling when there is such a good story desperately trying to be heard.
INFORMATION
Tree is at the Young Vic until August 24. You can get discounted tickets to some performances on the TodayTix app.
Beware – or enjoy, I guess, if you’re a monster – that they allow photography and filming of the entire show. People were filming the entire show right in the very front row, standing next to ushers, throughout the entire theatre. People were taking FLASH photography during big moments! People were taking live video and putting it on snapchat or whatever they do! The ENTIRE TIME. And it was fine with the staff, so if you are not a fan of that kind of thing, take a valium, and if you are, wtf is wrong with you.
