Anyone Can Whistle at the Southwark: A Star Turn, A Weird Showby Randi / May 4, 2022Today’s show is Zorro, playing at the Charing Cross Theatre (under the arches) until May 28.
Zorro the Musical, has a lot going for it: some great musical numbers, a few powerful scenes, an energy and excitement that runs through the theatre and audience. So, the experience as a whole is not bad; this is the rare experience where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts — and the parts could so easily be improved. But they do need to be. The show needs a good editing rinse-through, possibly with the services of a dramaturg (as always, I volunteer as tribute). Overall, it’s entertaining, and the audience has a blast, but the story does not pass the smell test, and all aspects could benefit from some more work.
The familiar story of Zorro (which I kind of didn’t know; I actually didn’t see the CZJ movie even though I grew up with the poster in my basement) starts with an important man in a Los Angeles pueblo sometime in the 1800s sending his young son Diego to Spain to get an education (opposite expected direction) so he will learn to take over command or kingship or whatever kind of leader he is. The older son Ramon is pisssssed because who has ever heard of bloodline succession that doesn’t go to the eldest male? Ramon calls bullshit! Come on Ramon, take off your shirt and tell us more! Diego goes to Spain, falls in with a group of gypsies, and has a gay old time drinking and dancing and performing and above all having a lottttt of hhhhhrrromantic times. (That’s my Spanish accent in print.) Meanwhile, Ramon takes over control of the pueblo after all because TURNS OUT, if the only person who can stop you is send to another continent, you can apparently fork up your dad and then take shit over willy nilly.
Interrupting Diego’s Spanish funtimes is Luisa, his childhood friend who we saw as a wee puppet and honestly I assumed was the boys’ sister until it came out that adult Luisa was in love with Diego even though she only knew him as a child. She boated over to Spain to drag his ass back to California to stop his brother’s authoritarian rule, because no one else had the courage to do so, which actually is highly believable. Diego goes with her but so does his entire gypsy gang! Alright sure! What fun! The portrayal of the gypsies feeeeels problematic, as does the whole ‘this rich Californian made us gypsies who we are, he’s our savior!’ feel, but I guess I don’t know enough to say more.
Here’s where we start needing more to the story. We see the three baby puppets play together for like, 10 seconds. We need more of this origin story for anything that follows to hold up. Nothing is established to make it clear that a) Luisa is in love with Diego and is not in fact his little sister, b) Diego cares about the pueblo enough to forge a lifelong connection to the land despite his words, and mostly c) Ramon is a psychopathic villain who doesn’t feel like his father loves him, even though the father seems fine and is as nice as someone can be while saying ‘I just don’t think you’re the right person to rule this land’, which is fair. It’s hard to believe that this kid would become pure evil just because his father says he’d be perfect for a DIFFERENT enormously powerful position.
As for b), Diego initially has no desire to return to Los Angeles with Luisa. He’s happy as can be partying and living freely with his friends in Spain. I mean yeah, IT SOUNDS GREAT. So then what changes for him to suddenly feel a connection to the pueblo, a responsibility to save it, and the courage to go full Pimpernel as the masked savior El Zorro? SHORE IT UP FOR ME, BABIES.
As for a), I need the character of Luisa to be developed…at all. She is a complete Cosette, where we are told that she’s so great and brave and amazing but we never see her do literally anything to merit her reputation. Show us, please, I’m begging. Why should we care about her, or want her to end up with our hero, when the Eponine of the show (the gypsy Inez) is the coolest fucking person for MILES? It’s also not clear (or understandable) why Diego and Inez who were happy little FBs in Spain are instantly no longer a couple as soon as their feet touch American soil, all ‘what happens in Spain stays in Spain’, when they seemed to have a pretty good thing going and, like I said, she’s the coolest person around.
Musically, I would love for the differences between Luisa and Inez to be highlighted just as they were for Cosette and Eponine, meaning Luisa should be changed from a belting role to a soprano. With both of the female leads belting (or trying to belt) pretty much 100% of the time, it’s too much of the same sound and it doesn’t help to differentiate them. Also, belting should be used sparingly and not as a sub for character definition.
The story is buoyed with well-fitting Spanish-style music from the Gipsy Kings, who give some of their most famous songs to the show….is this a jukebox musical? I think some of the songs are (must be) written for this, so it’s like a half juke, weird! I recognized several songs from, of all things, the ‘Bedazzled’ soundtrack (amazing movie btw). The highlights by far include the big cantina number led by Inez, ‘Bamboleo’, so fun, and the quintet of Spanish women wailing in the beginning which I just forking loved. The individual numbers don’t achieve as much and could use another pass.
The second act is a little slower and has a bunch ready to be cut. But it includes the most powerful dramatic scene of the show and the best book scene — the cave scene when the truth about the father is revealed, which is done masterfully as it builds to a climax as the energy and drama build and build and thennnnnnnnnn all forward momentum comes screeching to a halt for a random ten minute+ scene out of Stomp with the chorus doing meh choreo and losing all dramatic motion in the plot. It was nigh infuriating to finally have the book achieve its potential, all for what it established to dissipate for no good reason. Le sigh!
While we are talking about Act II book improvements, I think it’s a cop-out for Ramon to pull a Jud Fry. Someone just do a murder, it’s justified.
It’s also hard to believe that Ramon would NEVER notice that his brother is only not right at his side when the mysterious Zorro appears. I think it would be SO funny if they treated that humorously. Would def lighten the mood and help the show settle on the right tone between lighthearted romp or serious drama.
The highlights of the show include Marc Pickering (always great and hilarious) as Sergeant Garcia, our comic relief, and Phoebe Panaretos as Inez. We saw Diego’s understudy (I believe Maxwell Griffin), who did a fine job and it was lovely to see how much the cast supported him. A highlight that wasn’t meant to be was hearing all these white British people attempt Spanish accents (grathias for that). With more work on character development, making the book make more sense (and cutting prob 15-20 mins), improving some of the songs, and figuring out the buttons (no one knew when to clap), this could be a great show.
INFORMATION
Mask total: 14
Best seat in the house: M1, mine, the aisle in the second row (it’s a traverse stage) right by the exit.
It gets HOT in this place, they really need better ventilation and not just because of the mask count.
Start time: 19:30 (19:35ish as usual)
Act I ended: 20:44 (long!)
Act II ended: 22:12
Related Posts
Kathleen Turner: Finding My Voice (Inside a Lion Apparently)
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about Kathleen Turner’s cabaret show, which is currently on tour around England until May 14.
After decades of varied performances on film, stage, and television, Kathleen Turner is finally starting to sing. Or, well, groan melodically. Although I went into her show “Finding My Voice” secretly hoping for a surprise performance of “Viva Las Gaygas”, Kathleen’s cabaret weaving interesting life stories with relevant songs made for an enchanting time at London’s Other Palace Theatre. And enchanting is not the word usually associated with the actress nowadays. She’s gruff and intense, and you could tell that if you tried to make small talk she would tell you to cut the bullshit. She would bark it, really, in that rasping voice that seems to sound more and more like gravel rolling around a barrel in the depths of the ocean as time goes on. This is not a voice you would naturally think of for a musical cabaret, but that’s one of the many reasons why this show works pretty well.
After decades of varied performances on film, stage, and television, Kathleen Turner is finally starting to sing. Or, well, groan melodically. Although I went into her show “Finding My Voice” secretly hoping for a surprise performance of “Viva Las Gaygas”, Kathleen’s cabaret weaving interesting life stories with relevant songs made for an enchanting time at London’s Other Palace Theatre. And enchanting is not the word usually associated with the actress nowadays. She’s gruff and intense, and you could tell that if you tried to make small talk she would tell you to cut the bullshit. She would bark it, really, in that rasping voice that seems to sound more and more like gravel rolling around a barrel in the depths of the ocean as time goes on. This is not a voice you would naturally think of for a musical cabaret, but that’s one of the many reasons why this show works pretty well.
Kathleen’s renowned stage work (she was the best Martha in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” aside from the ledge Uta Hagen that Ben Brantley ever saw) (but actually Brantley is over now that we’ve heard his Tony picks for this year and they could only be fairly judged as the product of a broken mind the opinions of which cannot in good faith be respected any longer but I digress (as usual) (I MEAN COME ON THOUGH) (HE CRAY)) has readied her for this milestone career move, albeit with an audience more intimate than in the big houses she’s used to. But no one really knew if she could sing, not enough to put on a whole cabaret. She never has, save for a little bit as Chandler’s dad, I think (which by the way is the greatest casting ever and the casting people should have won an Emmy for that alone this is the hill I will die on). The confusion, warranted given that she’s not known as a singer or anything close, was rampant pre-show, when I heard people asking each other ‘so is she going to sing? Or is this just her telling stories or something?’ ‘I don’t know; does she sing?’ She does. Although it’s not like any singing you would expect from this type of show, her performance is still captivating and entertaining.
She goes all the way back to her upbringing as the child of a diplomat, moving around the world every few years. The specific childhood memories she recounted were the most fascinating stories of the night. Born in Missouri, she grew up in Cuba, where she became fluent in Spanish, and then moved to Venezuela after the embassy in Cuba shuttered. Her memorable story of a run-in with a family that also moved from Cuba to Venezuela and blamed her father for not getting the chance to move to America would sound fake but you can’t make that kind of thing up. I wish we could more stories about her fascinating life abroad, which eventually took her to London for high school. I don’t know if many in the audience knew that she had such strong ties here but you could feel a wave of respect for the sort-of kinsman take over the crowd, which by the way was all gay guys, middle-aged ladies who very vocally would respond ‘mm-hmm!’ ‘ohh yes’ and ‘wow’, and me.
As she shares snippets of these remarkable moments of her life, the band – her music director on piano plus a guitarist and bassist – would cut in with a few mostly recognizable notes as she launched into fitting songs for their position in the stories. Sometimes it was overly dramatized and I would have rolled my eyes a little at how unnecessary the drama was but I was enjoying seeing this larger than life woman in person too much. They mostly performed standards, many I knew, plus some newer songs and one that was written for her specifically (which was the weakest of the bunch). Her rendition of Cole Porter’s ‘Let’s Fall in Love’, a song usually performed cheerfully, was reminiscent of her earlier movie roles in its directness and boldness. I loved hearing some of my favorite musical theatre standards like ‘You’ve Got to be Carefully Taught’, which felt much shorter than usual, and ‘On the Street Where You Live’, which was among the most moving parts of the show given its matching story. But the best part was when I thought ‘Man her voice really would be incredible on ‘Brother, Can You Spare a Dime’’ and then she sang it. The gloom of that song, the grim outlook, it works so well with the guttural roar she produces. Even when she would exhale during the speaking portions, it would come out like a low groan, like a storm was always rumbling.
One of her stories was about her famous theatre friend asking if she sang, to which Kathleen, never one to shirk from a challenge, said yes, and that’s how this cabaret was made. But her voice, a growl emanating from the deepest reaches, is not a pretty voice to listen to. I thought sometimes that there were too many songs to sit through. And yet it works with these songs and in telling her stories. This voice screams out for these old standards, as she seems like a throwback to another time too. And for the most part she is. Her heyday is over, but she is fighting to reclaim her place in the business now that her serious health scare is somewhat under control. And she’s defiant, about her place in the business then and now and whether she cares what you think about it all (she doesn’t). I loved how some of her stories about her movie career were so one-sided that you kind of knew she was leaving out important details, but it didn’t matter. These were her memories and if they don’t match with what someone else says about her, tough. The one weak song I mentioned was written about her extensive support and volunteer work for Planned Parenthood, and the matter-of-factness with which she talked about it, as if no one would object, showed that she knew no one would dare cross her on this. And sure no one would in that audience, and sure it’s completely different to talk about that outside the USA, but even so you could tell from her demeanor that she would be speaking of it with the same bluntness and confidence no matter where she was. The song lyrics were a little too on the nose about clinic happenings to be musically impressive, but I loved the approach to it and the fact that she performed this unabashedly in her life story concert.
Other highlights included a song in Spanish and a hilarious story about her time working with Francis Ford Coppola, and even he couldn’t escape her, let’s call it candor. I love that she is honest and assertive and doesn’t care about being nice, traits that usually end up producing people who are much better than anyone who cares about being ‘nice’. She is the epitome of someone who gives no fucks – which you could realize by the sheer fact that it’s Kathleen Turner doing a musical cabaret ffs – and I love it.
INFORMATION
“Finding My Voice” is touring England until May 14. Google details if you live in like Horsham? Oh and it ends in Edinburgh and I know some of you live there.
STAGE DOOR
She came out! She asked that no one take pictures but she signed and talked to me for a little bit until she found me boring and turned away which ya know can’t fault her for that. LOVES IT.
She goes all the way back to her upbringing as the child of a diplomat, moving around the world every few years. The specific childhood memories she recounted were the most fascinating stories of the night. Born in Missouri, she grew up in Cuba, where she became fluent in Spanish, and then moved to Venezuela after the embassy in Cuba shuttered. Her memorable story of a run-in with a family that also moved from Cuba to Venezuela and blamed her father for not getting the chance to move to America would sound fake but you can’t make that kind of thing up. I wish we could more stories about her fascinating life abroad, which eventually took her to London for high school. I don’t know if many in the audience knew that she had such strong ties here but you could feel a wave of respect for the sort-of kinsman take over the crowd, which by the way was all gay guys, middle-aged ladies who very vocally would respond ‘mm-hmm!’ ‘ohh yes’ and ‘wow’, and me.
As she shares snippets of these remarkable moments of her life, the band – her music director on piano plus a guitarist and bassist – would cut in with a few mostly recognizable notes as she launched into fitting songs for their position in the stories. Sometimes it was overly dramatized and I would have rolled my eyes a little at how unnecessary the drama was but I was enjoying seeing this larger than life woman in person too much. They mostly performed standards, many I knew, plus some newer songs and one that was written for her specifically (which was the weakest of the bunch). Her rendition of Cole Porter’s ‘Let’s Fall in Love’, a song usually performed cheerfully, was reminiscent of her earlier movie roles in its directness and boldness. I loved hearing some of my favorite musical theatre standards like ‘You’ve Got to be Carefully Taught’, which felt much shorter than usual, and ‘On the Street Where You Live’, which was among the most moving parts of the show given its matching story. But the best part was when I thought ‘Man her voice really would be incredible on ‘Brother, Can You Spare a Dime’’ and then she sang it. The gloom of that song, the grim outlook, it works so well with the guttural roar she produces. Even when she would exhale during the speaking portions, it would come out like a low groan, like a storm was always rumbling.
One of her stories was about her famous theatre friend asking if she sang, to which Kathleen, never one to shirk from a challenge, said yes, and that’s how this cabaret was made. But her voice, a growl emanating from the deepest reaches, is not a pretty voice to listen to. I thought sometimes that there were too many songs to sit through. And yet it works with these songs and in telling her stories. This voice screams out for these old standards, as she seems like a throwback to another time too. And for the most part she is. Her heyday is over, but she is fighting to reclaim her place in the business now that her serious health scare is somewhat under control. And she’s defiant, about her place in the business then and now and whether she cares what you think about it all (she doesn’t). I loved how some of her stories about her movie career were so one-sided that you kind of knew she was leaving out important details, but it didn’t matter. These were her memories and if they don’t match with what someone else says about her, tough. The one weak song I mentioned was written about her extensive support and volunteer work for Planned Parenthood, and the matter-of-factness with which she talked about it, as if no one would object, showed that she knew no one would dare cross her on this. And sure no one would in that audience, and sure it’s completely different to talk about that outside the USA, but even so you could tell from her demeanor that she would be speaking of it with the same bluntness and confidence no matter where she was. The song lyrics were a little too on the nose about clinic happenings to be musically impressive, but I loved the approach to it and the fact that she performed this unabashedly in her life story concert.
Other highlights included a song in Spanish and a hilarious story about her time working with Francis Ford Coppola, and even he couldn’t escape her, let’s call it candor. I love that she is honest and assertive and doesn’t care about being nice, traits that usually end up producing people who are much better than anyone who cares about being ‘nice’. She is the epitome of someone who gives no fucks – which you could realize by the sheer fact that it’s Kathleen Turner doing a musical cabaret ffs – and I love it.
INFORMATION
“Finding My Voice” is touring England until May 14. Google details if you live in like Horsham? Oh and it ends in Edinburgh and I know some of you live there.
STAGE DOOR
She came out! She asked that no one take pictures but she signed and talked to me for a little bit until she found me boring and turned away which ya know can’t fault her for that. LOVES IT.
“Home, I’m Darling”: Hey Mama Welcome to the ‘50s, oh oh oh oh oh oh
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about “Home, I’m Darling”, which ended its run on September 5 at London’s Dorfman Theatre.
In the opening scene of the wonderful new play “Home, I’m Darling”, you’re quickly transported to the 1950s, watching a “terribly happy”, no, “appallingly happy!” husband and wife go through their morning routine: the full-skirted wife in her brightly colored period-perfect kitchen dotes on her husband and serves him his perfectly toasted toast, his perfectly made tea, before bidding him farewell as he gathers his hat and briefcase and sets off for the office. It’s all very first-half-of-‘Pleasantville’, until the wife slumps into her chair and pulls out a silver MacBook from a drawer. With that flawless introduction, we know we have this couple not in the ‘50s, but living today, among us, who are actively choosing to live like they are stuck in the past. Why they would do this and how happy they could really be are the first questions that spring to mind, of many, and this play does a marvelous job of answering them.
In the opening scene of the wonderful new play “Home, I’m Darling”, you’re quickly transported to the 1950s, watching a “terribly happy”, no, “appallingly happy!” husband and wife go through their morning routine: the full-skirted wife in her brightly colored period-perfect kitchen dotes on her husband and serves him his perfectly toasted toast, his perfectly made tea, before bidding him farewell as he gathers his hat and briefcase and sets off for the office. It’s all very first-half-of-‘Pleasantville’, until the wife slumps into her chair and pulls out a silver MacBook from a drawer. With that flawless introduction, we know we have this couple not in the ‘50s, but living today, among us, who are actively choosing to live like they are stuck in the past. Why they would do this and how happy they could really be are the first questions that spring to mind, of many, and this play does a marvelous job of answering them.
With Laura Wade’s compelling script, tight and well edited yet large in scope, “Home, I’m Darling” seems like it will be a straightforward look at gender roles and whether feminism really does encompass the choice to be subordinate, but it develops into a complex deep-dive into what makes a marriage successful. When we meet Judy and Johnny, they’ve been doing this 1950s experiment for 3 years, after Judy was made redundant at her high-powered finance job (which we see in a truly great use of flexible and creative direction). Since the two of them love ‘50s fashion and old-timey cars, Judy suggests that they go all-in and she becomes a stereotypical ‘50s housewife, doing housework (with only era-appropriate appliances and cleaning methods, which she learns from her ‘bible’, a 1949 instruction book for housewives) and cooking (meat and potatoes and other suitably ‘50s meals) and baking up a storm and bringing her husband his slippers and a cocktail every day when he gets home from work. They turn their house and every aspect of their marriage into a flashback, not realizing that moving back in time will prevent them from growing together in their marriage.
Since the play is written and directed by women, I assumed like any good feminist that the woman would get sick and tired of being subordinate. But the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that. It unexpectedly becomes a stark look at the futility of trying to capture ‘the good old days’ when it’s really a means of hiding from your own problems. I was surprised that Johnny (Richard Harrington), waited on hand and foot, would ever get tired of the arrangement, assuming that it would be a dream for him and most men. But of course he did, because both people in a relationship have to take care of each other, and anything too one-sided is going to fail. Johnny also starts to lose respect for his wife, and a self-conscious embarrassment when outsiders see how they live soon takes over.
And Judy, who seems at first to be a straightforward housewife with some self-esteem issues, is much more complex too. Played by a fantastic Katherine Parkinson, Judy desperately clings to this lifestyle, even when faced with how many problems it’s causing, because it’s her way of feeling safe against the outside world. I was struck by Katherine’s too-calm tone in her delivery, like she was deliberately avoiding causing any kind of stir to upset not only her husband but the fragile world they created. When she finally confronts why she would want to live like this, Judy admits that she feels like when you’d be sick from school for a week, missing crucial lessons and feeling a little lost on those topics from that point forward, terrified that there will be a question on the exam about that. “That’s how I feel about the world”, she says. This bubble she wanted to create was the ultimate safe space for her, and if it doesn’t work, then she’ll have to deal with her own issues.
Including the backstory of Judy’s unconventional upbringing, which influenced her worldview as well, could have felt forced but instead it seemed earnest. Raised by an uber-feminist mother (a really fun Sian Thomas, in a role that could have easily been annoying but instead was cathartic) on a commune, Judy always felt a yearning for a traditional family life. Her mother, horrified by her daughter’s decision to live this way, is the only voice of reason, continually admonishing Judy and reminding her of how silly it all is with great lines like, “You can’t be nostalgic for the ‘50s – you weren’t there!” But rather than nostalgia, it’s more a dream of an escape, an avoidance of the real world, and she has transformed her feeling of being ill-equipped to handle the real world into a decision to stay safe and secure in this way.
Plenty of time is spent looking into their relationship with their best friends and into Johnny’s work life, which lets us see the fully formed universe of this story. Johnny’s deteriorating performance at work is linked to his unhappiness at home, as is his seemingly desperate and superficial attraction to his new young boss, something modern to tell himself he wants instead of dealing with problems. Their friends Fran and Marcus enjoy dressing up in period clothes sometimes and joining Judy and Johnny at something called Jivestock, an annual weekend event that sounds like my absolute nightmare. But their reticence to commit to playing unnatural parts feels like a personal injury to Judy, like yet another little poke at her bubble threatening to force her into an unwanted reckoning. When the man friend is in trouble at work for sexual harassment, it’s unclear whether Judy’s inclination to immediate side with him (against the more-and-more obviously right victim) is a result of her role-playing warping her brain or something she actually believes in, and the haze around this side plot is brilliantly formed.
Also brilliantly formed is the set, and honestly even if you weren’t into the story, you could happily spent the 2 ½ hours examining all the details of the two-story house they built. Each room was a different bright color with period-perfect décor, down to the pineapple-shaped ice bucket on their chic mid-century modern bar. Same for Judy’s gorgeous costumes, although the rest of the costumes left me cold. And I’ve never, ever seen any play that has such elaborate prop work, most of it food. SO MUCH FOOD! They eat breakfast, she makes his lunch, they eat dinner, she bakes, she cooks for guests, they eat dinner again – I can’t remember one 10 second snippet of this play that didn’t have food or cocktails involved. Honestly I don’t know how the actors or the crew keep track of all of that (and I hope they don’t waste all of it).
Aside from the scene breaks, in which two actors would dance to ‘50s music while the scene changed (it was hella awkward when they aren’t professional dancers), there’s not much I would change about this play. Although it seems like a straightforward story, the complicated issues of our protagonists are unexpected and profound, and the show reveals a lot more about the modern world and relationships than you’d think from the candy-colored look of it all.
INFORMATION
Yeah so I didn’t know I was seeing it on the last day! I am really hoping for a transfer of some sort because it deserves a longer run in a bigger theatre, especially to get more use out of that set!
I bought a Friday rush ticket (the National Theatre offers rush tickets for the following week’s performances across its theatres at noon every Friday) for 24 pounddollars, for a restricted view seat. My seat, P58, was on the stage right side of the mezzanine, which I really liked for one reason (the stage and stalls are actually below ground so my mezz seat was ground level (I don’t like being underground)) and disliked for most others (it was really restricted). There’s a big bar like RIGHT THERE so I had to do a lot of leaning over to see the living room at stage right. Even P59 would be a better option, even though it’s a more extreme angle, because the bar isn’t there. Just so you know for Dorfman bookings.
As is expected at every London play I see, the audience (and mostly the older men) laughed at WEIRD times. Like, when the friend admits that he’s on leave from work because he was inappropriate with his secretary, the old men in the audience LAUGHED. I imagine they were laughing in remembered commiseration like ‘ho boy do I know what that’s like!’ man alive.
Since the play is written and directed by women, I assumed like any good feminist that the woman would get sick and tired of being subordinate. But the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that. It unexpectedly becomes a stark look at the futility of trying to capture ‘the good old days’ when it’s really a means of hiding from your own problems. I was surprised that Johnny (Richard Harrington), waited on hand and foot, would ever get tired of the arrangement, assuming that it would be a dream for him and most men. But of course he did, because both people in a relationship have to take care of each other, and anything too one-sided is going to fail. Johnny also starts to lose respect for his wife, and a self-conscious embarrassment when outsiders see how they live soon takes over.
And Judy, who seems at first to be a straightforward housewife with some self-esteem issues, is much more complex too. Played by a fantastic Katherine Parkinson, Judy desperately clings to this lifestyle, even when faced with how many problems it’s causing, because it’s her way of feeling safe against the outside world. I was struck by Katherine’s too-calm tone in her delivery, like she was deliberately avoiding causing any kind of stir to upset not only her husband but the fragile world they created. When she finally confronts why she would want to live like this, Judy admits that she feels like when you’d be sick from school for a week, missing crucial lessons and feeling a little lost on those topics from that point forward, terrified that there will be a question on the exam about that. “That’s how I feel about the world”, she says. This bubble she wanted to create was the ultimate safe space for her, and if it doesn’t work, then she’ll have to deal with her own issues.
Including the backstory of Judy’s unconventional upbringing, which influenced her worldview as well, could have felt forced but instead it seemed earnest. Raised by an uber-feminist mother (a really fun Sian Thomas, in a role that could have easily been annoying but instead was cathartic) on a commune, Judy always felt a yearning for a traditional family life. Her mother, horrified by her daughter’s decision to live this way, is the only voice of reason, continually admonishing Judy and reminding her of how silly it all is with great lines like, “You can’t be nostalgic for the ‘50s – you weren’t there!” But rather than nostalgia, it’s more a dream of an escape, an avoidance of the real world, and she has transformed her feeling of being ill-equipped to handle the real world into a decision to stay safe and secure in this way.
Plenty of time is spent looking into their relationship with their best friends and into Johnny’s work life, which lets us see the fully formed universe of this story. Johnny’s deteriorating performance at work is linked to his unhappiness at home, as is his seemingly desperate and superficial attraction to his new young boss, something modern to tell himself he wants instead of dealing with problems. Their friends Fran and Marcus enjoy dressing up in period clothes sometimes and joining Judy and Johnny at something called Jivestock, an annual weekend event that sounds like my absolute nightmare. But their reticence to commit to playing unnatural parts feels like a personal injury to Judy, like yet another little poke at her bubble threatening to force her into an unwanted reckoning. When the man friend is in trouble at work for sexual harassment, it’s unclear whether Judy’s inclination to immediate side with him (against the more-and-more obviously right victim) is a result of her role-playing warping her brain or something she actually believes in, and the haze around this side plot is brilliantly formed.
Also brilliantly formed is the set, and honestly even if you weren’t into the story, you could happily spent the 2 ½ hours examining all the details of the two-story house they built. Each room was a different bright color with period-perfect décor, down to the pineapple-shaped ice bucket on their chic mid-century modern bar. Same for Judy’s gorgeous costumes, although the rest of the costumes left me cold. And I’ve never, ever seen any play that has such elaborate prop work, most of it food. SO MUCH FOOD! They eat breakfast, she makes his lunch, they eat dinner, she bakes, she cooks for guests, they eat dinner again – I can’t remember one 10 second snippet of this play that didn’t have food or cocktails involved. Honestly I don’t know how the actors or the crew keep track of all of that (and I hope they don’t waste all of it).
Aside from the scene breaks, in which two actors would dance to ‘50s music while the scene changed (it was hella awkward when they aren’t professional dancers), there’s not much I would change about this play. Although it seems like a straightforward story, the complicated issues of our protagonists are unexpected and profound, and the show reveals a lot more about the modern world and relationships than you’d think from the candy-colored look of it all.
INFORMATION
Yeah so I didn’t know I was seeing it on the last day! I am really hoping for a transfer of some sort because it deserves a longer run in a bigger theatre, especially to get more use out of that set!
I bought a Friday rush ticket (the National Theatre offers rush tickets for the following week’s performances across its theatres at noon every Friday) for 24 pounddollars, for a restricted view seat. My seat, P58, was on the stage right side of the mezzanine, which I really liked for one reason (the stage and stalls are actually below ground so my mezz seat was ground level (I don’t like being underground)) and disliked for most others (it was really restricted). There’s a big bar like RIGHT THERE so I had to do a lot of leaning over to see the living room at stage right. Even P59 would be a better option, even though it’s a more extreme angle, because the bar isn’t there. Just so you know for Dorfman bookings.
As is expected at every London play I see, the audience (and mostly the older men) laughed at WEIRD times. Like, when the friend admits that he’s on leave from work because he was inappropriate with his secretary, the old men in the audience LAUGHED. I imagine they were laughing in remembered commiseration like ‘ho boy do I know what that’s like!’ man alive.
