British Stereotype Overload: Afternoon Tea at the Ritz (Vegan Version!)by Randi / November 20, 2018Hadestown at London’s National Theatre: A Riveting Epic of Love, Death…and Capitalism
It’s Theatre Thursday! And it’s Thanksgiving, so today we are talking about a show I’m thankful for, quite possibly my favorite show right now, Hadestown.
As with our recently reviewed Twelfth Night, I’ve been waiting a while to see what everyone in New York has been raving about regarding this modernish musical retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth. People said that if Hadestown had opened on Broadway last season, it would have beaten The Band’s Visit for the Tony, and I was like ‘Umm Kulthum is that possible?’ Turns out, much as I stan TBV, yes, it’s true. Hadestown is one of the greatest shows in years and years, and is destined a classic that will never cease to amaze.
It’s such a great concept. I’m a huge mythology buff, and I still remember the words to the title song from our fifth grade mythology play “It’s All Greek To Me” (forking excellent title, right?). My favorite line was “Zeus was their king and Hera was their queen/sometimes they were wonderful sometimes they were mean.” So true guys. And one of my many roles (I was a child star) in that play was Persephone’s best friend, so her myth has always been special for me. Combining the familiar mythology with an original score (and some mythological bendabouting), Hadestown seems pretty brilliant on paper, and turns out it’s extremely brilliant in real life. It’s the only musical in London producing such thrilling theatrical magic onstage that feels incredibly new and fresh, all while being not only an interesting take on a classic romance but also an allegory of capitalism vs. socialism. I KNOW.
Before we get to the show, I need to share a little glimpse into my brain. A few weeks before our performance, Husbo P asked what it was about. And I said “Oh it’s like a retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice with all original music by Anais Nin!” Husbo P, being a man of knowledge, said, “Um, that can’t be right”, and I, being a woman of nonsense brain, said in an impression of Yente from Fiddler, “Right? Of course right!” and Husbo said, “Anais Nin has been dead for decades. Is it old music? Did she even write music?” and I, being stubborn, said “Well of course she wrote music because she wrote this!” and Husbo said “Well still, I think she died in the ‘70s…” and I said “Well this was written fairly recently.”
Reader, Anais Nin, a French-Cuban-American writer, indeed died in 1977. I meant Anais Mitchell.
So, with an original, enthralling score by Anais Mitchell, Hadestown tells of how Orpheus and Eurydice, two poor dreamers trying to make their way in this world (or maybe just find food), fall in love but get swept into the orbit of Hades, the god of the Underworld. They attempt to solve the age-old struggle of tragic love stories: the strength of love against the power of death. Okay that might be a direct quote from Once on This Island but it works here, except instead of just the power of death, O&E are also testing love’s strength against the god of death. Okay that’s in Once on This Island too. (Hey, as Hermes sings in the beginning, “it’s an old song, but we’re gonna sing it again.”) Well they mainly test love against doubt in that love, which here is even more insidious and devastating than death.
Our lovers meet in a café that could have begun La Boheme (too early for Rent). The vibe of the opening music is very jazzy, like old-fashioned steampunk-as-portrayed-in-the-Bad-Place with Hermes singing how “on the road to hell, there was a railroad line”. The buzz in the room is undeniable, the excitement created by this jazz-age throwback. It sets a fun and intriguing tone for the show, which rarely has a low point or misstep in score, book, direction, anything. Todd Sickafoose’s orchestrations are wonderful too. Okay I don’t really know too much about orchestrating but I needed to mention that last name because it’s how I imagine Samuel L. Jackson yelling on a plane if there were too many fools onboard. (I’M SICK A THESE MUHFU**ING FOOS ON THIS MUHFU**ING PLANE I’M SICKAFOOSE /end scene.)
As for that direction, as helmed by Rachel Chavkin, who staged my beloved Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 on Broadway, Hadestown comes alive with great use of the space. I loved the efficient, effective use of the turntables and especially what’s in the middle of them. And at a few moments, Chavkin’s genius shines through with actually jaw-dropping brilliance, most notably during Hades’s powerful song “Why We Build a Wall”. The staging and sound mixing at this moment was the high point of the production. This is where Chavkin’s command of space, as we saw in Great Comet, shone the brightest (along with the bright lights). It’s a spellbinding performance of a riveting and relevant song. I couldn’t blink during this song, since it was the kind of theatrical magic you hope to experience a few times in your theatre-going career. The song, despite being written in 2010, feels like a direct response to the current political climate. The incredible staging of that scene was, to quote the Great Comet, “really beyond anything.”
Really, the whole show feels like a response to daily politics, and it’s continually surprising that it wasn’t written in the past week. Hadestown uses the well-known Orpheus tale and all the stories that swirl around Hades to weave a political allegory representing the evils of capitalism and the potential of socialism. It’s a remarkable thing to discern the layers in this musical, and realize it’s so much more than a retelling of a familiar love story. While it’s standard for theatre to respond to the politics of its age, it’s rare for a show to do so actually well, and while maintaining pure brilliance and beauty.
The material would stand with anyone, but this cast is truly off the charts flawless. As Orpheus, Reeve Carney (best known for not dying in Broadway’s Spider-Man) is ideal as the skinny white emo boy who thinks everything could be solved with one great love song (*cough* Roger from Rent *cough* (except unlike Roger’s “Your Eyes”, Orpheus’s love songs are actually good (good, they are insanely great))). Some people might say his voice is the weakest, but it’s like a reed, it’s thin but deceptively strong. He’s so well cast, and he deserves credit for carrying the show. No one has even close to his amount of stage time. As Eurydice, Eva Noblezada (who blew us away a few years ago as the newest Miss Saigon) is adorable and winning, although I wish her impressive voice got a song that actually showed it off to its full extent more that just the last bit of Wait for Me II (although, admittedly, holy crap, it’s my favorite 20 seconds in modern musical history). Patrick Page (also didn’t die in Spider-Man yayyy), with his truly otherworldly voice, seemingly coming from depths not of this earth, is the perfect Hades. Especially during “Hey Little Songbird”, his incredibly deep bass makes the predatory tinge of this song even more disturbing and upsetting. You can feel the lowest notes of his range in your soul, shattering any sense of calm you might have.
My favorite performances come from Amber Gray as Persephone and Andre de Shields as Hermes. Gray, with that unique raspy voice that somehow becomes clear and strong whenever she needs it to be, is a surprising Persephone, strong and opinionated after a long life spent between two worlds. We meet her at a point in her story much later than anyone has seen before. She brings down the house with her Act II opener “Our Lady of the Underground”, which will make you wish this show was running in rep with a one-woman show about Persephone.
But the coolest cat on that stage is legendary Andre de Shields (also known as the original Wiz) as Hermes, gallivanting between the mortal and divine realms as only Hermes can. And as only Andre can, he commands the stage with his joyful movement, his soulful singing, and his ability to command your attention even when he’s in the background.
The cast also includes a spectacular ensemble. Chavkin’s Great Comet cast raised the bar for diversity on stage, and here she is again doing what she does best: challenging the rest of the theatre world to do better. And it’s not just an issue of diversity in ethnicities – her shows are also the only ones to have diversity in body types, something that truly should be commended yet is rarely talked about.
This is the first show in a while that I can’t wait to see again. It’s emotionally exhausting to watch (I can’t imagine how it is to perform) but in a great way. You know I hate not having anything to complain about but this show is extraordinary. It is by far one of the most compelling and gorgeous scores in modern musical history. A heartbreaking work of staggering genius, really.
INFORMATION
Hadestown is playing at the National Theatre’s Olivier Theatre until January 26, after which I hope it will be transferring to Broadway, where it is sorely needed.
Seating: The Olivier theatre is a big ol’ barn but there aren’t really any bad seats. It’s a huge semi-circle around the stage, so it feels like there are three sides of the stage to sit on. I chose the extreme stage right aisle in the stalls and it was a perfect view, but there are really bright lights that shine directly into your eyeline in the first 10 or so rows, so that sucked. Go farther up or more into the middle (which blows if you like aisles).
Stage door: All the leads came out and signed and took pictures except for Amber Gray (sob), who I believe does not ever stage door. Andre de Shields was the coolest, nicest person to ever talk to and it was honestly an honor.
Oh I do have a complaint: The show art pictured at the top is GORGE, yet the programmes (which you pay for here) are super boring black and white, just with the title printed and nothing else. I demand a sad-rose programme.
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Lin-Manuel Miranda’s “Hamilton” Is So Much Better Than All The Hype You Can’t Even Begin to Fathom
I know that’s a bold headline but it’s true. If you don’t live under a rock and/or you go outside every once in a while and talk to people, then you know that “Hamilton” is the biggest and bestest thing in pop culture right now. It’s a new hip-hop musical about the founding fathers and the beginning of America, and it’s the most brilliant freaking thing I have ever freaking encountered in my entire freaking life. I mean brilliant in both the U.S. and U.K. ways, guys. And unlike every other time I’ve said something as hyperbolic as this, I’m not exaggerating.
While yes, it is about first treasury secretary and master scribe Alexander Hamilton (durr…sir), the best thing (okay one of the many best things) about writer/creator/genius* Lin-Manuel Miranda is that his shows are true ensemble pieces. It’s just as much about Aaron Burr as it is about Hamilton – especially because Burr is the wisely made the narrator. It’s just as much about Thomas Jefferson as it is about George Washington. We learn more about John Laurens and Hercules Mulligan than any history textbook has ever bothered to impart. Everyone now knows that Eliza Hamilton founded the first orphanage in NYC and spent her later years as a remarkable philanthropist. And don’t get me started on Marquis de Lafayette. LAFAYETTE! We effectively and efficiently learn so much information about all these people and more in a (relatively) short amount of time because Lin grew up doing school theatre, where the best shows have lots of great parts for all your friends. Thus, all his shows have lots of amazing parts for men and women, not just one lead and a lot of chorus roles. Yay school theatre! GENIUS*.
People who didn’t know any better doubted its brilliance at first hearing about it and were like, “Why are you using rap and hip-hop to do a musical about the founding fathers?” and “Why are you using black and Latino actors to play the very white Washington and Jefferson and Madison &c?” Answers: because it makes so much sense. As to the latter, Lin has repeatedly explained that this story of how America was in the beginning is being told (and should be told) by how America looks now. It’s a story about the immigrants that founded our country so why not tell it with today’s immigrants (or at least those that Trump would assume were immigrants). Also, it adds a lot of depth to have unrepentant slavers like Thomas Jefferson portrayed by black actors, while other black and Latino actors argue that, in the words of John Laurens, none of them will be free until they end slavery. This clever casting also has King George of England, the universally accepted villain early on, played by a white actor, the only white actor in a named part, turning the too common trope of a villain being dark-skinned on its head. (That kind of shit is over, right? No more Jafar movies?). As king, Jonathan Groff also comes across the youngest onstage, adding to the idea that he has no hold over these men. Groff’s brief scenes are played as a silly foppish fancy man and it’s hilarious; he has the audience eating out of the palm of his hand before he figuratively slaps them across the face with it.
As for the music, hip-hop (inclusive of rap) is the most purely American type of music, our lingua franca. (Well, for a large portion of our country. And it tells stories and represents problems and current issues better than any other.) Hip-hop tells stories just like Hamilton’s and those of all the founding fathers, really. Alexander was orphaned young on a small island and worked his way out by reading and writing and becoming brilliant, scrappily fighting his way to the top of a new nation and its government. So hip hop. It also makes perfect sense to frame a Cabinet debate as a rap battle – both have lots of words and passion and the winner might not have the best argument (unless it’s Hamilton arguing because he usually does) but they definitely looked or sounded the best.
That’s all really interesting and thought-provoking, but why is everyone from Busta Rhymes to President Obama to Meryl Streep losing their shit over this show, you might wonder? Even with the inspired casting and genre choices, how can it be repeatedly called the greatest piece of theatre in modern history (and possibly the greatest rap album of the year as well)? This is because every detail, every single word is meticulously chosen and in a short burst of perfectly metered rap you can learn more than an entire year’s worth of school history. I have almost the entire score memorized and even so, every listen brings a new revelation and lesson about early American history. That’s why it’s genius. The sold-out audiences every night are actually learning, about the revolution, the struggle to form a stable nation, as well as how all of those lessons apply to modern political times.
One such brilliant bit comes courtesy of Hercules Mulligan (Okieriete Onaodowan), who has my favorite delivery of any character and is inspired by and supposed to remind you of Busta Rhymes. In “My Shot” he says:
Yo, I’m a tailor’s apprentice
And I got y’all knuckleheads in loco parentis
I’m joining the rebellion cuz I know it’s my chance
To socially advance instead of sewin’ some pants
This verse, while amazing and adorable (Hercules’s insider-tailor jokes never disappoint), sneaks in a history lesson: Hamilton actually lived in Mulligan’s house while Ham attended King’s College (Columbia) because the school required him to have lodging with some sort of guardian. So Mulligan really ended up acting in loco parentis. This is like a NOTHING line compared with the rest of the show and look how much we’re learning.
One more. In the song “Right Hand Man”, when we first meet George Washington (in a scene that will guaranteed make you feel patriotic, no matter if you aren’t American), Washington sings:
Boom! goes the cannon, watch the blood and the shit spray, and
Boom! goes the cannon, we’re abandoning Kips Bay, and
Boom there’s another ship and
We just lost the southern tip and
We gotta run to Harlem quick
We can’t afford another slip
Guns and horses giddyup
I decide to divvy up
My forces, they’re skittish as the British cut the city up
This close to giving up, facing mad scrutiny,
I scream in the face of this mass mutiny:
Are these the men with which I am to defend America?
These lines come from “Right Hand Man”, chronicling the 1776 Landing of Kips Bay, when thousands of British soldiers forced American militia back from lower Manhattan and allowed more British ships and troops to enter Manhattan unopposed, starting British occupation of Manhattan for pretty much the entirety of the war. Most of Washington’s men fled quickly despite his frustrated attempts to keep them from retreating. Washington and the continental army had to flee all the way to Harlem Heights to get out of what became British occupied territory. That last line is an actual quote Washington shouted when he realized what was happening and was like ‘are you shitting me guys.’ And it just blends perfectly into the rhyme. For those enjoying the cast album, the record scratches on ‘guns and horses giddyup’ are meant to – and successfully do – resemble a horse neighing AND kind of sound like a car engine starting.
With almost every line as full as these, the show is an effective history lesson. But more importantly, every song is actually great. The melodies produced here are as perfectly constructed and impressive as the lyrics. Some of the best songs produced in recent times are in this show, many sung by our narrator, Aaron Burr. Instead of being cast aside as the villain who shot and killed a guy who was sort of important but never president – pretty much how you learn about them in school – Burr is seen as regretful, for years and years falling behind Hamilton’s rapid ascent to political and public glory despite his best efforts to match or best him. Comparisons of the two men start early on, with both orphaned political and military upstarts becoming involved in the revolution and government, but with Hamilton always loudly speaking exactly what he believed and with Burr always thinking it’s better to stay reserved so as not to ruffle any feathers. Burr repeatedly tells Hamilton to talk less, and warns that fools who run their mouths off wind up dead, while Hamilton admonishes “If you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for?” They’re each other’s most honest judge of character.
Burr as narrator begins the show laying bare his regret at killing his one-time friend and often-times colleague, and at the end laments how history will remember him and how mistaken he was. Yet through Leslie Odom Jr.’s off-the-charts fantastic portrayal of Burr, sir, this show gives us a chance to see Burr as much more than a dull 2D figure in a history book. The complexities to his character never stop astonishing, and while the same can be said for Hamilton, it’s Burr trajectory and choices that are much more interesting and that haunt you for a long time after seeing it played out on stage.
Somehow, Lin wrote every character in this show just as captivatingly as he did Burr and Hamilton. Much of this comes to life courtesy of Daveed Diggs, a magical actor and rapper who plays my man Lafayette in the first act as the most fun Frenchman EVER, and Thomas Jefferson in the second act, as a pedantic fancypants (literally, velvet pants) pro-slavery anti-federalism asshat. I’m not sure which portrayal is more impressive, but his Jefferson – all pretty accurate too – will make you rethink why we consider this guy a hero. Especially in his Cabinet Battles with Hamilton, you’ll be like, get this dude out of my country’s founding yo. In the first Battle, he argues for states rights against Hamilton’s promotion of a federal government and, mainly, financial system. When Thomas asks why should Virginia, thriving with no debt, be responsible to pay for the flailing NYC’s debts, Hamilton answers, “Your debts are paid cuz you don’t pay for labor.” BURN. Hashtag endslavery. I want Leslie Odom Jr. to win a Tony for Best Actor very, very badly, but I want Daveed to win for Featured Actor just as badly.
My main man Okieriete “Oak” Onaodowan kills it KILLS IT as Hercules Mulligan (BRAHH BRAHH), a man I thought was a made-up half-mythical creature half-golf pro character or something, but no. He was really a hero in the revolution, a tailor (a great one at that, husband!) who had fancy British military clients in New York and spied on them and passed the information to the rebels. We learn about his secret dealings in my FAVORITE rap part of Act 1, when he sings insanely rapidly: “I take their measurements, information, and then I smuggle it up/to my brothers’ revolutionary covenant/I’m running with the Sons of Liberty and I am LOVIN it.” He spits this line so fast it just sounds like one word and it’s my favorite thing. Oak Smash! He also has the unstoppable line “Hercules Mulligan, I need no introduction/when you knock me down I get the fuck back up again”. OMG I LOVE IT. In Act II, he plays a mostly ill James Madison, ill in the health sense and ill for being Jefferson’s buddy. See I am so hip-hop too. Oak also was the first celebrity to eat my vegan cookies so hayyyy. Anthony Ramos somehow portrays John Laurens perfectly in Act I and then plays a 9-year-old in Act II (Hamilton’s son Phillip). It’s a pretty remarkable transformation, and his scenes in Act II will crush your heart like they do in “Once Upon A Time”. Side note, how beautiful is “It’s Quiet Uptown”? That will also crush you.
One of the most genius* aspects of “Hamilton” is that Lin injected some incredible female characters into the history of America’s founding, and not merely Betsy Ross (though she does get a quick mention). Ham married Elizabeth Schuyler, a wealthy gal from a very important family. He also had an emotional affair with her older sister Angelica. Lin turns these two characters, plus their younger sister Peggy, into a colonial Destiny’s Child, spouting rhymes about feminism and revolution and all-around awesomeness. While Eliza is the lovely, sweet, trusting and kind one who gets the most beautiful ballads, Angelica is the tough, witty, and super-intelligent one that is the only match for Ham’s wits. When we first meet the sisters in the appropriately named “The Schuyler Sisters”, a legit Destiny’s Child tune, Angelica sings:
“I’ve been reading Common Sense by Thomas Paine”
So men say that I’m intense or I’m insane.
You want a revolution? I want a revelation,
So listen to my declaration:
We hold these truths to be self evident
That all men are created equal.
And when I meet Thomas Jefferson?
I’ma compel him to include women in the sequel!
WERK!”
The repeated shouts of “work/werk” are amazing, as is everything that comes out of Renee Elise Goldsberry’s mouth. As Angelica, she makes a supporting female character the most charismatic and compelling on stage, and she sings and raps with the best of them. As Eliza, Phillippa Soo is lovely and lovable and you just want her to smile but life was hard back then and Ham messes up a lot. As Peggy, Jasmine Cephas Jones has literally one line and is so unimportant that in Act II she plays a different character. Werk?
Eliza and Angelica’s one-two punch of “Helpless”, when Eliza meets and falls in love (and married) Ham, into “Satisfied”, when Angelica rewinds the scene (literally…one of the most incredible technical scenes I’ve ever seen) to give her perspective of that fateful night, efficient develops these two important characters in such a relatively short time and in such a remarkable way. We learn so, so much in those two songs, and they are fantastic songs. Angelica’s rapping in “Satisfied” is some of the most impressive in the show, and they provide so much depth and insight into her mindset and her understanding of her duties to her family. It’s amazing.
I could go on and on. There is so much to this show, so much to the score, that people will be studying it for years, I’m sure. I know tons of school classes are already studying it, because Lin makes sure students and schools have access to see it. (Teachers have said that it’s a more effective teaching tool than their entire year of AP history. Good/bad?) It’ll teach you things you never knew about early American history and our founding fathers and it will change the way you think about them. The lessons the characters learn are applicable to today’s political atmosphere and even to our non-political lives; they are universal human struggles and desires set to sublime music. It’s exactly what a musical should be: it teachers, it challenges you, it uses vibrant and vital music to further a complex but easily understandable story, and it leaves you with so much to think about. SO MUCH. To find one or two of these songs in a regular piece of theatre would be remarkable; you’d be like that show is good and x or y is the best song in it. That’s normal. In “Hamilton”, EVERY song is like that. Almost any of the 40-odd movements would be the best part of any other regular show. And they are ALL in “Hamilton”. Now that is amazing.
A few pieces of musical reference Genius to share with you that aren’t spoilers just because I literally cannot stop talking or thinking about it and I’m sure we will be getting a regular thinkpiece on it every so often here:
When we first meet Marquis de Lafayette (called Lafayette throughout, none of that Gilbert nonsense), he introduces himself thusly:
Oui oui, mon ami, je m’appelle Lafayette,
The Lancelot of the revolutionary set
I came from afar just to say bon soir
Tell the king casse toi
Who’s the best? C’est moi
This verse is rapped so hilariously by Daveed Diggs in a thick French accent, but what makes it even better is knowing that one of Lin’s childhood musical influences was “Camelot”, which has a song called “C’est Moi”. What happens in “Camelot” during that song? Lancelot is introduced. I KNOW!!
In the aforementioned “Right Hand Man”, the chorus raps “Here comes the General!” and Washington spits a few lines and then says:
Now I’m the model of a modern major general
The venerated Virginian veteran whose men are all
Lining up, to put me up on a pedestal.
I’m sure you all know that Gilbert & Sullivan’s famous “Pirates of Penzance” has a very famous song called “Modern Major-General”, which begins:
“I am the very model of a modern Major-General
I’ve information animal, vegetable, and mineral.”
Lin said he knew he could come up with a better rhyme than ‘mineral.’
Another GENIUS move in “My Shot” comes after John Laurens, one of the first and best fighters against slavery, raps about how despite their being in the middle of the Revolution, they’ll never be free until slavery is over. Aaron Burr replies:
I’m with you, but the situation is fraught
You’ve got to be carefully taught:
If you talk, you’re gonna get shot.
So, obviously, “You’ve Got to be Carefully Taught” is the title of the great song in “South Pacific”. Aaand, it’s about teaching kids racism while they’re young. While this line has Burr tell the others not to be so upfront with their views, it’s ALSO responding to the verse Laurens says about slavery and thus racism with the title of a song about racism. Erma.
And finally, a few references (out of many more, I’m sure) to Lin’s first big hit, “In The Heights”. The best song from that show is “96,000”, about what all the different characters would hypothetically do with lottery winnings that big.
In “Hamilton”, in the opening of “Right Hand Man”, the ensemble quietly sings “32,000 troops in New York Harbor.” And you know what? They sing that line exactly three times. 32,000 x 3 = 96,000. (Dollahs? Hollah.) whoa.
In “My Shot”, when detailing all the reasons for the Revolution, Hamilton raps:
We are meant to be a colony
That runs independently
Meanwhile, Britain keeps shittin’ on us endlessly
Essentially, they tax us relentlessly
Then King George turns around, runs a spending spree…
In the beginning of “96,000”, Benny (originally played by Chris Jackson, who plays George Washington in “Hamilton”), sings
“If I won the lotto tomorrow well I know
I wouldn’t bother going on no spending spree”
Erma.
Also, we learn at the end that Eliza founds the first orphanage in NYC (which is beautiful in so many ways, not least because her husband was an orphan). What we don’t learn in the show is that that she also founds the first school in Washington Heights. Lin decided not to include that piece of info because there’s no other way to say but in those exact words, “in Washington Heights”, and that’s just too on-the-nose for “In The Heights” famous lasting lines. But so interesting right! Just go see the show, go buy tickets for next summer (that’s like first available) or buy the album and listen to it all day and you will learn SO GODDAMN MUCH.
*I know I say genius a lot here but seriously, he won a MacArthur genius grant for this shiz. He is a genius.
Now do yourself a favor and listen to one of the best songs written in a decade, “Wait For It”, which beautifully explains why Burr acts as he does.
The Convert at the Young Vic: Help Me Baby Jesus
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is The Convert, which just ended its run at the Young Vic but will probably be seen again soon.
At the end of 2018, I read that Letitia Wright was the most bankable star of the year, based on her appearance in two of the biggest blockbusters – Black Panther and Avengers: Yet Another – as well as Ready Player One. I thought wow, that’s a pretty big accomplishment for this what, teenager? what a lucky break for her. But it’s not luck (and she’s not a teenager, just blessed). Letitia Wright is a forking marvel (see what I did there) and deserves to bring in all the box office dollars, for screen or stage. As the star of the new play The Convert, Wright showed that she can do a lot more than turn all of modern science on its head and cure all injuries with alien metal and make cars that are being driven by a remote computer program or whatever, I can’t even wrap my head around what she did in Black Panther. What she did in The Convert, though, was prove that she has the ability to lead an intense stage work and to improve whatever she’s in with her dynamic presence.
And her costar in those two big blockbusters, Danai Gurira, has shown that she can do more than lead entire armies and be generally the baddest ass in the world. She can also write interesting, compelling, original plays, and produce works that satisfy a need in today’s theatre. Those of you in the know will be like, she didn’t ‘just’ prove any of this; she’s an accomplished playwright. But see, until the current ad campaign for this production of The Convert that went on about how the two Black Panther stars were reuniting, I didn’t know that General Okoye was the same person that wrote In the Continuum and freaking Eclipsed. She has a Tony nom! I didn’t know when I saw Black Panther that this total boss was a multi-award-winning playwright. If I did I would have pegged her to win the battle from the start.
Well that’s enough raving about the playwright and the star considering I thought this play, written in 2012, was just okay. I know, plot twist. The Convert takes place in 1895 in a village in Africa that is in the midst of being colonized by Bad White People. A young girl named Jekesai (Wright) escapes from an arranged marriage with the help of her aunt (Pamela Nomvete), who works for a prominent black man named Chilford (Paapa Essiedu). Whereas Jekesai and her aunt come from a family of the native tribal people, Chilford is much more westernized. He wears suits in the sweltering heat, compared to their less modest, more weather appropriate clothes. He speaks the Queen’s English (different queen then, if you can imagine) while they speak an African tongue. Most important, he has found Jesus, and he’s even a pastor of some sort, set on converting as many ‘savages’ as he can away from their pagan traditions. He agrees to let Jekesai stay in his house if she changes her name to Ester and begins on a serious journey towards Christianity. What starts off rather humorously (Wright’s first attempt at crossing herself is hysterical) and lighthearted (her aunt getting confused by which name to call her niece) turns serious and rather grim as Jekesai fully accepts a new life as Ester and takes her new religion to its extreme. In her acceptance, she scorns nearly all of her past life, including family and traditions, in the name of Jesus. It’s not funny anymore when she blesses herself; it’s upsetting, because you want to remind her that things are more important than blind faith. Things like family, or a semblance of reason.
While Ester is becoming a superfriend to Big J and trying to convert her fair share of villagers, the native people are getting less and less pleased with the white colonizers taking over things. We hear of more and more problems between the groups, growing in severity and breadth. The angry villagers are no longer just targeting white people; they’re targeting black people who get too close, or act too much like, the white people. People like Chilford, and his friend Chancellor (these names) and his fiancée Prudence, similarly westernized but less tight with Jesus, at least in Chancellor’s case (he’s a bad man). Chancy, as they call him, wants a piece of Ester, and he doesn’t understand what she means by no, or what Jesus says about cheating on your fiancee. One problem I had with this show is that we’re supposed to feel something, probably, about what befalls Chancy, but I was like, okay, justice served.
So about that. Ester’s place in the middle of two worlds begins to take a toll on her, reaching its climax when her uncle and cousin, big on the whole ‘kill whoever is white or acting white’ thing, break into Chilford’s home when she is there with Chancy. The encounter escalates into violence, whether accidental or not, and Ester’s deciding whether to protect her relatives or not in the face of the law builds in a way you can’t see coming.
Although the story is interesting, I didn’t get enough about the why of it all, why the characters were acting like this, why Ester would so fully commit to her conversion and take it beyond what was expected and then why she would react so terribly to the climactic events. I didn’t get enough of why Prudence would go so quickly from wanting to kill Ester’s cousin to agreeing to advocate for him. Her change literally happens in the span of 2-3 lines, and there’s no real reason shoring up her behavior unless it’s simply that allegiance to your people and the need to fight together against your oppressors should overcome everything else, even love and justice. I mean it sounds right, difficult but right, but her change of heart happened so unexpectedly that it took me out of the play’s universe for a minute.
I also expected some slight recognition that the church maybe wasn’t the answer to everything. Ester’s actions at the end were shocking and awful, but the awfulness of them seemed to be brushed aside with her request for forgiveness from Jesus and from her spiritual leader, Chilford. I get that forgiveness is like Real Big in Christianity but I don’t think it should just be given away as a matter of procedure. It should be earned or deserved. And maybe in this situation, there’s nothing to be gained from having Chilford hold out on doling it out when it’s not his to give, and when it’s not deserved. However, the impression that she actually was forgiven bothered me. I guess Jesus will have the last say and everything but I really wanted to look around at the audience and just reassure myself by getting everyone to agree that what she did was wrong, right, y’all know that was wrong? I just wanted to be sure.
Apart from my feeling that there was a lack of apparent motivations, overall it was a compelling look into identity amid adversity and trauma. I’m still thinking about how I feel about certain aspects of it, which is the sign of a successful work. And despite my qualms, it’s definitely a worthwhile show, especially this production. The acting was mostly great, and I really liked how they made use of the in-the-round setting. It added tension to be so close to this distress, and it made everything more urgent and wrenching, adding layers of emotion to this show. Most of all, it was a showcase for Wright, who is a welcome addition to the London stage and will surely be considered one of the greats of her generation in no time.
Well that’s enough raving about the playwright and the star considering I thought this play, written in 2012, was just okay. I know, plot twist. The Convert takes place in 1895 in a village in Africa that is in the midst of being colonized by Bad White People. A young girl named Jekesai (Wright) escapes from an arranged marriage with the help of her aunt (Pamela Nomvete), who works for a prominent black man named Chilford (Paapa Essiedu). Whereas Jekesai and her aunt come from a family of the native tribal people, Chilford is much more westernized. He wears suits in the sweltering heat, compared to their less modest, more weather appropriate clothes. He speaks the Queen’s English (different queen then, if you can imagine) while they speak an African tongue. Most important, he has found Jesus, and he’s even a pastor of some sort, set on converting as many ‘savages’ as he can away from their pagan traditions. He agrees to let Jekesai stay in his house if she changes her name to Ester and begins on a serious journey towards Christianity. What starts off rather humorously (Wright’s first attempt at crossing herself is hysterical) and lighthearted (her aunt getting confused by which name to call her niece) turns serious and rather grim as Jekesai fully accepts a new life as Ester and takes her new religion to its extreme. In her acceptance, she scorns nearly all of her past life, including family and traditions, in the name of Jesus. It’s not funny anymore when she blesses herself; it’s upsetting, because you want to remind her that things are more important than blind faith. Things like family, or a semblance of reason.
While Ester is becoming a superfriend to Big J and trying to convert her fair share of villagers, the native people are getting less and less pleased with the white colonizers taking over things. We hear of more and more problems between the groups, growing in severity and breadth. The angry villagers are no longer just targeting white people; they’re targeting black people who get too close, or act too much like, the white people. People like Chilford, and his friend Chancellor (these names) and his fiancée Prudence, similarly westernized but less tight with Jesus, at least in Chancellor’s case (he’s a bad man). Chancy, as they call him, wants a piece of Ester, and he doesn’t understand what she means by no, or what Jesus says about cheating on your fiancee. One problem I had with this show is that we’re supposed to feel something, probably, about what befalls Chancy, but I was like, okay, justice served.
So about that. Ester’s place in the middle of two worlds begins to take a toll on her, reaching its climax when her uncle and cousin, big on the whole ‘kill whoever is white or acting white’ thing, break into Chilford’s home when she is there with Chancy. The encounter escalates into violence, whether accidental or not, and Ester’s deciding whether to protect her relatives or not in the face of the law builds in a way you can’t see coming.
Although the story is interesting, I didn’t get enough about the why of it all, why the characters were acting like this, why Ester would so fully commit to her conversion and take it beyond what was expected and then why she would react so terribly to the climactic events. I didn’t get enough of why Prudence would go so quickly from wanting to kill Ester’s cousin to agreeing to advocate for him. Her change literally happens in the span of 2-3 lines, and there’s no real reason shoring up her behavior unless it’s simply that allegiance to your people and the need to fight together against your oppressors should overcome everything else, even love and justice. I mean it sounds right, difficult but right, but her change of heart happened so unexpectedly that it took me out of the play’s universe for a minute.
I also expected some slight recognition that the church maybe wasn’t the answer to everything. Ester’s actions at the end were shocking and awful, but the awfulness of them seemed to be brushed aside with her request for forgiveness from Jesus and from her spiritual leader, Chilford. I get that forgiveness is like Real Big in Christianity but I don’t think it should just be given away as a matter of procedure. It should be earned or deserved. And maybe in this situation, there’s nothing to be gained from having Chilford hold out on doling it out when it’s not his to give, and when it’s not deserved. However, the impression that she actually was forgiven bothered me. I guess Jesus will have the last say and everything but I really wanted to look around at the audience and just reassure myself by getting everyone to agree that what she did was wrong, right, y’all know that was wrong? I just wanted to be sure.
Apart from my feeling that there was a lack of apparent motivations, overall it was a compelling look into identity amid adversity and trauma. I’m still thinking about how I feel about certain aspects of it, which is the sign of a successful work. And despite my qualms, it’s definitely a worthwhile show, especially this production. The acting was mostly great, and I really liked how they made use of the in-the-round setting. It added tension to be so close to this distress, and it made everything more urgent and wrenching, adding layers of emotion to this show. Most of all, it was a showcase for Wright, who is a welcome addition to the London stage and will surely be considered one of the greats of her generation in no time.
2 Comments
Ok so I saw a headline about how this show is rlly rlly good but before I believed it I went here to see what you said first 😂
IT IS SO GOOD!