"Challenge Accepted": Vegan Chocolate Rugelach (Ohh Yeahhh)by Randi / November 5, 2013
Steve Kazee, from the Original Broadway Cast
Many new project announcements for Broadway shows make me raise my eyebrows in doubt or surprise. No project has ever made me angry, expect when I heard that “Once”, one of my favorite movies about the music of one of my favorite bands, was getting the musical treatment. I felt personal attachment and ownership over the material, as I often do, but this time I had no hope that a stage show could capture the personal feel and beauty of the movie. I of course was wrong, because Once: The Musical is so incredibly lovely and pure. Some aspects are improved in the stage show, and the various added characters round out a superb experience of the power of beautiful music.
I was lucky to see the original production on Broadway, with Tony-winner Steve Kazee and (the Mother on “HIMYM”) Cristin Milioti. Within a few minutes, I felt with my entire being that this was a magical experience. I’m so relieved that the first national tour, which recently played Philadelphia’s Academy of Music, is equally enthralling. If you have the chance to catch the tour, go see it. Even though the space is huge, the perfectly directed show still achieves the required level of intimacy. And the wonderful tour cast fully sells every aspect of the difficult show.
I was lucky to see the original production on Broadway, with Tony-winner Steve Kazee and (the Mother on “HIMYM”) Cristin Milioti. Within a few minutes, I felt with my entire being that this was a magical experience. I’m so relieved that the first national tour, which recently played Philadelphia’s Academy of Music, is equally enthralling. If you have the chance to catch the tour, go see it. Even though the space is huge, the perfectly directed show still achieves the required level of intimacy. And the wonderful tour cast fully sells every aspect of the difficult show.
Stuart Ward, ‘Guy’ on the national tour
I say it’s a difficult show because we’ve all come to expect everything in this world, from art to politics to personal relationships, to be covered with a protective layer of cynicism, or bitterness, or at least some of kind of edge. “Once” has absolutely no edge. It has no artifice. It is a simple show presenting insanely gorgeous music for its own sake, and showing how the music affects people it touches. It’s a bold and brave move to not couch its message in anything at all but instead to nakedly display it, leaving it vulnerable to attacks of being too twee. I think a lot of the people who think the show twee or corny feel uncomfortable in dealing with such pure emotion straight on, because we’re rarely asked to do that.
The show takes place in Dublin, mainly in a bar where the area musicians meet to share their music. (Every cast member plays an instrument; they are the orchestra.) One of the best parts is that, as on Broadway, the bar set features an actual working bar, and audience members can go on stage and buy a drink before the show and during intermission. During the pre-show section, the entire cast is onstage, playing their music and encouraging each other to join in. It’s a fantastic way to highlight the talent of the cast members who don’t get solos during the actual show. This set up also allows for one of the most magical ways to open a show I’ve ever seen: As the music continues and the audience members slowly get ushered off the stage, Guy, our unnamed hero, starts playing his first song. The lights fully dim during this song, “Leave”, one of Glen Hansard’s many powerful, heart-breaking songs, and before you know it the show has officially started. It’s pretty fantastic (as long as the people around you know to shut up even though the lights are on…seriously people.)
Girl, our Czech heroine who is even more honest and open than the show, hears Guy’s song and knows that he has something special. She pushes him to keep playing even though his broken heart wants him to quit, and her faith in him brings new depth to his music. It’s one of the most romantic relationships ever, with a couple that doesn’t end up together or ever even kiss. It’s all about the music. And it’s amazing.
The Girl is a really complex role. She has to be so optimistic that she verges on chipper, and so honest and open that it veers into cartoony. The actress playing her has to keep her from getting too cartoony while also showing her maturity and intelligence. Cristin Milioti did this perfectly, somehow. The Girl on tour does a respectable job. Some of her early lines (the funniest ones) in Act I got a little hammy, but in the more serious Act II scenes, she was great. Although it’s still a bit strange to hear the unnamed Guy sing a lot of the songs, instead of the wondrous Glen Hansard, the tour’s Guy was very likable and demonstrated emotion well. However, a lot of his lyrics were swallowed. Surprisingly, one of my favorite characters on tour was Andrej, one of Girl’s roommates, whom I don’t even remember from Broadway. He has few lines and a tiny substory of about 30 seconds, but it was heartbreaking on tour. It shows what a good actor can do with very little.
My absolute favorite part of the stage show is funnily enough my least favorite part of the movie. The song “Gold”, by the Irish band Interference is sung in the movie during a ‘Sing for your supper’ kind of dinner party. In the show, Guy sings it at an open mic night at the bar, to a very cynical crowd (when he says “This is a song…that I wrote” everyone groans; it’s pretty great). But soon, every single person at the bar picks up an instrument and joins in, completely moved by his music and almost without realizing it. Here’s the cast performing it at the Tony Awards. The stomp is my favorite part of the entire show, seriously. (They changed the intro for the Tonys, so you’ll have to see the show for the hilarious lines.)
Girl, our Czech heroine who is even more honest and open than the show, hears Guy’s song and knows that he has something special. She pushes him to keep playing even though his broken heart wants him to quit, and her faith in him brings new depth to his music. It’s one of the most romantic relationships ever, with a couple that doesn’t end up together or ever even kiss. It’s all about the music. And it’s amazing.
The Girl is a really complex role. She has to be so optimistic that she verges on chipper, and so honest and open that it veers into cartoony. The actress playing her has to keep her from getting too cartoony while also showing her maturity and intelligence. Cristin Milioti did this perfectly, somehow. The Girl on tour does a respectable job. Some of her early lines (the funniest ones) in Act I got a little hammy, but in the more serious Act II scenes, she was great. Although it’s still a bit strange to hear the unnamed Guy sing a lot of the songs, instead of the wondrous Glen Hansard, the tour’s Guy was very likable and demonstrated emotion well. However, a lot of his lyrics were swallowed. Surprisingly, one of my favorite characters on tour was Andrej, one of Girl’s roommates, whom I don’t even remember from Broadway. He has few lines and a tiny substory of about 30 seconds, but it was heartbreaking on tour. It shows what a good actor can do with very little.
My absolute favorite part of the stage show is funnily enough my least favorite part of the movie. The song “Gold”, by the Irish band Interference is sung in the movie during a ‘Sing for your supper’ kind of dinner party. In the show, Guy sings it at an open mic night at the bar, to a very cynical crowd (when he says “This is a song…that I wrote” everyone groans; it’s pretty great). But soon, every single person at the bar picks up an instrument and joins in, completely moved by his music and almost without realizing it. Here’s the cast performing it at the Tony Awards. The stomp is my favorite part of the entire show, seriously. (They changed the intro for the Tonys, so you’ll have to see the show for the hilarious lines.)
I’m glad to report that the choreography is the pretty similar on the tour. However, in other parts of the show, the choppy, modern choreography is a little less “Spring Awakening” and a little more “Hail Hitler”, with strange jerky arm movements and awkward steps. It’s interesting on the whole, how the movements reflect the characters’ awkward and new emotions, but sometimes it’s just too awkward.
Overall, “Once” is really a magical show. There are a few new songs that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova wrote for the show, like the wonderfully sad but soothing “Sleeping”, but they replace some favorites like “Lies”, “All The Way Down”, and “Once”. But the choices are smart, and the book, though different from the movie, has all the necessary charm and intelligence to successfully translate this small but powerful story to the stage. I’m so happy to have been wrong about this show.
Overall, “Once” is really a magical show. There are a few new songs that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova wrote for the show, like the wonderfully sad but soothing “Sleeping”, but they replace some favorites like “Lies”, “All The Way Down”, and “Once”. But the choices are smart, and the book, though different from the movie, has all the necessary charm and intelligence to successfully translate this small but powerful story to the stage. I’m so happy to have been wrong about this show.
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We Return to Live Theatre! ‘Adventures with the Painted People’ at Pitlochry Festival Theatre
PEOPLE! Can you believe it? For the first time since March 14, 2020, when we saw Uncle Vanya in the West End and the guy behind me coughed a bunch and we realized ‘oh this is bad’ (the spectre of disease, not the play; the play was incredible) (and then I had covid – was it from him? we’ll never know (just kidding I know it was you asshole)), we were back at a LIVE FORKING SHOW in person in a theatre! Well not ‘in’ – our first show back wisely took place in an outdoor amphitheatre; we’re not crazy! Gimme that wind if I’m around other people! But wow, can you imagine how excited I am? I LOVE THE THEE UH TUHHH.
I wonder if the excitement of being back would have made me enjoy even a bad play, but we will never know because Official Return Show was quite an impressive little treat. ‘Adventures with the Painted People’, by David Greig, is a four-hander (you remember how I changed the terms to make them accurate?) that tells of a Roman officer named Lucius who gets kidnapped by Picts. It’s 2000 years ago and Romans have taken over, killed all the good Pictish men, ruined everything as invaders do for native peoples. When a group of Pictish boys find the stray Roman by the water, they knock him out and bring him to their tribe’s witch, Eithne, to be a sacrifice, naturally.
For someone being tied up in a witch’s ‘house of the dead’ which is really a cave of the dead which is much worse, Lucius never seems too angry or upset. Nicholas Karimi’s portrayal is really likeable, and you’re like aw I hope he doesn’t get sacrificed. He writes insubstantial poetry, but you can tell he feels more dreamy than the rigidity of a Roman officer’s life would normally allow. And that makes for a good pairing with Kirsty Stuart’s Eithne, the Pictish version of a manic pixie dream girl if ever there was one. (Manic pictish dream girl OH MY GOD.) She’s full of energy and conversations with spirits and flowery language, compared to the Roman’s straight lines. And yet, as she tells her captive, she wants his help to become Roman, so that she can implore the governor to work with her to implement peace instead of continued violence on her people. Maybe if he helps her, she won’t sacrifice him. Also if there’s a good pig she won’t need to.
In this early-AD Odd Couple, Eithne, witch of the salmon people who only tell stories by fire pit, learns how to read and write, learns about world history, learns about Roman life and laws. Lucius learns about the Pictish people, those that his mission has been to quash, and decides to write about this woman and her life. They both warm to each other. Over the weeks they study together in this cave, they become friends, and then they start to fall in love, obvs.
A love story between these two stark contrasts – one of straight lines, one of nature and spirits; one of the invaders vs. one of the oppressed natives – could easily have been as trite and schmaltzy (and annoying) as other attempts at heartfelt stories between colonizer and victim usually are. Although I feared that the final scene would be a bit like the U.S.-only ending of the 2005 Pride & Prejudice – which is superior, but too romantic for Brits apparently – this play managed to avoid all potential traps due to its strong writing delivering on a well-formed idea of what it wanted to accomplish. It did so with humor, great performances, and solid direction from Elizabeth Newman. I really enjoyed the set design and staging (I can’t find if Lizzie or someone else is responsible for the design), especially the circle of fire (erma erma) and the gorgeously done mosaic reveal (LOVED). The only thing I didn’t enjoy was that the little fire pit onstage blew all its smoke right in my face for a good hour as it died out, like no matter what the wind brought it right into my face, the face of the person in that audience who tolerates smoke the worst. My eyes are still burning two days later (they are like pumice, it’s not great). But that’s just me I’m weird. (See seating info below.)
Between the otherwise fresh air in Pitlochry and the lack of a stranger sitting right next to me (keep this up forever, maybe?), this returnship was about as nice as I could have hoped. Sure I got so nauseous on the winding Napoli-coastline-style drive that we had to stop so I could [redacted], but still, what a night. I highly recommend this show.
INFORMATION
The outdoor amphitheatre is up a windy hill, and although the main building and parking lot is a construction zone at present, the climb up and the amphi’s setting is beyond gorgeous. I need to talk to whoever is in charge of their gardening because um I need your help. Although the setting is lovely, the walk may be difficult for those who are less ambulatory.
Because the main building’s under construction and the shows are happening in this relatively small outdoor area at the top of a freaking hill, that means the toilets are unavailable. There is a portapotty up on the hill – one, for everyone. Luckily it never got too crowded (do Scottish people not pee??) but I was less than thrilled about having to use a porto three times (three is the bare minimum for me at the theatre, what fun I have). It was clean and whatever but I dreamt longingly of the endless immaculate newly refurbished stalls of Broadway’s Lyric Theatre, oh those were the days. Oh there are two bar setups up there as well. Nothing more UK than two spacious bar setups with like four staff members, but one toilet.
You have to wear masks everywhere except when you are seated, which seems a bit nonsensical since that’s when you are closest to other people and not walking around an incredibly spacious garden setting. That should really be rethought. Groups are sat so there’s a good few feet between them on each row, but it doesn’t stagger from row to row, meaning you have someone right behind and right in front of you. I guess that’s smarter than being surrounded on all diagonals? but because of it I wish they didn’t actively tell people they could take their masks off once seated.
The seating is open plan; an usher will seat you as you arrive. They sat us on the far aisle from where you enter, second row, so don’t sit there if you hate smoke. Although that was probably a unique occurrence from the universe just to fork with me so you’ll be fine.
‘Adventures of the Painted People’ plays at the Pitlochry Festival Theatre (in Perthshire, the most beautiful part of Scotland), until July 4, when I assume the closing performance will be marked with nonstop fireworks from your shitty neighbors. Just kidding, not in Scotland baby!
Fiddler on the Roof at the Menier Chocolate Factory: As Moving and Important as Ever
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Fiddler on the Roof, playing at London’s Menier Chocolate Factory until March 9.
Even though I have known Fiddler on the Roof by heart my entire life (I think Jews are born knowing it (jk I was also in it once upon a time)), I am always surprised at how great a show it is, every time I see it. When a bit of time passes in between viewings – like now, since the last time I saw a production was the 2016 Broadway production with Danny Burstein (entirely perfection) – I’ll recall how special a show it is to me personally but forget a little bit that it is a masterpiece simply as written. And then the show starts, and it is just nonstop onslaught of perfection: fantastic song after fantastic song, utterly hilarious lines, heartbreaking emotional depth. After seeing another fabulous production of this sweeping epic show, I can’t imagine ever letting Fiddler slip from the forefront of my mind again when I think of exceptional musicals in the entire canon. London’s Menier Chocolate Factory virtually always produces top-notch productions, and its Fiddler continues the trend.
In a rather small, cramped room, the audience gets as close to the action as possible, feeling dropped into Anatevka with Tevye, his wife Golde, and their five daughters, along with all the delightful townspeople. This small space (which gets overheated fast, btw, like a real schvitz) instantly provides a different experience from other productions: with everyone on the same level, with just the floor in the middle as the stage, it’s more intimate than any big theatre with a traditional proscenium can achieve. I’m curious to see how this will change when it transfers to the West End; I hope they retain some aspects of this intimacy.
The set design uses the space wonderfully, with the small wooden houses and their pointed roofs against the one side of the room without audience rows, and the cast coming in and out of the same entrance that the audience used, passing right by my aisle seat (obviously nearest this exit; it’s a long-ass show) so close that I had to lean away several times to avoid being hit with chairs and luggage and whatever else they were carrying out. I highly recommend sitting by this door (my perfect seat was C35), because it lets you witness without a doubt my favorite aspect of this production, differentiating it from all others: the cast would continue their conversations as they exited the stage/theatre, fully in character and saying remarkable (or completely banal, but the fact that I was hearing their extra conversations made everything about it remarkable) things to each other that only I and a handful of others similarly placed could hear. That they continuously went to so much extra effort to convincingly inhabit their characters for so few people filled me with so much joy. When anyone talks to me this season about getting rid of t-shirts that no longer bring them joy I’m like, if you didn’t sit by the door in Fiddler, you don’t know squat about what brings joy, also just clean your house more.
This production stars Andy Nyman as Tevye, who was amazing as Charles Guiteau in the Menier’s Assassins a few years ago. His Tevye is sarcastic and cynical, which helps his humor come across. In his first big song, “If I Were A Rich Man”, he tries to make this overdone classic his own, with the daba deeba deeba da’s instead becoming grunts of pain as he rubs his strained forearms. I appreciated this change, not only because I do the same thing after I use battle ropes, but because it is hard to make any aspect of Tevye different after so many years and so many incarnations. I didn’t love the ugh oohs instead of the daba deebas but I loved that they tried something different. Being so close to Tevye in his moments of internal soliloquy made his impossible struggle to do right by his daughters and by his religion’s traditions more understandable than ever. His precarious perch between the paths he can choose, which he compares to that of a fiddler on the roof (you knew why it was called that, right?) is conveyed with such emotional depth. Even when he makes decisions you think are wrong, it’s difficult to really say that he’s wrong when you know how impossible his position seems to him.
The three main daughters (sorry Bielke and Spritze, but you will get your Susan B. Anthony in the annals of history when I eventually name two small dogs after you) were all a pleasant surprise. I was distracted for the entire first half because I would have bet my life that Chava (Kirsty MacLaren) was played by the actress who played Tanna on Gilmore Girls, but alas, it was not, so it’s a good thing no one took that bet. Along with Molly Osbourne’s Tzeitel and Harriet Bunton’s Hodel, all three daughters were wonderful. Even though Tzeitel seems like the main one, she doesn’t actually get much to do after “Matchmaker”, yet she made her mark. Bunton’s “Far From the Home I Love” was beautiful. Their male counterparts were great too, so great that Husbo and I decided that one of our future dogs will also be named The Tailor Motel Kamzoil (yes, in full). I have to give Stewart Clarke props for opening Act II with one of the worst songs in the musical theatre, let alone one given the crucial role of opening a second act. “Now I Have Everything” is like the even more awkward version of the end of Javert’s “Soliloquy” you know when it sounds like he hits the wrong note at the end, before it resolves? but for an entire song. That’s “Now I Have Everything”. It’s honestly mean to make actors sing this song, but Clarke’s Perchik did as great a job as is possible.
One of the best parts of knowing a show so well is being able to appreciate the tiny things they do differently. Considering how many productions of Fiddler I’ve seen, I can’t believe this was the first to have the mamas, in their verse in “Tradition”, actually whisper when they sing “a quiet home” (as in “who must know the way to make a proper home, a quiet home, a kosher home”). It’s so obvious! How has no one done that? It was adorable. Also the sons’ verse made me laugh harder than ever when they end their intro with “I hear they’ve picked a bride for me, I hope…(super long pause)…she’s pretty.” It’s such a bad line and so awkward but I LOVE IT.
In the whole three hours, there were only a few drawbacks. With a rather small company and tiny space, “L’Chaim” didn’t have the verve it usually has. While still great, it wasn’t a showstopper with its usual energy. On the other hand (as Tevye would say), this size and space let the wedding scene feel more present and real. “Chavaleh” was insanely heartbreaking because it’s impossible for it not to be, but Chava wasn’t onstage during it, so Tevye was just singing to himself. I’ve been destroyed by productions that have decided to have Chava dancing during the song, as an apparition of Tevye’s memory. I mean it was nice to just cry and not screamcry for a change, but there’s a small missed opportunity there. My only other issue was with Yente. Oy. Yente is hilarious as written (like so much of the show, surprising every time), so it’s hard to mess her up and easy to make her even funnier with a strong comic actress. This Yente was not a strong comic actress. There’s so much potential handed on a silver platter and she didn’t do anything with it. To quote Ross, “it took her what, like, what, uh, I don’t know, ahh, ughh, a WEEK? to get out a sentence?” “Yeah it’s annoying, isn’t it.”
But otherwise everything was wonderful and a powerful reminder, as always, that it’s still sadly relevant for us today. At the end, when the inhabitants of Anatevka march out of the town and out of the theatre, they had them secretly circle back through one of the houses so it made it seem like an endless trek of people. It was an effective way to get me even angrier at anyone who supports a government that turns away refugees. I was looking around at that audience through my tears and thinking ‘any of you who are crying and applauding who also voted for Brexit or harsher immigration laws are utter jackwagons.’ What can I say, no one was on their phone so I had unused anger at the ready. Anyway, Harnick and Bock are absolute geniuses and I love their damn show so forking much.
INFORMATION
The show runs 3 hours, always. Some productions are technically 2 hours 55 minutes, some are 3 and 5, it’s all roughly 3 hours and so is this one. I didn’t realize that when I was in it in high school so like all those parents watching their kids do 5 shows in a weekend really deserve medals. At least our Tevye was amazing; I cannot imagine what it is like to see a scrawny little white waspy tween whose voice hasn’t settled yet play Tevye like they have at so many other schools.
It was recently announced that this production will be transferring to the West End, giving you plenty of time to see it. Mazel!
