"Beautiful: The Carole King Musical" Lives Up To Its Name, & Then Someby Randi / April 2, 2014
Like most people, I would pay crazy amounts of money to see those fine two knights, Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen, just talk to each other and be adorable, as they are. I’d be happy pay to hear them go over their grocery lists with each other. I’d be happy to see them perform nonsense that I don’t really understand or even like. So I guess you can say I’m happy, because I saw them perform nonsense that I didn’t really understand or even like.
The Two Sirs recently delighted Broadway audiences by performing together in Samuel Beckett’s “Waiting For Godot” and Harold Pinter’s “No Man’s Land” in repertory. Performing shows in repertory seemed to be a hot trend this season (with the amazing Shakespeare’s Globe productions of “Richard III” and “Twelfth Night”). And the chance to see the Two Sirs, the cutest old-man-BFFs ever to exist, onstage together was too good to pass up. But “No Man’s Land” is legit the strangest play.
The Two Sirs recently delighted Broadway audiences by performing together in Samuel Beckett’s “Waiting For Godot” and Harold Pinter’s “No Man’s Land” in repertory. Performing shows in repertory seemed to be a hot trend this season (with the amazing Shakespeare’s Globe productions of “Richard III” and “Twelfth Night”). And the chance to see the Two Sirs, the cutest old-man-BFFs ever to exist, onstage together was too good to pass up. But “No Man’s Land” is legit the strangest play.
I think that no matter how hard I try I just am not a Pinter fan. (If you want to persuade me otherwise, please feel free to make suggestions and/or offer critical analyses to assist in my literary edification.) “No Man’s Land” opens with McKellen, seemingly a rambunctious, slightly offputting sort-of-scallywag of an Englishman, in the well-appointed (or we are meant to think it’s nice, but the set is sparse) home of Patrick Stewart’s character, a wealthier man who says very little and seems kind of out of it before he gets reeeally out of it and starts falling and crawling. For the first oh, twenty minutes, the two men pretty much just drink, toast to each others’ health, sit in silence, then drink more after more toasts.
When they did actually say words, I had trouble understanding what they were saying (was is the pretend drunkenness or the terrible acoustics?), so when Billy Crudup and Schuyler Hensley entered as Stewart’s henchmen/assistants, I was excited. But then poor Billy opened his mouth. I don’t know what kind of ‘English’ accent he was doing, but it sounded like the dog from ‘Up’ with the broken voice collar after having done crystal meth in Courtney Love’s bathroom and then drinking lemon juice. Like what in the everlasting tuck. How did the director, or anyone on set before opening night, fail to address the issue of this accent? It threw me off at first, but then it just pissed me off. Billy is so much better than that.
So Ian and Pat were drinking, acting aloof, saying random ass things to each other, and Billy and Schuyler were alternating between hospitably tending to the guest and threatening to beat him and throw him out. There was little to no pattern evident in the attitude changes. But then in the second act, Pat opened up and shared his life story, and we learn that these two characters are not strangers as it appeared in the first act. No, they went to school together, had the same group of friends, and Pat even had an affair with Ian’s wife, which he was not in the least bit ashamed of talking freely about. It was totally awk. And then Pat talked about how he was all afraid of this dream he has where he’s by the lake or something and that place he nightmares about is his no man’s land or some weird shit like that. I was just worried the whole time that someone was going to beat up Ian McKellen and he would actually get hurt because he’s old but no one would realize that he wasn’t faking his injuries.
The second act’s change in dynamics didn’t really help move the story. There really wasn’t a story. In fact, I could not tell you want the show was about, more than I have above, even for a million dollars. I mean it’s more about the existential dwellings and commiserations and reminiscences about the two old men who once upon a time were acquaintances. It’s not really about things happening.
The one thing that struck me was that it was just like the Bunuel movie mentioned in “Midnight in Paris” where the characters are unable to leave the room, no matter how much they want to. I love how in “Midnight”, Bunuel himself is like “That’s the worst idea for a movie ever; why couldn’t they just leave? Why couldn’t they just leave!!!” So that’s what Ian’s role and the play in general made me think of. I was ready to scream after 4 minutes in, “Ian! My dear! Why don’t you just leeeave!!! Ian! Go! Get out of there!” But frustratingly not only does he not leave, he ends up begging to stay indefinitely! INDEFINITELY. Whaaat kind of masochist! Oh Pinter. I just don’t get you!
Despite my complaints, this production was amazing. Why? Because I got to see Stewart and McKellen on stage together, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. This show was worth seeing and paying full price five times over for, because this pairing will likely never happen again outside of X-Men movies. I would have loved spending a few hours in the Cort Theatre even if the Two Sirs just read the phone book. Which actually would have made more sense than this play. Oh Pinter. Someone explain him to me.
Related Posts
Audra McDonald in “Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar & Grill”: A Once In A Lifetime Performance
The minute the unmatched Audra McDonald opens her mouth onstage, you are transported back 50 years. You’re no longer watching the greatest living musical talent of our time but the great pioneering musician of the past, Billie Holiday. You’re in Emerson’s Bar & Grill, one of Billie’s favorite places to perform in Philadelphia, recreated on Broadway in an intimate space in the Circle in the Square theatre. And everyone around is gasping.
This isn’t an imitation happening onstage, but a full transformation and embodiment of Lady Day, from the mannerisms to the stance to the way she moves her eyes. It’s magic happening in front of you as Audra channels Billie Holiday. Seriously, everyone was gasping and pretty much didn’t stop (at least the people next to me didn’t stop, despite my repeatedly throwing shade).
This isn’t an imitation happening onstage, but a full transformation and embodiment of Lady Day, from the mannerisms to the stance to the way she moves her eyes. It’s magic happening in front of you as Audra channels Billie Holiday. Seriously, everyone was gasping and pretty much didn’t stop (at least the people next to me didn’t stop, despite my repeatedly throwing shade).
Holy bald head Batman
If you’re a fan of Holiday (“Do you like Billie Holiday?” “I love him”), this show will astound you and leave you breathless. But even if you are unfamiliar with her wonderful catalogue (including such gems as “What A Little Moonlight Can Do”, “When A Woman Loves A Man”, “Tain’t Nobody’s Biz-ness”, and of course the unmatched and haunting “God Bless The Child” and “Strange Fruit”, all of which are performed to perfection here), you will leave the show wanting to become a Billie Holiday fan.
In between the many songs, which are so astonishing it’s like you could say you actually saw Billie Holiday in concert, Audra tells her concert audience (“my friends”, she calls us) little stories that illustrate her life. This is where the real magic happens, and this is where Audra wins her sixth Tony. Some stories are hilarious yet they all express the untold heartache she has had to experience. She speaks and stumbles and falls and it’s Billie Holiday. She drinks, smokes, walks through the table seating, wanders offstage for several minutes to retrieve her dog, who’s her best friend. She holds back tears, and the audience does too. It’s all Billie.
The stories she tells come up organically between songs and are perfect glimpses into Billie’s turbulent life. She looks back at her backup musicians and drifts off in thought about her old love, a musician who was a drug addict (she says “herwan” and it’s adorable). She tells how the man would say to her, “If you really loved me you’d try it too,” and despite her protests, he kept at it, making her feel unnecessarily guilty and terrible until she couldn’t argue anymore. Her stories are full of people she thought she loved weakening her and manipulating her until they hurt her and took advantage of her. Yet she was still strong. And despite Audra’s hunched posture, wild eyes, and frightening imbalance, she successfully conveyed this inner strength.
The stories about her mother were the most heartbreaking parts. Everyone called her tiny mother “The Duchess”, and Billie makes lots of jokes about how little the Duchess was and how big she herself was. The Duchess had Billie as a very young teenager and put her to work early in various kinds of houses they stayed in. Billie recounts ‘the first time’ she was raped as a young child in one of these houses, told in a tone so casual it showed how accustomed to trauma and tragedy she had become.
One of the most repeated thoughts she shares is that she always wanted a nice house and children, and how much she loved children. She never had any, or had any stability in her life. The beauty of the performance helps to balance just how sad everything is. It’s really a fool’s errand to try to describe how wonderful this show is. If you can get to New York before it closes in August, you absolutely must see this performance of a lifetime. If you can’t, watch the clip below. (Don’t watch it if there’s any chance you can see the show. You don’t want to be spoiled.)
And if somehow you’ve lived under a rock until today and you have never heard the magic that is Audra McDonald’s singing and you think the “Lady Day” producers just found a woman who sounded like Billie Holiday, here’s a video of her actual voice.
“Oppenheimer”: Decent But Unedited New London Play
The story of the American scientist who created the atomic bomb sounds like it could be either interesting or boring. The new London show achieves both. The first act is well done and pretty compelling, but the second act had seven end points and needs hella cutting. Still, it’s an interesting story that’s worth seeing – especially if they fix it before the next production.
We begin in Oppy’s (as his “friends” call him) house as his (repeatedly described non-monogamous) girlfriend hosts a drunken neurotic fundraiser for ‘the Spanish crisis’ in the early stages of World War II. Her agitated uneasy speeches show us 1) they’re all proud Communists and b) she, Jean, is quite mentally unstable. I wouldn’t want to be friends with these people. All pretentious in their highly educated status, showing how caring and cultured they are by getting drunk and dancing all night in the name of supporting the less fortunate who are being tortured, starved, and killed. It struck me as an ugly scene but extremely illustrative of this group of middle class people. I was told that Oppenheimer was famously hard to get along with, but instead of showing us that, we see that compared to his social circle he was the lovable puppy in the crowd, at least at the beginning. So that was a curious creative choice.
This whole show is pretty much questionable creative choices, actually. Considering how curious a choice of subject matter this wholly American story is for a small British production to begin with, every decision thereafter seemed rushed or at least ill-advised. The frequent little science lessons were the most effective and entertaining parts of the show, kind of like how the best part of “The Big Bang Theory” is any actual science you learn amid the drivel. As far as I could tell, the mini lectures and the discussion-based lessons Oppy’s protégés gave us were accurate. Then again I wouldn’t really know. I mean they were talking about the science behind the atom bomb. If you really understood it you would have been there. When they talked about science, the play was at its most natural and interesting. Then again I liked school. We learn about atom composition, atom splitting, all kinds of things. Through these lessons and science-focused conversations, we learn with them that Germans split the atom, letting loose a whole bunch of crap and energy. Our Murkan scientists freak the f out, as you do, and realized holy crap, this could lead to enormous explosions to end all explosions, possibly igniting the earth’s atmosphere, or destroying the earth, or at least countries! Then they realized, holy crap, we really need to get ahead of the Germans on this so we win the war. That was at least one of the accurate points, that they were always racing to get ahead of the Germans, whom we assumed were indeed ahead of us, when in fact they knew pretty much nothing the whole time.
Things pick up from here, as Oppy gathers the finest minds in science (or at least northern California), then the military takes over as it does, and the whole shebang becomes the super secret Manhattan Project.
The military’s involvement/control is obviously a mixed blessing. They get resources, power, land, and uranium, but also lots of bullshit and awfulness. Any red-leaning brains (everyone we met in the beginning) get shipped off to war or to Alaska because Murka was awful afear’d back then of people who may have thought differently. The interference with (or, often, hindrance of) science in the name of democracy is an extremely frustrating and terrifying thing that the military enjoyed doing. Good thing the government lets science be now!
As more progress is made on the bomb, Oppy becomes more and more of a righteous jackass, as the weight of what he’s doing weighs on him. Or doesn’t. We hear a lot of big speeches about how Oppy is lead and ytterbium and iron, stable at the core, and that he carries the responsibility without it breaking him. I guess it was supposed to be an ironic statement of stability? or disaffectedness? Because obviously it broke or at least injured him. But that wasn’t clear. It was more of a disconnect between words and actions than it was irony. Like unintentional disjunction. (I’m looking at you, Mr. Director.)
A lot is said about how Oppy was chosen to lead the project because the military could control or at least predict his behavior. As they wanted, he broke off contact with his commie brother for a long time, he turned friends in to the inquisitors, he shipped off some of his best students to war and refused to help them when they returned. He got real jerky like. I mean, if you were spending the prime of your life devoted to ending others’ lives, you’d prob go dark like Emma’s doing right now on “Once Upon A Time” (best show ever??). but the repeated thesis that he was unbreakable (they alive, dammit!) and resilient came across more incorrect than poignant.
At least Oppy was played by a decent actor, John Heffernan. I thought he was pretty good and then when I recognized him from the new BBC series “Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell” (which I was lucky enough to see a sneak preview of recently because I’m so important in the London entertainment scene) my thoughts were confirmed because only the best people are in that show. But there was a lot of not-so-decent acting on display here. I have issues with mainstem West End shows lately, so this (it’s like an off-West End production) had more. Everyone seemed a slight notch below where they should have been, especially with their American accents. Say your freaking r’s! And every time anyone said the word ‘sir’ but with another word coming after it, it became ‘suh’ and just ugh come on. Also no one could say ‘apparently’ without it getting super loose in the vowels when in American the vowels need to be constricted. I feel like dialect coaches are not valued anymore.
Everything just seemed a little jumbled, likely due to direction. Funnily enough, at the beginning, I despised Oppy’s girlfriend Jean and his friend’s wife Charlotte with the weird New England WASP country club/faux Katherine Hepburn accent. But by the end, these two actresses, Catherine Steadman and Sandy Foster, were my favorites. I don’t know if they got better with more meaty scenes, if I got nicer, or if it was just the power of comparison working in their favor.
One person I did not like was Oppy’s wife Kitty, played by Thomasin Rand. Maybe because that name is ludicrous, but I couldn’t get a handle on her. I don’t know if you’re supposed to hate her of if you’re supposed to feel bad for her because her husband is so preoccupied and she’s always (always) pregnant (and drinking to the point of alcoholism and smoking like a chimney throughout), but I didn’t. Or maybe her hatefulness comes from her husband’s stated lack of ability to connect or form real bonds and she’s like I left that foppish but super polite British guy for this? (And yes we see the very awkward courtship between Oppy and Kitty as they have an affair, get pregnant, and then ask said British guy for a divorce. He, by the way, had the funniest accent in the whole play, which was odd because he’s the only one who gets to be his real nationality. It was like an American doing an over-the-top British accent but the actor was really British, so I loved it. I hope it was on purpose.)
Or maybe it’s because her husband may have been in love with another woman the whole time. His earlier love, Jean, was clearly always special to him and their deep connection seemed to have persisted until her unfortunate suicide. She was unable to deal with her chemically unbalanced mind and the FBI agents tapping her phone and sitting outside her house all day and night because of her political views and ties to Oppy. It was all very upsetting and tragic. After her death, we get more reason to despise Oppy and Kitty as they agree that suicide is extremely self-centered and that Jean was super selfish for killing herself. At least they agreed on something? I wonder how accurate this portrayal was, because that’s a big black mark to paint on a person’s character. Do not like.
I wonder how accurate all of it was, actually. If all of Oppy’s contacts were under government surveillance for their political views, if the general in charge was really somehow everywhere all the time and in every important science discussion, if the captain on the project talked in an exaggerated American accent like he was just pulled from the set of “A Few Good Men”, if one of Oppy’s protégés apparently learned his American accent from the aforementioned “Big Bang Theory” (he sounded exactly like Sheldon and was my fave part). One of my favorite characters was Edward Teller, the Hungarian scientist who created the hydrogen bomb, or ‘super’. In the show, he was pushing Oppy to focus on the super during WW2, which seemed early but was apparently accurate, despite no real work being done on it until after the war. Ben Allen, the actor playing Teller, was pretty funny at times and made Teller one of the most sympathetic characters onstage, which I’m not sure was the intent given that Teller in real life was kind of a lunatic. So I’m told, I don’t know.
The first act had a lot of good learning and commies and New Mexico and more commies and excitement and stuff. The second act, hoo boy, it kind of fell apart in ways you could not imagine. First of all, at 1.5 hours each act, the play was way too long for what they did with the time. Do shows not have editors anymore? Act II could easily be 30-40 minutes shorter. Here’s what they should do: First, cut the kid. When we are supposed to assume they’ve dropped the first bomb, a child climbs out of the sunroof of the bomb, which is on stage, and he GIVES A MONOLOGUE. A kid that we have not met before, just this random punk kid with THE WORST American accent who has a few ridiculously pretentious paragraphs to recite about life and death and ephemerality maybe and who knows what and of course he messed up a line. He had literally one job. CUT THAT. It was nonsense and it brought the show to a screeching halt and not only added nothing but significantly detracted from the impact. I almost screamed for them to get the hook.
Next, cut the really freaky deaky and out of place bongo-drum circle and drug-induced drunken rave that followed the first test run of the bomb that occurred UNDER THE BOMB ACTING AS A DISCO BALL. I kid you not. I’m sure this wackadoo scene may have worked in some incarnation of this play, but it was not the one I saw. You can’t have a straight serious play and then throw in one super trippy conceptual scene for shits and giggles. It was completely weird with every character giving mini pretentious monologues about, well, life and death and ephemerality and who knows what while the rest of the cast was waving their arms in prayer to the gods of explosions in the fire and doing tribal chants like they were in a goddamn regional production of “Hair” while on acid. For like 10 minutes, sandwiched between serious science and black & white scenes, we uncomfortably watched this rave while the actors said lines like “The sun shone brightly like a diamond.” Well that might be Rhianna but you get my point. Omg.
Then, cut the next false ending of big grand speeches (yes there are more) that are terribly written and unnatural in Oppy and Bob’s classroom. I REALLY didn’t need to hear that bit about the horse Bob saw in Hiroshima after the bomb dropped. It was really graphic and disturbing but without the slightest need for it. I really didn’t appreciate that. So many sentences in this back half of Act II no one would ever say in real life, like overly wordy high school English essay kind of writing, when you think you sound smart but it actually makes you sound dumber.
I was thinking, such an important story should have been done better. But, then I thought, wait, is it such an important story? It is necessary to know the guy who built the atomic bomb and what not, but is this section of his life story necessary? Do we need to know he was kind of a jerk and had shitty friends and was a shitty friend and suffered a lot? And if so, why? His brilliant mind helped us do massacring of a newfangled variety, which the world is thankful for in a grotesque way, but was he necessary? Even his wife asks the general at some point why they didn’t pick Einstein or another great scientist who could have done it. The answer in this show is that the leader of this project needed this project to be his career highlight, and the other big name scientists already had other significant achievements in their careers. Cool. A more interesting story would have continued to the government’s turning on him after the war and their awful investigation into his political views, kind of like how the British government turned on Alan Turing after the war after he freaking saved their lives those ungrateful ignorant assholes. God knows in three hours would could have covered all of that. But we didn’t really get to it, probably because of all the unnecessary speechifying. So there were some really interesting choices made in this play. I’m not sure they worked, but despite all the weirdness it was still pretty good. I just wish they had hired an editor.
AUDIENCE: CONGRATULATIONS, Oppenheimer audience! This was the first time in many years that I did not see a cell phone being used during the show. I mean, that is pretty remarkable. However, there was this awful young couple behind me who talked the entire time. And I mean the entire time. I regret not saying something at intermission but I feared them cutting my hair during Act II or something. I did give them the good old death stare a few times though. I am proud of that.
Things pick up from here, as Oppy gathers the finest minds in science (or at least northern California), then the military takes over as it does, and the whole shebang becomes the super secret Manhattan Project.
The military’s involvement/control is obviously a mixed blessing. They get resources, power, land, and uranium, but also lots of bullshit and awfulness. Any red-leaning brains (everyone we met in the beginning) get shipped off to war or to Alaska because Murka was awful afear’d back then of people who may have thought differently. The interference with (or, often, hindrance of) science in the name of democracy is an extremely frustrating and terrifying thing that the military enjoyed doing. Good thing the government lets science be now!
As more progress is made on the bomb, Oppy becomes more and more of a righteous jackass, as the weight of what he’s doing weighs on him. Or doesn’t. We hear a lot of big speeches about how Oppy is lead and ytterbium and iron, stable at the core, and that he carries the responsibility without it breaking him. I guess it was supposed to be an ironic statement of stability? or disaffectedness? Because obviously it broke or at least injured him. But that wasn’t clear. It was more of a disconnect between words and actions than it was irony. Like unintentional disjunction. (I’m looking at you, Mr. Director.)
A lot is said about how Oppy was chosen to lead the project because the military could control or at least predict his behavior. As they wanted, he broke off contact with his commie brother for a long time, he turned friends in to the inquisitors, he shipped off some of his best students to war and refused to help them when they returned. He got real jerky like. I mean, if you were spending the prime of your life devoted to ending others’ lives, you’d prob go dark like Emma’s doing right now on “Once Upon A Time” (best show ever??). but the repeated thesis that he was unbreakable (they alive, dammit!) and resilient came across more incorrect than poignant.
At least Oppy was played by a decent actor, John Heffernan. I thought he was pretty good and then when I recognized him from the new BBC series “Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell” (which I was lucky enough to see a sneak preview of recently because I’m so important in the London entertainment scene) my thoughts were confirmed because only the best people are in that show. But there was a lot of not-so-decent acting on display here. I have issues with mainstem West End shows lately, so this (it’s like an off-West End production) had more. Everyone seemed a slight notch below where they should have been, especially with their American accents. Say your freaking r’s! And every time anyone said the word ‘sir’ but with another word coming after it, it became ‘suh’ and just ugh come on. Also no one could say ‘apparently’ without it getting super loose in the vowels when in American the vowels need to be constricted. I feel like dialect coaches are not valued anymore.
Everything just seemed a little jumbled, likely due to direction. Funnily enough, at the beginning, I despised Oppy’s girlfriend Jean and his friend’s wife Charlotte with the weird New England WASP country club/faux Katherine Hepburn accent. But by the end, these two actresses, Catherine Steadman and Sandy Foster, were my favorites. I don’t know if they got better with more meaty scenes, if I got nicer, or if it was just the power of comparison working in their favor.
One person I did not like was Oppy’s wife Kitty, played by Thomasin Rand. Maybe because that name is ludicrous, but I couldn’t get a handle on her. I don’t know if you’re supposed to hate her of if you’re supposed to feel bad for her because her husband is so preoccupied and she’s always (always) pregnant (and drinking to the point of alcoholism and smoking like a chimney throughout), but I didn’t. Or maybe her hatefulness comes from her husband’s stated lack of ability to connect or form real bonds and she’s like I left that foppish but super polite British guy for this? (And yes we see the very awkward courtship between Oppy and Kitty as they have an affair, get pregnant, and then ask said British guy for a divorce. He, by the way, had the funniest accent in the whole play, which was odd because he’s the only one who gets to be his real nationality. It was like an American doing an over-the-top British accent but the actor was really British, so I loved it. I hope it was on purpose.)
Or maybe it’s because her husband may have been in love with another woman the whole time. His earlier love, Jean, was clearly always special to him and their deep connection seemed to have persisted until her unfortunate suicide. She was unable to deal with her chemically unbalanced mind and the FBI agents tapping her phone and sitting outside her house all day and night because of her political views and ties to Oppy. It was all very upsetting and tragic. After her death, we get more reason to despise Oppy and Kitty as they agree that suicide is extremely self-centered and that Jean was super selfish for killing herself. At least they agreed on something? I wonder how accurate this portrayal was, because that’s a big black mark to paint on a person’s character. Do not like.
I wonder how accurate all of it was, actually. If all of Oppy’s contacts were under government surveillance for their political views, if the general in charge was really somehow everywhere all the time and in every important science discussion, if the captain on the project talked in an exaggerated American accent like he was just pulled from the set of “A Few Good Men”, if one of Oppy’s protégés apparently learned his American accent from the aforementioned “Big Bang Theory” (he sounded exactly like Sheldon and was my fave part). One of my favorite characters was Edward Teller, the Hungarian scientist who created the hydrogen bomb, or ‘super’. In the show, he was pushing Oppy to focus on the super during WW2, which seemed early but was apparently accurate, despite no real work being done on it until after the war. Ben Allen, the actor playing Teller, was pretty funny at times and made Teller one of the most sympathetic characters onstage, which I’m not sure was the intent given that Teller in real life was kind of a lunatic. So I’m told, I don’t know.
The first act had a lot of good learning and commies and New Mexico and more commies and excitement and stuff. The second act, hoo boy, it kind of fell apart in ways you could not imagine. First of all, at 1.5 hours each act, the play was way too long for what they did with the time. Do shows not have editors anymore? Act II could easily be 30-40 minutes shorter. Here’s what they should do: First, cut the kid. When we are supposed to assume they’ve dropped the first bomb, a child climbs out of the sunroof of the bomb, which is on stage, and he GIVES A MONOLOGUE. A kid that we have not met before, just this random punk kid with THE WORST American accent who has a few ridiculously pretentious paragraphs to recite about life and death and ephemerality maybe and who knows what and of course he messed up a line. He had literally one job. CUT THAT. It was nonsense and it brought the show to a screeching halt and not only added nothing but significantly detracted from the impact. I almost screamed for them to get the hook.
Next, cut the really freaky deaky and out of place bongo-drum circle and drug-induced drunken rave that followed the first test run of the bomb that occurred UNDER THE BOMB ACTING AS A DISCO BALL. I kid you not. I’m sure this wackadoo scene may have worked in some incarnation of this play, but it was not the one I saw. You can’t have a straight serious play and then throw in one super trippy conceptual scene for shits and giggles. It was completely weird with every character giving mini pretentious monologues about, well, life and death and ephemerality and who knows what while the rest of the cast was waving their arms in prayer to the gods of explosions in the fire and doing tribal chants like they were in a goddamn regional production of “Hair” while on acid. For like 10 minutes, sandwiched between serious science and black & white scenes, we uncomfortably watched this rave while the actors said lines like “The sun shone brightly like a diamond.” Well that might be Rhianna but you get my point. Omg.
Then, cut the next false ending of big grand speeches (yes there are more) that are terribly written and unnatural in Oppy and Bob’s classroom. I REALLY didn’t need to hear that bit about the horse Bob saw in Hiroshima after the bomb dropped. It was really graphic and disturbing but without the slightest need for it. I really didn’t appreciate that. So many sentences in this back half of Act II no one would ever say in real life, like overly wordy high school English essay kind of writing, when you think you sound smart but it actually makes you sound dumber.
I was thinking, such an important story should have been done better. But, then I thought, wait, is it such an important story? It is necessary to know the guy who built the atomic bomb and what not, but is this section of his life story necessary? Do we need to know he was kind of a jerk and had shitty friends and was a shitty friend and suffered a lot? And if so, why? His brilliant mind helped us do massacring of a newfangled variety, which the world is thankful for in a grotesque way, but was he necessary? Even his wife asks the general at some point why they didn’t pick Einstein or another great scientist who could have done it. The answer in this show is that the leader of this project needed this project to be his career highlight, and the other big name scientists already had other significant achievements in their careers. Cool. A more interesting story would have continued to the government’s turning on him after the war and their awful investigation into his political views, kind of like how the British government turned on Alan Turing after the war after he freaking saved their lives those ungrateful ignorant assholes. God knows in three hours would could have covered all of that. But we didn’t really get to it, probably because of all the unnecessary speechifying. So there were some really interesting choices made in this play. I’m not sure they worked, but despite all the weirdness it was still pretty good. I just wish they had hired an editor.
AUDIENCE: CONGRATULATIONS, Oppenheimer audience! This was the first time in many years that I did not see a cell phone being used during the show. I mean, that is pretty remarkable. However, there was this awful young couple behind me who talked the entire time. And I mean the entire time. I regret not saying something at intermission but I feared them cutting my hair during Act II or something. I did give them the good old death stare a few times though. I am proud of that.
