Man alive, Chekhov needed a friend, am I right? Christopher Durang could have easily made a less-funny Chekhovian play called Vanya & Sonya & Depression & Sadness and we’d all get it. Actually, it should still be funny, because Chekhov, the master, infused his gloomy, depressing (if you drink every time I use this word in this piece you will get through quarantine like a champ) classic Uncle Vanya with just as much humor as sadness, and just as much heart as melancholy, just as much humanity and sad beauty as grief. The current London production of Uncle Vanya is a fantastic, nearly flawless revival, one of the many heartbreaking casualties of this strange time of isolation. Toby Jones in the titular role redefines how fully felt this unforgettable character can be, and he leads a pretty great cast in this magnificent production.

If you don’t know Chekhov’s classic of countryside despair, Uncle Vanya tells about a man named Vanya who lives with his niece Sonya in a crumbling country estate where every day looks the same and their future looks bleak but they just go through each day doing their paperwork and drinking their vodka and, like, sighing, I guess. But excitement enters with the unwelcome arrival of Vanya’s brother/Sonya’s father Aleksandr (played by the wonderful Ciaran Hinds), a famous professor who is lauded as a genius but is really just an annoying and ignorant blowhard and my favorite part was when Vanya tried to shoot him and my least favorite part was when he missed. Aleksandr has a hot new young wife Yelena (played by understudy Afia Abusham when I saw it, who was decent but didn’t seem to quite get her footing enough to make an impression among this stellar cast) and Vanya is like OH DIP A HOT WOMAN AND ONE I’M NOT RELATED TO I HAVEN’T SEEN ONE IN YEARS! And he falls in love with her but Yelena is like mmm pass and falls instead for the hot town doctor who pays ever increasing visits since her arrival. Sadly, Sonya, who is good (and Natasha’s young and Andrei isn’t heeere) but plain is like SUPES in love with hot doctor (Richard Armitage, magnetic) but he is not attracted to her in the least even though he is as lonely as everyone else and it would be nice if he and Sonya saved each other from a life of dreary solitude but hey he just doesn’t love her you can’t force it so instead he ALSO falls for Yelena (who is MARRIED, my dudes) (okay to an old buffoon but STILL). So everyone is super unhappy and lonely and depressed because they know this is their lot in life and it will never change. Russians, man.

Toby Jones’s Vanya is, well, everything. He so completely and perfectly inhabits Vanya’s despair with every joke and gesture and gaze, a despair that informs everything Vanya says or does though he tries to keep it bubbling under the surface, at least part of the time. It’s heartbreaking that he has lived a life so barren and knows that there’s nothing he can do to change it (I mean, I’m optimistic that if he really wanted to, he could change his life, but Russians man). Jones also infuses his Vanya with a sad but incredible humor, because I admit nothing is funnier than self-hate, it’s true. His seemingly nonstop movement, even at rest, and elastic facial expressions added to the creation of a dynamic Vanya for the ages.

In a cast this starry, it’s surprising and impressive that despite Toby’s complete encompassing of his character, the standout is young Aimee Lou Wood as Sonya. I can’t think of a more efficient performance in recent times, with so much done with comparatively little. With only a few lines at the end of the first act, she broke my heart, and continued breaking it throughout the rest of the show. Her sad monologue that ends the show had me riveted. Husbo thought the delivery was painfully labored and it took him out, but for me, I needed all that time to breathe in between words because I was still so shaken by her final interaction with the doctor, an interaction so subtle and so exquisitely performed that I wanted to gasp but instead cried. She’s an incredible young actor that I can’t wait to see more of. Her performance is a huge part of what makes this production so beautiful, so heartbreaking, and so – one more for the road – depressing.

INFORMATION

After a 7:30pm start (probably 7:33 or so, happily not as late as most shows), Act I ended at 8:44pm and Act II at 10:12, so note that it is 12 minutes longer than it says on the official show website which might not seem like a lot to you but it’s enough to be wrong.

Vanya’s annoying mother is extra annoying because they have her smoke a lot. She has like 4 lines but it was important to establish that her character smokes?? MISS ME WITH THIS UNNECESSARY LUNG DAMAGE PLEASE.

This was supposed to run until May 2 but the world is on a break from life so I suggest reading the play and perhaps acting out all the parts with the people you are locked down with. If you are locked down alone, do all the parts yourself like when I sing “Moscow” from The Great Comet it doesn’t make you look or feel crazy no sirree I promise totally a normal thing to do.

The post Uncle Vanya at the Harold Pinter: Boy those Russians Know From Debilitating Depression appeared first on Laughfrodisiac.

Whether you are new to The Last Five Years (what, how but welcome!) or know it better than you know your phone number (me)(UK numbers are hard), the new, dazzling production of this beloved work is a necessary treat for musical lovers, theatre lovers, and even regular lovers who feel like being depressed but like in a beautiful way. A song-cycle of a show, Jason Robert Brown’s The Last Five Years shares the love story a divorcing couple, but the two characters famously share their stories in opposite directions: Jamie goes in chronological order, starting at the beginning of their courtship and ending at their divorce, while Cathy goes backwards, starting after their relationship has fallen apart and ending after their first date. IT IS HEAVY, YES, but it’s some of the best music in modern musical theatre, and this unique, inspired production does a commendable job.

There are a few (maybe like 50) musicals I feel very protective about because of how much I love them. The Last Five Years is one of them. I remember all of us in the plays in high school listening to the original off-Broadway album with Sherie Rene Scott and Norbert Leo Butz (only people with three names were allowed to be involved originally) and being completely obsessed. So, I’m even more critical than usual about this show because it’s impossible not to compare to the originals, and no one can compete with them. And because the score is so g-d beautiful and emotionally raw and funny and moving and amazing (though it’s always a tad uncomfortable to remember that this show is fairly autobiographical) so I’m always like DON’T FUCK IT UP OR I WILL FUCK YOU UP. But the Southwark’s production, with fairly flawless direction from Jonathan O’Boyle, doesn’t try to compete through sheer vocal ability in the usual stand-and-plant manner of running this show. Instead, they’ve created a distinctive version that keeps both actors onstage most of the time, and – spectacularly – makes them each other’s accompanist.

That’s right, Cathy (Molly Lynch) plays the piano for all of Jamie’s (Oli Higginson) (literally just realized their names rhyme) songs, and vice versa, adding the nuance of an extra layer of responsibility for what the other experienced (along with extra chances at seriously impressing us with their talents). It’s an exceptional move, making for a more vibrant and energetic version than usual, for a show that doesn’t usually have the characters interact until the wedding crossover point. While it would be impossible to get performers who are superb singers, actors, and pianists, especially for a small production like this, Lynch and Higginson (who I often thought was Matt Doyle undercover) are often great. They shine brightest as pianists, but they are more than serviceable singers. Lynch excels during Cathy’s faster numbers, when she can show off her humor, like in “A Summer in Ohio”, staged cleverly with her playing the ukulele to Jamie over a video call. Higginson’s slower songs (the more depressing ones I guess) gave him the breath for stronger belting so he sounded best in the second half. They’re both probably working harder than anyone on a London stage right now, and it’s a joy to watch.

In addition to the novel accompaniment, this production’s use of props was interesting. The actors were always doing something active with their books or picture frames or, my favorite part, the subtle and genius use of the gift box for Cathy’s watch in “The Schmuel Song” (very Jeannette Bayardelle in Shida), which could end up distracting but I thought always added to the scene positively. There were also lyric changes that I think were in the last production I saw but always surprise me but then I’m like oh no it’s okay (changes include “Russell Crowe” replacing “Linda Blair” which is meh, and “who you could say looked like Tom Cruise” replaced with “with some very well placed tattoos” which I’m fine with). All I know is if anyone ever changes the Sonny Mehta line I will stand up and walk out (RIP).

It’s not a perfect production – I actively disliked how long the pause in The Schmuel Song during ‘limbovitch’ was (I prefer no pause! it’s funnier!) (also, speaking of, this song features ‘funny’ use of a prayer shawl, which reminded me that I don’t know if any Jews are involved and Jamie is a verrrry Jewish role so like yeesh I hope because ahh). And, as I’ve increasingly seen in young performers, there was a bit too much swallowing of lyrics and speaking lyrics instead of acting emphasis out through song. In the second half, I thought Cathy reacted too much in real time to Jamie’s songs, confusing the opposite timelines (I don’t think people unfamiliar with the concept would have any idea that she was at the beginning of their relationship for a good 20-minute chunk, until her “I Can Do Better Than That”). And while I can’t pinpoint why, this is the first production I’ve ever seen that didn’t make me cry the entire time, with extra heaving during the wedding scene and the end. I just didn’t feel the emotional pull I usually do, which might be due to the prioritizing of the performers’ musical skills over their acting skills. However, for this production, I enjoyed the change of pace that that prioritizing created.

INFORMATION

The Last Five Years plays at the Southwark Playhouse until March 28.

The show is about 90 minutes straight through. My performance ended about 9:15pm because it started about 15 minutes late but that’s okayyyy things happennnn I didn’t get a utiiiii (or did I). The setup this go round (the Southwark changes layout for each show) has the audience on three sides and the only door blocked by the stage area so leaving is difficult at the end. If you need to make a fast exit your only real option is A1-10, the front row of the section by the door (because it’s stadium-style seating with barricades, the first seat of the other rows don’t count as aisles for me unless you are willing to jump through the railings) (which I am but I don’t know your life).

The post An Inspired Production of The Last Five Years at Southwark Playhouse appeared first on Laughfrodisiac.

Why am I shocked? After all, yoots have been obsessed with Be More Chill for years now, overjoyed to finally get a show that reflects what high school life and concerns are like nowadays without requiring you to sob through it. But everything I heard about the New York productions from people of discerning taste was that it’s too loud, too annoying, with a score that’s basically just noise and a plot that’s completely eye roll. So is the London production really that much better or are we just getting desperate for good shows over here? Maybe these people, whose opinions I usually value, are just not as fun-loving and happy-go-lucky as lil bab childlike me. (I told you I can be funny.) Maybe the relatively small Other Palace is just the perfect theatre to house this show. Or maybe I just still have the soul of a 14-year-old. Maybe it’s all of that but whatever the reasons, I found Be More Chill surprisingly entertaining, enjoyable, and, honestly, of decent quality. No I’m not going to listen to the cast recording until I memorize every breath like I usually do (I tried, it’s not my kind of score), but seeing it live? So fun!

Be More Chill tells the story of Jeremy (Scott Folan, very good but I fear he will lose his voice soon), a huge nerd trying to get through the school day without too much trouble and maybe with a run-in with the girl he likes, Christine (Miracle Chance, cute and yes that’s her real name not the character name I forking love her parents). He learns a huge secret: Japan has new technology called a Squip, which implants on your brain and controls your behavior via a sort of Bad Janet that only you can see, who helps you make cool dude decisions so you can stop being a nerd and start being awesome. I DID SAY I WANTED ORIGINAL STORIES, DIDN’T I.

Obvs Jeremy gets one on the black market (he mentions using his Bar Mitzvah money to pay for it, which is the kind of casual Jewish representation that WE NEED to help normalize it in this anti-Semitic country, MORE OF THIS PLZ (also it’s like the first tiny step in a long future of necessary apologies I require from The Other Palace for Falsettos)) and while it does make him cooler, there are consequences, like alienating his best friend Michael (Blake Patrick Anderson, honestly incred), treating people like dirt, and, of course, the Little Shop-like twist that our trusty Squip (Stewart Clarke) and his fellow Bad Janets intend to take over the world (so he’s def more Audrey-II-But-Hot-and-Straight-Out-of-the-Matrix than our beloved Bad Janet who LEARNED and REDEEMED herself). So, like what I originally assumed Parasite was going to be about (I did not read about it in advance, as I was instructed).

What’s great about this show is…not so much the music, which is serviceable but does indeed start to resemble a wall of noise towards the end of Act I (especially the whole Burning down the House section which was too close to going clubbing and seemed like just an excuse for a dance break) (shocking because I love so much of Joe’s music (no not just his amazing “Broadway Here I Come” from Smash…but yeah that is my fave)). The story, even though it’s this futuristic techno crazyspice, is really a completely universal tale about friendship, insecurity, and being okay with being yourself. The clever book, by Joe Tracz (based on Ned Vizzini’s book) (no not that Vizzini), weaves through storylines and achieves callbacks with finesse and humor. It’s definitely American slanted, and I’m glad they didn’t rewrite some of the best parts for London, because we appreciated the bejesus out of the references to New Jersey malls, Ghostbusters ecto cooler, and so much more. (The people near us were probably like WHAT IS SO FUNNY ABOUT PARAMUS.)

Anderson’s “Michael in the Bathroom”, the famous song to come out of this show and the only one I sort of like out of context, is the showstopper you hope it’ll be, due to its wonderful role in the story, relatable message, and Anderson’s pitch-perfect performance. He’s clearly very talented and I hope we see a lot more of him in future shows. Millie O’Connell, probably the most famous name in the cast, doesn’t have much to do, but when she does get to shine it’s hilarious, like in her very Alexis-Rose-oh-that’s-cute-for-you book scenes. Even Jeremy’s dad gets to have a ball (no reference to the fact that he’s pantsless most of the time intended). The whole cast is having a blast and it’s impossible not to join in.

INFORMATION

Be More Chill is playing at London’s The Other Palace until June 14, after extending another 6 weeks. (I don’t think it can extend again due to TOP’s future season but it is breaking all sorts of box office records there, so.)

The first act ended after 72 minutes and the second exactly at the 2 ½ hour mark overall so good work team.

The Other Palace is an okayyy theatre. Seating is in just one giant section of central-aisle-less rows, a solid block and a super steep one at that, so unless you like being trapped for what can seem like forever, sit closer to the aisles and further up/back. For the first time ever, I sat in the back of the theatre and not only did I not get trapped behind slowpokes when exiting, but the view from the back is just as good. Highly recommend my new fave seats.

Bathrooms are out in the lobby by the bar and also behind a secret (ish) door right next to the house left side of the stage, which few people know about.

This is the first time I’ve ever seen an off-West End production sell merch, which isn’t even the done thing all too often at regular West End shows, so if you want clothing and what not, good for you.

Be warned, since this is a show that attracts cult-like superfans, there’s a lot of dancing in the seats and mouthing along, which got super annoying and distracting but not enough to detract from the show. Also lots of over-the-top wrapper noise which is just par for the humanity course nowadays because everyone is monsters.

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I mean, man alive. If you want to feel like you’ve been punched in the gut but are really grateful for it, then you are ready for Tom Stoppard’s new, and possibly his last, play Leopoldstadt. Following an extended Jewish family from 1899 in Vienna until, well, later, the play is a heavy exploration of how this family’s fortunes changed from one generation to the next and how their country treated them over time. The giant cast and the constantly changing ages of the characters prevent real attachment to any individual – or real grasping of who’s who – but the details are less important than the serious emotional pull created in this powerful work.

And that emotional heft is considerable. Despite not fully understanding how each relative was connected (there’s a family tree in the programme, but good luck keeping it all straight (you won’t!)), those particulars weren’t necessary to understand who these people were and to care in general about what was going to happen as we get further into the 20^th century. The play achieves an almost immediate sense of intimacy with this family, helped by little glimpses of how all the members interact, throwing us right into their gatherings and conversations without wasting time explaining. The visuals help as well, with the lush Christmas celebration at the start and the same room slowly changing, and dwindling, scene by scene. 

The family quickly feels familiar, even though with each scene change and time jump you have new faces to put to somewhat-old names as well as new names and faces to try to connect to those old names you sort of remember. (Don’t think about it too hard, too too hard.) When the names do stick, the payoff is remarkable (especially when you think e.g. ‘oh that little tot Heini is supes adorbs’ and then at the last part of the show you squeaky cry remembering who he is). We follow the family through a changing Vienna and a changing Leopoldstadt, the Jewish quarter, as they go from well-to-do members of the business community, to people forbidden from working, owning property, being citizens of their own land. You know what’s coming, but it never feels predictable, only powerful. 

I’m fascinated by how a master playwright can take aspects of a show that would otherwise be somewhat trying and make it wonderful. The broken cup coming on the night of broken glass felt poetic and not at all transparent. There’s a lot of speechifying in this show, the sort where I’d often be like ‘ALRIGHT WRAP IT UP CUBA’ and think about how much more effective and efficient it would have been to express those ideas shared through dialogue or action. But the long monologues, especially between the two brothers in the first scene on what it means to be Jewish and never be able to stop being it, I found riveting. Despite several long speeches, breadth of characters instead of depth, and the overall feeling of impending doom, I never felt antsy (nor did I consider how I would fix this show, which as you know is one of my main hobbies).

As usual with plays of this subject matter, the relevance for society today is pretty overwhelming. It’s an important, powerful play that’s aware of its importance without being obvious about it. There’s so much for audiences to learn from it, especially London audiences (including one lesson from Fritz, an asshole for sure, as I wish more anti-Semites would take their lead from him and refuse to fight Jews. I mean that would help a lot of American rallies for one thing.)

All my belly-aching about how Jews and Jewishness are treated (spoiler: badly) in London theatre, and Stoppard comes along with a play doing everything right. Patrick Marber’s direction is great (jew!), Tom’s son Ed is acting in it (jew!), and not to assume things but at least some of the many Jewish-sounding names in the cast have to pan out (jews!). Aside from sobbing at the end so hard that I had literally yoga breathe to not make squeaky noises in the silent theatre, I left feeling pleased with what this powerful show does to improve London’s track record in this regard.

INFORMATION

The show is 2 ½ hours. Act I ended at 20:30 on the dot, so it’s a rare occurrence of a second act being longer but the play still being good.

We sat for the first time at Wyndham’s in the stalls boxes – it’s a private box but instead of up the sides of the theatre, it’s behind the last row of the stalls at ground level. None of the ushers seemed to know how to get to it (it has its own door from outside!) but luckily the house manager who took care of us was amazing. Weird, but we kind of loved it! There’s no one whispering behind you! No one around you bothering the everloving fork out of you! No one in front who you can see trying and failing to sneakily use their phones on their laps (although the people in front of us were full on Seinfeld-at-Schindler’s-Listing, which is forking nonsense. you’re at a HOLOCAUST SHOW. have some g-d DECENCY). Anyway would sit again.

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