Buckle up, folks, it's the Thanksgiving week roundup!
What: Roundabout hosts the West End hit adaptation of Sophocles's play, translated by director Robert Icke into a contemporary political thriller. Oedipus here is an idealistic politician on the final day of his campaign for office, with his wife on his arm, his brother in law advising him as speechwriter, his three children in attendance, and his mother as an unexpected visitor. In the wake of his campaign promises to release his birth certificate and to solve the mystery behind his predecessor Laius's sudden death thirty-four years ago, secrets are unwillingly dragged into the light, and well--you know the story right? Everyone knows the story here.
And? While I've had a mixed experience with Icke's work in the past, this adaptation and production are extraordinarily good. Mark Strong and Lesley Manville are doing such fully realized work, you forget they're actors. Oedipus and Jocasta are genuinely in love and they truly want to do good; and despite any damages he may incur, Oedipus is dead set on finding out the truth and doing right by it. Which, of course, is what you need to make the agony of a Greek tragedy work. Lesley Manville in particularly is absolutely heartbreaking as you see the realization of the full truth register on her face, in her gut. I couldn't take my eyes off her.
The production itself outside of the performances is also very well structured: a formerly pristine white space with rotating walls and large glass windows, full of the stuff and chaos of campaigning. As these are gradually cleared, all of the furniture being slowly moved out, we become aware of the lie of transparency in this space, of the obstacles to clear sight and truth. But we also approach closer to the purity of that truth, the clean white space where there is nowhere left to hide. Meanwhile (not subtly, but still effectively) a large digital clock counts down the minutes until the results of the election come through and his victory is assured. It is also, we know, counting down the minutes until the truth is revealed. And indeed, the clock hits zero when Jocasta tells Oedipus who he actually is and what he's done.
Just excellent work all around.
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| Jordan Scowen, Olivia Reis, Mark Strong, Lesley Manville, James Wilbraham, Anne Reid, and Bhasker Patel as Eteocles, Antigone, Oedipus, Jocasta, Polyneices, Merope, and Corin. Photo by Julieta Cervantes. |
11/25/25: Chess
What: Danny Strong's rewrite of the notoriously messy but beloved musical makes its way to Broadway, starring Lea Michele, Nicholas Christopher, and Aaron Tveit. What is it about? Depends on the version you're watching but the tl;dr is: chess literally and also as a metaphor for Cold War machinations, and also there's a love triangle that is actually a quadrangle.
And? I don't know what to tell you guys. Well, I do, but I'm disappointed to do it. It's so weird, I remember liking Danny Strong's revision to the book in DC. Was I wrong, or have they kept working on it to the degree that it's reverted back into a mess again? This script feels both overwritten and underwritten: the Arbiter's narration is too peppered with tired references to today's political woes and too dumbed down to the lowest common audience denominator. On the flip side of that, the dialogue scenes that remain are so underwritten that the rest of the cast has almost nothing to work with. Svetlana is reduced to a mustache-twirling sex kitten (though I lay the blame for that not only on Strong but also director Michael Mayer). Shakespeare Forum's credo is that "love is the strongest choice." If there's no actual love left between Svetlana and Anatoly, where is the tension on whether or not he should return to the USSR? Meanwhile context has been broken enough that Florence's big second act solo, "Someone Else's Story," is completely isolated from any other scene such that it may as well be a concert performance on PBS (granted, the lyrics are generic enough that the song can be reassigned to anyone else and still pretend to make sense). Florence walks out on stage, stands and delivers, the audience cheers, and off she goes again. I also don't understand either the song's placement in the eleven o'clock spot, or why it's played so positively. She's about to lose the love of her life and she knows it. Florence is--and I think always has been--let down by the script. She's meant to be the main character, but nearly every action she takes is in service of someone else, always a man. You can argue that the point of the story is that they're all pawns being controlled and sacrificed by the officers of the state, CIA agent Walter and KGB agent Molokov, but in that case wouldn't a great arc be Florence stepping away from pawn status and becoming the queen she should be? Guys, wouldn't that be nice? They claim she's one of the best chess players in the world. Why isn't she better at this kind of strategy?
Actually let's talk a bit more about that "what action are we playing here" question. "I Know Him So Well" is one of my favorite two-woman duets in musical theater. It just sounds so lovely. But it should be about both Florence and Svetlana realizing (or thinking they realize) that they can't hold onto Anatoly. Florence sings "he needs security" because she believes he will leave her and return to his wife; Svetlana sings "he needs his fantasy and freedom" because she believes he will never return home but continue to wander the world as a refugee with a lover, not a wife. That's what the lyrics mean. And again, that's the exciting tension, both fully convinced they know him so well while also demonstrating he remains unknowable. If they're both playing the song like Florence has already won, what am I watching? Why are they doing this to Zelda?
Back to the Arbiter (this review is as messy as the show). At first I loved the use of his role: narrator and puppet master I could get behind (excellent use of him with the choreography of the ensemble), but treating his role like someone spoon-feeding Cold War politics to first graders grated on me almost immediately. Either trust the show or don't; either trust the audience or don't. Either do a concert or do a show.
And the design! Let's pick on them too (this is turning into the rant I did about Company a few years ago). The scenic design is pretty sparse and concert-y, which, fine, I guess. However, there is a moment in the first act when a full bed with headboard appears out of the trap in the floor. I thought, "ah, things are finally real and concrete because their connection is concrete and real, and the aesthetic is about to transform." Nah. Back to minimalism after that. So I don't understand that choice. I also don't understand the costume design. Are we playing with black and white chessboard color palette or aren't we? Is Svetlana's burgundy dress meant to show she doesn't belong on the chessboard? Then why is she given calculated moves? I just ... come on, y'all, tell a coherent story.
"Other than that, Zelda, how was the play?" Incredible performers. Truly. These voices are unreal. Sean Allan Krill as Walter isn't given enough to do for his talent, but he makes a meal out of what he has. Likewise, as his USSR counterpart Molokov, Bradley Dean gets to shine the way he deserves. Though I was routinely annoyed by the lines handed to the Arbiter, Bryce Pinkham remains a delight onstage. Lea Michele's Florence is let down by the writing, as ranted above, but what an absolute treat to hear her put her mark on this score. She knows how to texture a lyric: when to keep it close and intimate and when to belt it out. Aaron Tveit's Freddie is appropriately a mix of insufferable and charismatic enough to make you want to forgive him. He's excellent throughout (and has a fun bit of costume choreography in "One Night in Bangkok"--guys, I know they can't cut this song because it's the biggest hit from the show, but they really should cut this song if they want to script to ever actually work), and really lets everything explode in his big second act number "Pity the Child." And Nicholas Christopher as Anatoly? This is a star-making role. He's been quietly on the rise for a while now and it's such a gift to see him claim the spotlight the way he deserves. He has such physical restraint, cool as a cucumber, which makes it all the more powerful when he finally lets loose his rafter-shaking voice. His "Anthem" was unlike any other rendition of that song I've heard.
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| Aaron Tveit as Freddie with the ensemble of Chess. Photo by Matthew Murphy. |