Margin Notes: It Shoulda Been You

Lisa Howard and Tyne Daly as Jenny and Judy.
Photo by Joan Marcus.

It Shoulda Been You

Seen on: Monday, 3/23/15.
My grade: D+. A convoluted and unfunny book, pedestrian songs, rescued in part by a talented cast, but there's only so much they can salvage.

Plot and Background

There's the bride, the groom, the bride's controlling and hypercritical mother, the groom's possessive dipsomaniac mother, the bride's overlooked and overweight sister, the two beleaguered fathers, the bride's ex, the best man and maid of honor, and the omniscient wedding planner with his two wise-cracking assistants. Hijinks, secret plans, and plot twists ensue. Did I leave anything out? Oh yes, there's also a bit of Jews vs. Gentiles. This show played previously at the George Street Playhouse in in New Jersey in 2011, with some of the same cast. This marks the Broadway directorial debut for David Hyde Pierce.

What I Knew Beforehand

I knew it was a big ensemble cast full of actors I've enjoyed, and that it was about a wedding.

Thoughts:

Play: I wanted to enjoy this more than I did, but the jokes weren't consistently funny, the songs barely ever interesting, and the characters were more often than not archetypes rather than unique individuals. And honestly I feel like a lot of the plot twists would have played more interestingly had the audience been in on them from the start. I don't have a whole lot to say beyond that, because the show just didn't grab me, so I'm going to take a slight tangent to talk about a bit of a beef I had. Apologies. I was particularly disappointed in the writing for the character of Jenny, the bride's sister, a woman who was a size or three larger than her ingenue sister. Her mother, in stereotypical Jewish Mother Mode, regularly berates her for not trying hard enough, etc etc etc, and treating any imperfection of appearance as a character flaw. And obviously this perspective exists, and is prevalent in the world, but - just once I'd like to see a story where a character starts out owning herself, and where that perspective, that toxic type of opinion is dismissed out of hand, is not given a shred of validity by any other character. Instead, it followed the same stereotypical path of Jenny wrapping her entire sense of self-worth on how others view her, and it's not until she's pronounced beautiful by her mother at the end, that you get the sense she's gained any real lasting sense of self esteem. I wish her character had had any more defining feature than "overweight and self-esteem wrapped around that fact" because I think it's fantastic that we got a show where the protagonist was not your typical leading lady. But she needs more definition than this. She needs a better story than this.

Margin Notes: Wolf Hall, Pts. 1 & 2

Ben Miles as Thomas Cromwell. Photo by
Johan Persson.

Wolf Hall, Pts. 1 & 2
Part One: Wolf Hall
Part Two: Bring Up the Bodies

Seen on: Thursday, 4/2/15 and Friday, 4/3/15.
My grade: A. Competently done, all around.

Plot and Background

Wolf Hall tracks Thomas Cromwell's rise from being the fallen Cardinal Wolsey's supporter and friend to becoming King Henry VIII's right hand man, despite class and religious prejudices of the King's other advisers. He must bring about the annulment of King Henry's marriage to his first wife, Katherine (and in so doing, separate England forever from the Pope and Catholicism), and arrange his marriage to Anne Boleyn. Bring Up the Bodies continues the narrative after the marriage, as Anne fails to produce a male heir, and the King's attentions wander to the young Jane Seymour. Cromwell must again negotiate an annulment to the King's marriage, by any means necessary. These two plays, produced by the RSC in January 2013 and transplanted now to Broadway, are based on the first two novels of an intended trilogy by Hilary Mantel, which reframes King Henry's reign from the perspective of his political fixer Thomas Cromwell. The novels were award-winning though controversial, and have also inspired a BBC miniseries (now airing on PBS) starring Mark Rylance.

What I Knew Beforehand

I knew that this was based on the first two books of a very popular trilogy of novels (third novel not yet out) by Hilary Mantel, following Cromwell's adventures with Henry VIII. And I vaguely remembered what some of those adventures might entail from history class, some movies, some plays, you know the drill.

Thoughts:

Play: What's fascinating, watching the smoothly manipulative Cromwell navigate his way through these six hours, is on how many levels he's operating simultaneous. What is his primary drive? Is it a simple rise to power? A desire for control and influence over his monarch? A forwarding of Martin Luther and the Gospels? Serving his king? Or - as the final chilling tableau would have us believe - a protracted but sure revenge on the people responsible for the death of his spiritual father? It made me really want three things: 1 - part three; 2 - to read the books; 3 - to see how the miniseries handles it. This was a very cool perspective on a story we've already seen from a variety of angles (history class, The Tudors, The Other Boleyn Girl, a spot of A Man for All Seasons, and other retellings) but this one focuses on Cromwell and not the more dramatic royals. It's behind the scenes in a different way - where policy is crafted, bargains struck, and the ladder slowly but surely climbed by the "butcher's boy." My one real criticism would be that both parts are rather long. My other vague criticism may spout from the fact that I was rather foggy in the head from a cold when I saw the show, and so while I had no difficulty following the plot or staying awake, there were an awful lot of characters whose wrongs I couldn't always track - it just all gets rather busy when you're dealing with history, I suppose. It was a good production, and if not action-packed, it was packed with men  (and a few women) planning their next move.

Final random thought: It was interesting, with the 2008 Frank Langella revival of A Man For All Seasons still fresh in my memory, to see Cromwell and More play the villains in each other's stories.

Margin Notes: Gigi

Gigi

Vanessa Hudgens as Gigi. Photo by Joan Marcus.

Seen on: Monday, 3/30/15.
My grade: A. Really just a stellar production all around.

Plot and Background

Paris, 1900. Honore, an aging bon vivant, celebrates the glories of l'amour, while his rich nephew Gaston is heading toward another break up with his current mistress. Meanwhile, Gaston's young friend Gigi, raised by her grandmother and great aunt, is dismayed and confused by Paris's fixation on matters of the heart. But as she starts to come into her own maturity, Gaston notices, and, well ... sparks fly. Gigi was originally adapted from the 1945 Colette novel into an Oscar-winning film by Lerner and Loewe in 1958, then later turned into a stage musical in 1973. This production has a revised script by Heidi Thomas, and premiered first at Washington, D.C.'s Kennedy Center in January this year before transferring to Broadway.

What I Knew Beforehand

I've seen the film numerous times, so was fairly familiar with the story and score. I also knew we were in for some revisions, to smooth over some of the less-acceptable-in-these-here-times aspects of the narrative.

Major Changes

The primary change was to Gaston's character, which - let's face it - needed some revision. No longer the bored cynic, he instead values innovation over romance, frequently visiting the World's Fair, and talking enthusiastically of various technological advances. He's also cast considerably younger (and sweeter-faced) than in the film, and so seems more able to be Gigi's equal, and more deserving of her love, than Louis Jourdan could.

I don't remember the score perfectly enough to speak to every particular change, but the two major revisions I noted were to the men's songs - "Thank Heaven For Little Girls," formerly the rather uncomfortable anthem sung by Honore, is now shared by Mamita and Aunt Alicia and transformed into a gentle argument (think the film revision of "America" for West Side Story but with less dancing); and Gaston's duet with Honore, "It's a Bore," is revised to no longer be a blanket rejection by Gaston of every one of Honore's suggestions, but rather a conversation with Gaston making his own suggestions of values beyond romance in Paris.

Thoughts:

Play: This was just utterly lovely, all around. It stayed faithful to what made the original film charming, while working to improve some of its more problematic elements (a career-long issue for the misogynistic Lerner and Loewe, it seems). I loved the design of it, the staging of it, the casting - everything working together to make a perfectly enjoyable evening. (not having seen King and I yet, I feel like if the race for best revival were between Gigi and On the Town, it would honestly just break down to which show or story you preferred originally). As for the revisions, they mostly worked - both Gigi and Gaston were more dynamic figures, and it was nice to see Gigi with a bit more agency. However, Gaston's reformation was still hamstrung by his songs. His rant in the title song is still just as nasty and infantilizing, for all that Corey Cott tries to soften it. That song was written to fit the film Gaston, and not the stage Gaston.

Margin Notes: Twelfth Night & What You Will

Susannah Millonzi, Andrus Nichols, Eric Tucker,
Edmund Lewis, and Tom O'Keefe in 12N. Photo source.

Twelfth Night (or what you will) 
& What You Will (or twelfth night)

Seen on: Thursday, 3/26/15 and Friday, 3/27/15.
My grade: 12N: B-. WYW: B+.

Plot and Background

Twins Viola and Sebastian are separated in a sea wreck, and presume the other is dead. Washed ashore in Illyria, Viola disguises herself as a young man and goes to work for the Duke Orsino, with whom she falls in love. He sends her to woo Olivia, who in her mourning will receive no petitioners. She, of course, falls in love with "Cesario" and hijinks ensue. Meanwhile, Olivia's cousin Sir Toby and his cohorts run afoul of Olivia's steward Malvolio, and set out to humiliate him. Hijinks, etc. And then Sebastian appears and confuses everyone, including himself. Twelfth Night is believed to have been written in 1601 or 1602 by William Shakespeare. Bedlam here presents two different cuttings of the text with two very different styles (and genderings of roles).

What I Knew Beforehand

I knew the source play, of course, having seen it countless times (including the quite good film version with Imogen Stubbs and the near-perfect Globe transplant with Mark Rylance). I also knew, having seen their productions of Saint Joan, Hamlet, and Sense and Sensibility, that Bedlam produces some breathtakingly honest work, with a good spirit of play to it.

Thoughts:

Play: I saw WYW first, so I think that's how I'm going to structure this section. First impressions and all that.

WYW is a joyful, giddy flight in white (see design notes). Even as it starts with a tear-stained Viola mourning her brother's death, and Orsino obsessively listening to music to sooth his wounded heart, a sense of joy and play permeate this production. There's a bit of text flexibility here - not only shifting pronouns to reflect a woman playing Sir Toby, but a shuffling of lines to speakers (when, say, minor characters have been excised from the play altogether), a shuffling of soliloquies within scenes - nothing feels particularly foolhardy or unearned, because it's still in service of the story. They've also added an interesting duality to the performance of Viola/Cesario. While Susannah Millonzi carries all of Viola's role, she more often than not shares Cesario's interactions with Tom O'Keefe - performing Cesario as the others perceive him. This pays off extremely well, of course, when O'Keefe appears later as her missing brother Sebastian. For, even if O'Keefe and Millonzi look nothing alike, of course Sebastian and Cesario look the same! Why, they could be twins! Other fun highlights include ice cream cones as pacifiers (you'll see what I mean). There was one choice I couldn't quite reckon, which was the use of paint. The show takes place in a white-painted void, and all the characters are wearing white clothing. So when the first character suddenly has bright paint smeared across him, my first instinct was to read into that paint, some - what? introduction of emotion, perhaps, or a new immersion in love. However, the moment that actor - not changing his costume - switches to a different character, the entire meaning of that paint smear is lost. It can't mean the same for every character he's playing, and thus the specificity of the painting is lost. Unless the real intent of the paint is just to messy up what was a pristine world. If that's the case, it's still a bit of a murky choice, but I guess I can understand the rationale.

If WYW is the first few giddy sips of champagne, a world semi-consequence-free, 12N is three or four cups of gin into a night of melancholy drinking. Here Toby is a mean and dour drunk, Andrew a soused and compliant fool (rather than the primping dandy of WYW), and Olivia is still deeply in mourning for her brother. The change in Malvolio's character (see cast notes) may have had one of the larger tonal effects, however. The subplot of the gulling and humiliation of Malvolio is typically one of the comic highlights of the show, despite its nastiness. But with this Malvolio, a man less mean than merely proper, Toby's cruelty is thrown into sharper relief, and the whole thing is just nastier. It's harder to side with anyone in that particular conflict, and you long for it to be over. For all that 12N is a more serious take on the matter, it does descend into its own brand of chaos and absurdity - turning the would-be duel between Andrew and Cesario into a puppet show, or the scene with All the Reveals into a frantic game of hat-changing and glasses-tossing. Unfortunately, this production ultimately didn't work for me. The tone in general felt off, the comedy felt forced whereas in WYW it flowed easily. And there was something weak in the love triangle and the portrayal of Viola's conflict.

Margin Notes: The Liquid Plain

Kristolyn Lloyd and Ito Aghayere as
Adjua and Dembi. Photo by Joan Marcus.

The Liquid Plain

Seen on: Wednesday, 3/25/15.
My grade: B-. Excellent cast, beautiful design, somewhat bewildering story, but Naomi Wallace's gift with language and character relationships ran strongly through this.

Plot and Background

Bristol, Rhode Island, "A possible 1791." Escaped slaves Adjua and Dembi hide out on a dock, mending sails and ransacking drowned corpses, saving money towards passage back to Africa. They rescue a nearly drowned amnesiac, Cranston, who brings more trouble than anticipated. Act Two takes place in 1837 when Adjua's child Bristol returns to America in search of the man who killed her aunt. This play was originally commissioned in 2013 for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival for their American Revolutions cycle, with Kwame Kwei-Armah. It is the second play in Naomi Wallace's season as one of Signature's resident playwrights.

What I Knew Beforehand

I've read a number of Naomi Wallace's plays (in fact, I used a monologue from The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek when I was auditioning for colleges 300 years ago), and I'd seen her last offering at Signature, And I and Silence.

Thoughts:

Play: It's rather a strange story, if only because the narrative we thought we were tracking in Act One is largely abandoned in Act Two; or at the least, it's picked up many years later when nearly all the characters we knew are long dead. And then there's the randomness of William Blake inhabiting corpses and losing appendages. It's a strange play. But for all that, it's so very much a Naomi Wallace play, that once you adjust to how she tells stories, how she lets us into her characters, it all seems just how things are in the world. She's always had such a gift for language, for finding a strange and yet entirely truthful way for her characters to express themselves, that even the absurd and fantastical seem completely grounded. There's no one else quite like her, and I'm glad Signature has chosen her for residency so I can finally see her work live in New York.