Monday, May 11, 2009

Characters of the Decade - Part One: The Top 5 Reinterpreted Characters in English-Language Drama This Decade.

Each month, I will be unrolling a top 10 list regarding English-language drama this decade. Last month, I revealed the best lines from English-language plays this decade [Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three]. This month, I will be unveiling the best characters to emerge in Engish-language drama this decade. Because of the complications of such a list; I have broken it into three categories
  1. Original Characters
  2. Historical Characters (a.k.a. characters based on real life people)
  3. Reinterpreted characters: Characters Who Are Fictional But Have Appeared in Other Plays or Media Previously.
On Monday, we begin with the Top 5 Reinterpreted Characters in English-Language Drama This Decade.

5. Peter (Peter and Jerry, Edward Albee)
Edward Albee solves some unfinished business in his sequel to his 1958 classic Zoo Story—giving a character the chance to explain himself that Albee fans had craved for half a century.

4. Eurydice (Eurydice, Sarah Ruhl) Greek mythical heroes are being updated all the time, but by turning Eurydice into a sweet girl who’s tragic trait is being “interesting” is particularly inspired, especially since Ruhl manages to avoid getting too fey.

3. Moritz Stiefel (Spring Awakening, book & lyrics by Steven Sater) The character once deemed to disturbing to even touch the Fringes of New York theater became the decade’s biggest icon for depressed teenagers in American theater.

2. Franz Liebkind (The Producers, book by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan) Brad Oscar may never escape the life he gave to this character, but his performance and Brooks and Meehan’s reinterpretation may have been the only character to literally cause attendees to roll in the aisles on an almost nightly basis.

1. Aunt Esther (King Hedley II & Gem of the Ocean, August Wilson) Posthumously, we can look at August Wilson Pittsburgh Cycle in the fictional order; in real life we watched the death of the spiritual center of his body of work in his most obtusely tragic work; her role as one of the most crucial characters in African-American literature was sealed by her origin story seen just a few years later on Broadway.

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Wednesday, April 08, 2009

The Top 10 Quotes from English-language Drama This Decade: 10-6

Unless some new play ends up sweeping me off my feet in the next few months that I didn’t see coming, I think we can safely begin to wrap up the debate on the progress in drama in the English language for the first decade of the 21st century. Say what you will about the crisis facing the commercial theater in terms of profitability, but in terms of quality, there were a hell of a lot of good plays this decade. Some of these plays are as good as those from the golden age of Braodway; it would be a shame if they don’t become as much a part of our culture as Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, or Harold Pinter. I doubt that, in 40 years, I will see some future soul child of The Simpsons do to August: Osage County what The Simpsons did to A Streeetcar Named Desire, but then again, I always seem to underestimate the role of theater in American cultural life. There may be far fewer Americans, or even New Yorkers, who are aware of the works of Sarah Ruhl, Sarah Kane, Adam Rapp, Mike Daisey or Taylor Mac, but if a play makes a big enough dent on the Broadway or even high off-Broadway level, it can be seen by enough people to make a difference.

Each month, I will be unrolling a top 10 list regarding English-language drama this decade. This first month starts with the best lines from English-language plays this decade. I have admittedly taken a more mainstream angle on this list, because my aim is to gauge which lines will resonate the loudest for the longest period of time in the future.

10.

“Not many people know this, but the Führer was descended from a long line of English qveens.” – Franz Liebkind (played by Brad Oscar), The Producers, book by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan.

When Mel Brooks came up with this line, he caused co-writer Thomas Meehan to fall out of his chair laughing. He did the same to thousands of audience members of the biggest flash-in-the-pan Broadway success this decade. The line was vintage Mel Brooks, but its particular application to the musical conversion of Brooks’ first feature film was a key element of the play’s wild success. With this line, Brooks completely lightened the load of Nazi imagery that dominated the rest of the play, and validated Brooks’ controversial assertion that it was more effective to demean Hitler through mockery as rather than polemics an hour before “Springtime for Hitler,” sausage display and all, hit the stage. It was also a nod to the homoerotic connotations inherent in staging a Broadway musical, no matter how straight you may be. That a right-wing Nazi could be so blind to the inherent gayness of staging a musical only made the wink to the audience that much stronger.

9.

“You the cowboys and I'm the Indians. See who wins this war.'' – Elder Joseph Barlow (Anthony Chisolm), Radio Golf by August Wilson.

Radio Golf was the weakest play of Wilson’s decade-by-decade 20th century saga, and that was mainly because the 1990s were no place to show off what made Wilson so great. Wilson’s mix of humor, poetry, folklore, playfulness, desperation and political rage made him the preeminent voice of African-American theater in the 20th century, and this line, delivered by the only character in Radio Golf who could have fit in the rest of Wilson’s canon, pretty much summed up all of that in sentence where all but two words have one syllable. Everything went awry in Radio Golf’s second act, both for the characters and the play itself. But with this doozy of an act-breaker, Wilson showed you that, even out of his element, he could still knock you out of the park.

8.

Jirous doesn’t care. He doesn’t care enough even to cut his hair. The policeman isn’t frightened by dissidents! Why should he be? Policemen love dissidents, like the Inquisition loved heretics. Heretics give meaning to the defenders of faith. Nobody cares more than a heretic. Your friend Havel cares so much he writes a long letter to Husák. It makes no odds whether it’s a love letter or a protest letter. It means they’re playing on the same board…But the Plastics don’t care at all. They’re unbribable.” – Jan (Rufus Sewell), Rock N Roll by Tom Stoppard


Later in his life, John Osborne would repeatedly express his disgust with the success of Tom Stoppard, who he considered “intellectual flatulence.” How surprised would the original Angry Young Man be, then, to see that Stoppard would come up with the best explanation of the Angry Young Man mentality by an English language dramatist this decade. Jan is no Jimmy Porter, he’s more a foolish young pup blinded by the transcendent power of music that he sees as conquering all politics, ideas, and words. It would all come crashing down for Jan, as it does for just about every Angry Young Man, but with Rock ‘N’ Roll, Stoppard showed he understood the mindset his detractors accused him of ignoring. Jan’s speech here has all the attitude of “I hope I die before I get old” with all the intelligence of “I’ll get on my knees and pray/ we don’t get fooled again.”

7.

“If you let a standing army stand too long...it will find something to do. – Mike Daisey, If You See Something, Say Something.

Mike Daisey’s legacy at this point is still tied to his immensely influential diatribe How Theater Failed America, but with this line, Daisey framed the dangers of the military-industrial complex in a succinct manner better than anyone, be it Eisenhower, Bill Hicks, or Naomi Klein. The first time Daisey used the line, he was describing the Cold War change in the Presidential cabinet from Secretary of War to Secretary of Defense, and the line served to show how the military-industrial complex has created a perpetual need for global conflict over the last 50 years. The second time he used it, he put the words in the mouth of George Washington, which added a universal element to Daisey’s view on history, politics, war, and even theater. Daisey validated that the problems that plague our world today are not that different from what they’ve ever been. That Daisey accomplished this without a proper script only makes this achievement that much more impressive.

6.

“Did I send you to the most expensive university in the world to teach you how to feel conflicted, or to learn how to manipulate great masses of people?” – Caldwell B. Cladwell (John Cullum) – Urinetown, book by Greg Kotis.

No other musical would open with the number “Too Much Exposition,” nor would any other musical end with the cry “Hail Malthus!” But no line in Urinetown captured the sick genius of Urinetown creators Kotis and Mark Hollman like Urine Good Company’s robber baron Cladwell, who used this line as a sick way of consoling his daughter. In one line, Kotis combined high-minded political philosophy with Borscht-belt sarcasm and a practicality that gave it special significance to everyone who wasted their private college liberal arts education on philosophy or theater. The ridiculous circumstances that led to this line within the structure of Urinetown are about as ridiculous as those that led Kotis to win a Tony for writing the line.

Stay tuned for Quotes 5-3, to be revealed tomorrow.

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Wednesday, January 02, 2008

A Review of the Goodman's Production of August Wilson's "Radio Golf"

"Wilson's last play shoots straight into the bunker"
Published in the Chicago Maroon on January 26, 2007

Too much of the praise of August Wilson is based on the fact that he wrote a play about the black experience for each decade of the 20th century. Not enough of the praise discusses the uncanny ear for the spoken word, fully realized characters, and flawless ability to weave the real with the spiritual that made Wilson one of the most accomplished American playwrights, black or white, of the past half century. Composed before his death at age 60, Wilson’s final play, Radio Golf, premiered Tuesday at the Goodman Theatre, the only American company to have produced all 10 of his plays. With its season pitched as “Celebrating August Wilson,” the environment was so commemorative that it would make any critic feel uncomfortable about fairly addressing the production at hand. Maybe that was intentional because there’s no way of hiding the fact that Radio Golf is an absolute train wreck.

There were signs that this was coming. In The New Yorker’s review of the play’s New Haven premiere in May 2005, John Lahr commented, “By the time Radio Golf makes it through one or two more productions, if he’s true to form, Wilson will have discovered his play; it will be more focused, more poetic, leaner, and more fun.” Three months later, Wilson announced he had liver cancer; two months after that, he was dead. As a result, the perfectionist Wilson was unable to fine-tune the play, and consequently, Radio Golf accomplishes none of the goals Lahr hoped it would.

Radio Golf , the 1990s chapter of the Wilson saga, features characters unfamiliar to past Wilson plays. Instead of hard-working, embittered have-nots, we get a couple of haves. The play centers around Harmond Wilks, a black entrepreneur born into wealth who, with mayoral aspirations, has plans to revitalize Pittsburgh’s decrepit Hill district with the help of Starbucks, Whole Foods, and Barnes & Noble. He and his business partner, Roosevelt Hicks, play golf, and Harmond’s wife, Mame, is up for a position in the governor’s office.

The only thing holding back the operation is a crazed old man named Elder Joseph Barlow, who claims ownership of the run-down 1839 Wylie Avenue that is about to be demolished for the new apartment complex. As Barlow’s claim increasingly gains legitimacy, Harmond is faced with a political and ethical decision he does not initially see coming.

Wilson’s greatest strength was his impeccably precise dialogue. Although some clumsy phrases appear in the first act, Wilson’s intermittently brutal and hilarious dialogue throughout the first act enhances a building plot, and by intermission, the play leaves a lot of hope for a gripping conclusion.

Unfortunately, the play collapses so disastrously in the second act that it’s almost painful to watch. The main problem stems from Harmond’s maniacal decision to attempt to save the house and ruin his career. Although such a decision may be in line with the spiritualism of Wilson’s past works, it feels entirely out of place in a play set in the ’90s.

In the past, Wilson possessed a remarkable ability to understand the strengths and weaknesses of his characters. It’s depressing, then, to see him misjudge his characters to such a degree. It’s not only Harmond, as Roosevelt inexplicably turns from an ambitious right-hand man to a racist robber baron, and Mame decides to leave Harmond, then to stay with him, then to leave him again without reason over the course of one monologue. Add that factor to that the fact that the play languishes about 45 minutes too long, and we’ve got a bona fide flop on our hands.

It may seem fair to give Radio Golf the same treatment as Eyes Wide Shut and attribute the work’s faults to the creator’s death before the its completion. However, as much as it pains me to say it, I’m not sure if even Wilson could have saved Radio Golf. Wilson’s ability to find a spiritual realm in American life seems out of date, as there’s not much mysticism in the corporate America of 1997. Aunt Esther, the lynchpin of Wilson’s vision for the cultural folklore of African Americans, died in the 1980s (see King Hedley II). The Goodman’s bulletin says that one of the aims of the play was to show how Harmond and Roosevelt struggle with the lack of a sense of African tradition. Yet, by the end of Radio Golf, the play seems less like the work of a lost heritage and more like the work of a playwright who has run out of ideas.

Regardless of the quality of the play, however, it would be irresponsible for a theater company like the Goodman to forgo the completion of Wilson’s cycle if given the opportunity. Thus, director Kenny Leon was put in the impossible position of celebrating the career of a fantastic playwright with the playwright’s weakest work.

Not surprisingly, the brightest spot in the cast is Anthony Chisholm as Barlow, the character most in tune with Wilson’s strengths. Hassan El-Amin tries his hardest to make his character believable, but as with the rest of those working on the production, his best effort is not good enough to salvage the play. In terms of effort, the one exception has to be Michole Briana White as Mame; White’s robotic motion and confused delivery was so amateurish, you had to wonder what that type of performance was doing at the Goodman.

While I’m sure it’s not what Wilson had in mind when writing Radio Golf, the story of a highly successful man with everything going for him who inexplicably gives everything away seems, in retrospect, a bit autobiographical. It’s a shame that such a remarkable career–one of the best American drama has ever seen–should leave such a bitter taste in our mouths.

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