I have a lot to catch up, so I'll start off by going through some theatre I've seen recently, from most recent into the past. Last Wednesday (4/21), I saw the Roundabout Theatre's Twentieth Century, on 42nd St, with Alec Baldwin and Anne Heche. It was a cute little situation comedy, with mixed identities and
trickery. The cast was fine, and the set very elaborate: its was all inside a train, and the compartments moved side-to-side on the stage giving greater focus to different sections. It was fun, but nothing more.
The day before, Tuesday (4/20) I went with a couple of friends to see Embedded, by Tim Robbins, at The Public Theater. He got some pretty harsh criticism and some rave reviews, and the run had been extended twice, so I was curious. I wasn't blown away, but it was a great night of theater, of using the theatrical medium and devices to really lay bare some of the things the other media don't allow us to experience as well. Perhaps the best example, was a very short scene, in which a soldier in Iraq faces the audience, where a suspect might be, and opens fire with his machine gun in our direction. While a movie might provide us that experience, only the theatre can provide an actual human in front of us, his eyes a mixture of fear, surprise and hatred, and the lights burning our eyes as he sprays us with bullets. The play follows several storylines, those of several soldiers, including Jen-Jen Ryan (a stand in for Jessica Lynch), several embedded reporters with different postures towards the process, and the pyramid of power, "The Office of Special Plans" composed of Dick (Cheney), Woof (Paul Wolfowitz), Pearly White (Richard Pearle), Cove (Karl Rove), Gondola (Condi Rice), and Rum-Rum (Don Rumsfeld). Noticeably, and purposefully absent, is W. Tim Robbins said "Satire should make you laugh and scare the hell out of you." And it certainly did both. The power-mongers in masks make us laugh because they're silly, venerating Leo Strauss and suggesting Bush get a crown, but also because despite their silliness they are believable, as when they tell the French to go fuck themselves or conspire to manipulate public opinion. We're in Jen-Jen's room when she tries to get her story straight, in face of the made-for-movie story the military tried to cast. The Sargent who trains the embedded journalists and keeps them in-line, also has a passion for muscial theatre.
Colonel Hardchannel says it won't be hard to manipulate elections in Gomorra, after all it was easy enough in the Sunshine State. But otherwise, the military are protrayed by the soldiers, their camaradery, their fear, their relations with their family, and their desire to go home. The play made me laugh and re-mobilized me to beat Bush. At the end, I stood up, to thank a good performance and to pay respect to actors who put on a politically charged play in a time when dissent is becoming more acceptable again, but is still only tolerated in moderation.
Lastly, I have to refer the production of Flowers for Algernon I saw at Theatre Three, some two weeks ago. It was one of the best productions I've seen at Theatre Three. The staging, lighting, and the music by Jennifer Testa, were all outstanding. But my attention was drawn to the stage and the acting. Having read the book, I knew how Charley Gordon's process depended so much on the change in language as was curious to see that translated on stage. Heath Cohen did an outstanding job, from the fidgetty dim-witted Charley to the furiously intellectual later on. So perfect is his contrast that one cannot help but me moved by his loss towards the end of the play. We are beside him every step of his development and self-discovery, and later with his pan at he begins to know how people really feel towards him (the bakers as something to laugh at, the doctors as an object of research) and then the pain as he realizes he will loose what he has gained. But he is not afraid to die or to live, only to not have lived.
I was also fortunate to have seen Daniel Keyes at Theatre Three. But those comments are for another time.
trickery. The cast was fine, and the set very elaborate: its was all inside a train, and the compartments moved side-to-side on the stage giving greater focus to different sections. It was fun, but nothing more.
The day before, Tuesday (4/20) I went with a couple of friends to see Embedded, by Tim Robbins, at The Public Theater. He got some pretty harsh criticism and some rave reviews, and the run had been extended twice, so I was curious. I wasn't blown away, but it was a great night of theater, of using the theatrical medium and devices to really lay bare some of the things the other media don't allow us to experience as well. Perhaps the best example, was a very short scene, in which a soldier in Iraq faces the audience, where a suspect might be, and opens fire with his machine gun in our direction. While a movie might provide us that experience, only the theatre can provide an actual human in front of us, his eyes a mixture of fear, surprise and hatred, and the lights burning our eyes as he sprays us with bullets. The play follows several storylines, those of several soldiers, including Jen-Jen Ryan (a stand in for Jessica Lynch), several embedded reporters with different postures towards the process, and the pyramid of power, "The Office of Special Plans" composed of Dick (Cheney), Woof (Paul Wolfowitz), Pearly White (Richard Pearle), Cove (Karl Rove), Gondola (Condi Rice), and Rum-Rum (Don Rumsfeld). Noticeably, and purposefully absent, is W. Tim Robbins said "Satire should make you laugh and scare the hell out of you." And it certainly did both. The power-mongers in masks make us laugh because they're silly, venerating Leo Strauss and suggesting Bush get a crown, but also because despite their silliness they are believable, as when they tell the French to go fuck themselves or conspire to manipulate public opinion. We're in Jen-Jen's room when she tries to get her story straight, in face of the made-for-movie story the military tried to cast. The Sargent who trains the embedded journalists and keeps them in-line, also has a passion for muscial theatre.
Colonel Hardchannel says it won't be hard to manipulate elections in Gomorra, after all it was easy enough in the Sunshine State. But otherwise, the military are protrayed by the soldiers, their camaradery, their fear, their relations with their family, and their desire to go home. The play made me laugh and re-mobilized me to beat Bush. At the end, I stood up, to thank a good performance and to pay respect to actors who put on a politically charged play in a time when dissent is becoming more acceptable again, but is still only tolerated in moderation.
Lastly, I have to refer the production of Flowers for Algernon I saw at Theatre Three, some two weeks ago. It was one of the best productions I've seen at Theatre Three. The staging, lighting, and the music by Jennifer Testa, were all outstanding. But my attention was drawn to the stage and the acting. Having read the book, I knew how Charley Gordon's process depended so much on the change in language as was curious to see that translated on stage. Heath Cohen did an outstanding job, from the fidgetty dim-witted Charley to the furiously intellectual later on. So perfect is his contrast that one cannot help but me moved by his loss towards the end of the play. We are beside him every step of his development and self-discovery, and later with his pan at he begins to know how people really feel towards him (the bakers as something to laugh at, the doctors as an object of research) and then the pain as he realizes he will loose what he has gained. But he is not afraid to die or to live, only to not have lived.
I was also fortunate to have seen Daniel Keyes at Theatre Three. But those comments are for another time.
posted by André Levy @ 7:21 PM
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