The Fifth Wall

Theater: New Shows (February 7-13)

2012-02-06T18:14:00.000-08:00

The Great White Whale of the week is Death of a Salesman. I can't seem to get excited about it, despite its pedigree―or maybe because of it. Dream teams and supergroups can be averse to risk. I'm more excited about the resurrected Bleecker Street Theater, where a loose adaptation of Moby Dick gets revived: And God Created Great Whales, a modernist mixed-media opera that I was sad to miss back in 2000.

Rinde Eckert and Nora Cole swim the whirlpool of madness
in And God Created Great Whales
(photo: Caleb Wertenbaker)

And God Created Great Whales
where: Bleecker Street Theater
first night: Tuesday, Feb. 7
This musical drama, which premiered in 2000, dives into the mind of a composer who's fighting dementia by trying to write an opera based on Moby Dick. The show's creator, Rinde Eckert, has a radical style that's closer to modern opera than musical theater. Its challenging style is matched by the reward.

Death of a Salesman
where: Ethel Barrymore Theater
first night: Monday, Feb. 13
Arthur Miller's Everyman tragedy fits the Great Recession better than the Internet boom of '99, when it was last revived. This time, Mike Nichols directs a heavy cast, built around Philip Seymour Hoffman, Linda Emond, and Andrew Garfield (star of this summer's Spider-Man reboot) as the unhappy Loman family.

Hurt Village
where: Signature Center
first night: Tuesday, Feb. 7
Set during a long Memphis summer, this show offers a finely-tuned social conscience with faint echos of A Raisin in the Sun. A family prepares to move from a housing project to a more hopeful life, with a focus on a veteran who unexpectedly returns from Iraq. FYI, playwright Katori Hall also wrote The Mountaintop.

The Inexplicable Redemption of Agent G
where: Theater Row
first night: Tuesday, Feb. 7
The Vampire Cowboys take an irreverent approach to genre work that's common on cable TV: horror, sci-fi, action―you know, the fun stuff! Their latest comedy is an Asian spy thriller with a revenge subplot, offering plenty of over-the-top violence while lampooning race and sex. Not to be missed!

Merrily We Role Along
where: City Center
first night: Wednesday, Feb. 8
This Sondheim musical has earned revisions and a higher reputation since bombing its 1981 Broadway premiere. Based, incidentally, on a 1930s Kaufman/Hart drama, Merrily follows a Hollywood bigwig backwards through his life to his happy beginnings as a Broadway composer.

The Navigator
where: WorkShop Theater
first night: Thursday, Feb. 9
A victim of the Great Recession finds the answers to all his problems coming from his car's navigation system. The plot sounds like whimsical fun―who hasn't wondered what that GPS voice could tell us? Hopefully, the light comedy sci-fi concept will move past simple sitcom territory to somewhere unexpected.

Poetic License
where: 59E59
first night: Thursday, Feb. 9
Though Poetic License is billed as a campus drama on the subjects of plagiarism and the scourge of publish-or-perish, a plot summary makes it sound more like a domestic drama with college trappings. A daughter returns home to introduce her new boyfriend to her poet laureate father and to spill a few secrets.

Rated P for Parenthood
where: Westside Upstairs
first night: Wednesday, Feb. 8
This domestic comedy treats the delights and hardships of parenting, from conception to college, in 90 minutes. Something about this show smells iffy―maybe because the press release says it's contains “giant doses of heart and humor”. Maybe I'm just cynical after 6 exhausting months as a father?

Venus in Fur
where: Lyceum Theater
first night: Tuesday, Feb. 7
One of the most electrifying American plays of the last decade shifts venues to continue its Broadway run. The battery that gives the play its special charge is Nina Arianda, who gives a nearly impossible role (dumb ingenue to smart cookie to dominatrix to Goddess) a soul. Go see this one.

Last chance!
Menders
where: The Gym at Judson
read my review

Science-Fiction Theater: Menders

2012-02-05T13:18:00.000-08:00

(credit: Justin Hoch)

Flux Theater Ensemble at the Gym at Judson
written by Erin Browne
directed by Heather Cohn

In a catastrophic future, a young woman patrols the wall that keeps undesireables out of her city. To pass the time, her mentor tells her and her cousin parables with a slightly subversive tone, though the heroine can't say quite how. Erin Browne's self-serious drama expresses furious frustration over the political repression of homosexuality and a fearful depiction of how totalitarian states force its citizens to betray themselves by informing on others. But her dystopia is less like A Handmaid's Tale than The Hunger Games, substituting simple anti-authoritarianism for a more complex worldview and twisting the plot in obvious directions. Director (Heather Cohn) and dramaturg (Annie-Sage Whitehurst) should also have cut the recitations of Frost's “Mending Wall”. But these are faults of youth, forgivable with good performances (especially Matt Archambault) and a compelling design (Cory Rodriguez, who designs the set's walls slide ominously under their own power). Menders has the sincere intensity of a young company with something noble to say.

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Menders plays at the Gym at Judson, closing on February 11. Tickets?

Broadway: Wit

2012-02-01T15:45:00.000-08:00

photo credit: Joan Marcus

MTC at the Friedman Theater

written by Margaret Edson

directed by Lynne Meadow

January 27, 2012

Cynthia Nixon sheds the glamour of her Sex and the City fame in her latest Broadway appearance. For the sharp, gripping revival of Wit, Nixon has shaved her hair clean off—scalp, eyebrows, and all—and her sole costume is a hospital gown that shows off not svelte calves capped by Manolos but spindly legs and bare feet. Nixon has spent most of the last decade-plus onstage in safe, middlebrow respectability, epitomized by her Rabbit Hole turn as a grieving mother, a role that was pure award bait (it won her the '05 Tony and Nicole Kidman an Oscar nomination in '10). Wit, with its cancer-battle plot, would seem to be more of the same. But Nixon and director Lynne Meadow prove that Margaret Edson's drama deserves its Pulitzer; the show, in turn, pushes them to find new vigor, intelligence, and boldness in themselves

In treating a woman dying of cancer, Wit refuses to fall back on the emotional safety of melodrama. The central role lets a middle-aged actress display dry humor, rigorous intellect, and the independence of a woman who's foregone a family for her career and excelled without apology. Nixon relishes the part. Maybe it's out of respect for the subject, but she avoids probing the character's emotional wounds (her usual approach to stagework) until the play's final scenes, when the displays of feeling have been earned. Meadow also refrains from her typically maximal style of direction: instead, she presents a black stage with a few skeletally white pillars, an absence of sound effects, and a finely clipped pace. This last quality, plus the work's intellectual rigor, makes the 100-minute, intermissionless drama neither exhausting nor brooding. Wit confronts the fact of human suffering with strength and proves itself a substantial drama.

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Wit plays at the Friedman Theater, closing on March 11. Tickets?

Theater: New Shows (January 30-February 6)

2012-01-30T14:05:00.000-08:00

More than a dozen shows debut this week, over half of which make my to-see list. That includes my favorite play by Brecht; a rarely-seen Jacobean drama; three Euro classics from the dark, early half of the last century; a camp musical revival; new plays, musicals & anthologies by modern writers… and my Pick of the Week, The Ugly One, a German import, because I'm always fascinated to see what's big on Europe's stages.

Blood Knot

where: Signature Center

first night: Tuesday, Jan. 31

Check out the inaugural show at a new Off-Broadway space: the Pershing Square Signature Center (nowhere near Pershing Square itself, confusingly). Signature mounts a seminal work of African theater, the 1961 biracial drama of South African Athol Fugard, starring Wooster Groupie Scott Shepherd.

Carrie

where: MCC at the Lucille Lortel Theater

first night: Tuesday, Jan. 31

A cult classic of musical theater, Carrie became the epitome of Broadway flops after an eviscerating review from Frank Rich. Yes, you read that right: a musical, adapted from the Stephen King novel and subsequent movie about a misfit teen whose latent telekinesis comes out after one humiliation too many.

Professor Bernhardi

where: Marvell Rep at the TBG Complex

first night: Tuesday, Jan. 31

A young woman has septic poisoning after an illegal abortion; a Jewish surgeon gets pilloried first for her treatment and then for her death. This century-old Viennese work provoked protests and bans for obvious reasons. These Ibsenite dramas can be dusty, but feel so modern if they're done right.

Galileo

where: Classic Stage Company

first night: Wednesday, Feb. 1

One of my favorite plays! Bertolt Brecht takes apart the legend of the scientist's confrontation with the Catholic Church, taking stock of the historical forces involved but also the human motives behind both heroism and capitulation. F. Murray Abraham, in the lead, will likely bring out Galileo's gusto.

The Ugly One

where: Soho Rep

first night: Wednesday, Feb. 1

The best company Off-Broadway, year in/year out, introduces New York to one of Germany's hottest playwrights, Marius von Mayenburg. This provocateur satirizes image and identity in his pocket-drama, which has an engineer learn that his promising career has stalled because he's incredibly bad-looking.

The Urban Dictionary Plays

where: Ars Nova

first night: Wednesday, Feb. 1

Every year, Ars Nova puts together an anthology of punchy shorts on a quirky pop-culture subject by next-big-thing playwrights, some of whom will surely be lost to TV by the calendar's end. This season, the youngsters' inspiration is the Urban Dictionary, that crowd-sourced reference tool/time-suck.

Assistance

where: Playwrights Horizons

first night: Friday, Feb. 3

Leslye Headland surprised everyone (except literary managers, maybe) by debuting a gleefully dark comedy in Bachelorette a few summers ago. Let's hope her follow-up—a satire that covers an office of personal assistants to a capitalist magnate—has the same bold ability to revel in youthful misbehavior.

Lost on the Natchez Trace

where: Abingdon Theater

first night: Friday, Feb. 3

This two-actor play hits upon a scene fraught with potential: in swampland Mississippi, an injured auctioneer is found on an old Indian trail by a runaway slave. The tricky goal of this type of historical drama is to be neither too melodramatic nor too discursive, and to avoid soothing resolutions.

Lovesick, or Things That Don't Happen

where: 59E59

first night: Friday, Feb. 3

Aiming to be your Valentine's date, 59E59 programs this collection of love stories and love songs. It looks like Lovesick takes a romcom approach to romance, with pretty young people getting steamed up or steamy about sex. Hopefully, the creators will also delve into the more kinky and cynical aspects of amour.

Rutherford and Son

where: Mint Theater Company

first night: Saturday, Feb. 4

That rare treasure: a true lost classic by a female playwright (and a favorite of Emma Goldman!). The broad strokes sound like an English family melodrama—a northern industrialist disagrees with his son about how to save the firm—but it's remarkably attuned to class, sex, mortal, and even regional conflicts.

The Broken Heart

where: Theater for a New Audience at the Duke on 42nd Street

first night: Saturday, Feb. 4

An aristo undermines his sister's romance; an ingenue cuckolds her angry old husband. This may be Sparta, but it looks a lot more like the decadent Jacobean theater. Post-Shakespeare playwright John Ford wrote Tis Pity She's a Whore; his rarely-produced Heart sounds a bit less bloody but just as cynical.

Tokio Confidential

where: Atlantic Stage 2

first night: Sunday, Feb. 5

The heroine's name is Isabel Archer, the period is the Gilded Age, but if Tokio Confidential adapts Portrait of a Lady, it's hard to see the resemblance from a summary. In this modernist musical, American abroad Archer visits Japan, where she falls into the floating world of Tokyo's pleasure quarter.

A Map of Virtue

where: Fourth Street Theater

first night: Monday, Feb. 6

Not the only work of horror to debut this week (see Carrie), but this play sounds authentically creepy and not campy. It's that old standby: a group of friends stranded in the woods at midnight, unable to agree on what they saw. Compellingly, it's billed as a “symmetrical story”—what could that mean?

The Threepenny Opera

where: Marvell Rep at the TBG Complex

first night: Monday, Feb. 6

Two Brecht revivals in one week!? Mac the Knife's opinion must seem pointed and current to Marvell Rep: “Which crime is worse, robbing a bank or founding one?” Threepenny epitomizes the master playwright for most people, with its Weimar aesthetics, socialist politics, and alienated theatrical style.

Last chance!

The Canterbury Tales Remixed

where: Soho Playhouse

Close Up Space

where: City Center Stage I

The Fall to Earth

where: 59E59

Gob's Squad's Kitchen (You've Never Had It So Good)

where: The Public Theater

Instinct

where: Theater Row

LEO

where: Theater Row

Mission Drift

where: The Connelly Theater

Outside People

where: Vineyard Theater

Untitled Feminist Show

where: Baryshnikov Arts Center

Shakespeare Notebook: Richard III

2012-01-26T19:05:00.000-08:00

The Bridge Project at BAM
written by William Shakespeare
directed by Sam Mendes
January 20, 2012
From his openingmonologue, when he thwacks the brace on his leg as if disgusted athis own frailty, Kevin Spacey plays Shakespeare's twisted duke as aman crippled by self-loathing. He snarls defensively at his mother,who holds a Freudian power over him by neither loving him nordisowning him. He stumbles at his own coronation then smacks the handthat lends assistance. And in the character's final, nightmaresoliloquy, when he claims, “Richard loves Richard”, he weeps athis lack of conviction. In Spacey's rich psychologicalinterpretation, Richard's malignance, as well as his superhumanenergy, is a displacement of self-hatred upon the world. He's quickto get offended—you've rarely seen such a sensitive Richard. It'sas if, despite all those soliloquies, Richard can't let himselfreflect or he'll realize he's both the source and ultimate object ofhis fury.

Kevin Spacey kills as Richard III
photo credit: Joan Marcus

Maybeto set off the ferocity of Spacey's performance, the rest of thisRichardIIIis restrained and balanced. Sam Mendes takes his direction from theplay's first word: “Now”, populating the English court withmodern politicians who preen for photo ops in double-vented suits.The Republican presidential campaign will see its reflection in thevicious in-fighting of the House of York. Richard's ally Buckingham(Chuk Iwuji, smooth) is recast as a campaign manager, buildingsupport by smearing rivals and staging rallies filled withsanctimony. Butlike most of Mendes' stagework, the show's execution lacksphysicality. It doesn't help that the stagedesign, like so many in modern theater, could serve for any ofShakespeare's dramas. A dozen actors enter from as many doors;thumped drums designate martial moments and synthesizers eerie ones.Fortunately, Mendes' cool approach and conventional design makeSpacey's fierce performance look even stronger.

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Spacey'ssingular take on Richard Crookback reminds me of one pleasure ofShakespeare: each play's unending yield of new themes and approaches.Till this production, I never saw how Shakespeare uses the Christianconcept of doomsday in Richard.The Endtime is on everyone's mind, from the murderers who worry aboutJudgment Day to Richard himself, who swears by “the time to come”(IE the afterlife). The accumulation of apocalyptic referencescontribute to the play's tone and filter deep into the structure. Itturns the climactic battle into Armageddon, recasting Richard asSatan and Richmond (AKA Henry Tudor) as Christ. Richmond uses therhetoric of holy war, he wages battle on behalf of peace, and heushers into the kingdom an era of harmony. Just as Armageddon wouldbe the end of history, RichardIIIends Shakespeare's first tetrology of history plays. So itseschatological structure is probably deliberate.
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Shakespearewrote Richardearly in his career, which seems obvious when you notice how clumsyand self-conscious he can be about applying poetic devices. The openingspeech breaks easily into stanzas, each beginning with “Now” andthen with “I, who…”; Richard and Lady Anne fall into astichomythic pattern, underscoring the success of his seduction;Margaret's curse grows more and more formal, to suggest a ritual'sornate power; and all these examples come from act one! EvenRichard's great post-nightmare soliloquy has a mannered quality thatshows the playwright is still rough in approximating spoken thoughts.
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RichardIII plays at the BAMHarvey Theater (651 Fulton Street), closing on March 4. Tickets?

New Shows (January 24-30)

2012-01-23T12:22:00.000-08:00

How I Learned to Drive may be touching,
but it's what they call a 'bad touch'
(photo: Tim Klein)

Two of the worst shows in Broadway's fall season—On a Clear Day… and Relatively Speaking—finally give up the ghost. And after a thirteen year run, so does the bachelorette and gay fave, Naked Boys Singing. Meanwhile, young playwrights make a strong showing Off-B'way with the similarly titled Rx and CQ/CX. My Pick of the Week, unexpectedly, is a musical: Myths and Hymns, a piece of Holy Theater from a rising company.

CQ/CX

where: Atlantic Theater at the Signature

first night: Wednesday, Jan. 25

A reporter at the New York Times gets busted for plagiarism. CQ/CX is based closely on the Jayson Blair scandal. Current events can provide great material for drama, but it's also easy to flatten them into a chronicle or morality. So it's good to hear that this show addresses race as well as media culture.

HowI Learned to Drive

where: Second Stage Theater

first night: Tuesday, Jan. 24

Despite being an unconventionally poignant drama about incest, Paula Vogel's drama seemed to get programmed by every regional theater once it won the Pulitzer in '98. Drive crowned a great decade for Vogel, but will it hold up now that her offbeat, intimate style has been rendered conventional?

Inadmissible

where: Canal Street Playhouse

first night: Wednesday, Jan. 25

The process behind college admissions is a fat target for satire, not just because the tuition bubble continues to inflate but because the committees' operations are so opaque and probably conspiratorial. This three-actor comedy promises that an element of tragedy will add dramatic substance to the comedy.

Myths and Hymns

where: Prospect Theater Company at the West End Theater

first night: Saturday, Jan. 28

Adam Guettel (A Light in the Piazza) has been revising this revue for over a decade, since it debuted as Saturn Returns at the Public in '98. Based on Greco-Roman myth and a Christian hymnal, the piece is staged by the Prospect Theater, who are building a strong rep Off-B'way with their challenging musicals.

where: Primary Stages at 59E59

first night: Tuesday, Jan. 24

A chemical romance, just in time for Valentine's Day. An office drone joins the clinical trial for a new anti-depressant, while her doctor has begun a regimen that targets heartbreak. Hopefully, Rx digs into our culture's zeal for mood-altering pills rather than simply moralizing against it, as too many plays do.

Last chance!

Advance Man

where: The Secret Theater

read my review

The Canterbury Tales Remixed

where: Soho Playhouse

Chimera

where: Here Arts Center

Chinglish

where: Longacre Theater

Dancing at Lughnasa

where: Irish Repertory Theater

A Hole in His Heart

where: Atlantic Stage 2

How the World Began

where: Women's Project at Playwrights Horizons

It's Always Right Now, Until It's Later

where: St. Ann's Warehouse

Naked Boys Singing

where: New World Stages

On a Clear Day You Can See Forever

where: St. James Theater

One Thousand Blinks

where: 59E59

Relatively Speaking

where: Atkinson Theater

Sci-Fi Theater: Advance Man

2012-01-22T19:31:00.000-08:00


Here come the Martian Martians! credit: Deborah Alexander

Advance Man

The Secret Theater

written by Mac Rogers

directed by Jordana Williams

January 13, 2012

When you trek out to Long Island City for a play about the first manned mission to Mars, you don't expect to see a beige living-room onstage. Instead of interplanetary action, Advance Man lifts its plot from a 1950s B-movie about pod people infiltrating suburbia. A housewife suspects her husband, the all-American captain of that Mars-shot, of an extramarital affair. But the truth is scarier: he and his crew have invited an insectoid race to save civilization from itself. Are they helping to found a planetary utopia or delivering humanity into slavery? Will all individuality be lost to a hive mind—and is that a bad thing? Part of the appeal of Advance Man's ambiguities is the knowledge that it's just the first play of The Honeycomb Trilogy; the plot will thicken with Blast Radius in April, and all questions will (hopefully) be answered by Sovereign in June.

As the first act of a longer drama, Advance Man suffers from the necessity of delivering backstory. The solution should be to establish a strong tone. And Mac Rogers' script tries to balance domestic melodrama—a troubled marriage, a hellion daughter—with sci-fi thriller. But director Jordana Williams doesn't exploit the seepage of weirdness into a suburban living room. And like even the most classic of '50s B-movie SF, the quality of performance is uneven. Fortunately, the pivotal roles go to the most consistently strong actors: Sean Williams (that gee-whiz captain), Becky Byers (his rebellious daughter), Abraham Makany (a surly astronaut). And Jason Howard steals the show as the victim of a mysterious accident on Mars. As his character's secrets come out, Advance Man picks up the pace. With the Martian invasion underway, part two is more likely to be fun theater, for sci-fi fans at least. Hopefully, it'll leave the living room behind.

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Advance Man plays at the Secret Theater (44-02 23rd Street), closing on January 29. Tickets?

Sci-Fi Theater: World of Wires

2012-01-18T20:42:00.000-08:00


They're not real, they're actors

World of Wires
The Kitchen
adapted & directed by Jay Scheib
January 12, 2012

More sci-fi theater! But unlike last week's accessible apocalypse, World of Wires is theatrically challenging and philosophically abstruse. Jay Scheib, the It Boy of experimental theater, has adapted and directed a 1970s German TV film by Fassbinder, which itself was based on a '60s SF paperback. Every version of the work worries over the conceit that, if a computer were powerful enough and a program sophisticated enough, a simulated environment would be indistinguishable from reality itself. It follows a computer scientist who begins to suspect that his life is as artificial as any he's programmed. Scheib may be scratching his head over the existential implications, but fortunately he doesn't let his confusion show onstage. The source material keeps him grounded, because despite its futuristic trappings, the plot of this piece is patterned on film noir, with a missing person, a dead body, a mysterious blonde, and a political conspiracy.

With a solid story for his foundation, Scheib is free to apply the disorienting devices of modern experimental theater. He literally digitizes his actors by shadowing them with a camera and feeding the video to flatscreens onstage. He directs the cast to deliver their dialogue flatly but otherwise to perform with breakneck activity and sensual vivacity. He skews the sense of place and perspective with a set (designed by Sara Brown) that deliberately obscures which level of simulated reality a scene plays out on. Maybe Scheib's only significant error is that he paces his show at a constant level of hyperactivity, which becomes exhausting. The source material, meanwhile, finally fails him by wrapping up a little too optimistically, given its noir echoes and the adaptation's ironic posturing. But otherwise, World of Wires couches its forward-looking philosophy perfectly in an idiom of theatrical futurism.

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World of Wires plays at the Kitchen (512 West 19th Street), closing on January 21. Tickets?

Theater: New Shows (January 17-23)

2012-01-16T17:25:00.000-08:00


The Gob Squad make like Anna Karina at the Public in Kitchen

Despite the day off, it's a working week for the theater. I enjoyed the Gob Squad a few weeks ago in Super Night Shot, so I'm curious to see more from them. But I'm more excited about the audacious five-hour epic These Seven Sicknesses. The Flea Theater stages all seven masterpieces by the great Sophocles, inventor of the three-actor drama!

Russian Transport
where: Theater Row
first night: Tuesday, Jan. 17
'90s comic star Janeane Garofalo makes her legit stage debut in this family drama. A family of hard-working Russian immigrants, settled in Sheepshead Bay, reckons with a charismatic uncle from the old country. It's a rare appearance by the under-represented side of the modern Brooklyn experience.

Yosemite
where: Rattlestick Theater
first night: Wednesday, Jan. 18
It's hard to capture the grandeur of the American West inside a theater, but this show might have the right angle. It sounds like a crime thriller as well as a family drama: three brothers head into the snowy mountain night to bury a secret. Oddly, though titled Yosemite, it's set in the Sierra Nevadas...

Gob Squad's Kitchen
where: The Public Theater
first night: Thursday, Jan. 19
The Gob Squad, a puckish troupe of German and British performance artists, revives their 2011 look at Andy Warhol. With the provocative subtitle You've Never Had It So Good, this whimsical show reconstructs the raw films that the white-haired guru of pop made when his Factory was the hottest spot in New York's art scene.

A Hole in His Heart
where: Atlantic Stage 2
first night: Thursday, Jan. 19
Written by a young actor, Hole tackles the drive for fame and those who get left behind as success beckons. A charged reunion leads a young couple to re-examine the choices they've made and desires that drive them. Theatergoers interested in small, independent plays might be interested in this drama.

Menders
where: The Gym at Judson Memorial Church
first night: Thursday, Jan. 19
The two sides of a wall―protection vs. incarceration―is the theme of this futuristic-sounding drama. Two young men are “menders”, repairing the wall that keeps their city safe. They also enjoy the strange tales of the world beyond, until one is inspired to hop the fence.

Psycho Therapy
where: Cherry Lane Theater
first night: Thursday, Jan. 19
Lily's fiancé blows off couples therapy, so she brings an ex instead. Naturally, all three end up on the couch, in one permutation or another. Hopefully, the show's approach is more in the screwball style than squeaky clean like a modern romcom.

These Seven Sicknesses
where: The Flea Theater
first night: Thursday, Jan. 19
All seven of Sophocles' tragedies in one long, fun night. See Oedipus gouge his eyes out, hold your breath as Antigone get buried alive, and squirm as Odysseus refuses to bandage the suppurating wound of Philoctetes. Dinner is provided for this 5+ hour event―if you've still got your appetite!

Culturemart 2012
where: Here Arts Center
first night: Monday, Jan. 23
Here annually curates this festival of multidisciplinary performance. The selection, by its very design, is impossible to pigeonhole, so check out the full list and bravely select a piece that strikes a chord with you. I'm putting time aside for City Council Meeting, Keep Your Electric Eye on Me, and The Strangest.

Last chance!
Follies
where: Marquis Theater

Miranda
where: Here Arts Center

Samuel and Alasdair: A Personal History of the Robot Wars
where: The New Ohio Theater

what I thought

The Mountaintop

where: Jacobs Theater

World of Wires

where: The Kitchen

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photo credit: David Baltzer

Sci-Fi Theater: Samuel & Alasdair

2012-01-12T11:32:00.000-08:00

Samuel and Alasdair: A History of the Robot Wars

The Mad Ones

January 6, 2012

I'm a sucker for science-fiction onstage, and this month, I'm seeing several plays with sci-fi elements. The first, Samuel and Alasdair: A Personal History of the Robot Wars, may wear its genre in its subtitle but it rejects genre clichés almost entirely. Instead, this show is a tidy piece of naturalism. The action takes place over a 75-minute broadcast of an old-style American variety show made at a Siberian AM radio station. A corny tale of teen brothers competing for the same girl gets interrupted by call-in trivia contests, classic country tunes, and house ads, but also by unsettling power outages and strange sonic feedback. Hints about the recent past coalesce into a version of robot apocalypse. In the alternate history of Samuel and Alasdair, atomic-era robots with death-ray eyes and telescoping limbs destroyed North America sometime in the 1950s.

The trope of a robot uprising is at least as old as the word “robot” itself. But the company, the Mad Ones, offers a fresh take on the modern myth, recounting the fate of humanity through the prism of a few hopeless souls. Conceived by writer/actors Marc Bovino and Joe Curnutte and director Lila Neugebauer, the show rations exposition carefully, describing just enough of the catastrophe outside the station to evoke a sense of global despair. Neugebauer stages the action with quiet minimalism, so that an unobtrusive gesture can tip an unspoken romantic triangle on its end. Her approach encourages the audience to listen carefully and watch actively―so that we notice, for instance, that the most sophisticated piece of technology onstage is a rotary phone. But despite the quiet melancholy, Samuel and Alasdair is holds us rapt. This is a superb, moving drama, and incidentally, poignant science-fiction.

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Samuel and Alasdair: A Personal History of the Robot Wars plays at the New Ohio Theater (154 Christopher Street), closing on January 21. Tickets?

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.12 "Prophecy Girl"

2011-11-16T10:11:00.001-08:00

Parenthood has slowed both my TV watching and my writing. It's way past time to get back into both habits!

1.12 “Prophecy Girl”
broadcast: June 2, 1997
writer: Joss Whedon
director: Joss Whedon

The season finale is early Whedon at his best―not incidentally, it's also his directing debut. He manages the climax of the romantic rectangle with particular elegance: Willow turns Xander down in one emotionally fulfilling scene, and later Xander invites his rival Angel to help him rescue Buffy. Their actions mirror Buffy's maturity in facing the Master despite a deadly prophecy. Her reaction upon hearing that fate is the episode's peak, and her subsequent resurrection feels like a reward. But to evaluate “Prophecy Girl” honestly, the battle royale of the back half feels anticlimactic. The witticisms pale (“Oh look, a bad guy!”?), the combat is hard to follow, and the tentacles that wave from the Hellmouth suggests that the budget has been exhausted. Maybe the over-earnest heroics need more time than they're given. Instead, Whedon spends that time resolving character conflicts, a gesture that sets Buffy apart.

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.11 "Out of Mind Out of Sight"

2011-10-25T11:25:00.000-07:00

Parenthood has slowed both my TV watching and my writing. It's way past time to get back into both habits!

1.11“Out of Mind, Out of Sight”

broadcast:May 19, 1997

writer:Joss Whedon (story) and Ashley Gable & Thomas A. Swindon(teleplay)

director:Reza Badiyi

Non-linear television israre enough that this episode's black/white flashbacks arenoteworthy. But otherwise, where the last episode succeeded byabandoning Buffy'sestablished structure, this one works mostly because it follows theblueprint so well. “Out of Mind” applies the monster-rificmetaphor of invisibility to a high school wallflower. The studentaims to avenge her condition by mutilating Cordelia for herhaughtiness and narcissism, which, coupled with the Hellmouth, hascaused her condition. Her motivations are relatable but ostracismrenders her psychotic (a classroom allusion to Shylock fits in here).But this episode excels in its characterizations. Buffy remembers herpre-Slayer popularity as May Queen and feels like a third wheel inXander and Willow's long friendship. And Cordelia, finallycenterstage, admits to her own streak of alienation but (again likeShylock) uses it to justify her cruelty. In a bonus subplot, aprophecy sets up next week's finale.

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.10 "Nightmares"

2011-08-23T21:27:00.000-07:00

1.10 “Nightmares”

broadcast: May 12, 1997

writer: Joss Whedon (story) & David Greenwalt (teleplay)

director: Bruce Seth Green

Buffy has already flirted with dream-states—think of the fake-out that opens “Teacher's Pet”—but it makes a commitment in “Nightmares.” The plot is an afterthought, almost a means to an end: a comatose Little Leager accidentally conjures dreams into reality. The episode's tension, and it gets intense, is seeing what the characters truly fear. Some of their arcs are conventionally cathartic, like Xander punching a scary clown. Then there's Buffy's absentee father visiting Sunnydale to explain her role in her parents' divorce. Their conversation is staged without even a touch of surrealism; it's hard to tell whether it happened or not. The scene may be Gellar's strongest performance in all seven seasons. Plotwise, on the other hand, “Nightmares” is one of the series' slackest. It's a mirror image to the rest of Season One, abandoning the formula of well-made, socially-driven metaphors for a more formally adventurous style.

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.9 "The Puppet Show"

2011-08-04T17:32:00.000-07:00

1.9 “The Puppet Show”

broadcast: May 5, 1997

writers: Rob Des Hotel & Dean Batali

director: Ellen S. Pressman

Buffy already has shown a gift for final scenes, but the one in this episode—Buffy and pals performing Oedipus very poorly—is especially winsome. This coda typifies the tone of “The Puppet Show”, the series' first episode to go all-out for comedy without compromising on action and thrills. “Show” even cheerfully undercuts Buffy's triumph over this week's monster by showing us the baffled reaction of the new principal (Armin Shimerman as a perfect martinet) to the typically gory scene. The light touch eases the potential silliness of the titular puppet, who's not the predictable demon-doll but a demon-hunter cursed to inhabit a ventriloquist's dummy. That twist is one of the plot's many red herrings, which get turned so deftly they cover for the lack of a social theme. Taken alone, “The Puppet Show” is forgettable fun, but the success of its execution points ahead to better episodes.

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.8 "I Robot, You Jane"

2011-07-23T07:54:00.000-07:00

Most mornings, to warm up my brain I write & edit 150 words — a TV episode, movie, news item, or whatever. Now that I've got Lady Hotspur watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I've decided to post these exercises so you & she can enjoy them too!

1.8 “I Robot, You Jane”
broadcast: April 21, 1997
writer: Ashley Gable & Thomas Swynden
director: Stephen Posey

So far, Willow has gone woefully underdeveloped. But rather than reveal new facets to her personality, this episode simply leverages her established mousiness and tech savvy into a story. The plot follows the template set by “Teacher's Pet”, subbing a paranoia about computer dating for the earlier episode's sexual anxiety. Of the show's social issues, this one has dated worst all around: in concept, special effects, and in its stereotypical computer geeks. But as shaky and cliché as “I Robot” is, on balance it's slightly stronger than “Pet.” The show's voice is more confident, so that Buffy and Xander have a goofy camaraderie as they snoop around a factory. And while Giles extols the value of books in a fine speech, his viewpoint is balanced by his potential love interest, “technopagan” Jenny Calendar. Oh, and this was the first episode of Buffy I ever watched!

Theater: Title Bout (July 19)

2011-07-19T10:44:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings on the week's new plays for Metromix NY. I'm often disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work, so I review their titles. Not the shows, just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listing.

THE PARTING GLASS
It's not a glass that sets apart, it's a glass drunk when people part. The key is that the reference is Irish, and so it has a poetic style that more literal English-speakers might miss. It's actually the title to a 18C folk song that you might recognize; it was interpreted by the Clancy Brothers, Bob Dylan, and the Pogues.

THE SILVER TASSIE
Sean O'Casey came up with this title and drama. I haven't read the play (yet), but I'd guess the title refers to a significant prop or metaphor. A “tassie” is a cup or bowl; it's one of those British words with a whiff of archaism. “Silver” adds value, & conjures the image of something like a grail. As titles go, this is a little vague without context but it's unique and therefore memorable.

THE TEMPLE OF THE GOLDEN PAVILION
Even if you don't know this existential novel by Mishima―or the masterpiece of Kyoto architecture that it refers to―you might suspect it's set in Japan or at least the far East. The title has that non-European structure that doubles up on nouns (it's a temple and a pavilion) and ornaments the subclause delicately. The image is lovely, isn't it?

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.7 "Angel"

2011-07-15T16:40:00.000-07:00

1.7 “Angel”
broadcast: April 14, 1997
writer: David Greenwalt
director: Scott Brazil

Despite its ugly score and the uncharacteristic gunplay at its climax, “Angel” is the first episode to suggest the level of storytelling that Buffy would reach. That's not just because it's the first to complicate the slayer/vampire relationship, to delve into backstory, or to kill a major character. It's not the minor moments like Giles' hospital conversation with Joyce. Partly it's that the driving metaphor is more than a “teen social issue” this time around, it's one actually freighted with stakes (Angel must get over his ex before he can date someone new). Geller's portrayal of Buffy's calf-love for her Byronic stranger makes shocking the otherwise predictable revelation that he's a vampire. Then there's the episode's portentous final beat, where her kiss literally tortures him. Best of all, the episode shows characters who grow and relationships that change, which is why Buffy finds its voice with “Angel”.

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.6 "The Pack"

2011-07-08T11:08:00.000-07:00

1.6 "The Pack"

broadcast: April 7, 1997
writers: Matt Klein & Joe Reinkemeyer
director: Bruce Seth Green

Xander gets a second chance to take center stage in another episode based on high school “issues”. On a zoo trip, he and a gang of bullies get zapped with an animal-possession spell. Their violently feral actions culminate in the gang devouring the principal! As juicy and hardcore as that twist is, the hyena behavior and its use as a metaphor for cliques are both a bit silly (especially the stoner giggles). It only really works when Xander is the focus. His transformation into an asshole is stronger as a real teen concern than simple cliquish bullying — and one that the show will return to. It also takes good advantage of the Buffy-Xander-Willow triangle, especially since it finally gives Willow a substantial role and emotional stakes. And the outcome — that Xander is ashamed at acting on his more caddish impulses, even inadvertently — feels as authentically true to life as anything on Buffy so far.

Theater: Title Bout (June 27)

2011-06-28T11:34:00.000-07:00

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.5 "Never Kill a Boy on the First Date"

2011-06-24T16:06:00.000-07:00

1.5 “Never Kill a Boy on the First Date”
broadcast: March 31, 1997
writer: Rob Des Hotel & Dean Batali
director: David Semel

As a superhero, Buffy is a riff on Peter Parker, where ethical responsibilities frustrate the hero's normal adolescence. This conflict gets dramatized in the series' best episode so far. Buffy's first date with a hunky bookworm becomes a vampire hunt; though everyone survives (except the vampire, of course), she turns down a second date. The basis for her decision gives an extra twist to the Parker Archetype: the problem isn't her secret identity, it's her beau, who's a thrill-seeker and so a danger to himself and others. The episode's plot plays more as a structure to hang the character conflict on than a key development in the season's arc. The bat-like vampire king recruits an “Anointed One” who, according to prophecy, will kill the Slayer. The fake-out — this Anointed One isn't the scripture-quoting psycho vamp but a little kid — is satisfying mainly because we know the truth but Buffy doesn't.

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.4 "Teacher's Pet"

2011-06-17T13:42:00.000-07:00

Most mornings, to warm up my brain I write & edit 150 words on yesterday's entertainment — a TV episode, movie, news item, or whatever. Now that I've got Lady Hotspur watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I've decided to post these exercises so you & she can enjoy them too!

1.4 "Teacher's Pet"
broadcast: March 24, 1997
writer: David Greenwalt
director: Bruce Seth Green

Of all the supporting characters, Xander has made the strongest impression so far. So he's the logical first choice for a focus on the supporting characters. In “Teacher's Pet,” he bumbles into a sexual encounter with a substitute teacher. But, this being Sunnydale, she's actually a human-sized praying mantis who implants her eggs in young male virgins. That's a zesty metaphor for adolescent male sexual anxiety about the mysteries of reproduction and female desire. But the execution, by Greenwalt and Green, is rough. The predictable plot does let Buffy exhibit her intelligence, first by using a vampire as a bloodhound and then by applying her science lessons to defeating the she-mantis. As nicely feminist as this turn is, it shifts the drama away from Xander and leaves his sexual anxiety unresolved. Buffy's dedication to its secondary characters is an admirable strength, but this first example is a poor demonstration.

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.3 "Witch"

2011-05-18T13:55:00.000-07:00

Most mornings, to warm up my brain I write & edit 150 words on yesterday's entertainment — a TV episode, movie, news item, or whatever. Now that I've got Lady Hotspur watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I've decided to post these exercises so you & she can enjoy them too!

1.3 "Witch"
broadcast: March 17, 1997
writer: Dana Reston
director: Stephen Cragg

Part of what makes early Buffy appealing is how it dilutes the teen melodrama by couching them in a comedic-heroic tone. This week's subject is parental pressure on children. Buffy auditions for the cheerleading squad despite her mother's lack of enthusiasm (Joyce was on the yearbook staff). Their conflict parallels another blonde student, who's pressured by her mother, once the pep-squad leader, to excel at an activity she's ill-suited for. This being Sunnydale High, someone uses witchcraft to eliminate the competition, a predictable plot except for one clever turn: the mom has swapped bodies with the daughter! This magic twist makes literal the theme of mothers living through their children—a dramaturgical tactic unavailable to realistic dramas. Still, the plot does resolve itself conventionally (though the witch's fate caps the episode nicely). The richer drama is on the margins, in Joyce's displays of maternal clumsiness and in Xander's bumbling crush on Buffy.

Theater: Title Bout (May 17)

2011-05-17T15:23:00.000-07:00

I MARRIED WYATT EARP
I like this title's confessional, slightly lurid mid-20C quality, like I Was a Teenaged Werewolf. Presuming it's accurate, the title also gives us a period and subject: the legendary lawman of Tombstone, AZ.

THE ILLUSION
As generic as this definite-article/noun title is, the topic can easily send a potential audience down an whimsical avenue in search of the theme. After all, isn't all theater just an illusion? Isn't life? In fact, this is an adaptation of Cornielle's 17C drama L'Illusion comique, usually translated as The Theatrical Illusion. The original French title focuses on genre, not medium, and hints at the illusion's delight.

THE LADY'S NOT FOR BURNING
One of the great titles of 20C drama. It's such an odd statement! Just what transpires in this show that requires clarification about who shouldn't be burnt? Witchcraft, probably, but it does inspire the imagination. And the iambic syncopation makes the title so memorable.

ONE ARM
This title wears its subject on its sleeve; it's a play about an amputee. That missing limb has the potential to be a smart symbol as well.

SHAKESPEARE'S SLAVE
A bit of poetry that Will might appreciate. Every vowel sound is long, with the “ay” echoing across the gap of the “ee”, making it three stressed syllables, and the sibilant “s” acting as glue. As for content, this title conjures a ironic character from the imagination: a slave owned by one of the most compassionate depicters of human nature.

WTC VIEW
The reference to the Twin Towers helps to date this play's period, but so, cleverly, does the allusion to that lapsed style of classified ads. It's a play about an apartment search and roommate situation, with the heavy portent of the terrorist attacks implied as well. Does 9/11 figure in? Even if not, that reference has been activated.

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.2 "The Harvest"

2011-05-14T09:44:00.000-07:00

Most mornings, to warm up my brain I write & edit 150 words on yesterday's entertainment — a TV episode, movie, news item, or whatever. Now that I've got Lady Hotspur watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I've decided to post these exercises so you & she can enjoy them too!

1.2 “The Harvest”
broadcast: March 10, 1997
writer: Joss Whedon
director: John D. Kretchmer

This episode can't stand alone as easily as Part 1 did, mainly because it gets bogged down in exposition and resolution. An okay comedic beat at the climax (“You forgot about sunrise…”) undercuts a sense of Buffy's triumph. And the low point has her trundle through tunnels while the vampires simply lurk in longshot. The pleasures of “The Harvest” are in its supporting characters. The cast fills their roles out nicely, especially Nicholas Brendan as sidekick Xander, who delivers the episode's best lines with great timing. The Master, Buffy's arch-villain, makes a good impression: his origin is Lovecraft and his look is Nosferatu, but his style is as casual as the teens'. And the show all comes together when Buffy's mother grounds her, saying, “Everything is life-or-death when you're a 16-year-old girl”. Then Buffy pulls her slaying paraphernalia from a closet stash and sneaks out the window to save the world.

Buffy Blogthrough: 1.1 "Welcome to the Hellmouth"

2011-05-14T09:39:00.000-07:00

1.1 “Welcome to the Hellmouth”
broadcast: March 10, 1997
writer: Joss Whedon
director: Charles Martin Smith

Originally the pilot was two hours, but it's got two directors and on DVD it's two episodes. Part 1 focuses on Buffy's character and setting, showing a springier step than Part 2. The setting—Sunnydale and its high school—have the genre hallmarks of teen life that go back to Archie Comics (the name of the cool girl, Cordelia, echoes her Archie analogue Veronica). But Buffy stands out in this episode with her courage and confidence. Though she does protest initially against her destiny, she then goes straight to work hunting vampires. Buffy has prior experience as a vampire hunter, but she also already finds her destiny incompatible with her typical teen lifestyle, having been expelled from high school in LA for burning down a gymnasium full of the fiends. Her personality is defined, and her conflict is encapsulated by the show's comedic title: a preppy teen fighting vampires.

Theater: Title Bout (May 10)

2011-05-10T13:20:00.000-07:00

NARRATOR 1
A meta title! Is the show named for its protagonist? Is the subject a duel between Narrators 1 and 2? As promising as that sounds, it also suggests that the show features the device of direct address, which I abhor as undramatic.

THE SHAGGS: PHILOSOPHY OF THE WORLD
The deliberate misspelling of slang with several meanings (among them, longish hair and casual sex), the long, grandiose subclause: if this sounds like a 1960s rock band's album, that's because it is. Only rock cultists will recognize the reference though, to an execrable sister-act that Frank Zappa and later Kurt Cobain dug.

WOMAN BEFORE A GLASS
The words might be generic in other situations instead summon up an image that's enigmatic and compelling. Who is the woman? Why is she looking in a mirror? Or is she in front of a glass cup, and what's in it and why is that significant?

Theater: Title Bout (February 8)

2011-02-09T12:23:00.000-08:00

GOOD PEOPLE
On the face of it, Good People is too gentle to thrill. But something about its flatness suggests a struggle, that its people fall short of being good or that their goodness isn't enough.

IN YOUR IMAGE
A good prepositional phrase extends beyond itself to imply an entire sentence. In this case, the use of the second-person implies even more: a pair of characters. To add more to the puzzle, In Your Image inverts a Biblical allusion, “Let us make Man in our image,” says God(s) in Genesis. It's a bit compelling but also amorphous and a little pompous to boot.

INVASION!
Gotta love that exclamation point! It gives this one-word title an extra kick, turning it into some '50s sci-fi B-movie.

THAT CHAMPIONSHIP SEASON
This title stinks of nostalgia. It's pretty clearly a show about a winning sports team. But unlike In Your Image above, the preposition refers to the clause (i.e. it's a demonstrative pronoun), which makes it a little solipsistic. That's where the nostalgia comes from.

THINNER THAN WATER
Here, the title creates irony by reversing a standard turn-of-phrase. It also cuts the cliché's opening, which makes the reader do a little work. Presumably, the show's about the weaknesses and frustrations of the family bond. But to its credit, the imagery is strong: water, like air, can literally be thin. But by cutting the first half of the cliché & leading with "thinner than", the metaphor of thinness comes as a surprise.

Theater: Title Bout (February 1)

2011-02-01T13:32:00.000-08:00

Every week, I compose listings on the week's new plays for Metromix NY. I'm often disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work, so I'm reviewing their titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listings on Metromix NY.

A PERFECT FUTURE
An optimistic title generally gets rendered ironic by a work's content. Hopefully, the arc of disillusion is traced by a character as well as the audience. But while this title covers the basic structural narrative, it doesn't point beyond that to content, themes, etc. It's good journeyman work but generic.

LA BARBERIA
Hey, that's not English! Our polyglot country doesn't extend far into the theater community, which is pretty damned segregated. Here's a good start: a Latinate word that's very similar in English. So a squeamish ticketbuyer might say, “Oh, this show's about a Hispanic barbershop!” and pluck up courage to see the show.

COMPULSION
That's a fifty-cent word! This writer's got weighty theories about human behavior and has written a drama to investigate them. Hollywood used Compulsion for a 1950s courtroom drama based on the Leopold & Loeb case, to give you some idea of how heavy the word is. Wonder if this is an adaptation?

THE HALLWAY TRILOGY
Someone, maybe a comedian, observed that hallways aren't actually rooms, they're just the space between rooms. So maybe this title means to be existential. Regardless, a triptych about hallways doesn't sound like a thrill. Each play in the trilogy does have its own one-word title. Though as a group they're cryptic, as distinct titles they're a good collection. There's Rose: a flower freighted with symbolism (both Christian & romantic) & a given name besides. Then Paraffin: a rare, fun word that can refer to a common wax (on candles & crayons) and also to kerosene. Part three is Nursing: a gerund―always good, see next entry―that could be caring for an invalid or feeding a baby.

INTERVIEWING THE AUDIENCE
Gerunds tend to work well in titles because they imply an action in the present moment. But interviewing is rarely a thrilling act. Plus, we could stay home & watch it on TV. Finally, even a hint of participation will break the deal for many potential audience members.

THE MAN WHO ATE MICHAEL ROCKEFELLER
This title's fantastic: very specific and memorable. It sets up two characters in a unique relationship. The first complex clause, “The Man Who Ate” adopts the convention of a case-study. That lulls the reader, so that the cannibalism shocks all the more. And the name “Rockefeller” has baggage of its own, implying the filthiest of rich families in America. By extension, the title promises a sort of comeuppance.

MY SCANDALOUS LIFE
This title also follows a conventional form, though it's closer to memoir than case study. As such, it implies a character, one who would call his or her own life “scandalous”. The tenor of the word suggests a perverse pride, even narcissism, which is reinforced by the “My Life” format. Ironically, by following convention, the title belies its subject's claim to scandal.

NEXT
Interesting as one-word titles go. The word looks forward and implies momentum. Also, isolated as it is here and without a referent, it has almost a sinister tone that causes us to wonder, “What is next?“

VIEUX CARRE
A second foreign language in one week! French for “Old Square”, the phrase is another name for the French Quarter in New Orleans. So the title is presumably the play's setting, and it underscores the exotic quality of the location.

THE WII PLAYS
'Wii' being the game console. FYI, I like how the name implies fun (“Wheee!”) and a relationship (“we”). The misspelling is whimsical and probably smart branding. The two lower-case I's look like an abstract pair of kids (the dots representing noggins). So props to Nintendo. This show's title trades on the product, of course―if you don't know what a Wii is, maybe this isn't your show―but it also subtly puns on “play” as both a unit of drama and a verb involving games. Ironically, in this case the console plays the game, not the people!

A WORLD APART
“Apart” does the heavy lifting here. The title could mean that two characters are alien to each other at some point in the play's arc. Or it could mean that the protagonist sees his or her life collapse. These are broad brushstrokes and somewhat introverted in tone. Though it doesn't seem like much, A World Apart has a story to tell.

Glenn Beck is Right! or, My Obligatory Spider-Man Post

2011-01-13T11:55:00.000-08:00

Glenn Beck saw Spider-Man, twice, & it doesn't surprise me too much that he lurved it. He's so obviously into spectacle: think of his beloved blackboards! Whatever his flaws, the man knows that entertaining the crowd helps to get your message across. So yep, he digs opera and he enjoys splashy Broadway musicals like La Cage aux Folles.*

I don't watch or listen to Beck's shows, so this is my first real experience with his straw-man M.O. At one point, he adopts a snooty, vaguely French accent that's meant to be a New York theater critic. Beck-as-critic has never heard of Bono, disparages rock music, and looks down his nose at comic books. Now I'm existential proof that theater critics can enjoy rock music & comics.**

But I also partly agree with Beck's point. For one thing, yes, there are Broadway musicals that rock out. But the genre's stylistic mainstream is still bemoaning how the Beatles edged West Side Story off the Billboard charts. The fact that we still distinguish rock musicals from … what, “conventional musicals”? says something. So does the fact that it took thirty years for punk rock to go from CBGBs to the St. James. And the genre has made few attempts, such as In the Heights, to assimilate hip-hop into its idiom.

And another thing: conventional American drama is still beholden to realism. At its best (like Ruined) it's socially relevant, a throwback to Ibsen; more often, it's domestic dramas like August: Osage County and Rabbit Hole. There are few successful shows that couldn't be translated easily into a movie. In the context of popular American dramas & musicals, a sci-fi superhero work of fantasy like Spider-Man really is alien.

I'm also surprised and impressed at Beck's reading of Spider-Man. He notes the that Spider-Man's powers derive from an atheist scientist's government-funded experiment, then points out that the Daily Bugle's demagoguery supports the scientist & condemns the superhero. Is the show as politically conservative as that? Despite reading the handful of reviews & talking to attendees, I couldn't say. Anyhow, regardless of his accuracy, by putting the show's content into its cultural context, Beck does the job of a critic. That's work that none of the (debatably premature) critics have done; they've mostly just lambasted the show for its dramaturgical problems.

My point is, resistance to Spidey within the theater community is a lot more complex than schadenfreude at the hubris of moneyed producers & starry creators. I have read intelligent theater critic takes Spider-Man down, pointing out valid flaws in the hopes that the critique might change the system, its tastes, & its tendencies. But (apart from Glenn Beck, of all people!) I haven't read or seen anyone celebrating how unconventional Spider-Man is or analyzing its content as well as its style. The circus of money and injuries have distracted us from asking some basic critical questions about the show and its context in the world and community.

Finally, lest you think I've turned coat and become a Glenn Beck booster, here's a final point. The asshole checks his text messages during the show! Then he shows the text message to your wife, so she can cackle at a dramatically weighty moment?! That's some shabby, juvenile behavior.

* Surprised at this? Nah. The show's parody of gayness is broad enough that a conservative can laugh at it rather than with it.

** Here's hoping I can write off my comic book purchases as work-related research this fiscal year!

Theater: Title Bout (January 11)

2011-01-12T13:16:00.000-08:00

Theater: Title Bout (January 4)

2011-01-04T12:55:00.000-08:00

Every week, I compose listings on the week's new plays for Metromix NY. I'm often disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work, so I'm reviewing their titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listings on Metromix NY.

THE ANNIHILATION POINT
Sounds like a sci-fi story―and wouldn't you know, it is! 'Annihilation' is actually one of my favorite words, with its root 'nihil' or 'nothing'. And 'Point' has a Newtonian specificity. I imagine the term to be analogous to 'event horizon'. My point is, it inspires a little imagination if you're inclined to faux-science terminology.

BEIRUT
The location of America's first modern encounter with suicide bombers, Beirut might be the prototypical “war-torn Middle Eastern city” for Americans. Savvy historians will also recall the city was once the Paris of the Middle East. So whether the play is actually set in the titular city or not, the word evokes a concrete image. Better than many cities that could be used in titles.

FREEDOM CLUB
I'm not sure about this one. It sounds like a term George W. Bush would've come up with (“Iraq is now part of the Freedom Club, a coalition of freedom-loving nations.”) or, more likely, a right-wing thinktank. And ironically, it also sounds like the policy they'd come up with: beat our enemies with a freedom club.

GREEN EYES
A generic title that tells us nothing whatsoever about the show. Nor is it specific enough to evoke an image or sensation.

GRUESOME PLAYGROUND INJURIES
The implication of children getting hurt, and badly, has to be quite a turnoff for ticketbuyers―I admire the playwright's willingness to alienate before the show's even started! Sonically, it's pretty good but not great. The 'g' & 'j' sounds echo one another well, & so does the proximity of the 'r' & 'oo' sounds in 'grue-' and '-jur-'. But it lacks syncopation.

HONEY BROWN EYES
A clear improvement on Green Eyes. 'Honey blue eyes' is more standard (though it makes less sense to me), which adds a small cognitive hook to the title. And there's something smart about honoring the most prosaic eye color with poetry.

THE INTERMINABLE SUICIDE OF GREGORY CHURCH
I like this. Like Gruesome Playground Injuries, it dares its audience to see it. It also takes a classic titling structure―“the (adjective) key action of the character”―and adds dark humor. And paradox too: note that the root of 'interminable' is 'terminate', so it's an ending that never ends!

JOHN GABRIEL BORKMAN
Our first 'title = protagonist' of 2011. Ibsen (for he wrote this one) includes the character's middle name. It's an allusion to the Archangel who served as God's messenger (& would blow the trumpet at the Last Judgment). And 'bork' is Norwegian for, uh, 'bark', as of a tree. What's that signify? I dunno.

MEN GO DOWN
This phrase is almost stubbornly ambiguous. Which men? All men? Go down where? To their death, to the seaport, on other men, or what? If it's a quote, it's too obscure to catalog.

THE MILK TRAIN DOESN”T STOP HERE ANYMORE
I'm fond of full-sentence titles. This one implies isolation and decline. A milk train stopped at every podunk station to pick up milk & deliver into the city; obviously, if the milk train no longer stops 'here', it's been abandoned by the outside world.

NEARLY LEAR
A rarity: a clear yet elegant title. This show adapts Shakespeare's Lear, apparently. The triplicate long 'e' leaves no syllable unstressed, while the 'r' & 'l' swap positions from one word to another.

THE NEW YORK IDEA
In the late 19C, the New York Idea referred to the notion that Gotham is the most modern, sophisticated place on Earth. (I believe, but can't prove, that it was actually a term of reverse snobbery by non-NYers.) In circa 1906, Langdon Mitchell took it as the title to his prototypical screwball comedy, which sees rich divorcees celebrating that they can marry for love.

PANTS ON FIRE'S METAMORPHOSIS
Not to be confused with Ovid's Metamorphosis, presumably. Actually, I don't take issue with that distinction. It's the company's name, Pants on Fire, that sinks the title. It's very contempo British theater: past zany to outright inane.

2011 COIL FESTIVAL
I'm not sure what the curators of the Coil Festival intend by the name. 'Coil' isn't an acronym, and it's has no meaning in a theatrical context. I guess it's distinctive & therefore kind of memorable. But mostly it does nothing for me.

2011 CULTUREMART

Culturemart, on the other hand, has a nice ring to it. It implies that it's a one-stop shop for arts culture. But there's a tongue-in-cheek tone that's hard to pinpoint, suggesting that the curators don't support the commodification of art after all.

2011 UNDER THE RADAR FESTIVAL
From experience, I can tell you that this showcase offers more imagination than its title implies. 'Under the radar' is such a cliché that it comes across as crass, clumsy marketing. The curators would do well to consider changing it.

Theater: Title Bout (December 14)

2010-12-14T10:21:00.000-08:00

Theater: Title Bout (December 7)

2010-12-08T07:53:00.000-08:00

Theater: Title Bout (November 15)

2010-11-17T10:36:00.000-08:00

Theater: Title Bout (October 25)

2010-10-27T14:48:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings on the week's new plays for Metromix NY. I'm often disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work, so I'm reviewing their titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listings on Metromix NY.

THE BREAK OF NOON
Playing on cliché is a easy path to a memorable title, though the cleverness may disguise a lack of substance. This repurposing of “the break of dawn” suggests a pivotal moment at its apogee, a climax. Or is Neil LaBute just alluding to Dylan's “It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)”, which opens “Darkness at the break of noon”?

ELEKTRA IN A ONE-PIECE
This title does good work. It suggests that the show is either modernizing a Greek myth or that the myth is a key to the show. It's got a bit of sex in it: the image of a girl in a swimsuit. And the phrase has a good rhythm―especially the vowel sounds, which are short & dull until the sharp 'e' caps it like a stopper.

THE FORTUNE TELLER
Like many titles, this one points at a character. He or she probably isn't the protagonist but a catalyst (at least, that's the standard dramatic role for a prophet). A fortune teller's almost a stock character―you probably imagine the same gypsy crone that I do when you hear the phrase. Not very exciting, but okay around Halloween.

THE MEMORANDUM
Titles, like band names, go through styles and fashions. This one screams post-war Absurdist drama, eg The Homecoming, The Chairs, The Maids, etc. These & The Memorandum strip the drama down to a focal point, ironically a banal one. Incidentally, the original Czech title is Vyrozumeni. No idea whether Czech has direct articles or not (I suppose The Seagull could accurately be called Seagull).

THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
Surprised that Shakespeare doesn't title this play Falstaff? So was Verdi, who knew that the fat fellow would sell more opera tickets. But then, Will didn't title his own plays, someone else did. And in the style of the era, it's a lot longer (see pic). Note that the 1602 quarto gave Sir John top billing. Its the First Folio that called the play Merry Wives, which has a nice rhythm and refocuses attention on the play's clever women.

THE PEE WEE HERMAN SHOW
Like Krusty the Klown's fictional variety hour, The Pee Wee Herman Show winks knowingly at the style of '50s & '60s TV. Think of Ed Sullivan, Laurence Welk, & Bozo the Clown, whose names acted as a brand that let you know what kind of entertainment you'd get. Thankfully, Pee Wee Herman has a name that works in the same way, at least for audiences of a certain age. And that's who this show's aimed at.

PERSEPHONE
Persephone has a classical ring, with its simple declaration that it's treating a Greek myth. If you didn't know better, you might even assume it's a real play by Euripides (it's not). Unless the show springs a twist on you, you know exactly what plot to expect from it.

YORK SHAKESPEARE COMPANY 2010 REPERTORY
Ugh. Utilitarian, made for selling a package of tickets. It attempts to brand the company's name, maybe implying (falsely) that it's a bona fide English troupe from that old theater town.

THAT HOPEY CHANGEY THING
Sarah Palin used this snide phrase as a shot at Obama's 'failure' to change America. I love it―calling a set of ideals a 'thing' somehow demeans them so acutely! I also like the implicit fact that Palin looks down her nose at hope! The playwright likes the phrase too, appropriating it to imply that his or her play will wade into the mud that's getting slung about by our politicians.

Theater: Reviews (October 22)

2010-10-22T14:13:00.000-07:00

Most Fridays, I post capsule reviews of my week of theater on Metromix's blog. But since these reviews disappear with the listings, I thought I'd publish them here too. Enjoy!

THE HUMAN SCALE
Public Theater / 3LD
Pulitzer-winner Lawrence Wright reviews the terrible situation between Gaza and Israel, offering an astonishingly balanced point-of-view on a polarizing subject. Wright has the access, acumen, and perspective to go with his New Yorker credentials, but what skills he has as a reporter he lacks as a performer. He's rumpled and fumbling, and occasionally flubs a line. Luckily, he's got Oskar Eustis, head of the Public Theater, to help him shape and vivify the piece. They add texture to the reportage by projecting photos, footage, maps and other journalistic accessories. As for Gaza itself, it's hard to imagine how the situation could be any worse. The Human Scale may sound like a lecture, but it's not exactly. Wright and Eustis trade a lecture (or an article's) authority for the informality and intimacy of theater, reducing a situation of a global complexity to a human scale (aha!) without simplifying it.

A LIFE IN THE THEATRE
Schoenfeld Theater
Stage stalwart Patrick Stewart (forever Captain Picard) shares the stage with TR Knight (House) in David Mamet's diverting but inconsequential Life in the Theatre. Both actors demonstrate great comic timing and indicate deeper, sadder facets to their characters. As the rookie's star rises, the veteran succumbs to professional jealousy and despair. But all that's deep in the subtext. Under Neil Pepe's direction, the darker thread gets only a little attention. His Life simply if hilariously depicts the dangers of live performance (a doorknob comes off; a wig slips; lines get skipped) and the vanity of actors. Contrast the in-show hijinks with the smooth operation of Santo Loquasto's set, whose traveling flats and sliding make-up tables suggest all the nooks of an old, musty theater. Life is good enough—the performers earn genuine laughs—but it's a minor show that you leave behind as soon as you leave the theater.

THE PUMPKIN PIE SHOW: AMBER ALERT
The Red Room
…is like an evening at a '40s bebop club. As each Pumpkin Pie actor takes centerstage to recite a monologue, the others sit attentively to one side, offering a chuckle at a particularly rich burst of actorly energy. Meanwhile, a sound artist tailors a musical backdrop to each speech on the fly. The audience nods to the words and the rhythm, cackles at the sick ironies of Clay McLeod Chapman's five gothic tales of American life. Four of Amber Alert's monologues approach the themes of youth and sex from deeply disturbing, often hilarious angles. The four pieces pry perversities from the American psyche, with Chapman and Hanna Cheek (Off-Off-Broadway's secret treasure) giving spiky, fearless performances. The odd one out, an odd little tale about a Texas boy who discovers a dead astronaut's diary, offers unironic pleasures. Though it's lovely and well-acted, cutting it from the program would focus the evening's themes.

THREE WOMEN
59 East 59
Poet Sylvia Plath wrote this one-act for BBC Radio in 1962, less than a year before her suicide. British director Robert Shaw felt compelled to stage it, but neither the compulsion or its inspiration are evident onstage. The show's a dully literal set of monologues by three women who've delivered children—one wanted, one unplanned, one stillborn. The three young brunette actors are barely distinguishable from one another, both vocally and visually. And all are directed to speak the poetry in conversational tone, as if the play were confessional prose. The standard white American accent, with its slight lisp and adenoidal vowels, is a poor tool for creating a sonic landscape. The result is painful to listen to—and you need to listen to poetry closely when there's no action or character to accompany it. Sometimes plays are lost for a reason.

Theater: Title Bout (October 18)

2010-10-20T09:58:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings on the week's new plays for Metromix NY. I'm often disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work, so I'm reviewing their titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listings on Metromix NY.

AFTER THE REVOLUTION
Here's a title that's pregnant with drama. Most revolutions look alike; it's the actions taken later that distinguish one from another. And of course, 'revolution' can be taken metaphorically, as an inciting incident.

COLIN QUINN: LONG STORY SHORT
Straightforward marketing: Colin Quinn isn't the protagonist, he's the performer. The subtitle is a cliché, maybe a catchphrase. Wouldn't it be nice if Quinn meant it literally though? (In fact, he does: the show's billed as a history of civilization in 75 minutes!)

CRITICAL MASS
A conventional metaphor that's often used without thought to its meaning. “Critical mass” is the amount of radioactive material needed for a nuclear reaction. So “to reach critical mass” is to reach the state required for a fundamental change―a great phrase for a drama (even one that's not about physics).

FUTURA
The typeface? What a funny thing to allude to. Presumably, the show's about printing and publishing. But the root-word ('future') smuggles in a forward-looking theme, while the 'a' suffix adds a modernist edge.

IN THE WAKE
Like 'after the revolution' above, 'in the wake' offers a good deal of dramatic potential. And like 'critical mass', it's so conventional you often forget it's a metaphor. It refers to the wake of a ship, of course, but it's also got a touch of the funereal.

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
As I commented last June, this is one of Shakespeare's strongest titles. A casual reader may misread “Merchant” as referring to Shylock―which would cleverly reverse expectations, titling the show after the antagonist & not the protagonist―but he's not a merchant. Instead, the title points us at a minor character, upsetting expectations all around!

PENELOPE
A classical allusion? Penelope was Odysseus' wife who awaited his return for two decades, practicing a stratagem to hold suitors off. In other words, her name's a byword for fidelity. The title itself could be a lost Greek drama―or a modern take on the myth.

PERFECT HARMONY
I can't imagine a duller title for a musical.

PLAY DEAD
An order you'd give a dog, it works as a play title because it carries the implication of acting. To take it further, it suggests the staging of a death/resurrection, which is a fun trope to employ whether it's real or faked.

RAIN – A TRIBUTE TO THE BEATLES
Wikipedia lists three-dozen songs entitled “Rain”, along with several movies & novels; I'll bet there are plenty of impressionist paintings too. So it's an odd choice to name your Beatles tribute concert after their psychedelic single. Gives you Beatle cred, I suppose.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 34)

2010-10-01T10:00:00.000-07:00

At the lowest pit, Judecca, the damned lie frozen under the ice. And in the darkness, iced up to his chest & still towering overhead, stands Satan. The most grotesque monster in Inferno, he's got three weeping faces above three sets of bat-wings. His chin drools blood because he's eternally chomping on three arch-betrayers: Judas, Brutus & Cassius (aha! a clue to Dante's politics). Dante & Virgil climb down Satan's pelt to the Earth's center (at Satan's groin), flip around, & climb up the shanks! Suddenly, it's morning, not evening! We're out, under a dawning sky—welcome to Purgatory.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 33)

2010-09-30T09:54:00.000-07:00

In an oubliette, one man sits atop another, gnawing thru the skull to his brain. The cannibal is Count Ugolino; his victim a Pisan archbishop. The prelate accused Ugolino of treachery (evidently justly, since here the Count is!). But Ugolino focuses on how he was imprisoned with his sons; it's ambiguous but probable that he ate them to survive. Dante slides downward to Ptolomea, resting place of those who murder their guests. Faces upward, their tears freeze in their sockets! Here we learn that, the moment a person betrays, a devil overtakes its body & casts its soul into Hell.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 32)

2010-09-29T11:05:00.000-07:00

Silence hangs over the final circle, where the rivers of Hell empty into a frozen lake. Here, the worst sinners are immobilized in icy oubliettes, thousands of heads sticking out with blue faces & clacking teeth. There are four concentric rings of sinners, distinguished only by the position of the heads. In the first, Caina (named for the first murderer & holding sinners who betrayed relatives, naturally), heads face down. In the second, Antenora (betrayers of their homelands, after a Trojan turncoat), eyes look forward. All the while, gravity grows stronger as we near the Earth's center.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 31)

2010-09-28T09:04:00.000-07:00

This deep into the Inferno, the murk fouls up Dante's sense of perspective: what he mistakes for towers ringing the edge of the Malebolge are actually giants, 70 feet tall or more, standing just beyond the Malebolge in Tenth Circle! One speaks a barbarous nonsense, the language of Babel; another is straitjacketed in chains; a third, the tallest yet, lowers Dante to the floor of Hell at Virgil's command. Many of them are the titans that attempted to overthrow Jove. Link that to Babel, and you realize that the Tenth Circle holds, among others, those who would depose God Himself!

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 30)

2010-09-27T14:00:00.001-07:00

Add to the alchemists, counterfeitors and con artists of the tenth Malebolge impersonators (exemplified by Myrra, an Ovidian character who disguised herself to seduce her father) and misrepresentors (especially Potiphar's wife, who failed to seduce Joseph & so accused him of rape in Genesis). Fraud is the overarching sin of the Ninth Ring, and the most damnable fraud is false creation, a lie that impersonates or enacts a fiction and, in a sense, overwrites the truth. That's why Dante is so very careful to proclaim his creative cosmology as divinely ordained: the orthodox might accuse him of this very sin.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 29)

2010-09-26T04:05:00.000-07:00

Once again, Dante weeps at the sight of so many damned souls; once again, Virgil chastises him for his too-soft heart & reminds him that all the torture is divinely ordered. This repetition reminds me that Dante's in-poem self is a medieval character, not a modern one: his essence doesn't change. But in this Christian context (& the allegorical style of medieval narrative), Dante's tears & mercy ally him with the Son of God. So, clockwise and down into the final Malebolge, where alchemists, counterfeitors, & other con artists are literally plagued: covered with diseased scabs & festering sores.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 28)

2010-09-25T14:19:00.000-07:00

Here's a surprise: Mohammad languishes in the ninth Malebolge among the schismatics, not with the blasphemers in the seventh Ring. Evidently, Dante sees Islam as a (particularly perverse) offshoot of Christianity rather than a religion unto itself. The Prophet and his fellows in this ditch are, fittingly, hacked and severed like men on a battlefield, a concrete symbol of the dissension they fomented among the faithful. Dante begins the canto with a striking description of a battlefield. Here and elsewhere, he alludes to his service in the Battle of Campaldino, a decisive event in Florence's civil wars—another schism, of course!

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 27)

2010-09-23T20:37:00.000-07:00

The central character of this canto goes unnamed but his actions are supplied in such detail that he must be a Dante's near-contemporary. Like Ulysses, the soul gave shifty advice with a silver tongue. And he counseled a pope who waged war upon his fellow Christians. From what I've read, I'd say Dante's not too enamored of popes, but maybe that's just because I've only read Inferno so far? There's an Italian proto-nationalism that looks back to Rome & Troy and lingers (Virgil-like) over the geography of the peninsula. But Dante's political philosophy is hard to make out.

Theater: Title Bout (September 23)

2010-09-23T08:08:00.000-07:00

The title doesn't allude to La Belle et la Bete (AKA the French fairy tale Beauty & the Beast), but that's an easy mistake to make. But why use the French? It's confusing & pretentious. I'll bet it even drives away potential ticket-buyers. And sadly, I've noticed sites listing this as Le Bete and ignoring the caret over the first 'e' (or, in Metromix's case, unable to find the correct coding). Shoddy titles like La Bete are why I began this column.

BLOODY BLOODY ANDREW JACKSON
I covered this one Off-Broadway in my second Title Bout ever. But to revisit. This biodrama follows the convention of titling itself after its subject. But the doubling of “Bloody” adds a kick & a rhythm, implying the musical genre. It also adds a touch of shame to the president's name/legacy, which is cool.

DELUSION
One-word titles are better with concepts like this than with names & objects. Delusion isn't thrilling but it's got potential, since delusion can be a powerful motivation, a theme treated with complexity, or the implication of an expressionistic style.

FALL DOWNTOWN FESTIVAL
As usual, a festival gets an ugly utilitarian title. “Downtown” does imply a certain style of theater―which the fest's content delivers―but it's uninspired. And I'll bet there's no Spring Downtown Festival, which would make the “Fall” necessary. If only it were a pun instead.

GATZ
I'm of two minds here. This is a clever way to suggest an adaptation of The Great Gatsby, and it avoids the clumsy convention of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. But it's also esoteric: a reference to Jay Gatsby's real name, which only Fitz-o-philes will recognize without prompting. I'll call it a win, just because a title that makes you think is better than one that doesn't.

IN TRANSIT
Not bad: an open phrase implying a theme and a state of being. But not great either: it's pretty generic, too bland to tempt an audience.

THE LANGUAGE ARCHIVE
It's precise, which is surprisingly rare for a title. You can also infer the subject (linguistics) pretty confidently. The slightly technical sound hints at a hard style & possibly scientific or academic setting. But that's all conjecture; there's an enigma to The Language Archive that works in its favor.

A LIFE IN THE THEATER
For a wordsmith, Mamet isn't the best at names. Glengarry Glen Ross has euphony, Sexual Perversion in Chicago has sex. But most of his titles are bland, with this one as an especially dull case. At least we know the genre: a backstage drama.

LOMBARDI
Another biodrama with its subject on the marquee. The fame of NFL's greatest coach has tarnished over the decades, as fame inevitably does (he's due for a mention on Mad Men, isn't he? I guess Super Bowl I is next season). But if you're the audience for Lombardi, you recognize the name.

TIME STANDS STILL
You could opine that this phrase is insubstantial―that it merely builds theme or atmosphere, not plot or subject. That it's vague, unless the show's about the nature of time (unlike, though I'd like that). But I like it for those reasons. It's slightly abstract and also poetic, albeit a bit cliché. I've got to admit it's not great but I kind of like it.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 26)

2010-09-22T09:32:00.000-07:00

Into the ninth crevasse of the Malebolge and one of the most highly praised episodes of Dante's Comedy. Here, dissemblers are consumed by fire. One flame contains Ulysses (AKA Odysseus), punished for his diabolical stratagem of the Trojan Horse. Or maybe it's his hubris: Ulysses relates how he urged his sailors beyond Gibraltar. Far to the south, he saw—not Hades, as Homer had it, but the tallest mountain on Earth. It's the Mount of Purgatory, which Dante is heading towards! Dante sees himself in the intrepid warrior, but unlike the dissembler, his exploration will confirm God's truths.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 25)

2010-09-21T10:59:00.000-07:00

There's no break in action between the cantos 24 & 25: to punctuate his hatred of good, a thief gives God the fig with both thumbs! His burst of blasphemy prefaces the darkest, most horrific episode of the entire Inferno. A six-legged serpent scurries up to another robber and latches itself to his torso. Then it melds with him, turning him into a hideous monster. A second lizard stabs another person in the belly. The dumbfounded soul and his reptilian torturer mingle essences till they resemble each other: two deformed hybrids scuttle off. Thus does sin deform the soul!

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 24)

2010-09-20T09:18:00.000-07:00

With the bridges in the Malebolge collapsed, Dante must climb the scree to continue. In a strange twist of medieval physics, Virgil (who is weightless, being a soul without a body) hoists Dante from below. Finally, they reach the eighth ditch, which is filled with snakes! These vipers stab right through the terrorized sinners, who catch fire, turn to ash, and then, in a parody of the Resurrection, are reconstituted. Chilling! Dante recognizes one soul, a Florentine damned for jacking a church. The man prophecies that his party, the Blacks, will triumph over Dante's Whites—and so they would.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 23)

2010-09-18T13:37:00.000-07:00

Virgil hustles his charge away from their demonic escort (Dante compares him to a mother rescuing her child from fire), over a berm and into the next crevasse. The Malebolge's sixth ditch holds the hypocrites, clad in lead cloaks. Dante chats with a pair of Florentine officials who sold the city out to the Pope, then he notices Caiaphas, the Pharisee who convinced Pilate to execute Christ. The priest, ironically, is also crucified: nailed to the ground so his fellow hypocrites walk over him. To the poet, then, hypocrisy is a sort of betrayal of political beliefs.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 22)

2010-09-15T10:56:00.001-07:00

This comedic canto is straight out of a medieval play. The damned in this ditch arch their backs to ease their cramping and so, dolphin-like, break the surface of the molten pitch. Dante's demonic escort hooks one with a harpoon and starts tearing his flesh. But like his fellows in this area, the poor bastard is a barrator (a lawyer who repeatedly files suits simply to harrass) and he manages to start an argument among the demons! As they fight, they let go of him and then, when they give chase, they tumble into the burning tar. Slapstick!

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 21)

2010-09-14T10:36:00.000-07:00

Part one of a two-canto arc. At the Malebolge's fifth ditch, winged demons use hooks to snag & torture the unfortunate souls who lift their heads out of burning pitch. It's a folk vision of Hell, especially the runty, farting demons with ugly Italian names like Scarmiglione. Their captain tells Virgil that one of the stone bridges which span the Malebolge collapsed 1266 years ago (that's 34 AD, when the Crucifixion caused an earthquake). A squad of demons are appointed to guide them through. Dante, never a courageous tourist, thinks an escort is a bad idea…

Theater: Title Bout (September 9)

2010-09-09T18:35:00.000-07:00

ABSOLUTION

This punchy title does a good job of focusing our attention. Viewers know to pay attention to whether the characters earn forgiveness for their transgressions, and whether they deserve it.

BORDER TOWNS

The phrase suggests a cultural flashpoint, with the bigoted nativism of modern American politics. But the use of the plural makes the title more abstract, giving it a hint of postmodern philosophy (“liminal blah blah”). That makes me shy away a bit.

A BRIGHT NEW BOISE

I get a kick out of this title, which sounds like it was invented by a local Chamber of Commerce (“Idaho: we're not small potatoes!”). Knowing the rotten state of the economy & the tendency of drama to portray the American West in a cynical twilight, I'll bet the title's ironic.

BRIEF ENCOUNTER

An adaptation of a Noel Coward drama & its film version by David Lean. Marketers won't love it: it's too generic & doesn't state outright that it's an adaptation. But the title has a repressed tenor—it's not tells us more than it has to about two people meeting—that fits with the show's content.

THE DIVINE SISTER

In this context, 'Sister' suggests a nun. But by calling her 'divine' rather than 'holy', this title gets a little showy and flamboyant. Not bad.

DOWN THERE

Generally, I lump words like 'there' with pronouns as too vague. This one tests my rule of thumb, since I suspect it's using 'there' in a euphemistic way, as genitals or hell. Or maybe not, maybe it's just a basement. A savvy writer will the ambiguity and refer to all these connotations.

EXIT/ENTRANCE

Sounds like a Beckett play, doesn't it? 'Slash' titles feel awfully post-modern & dated in their use of symbols. And Exit/Entrance is also self-conscious about its theater terminology. Still, the writer gets a point for getting the action backwards: this play occurs between the exit and the entrance, not visa-versa.

FRINGENYC ENCORES 2010

I always wonder why The New York City International Fringe Festival is abbreviated FringeNYC. Why not NYCFringe? Either way, the compression into one word is only good in a URL. At least 'Encores' has a theatrical connotation that lifts this above the merely functional.

THE LITTLE FOXES

You can't go wrong with Shakespeare or the Bible. Lillian Hellman quotes The Song of Songs: “Take us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines | For our vines have tender grapes.” Most theologians (mis)interpret this warning as little foxes being casual sins. But in the context of a love poem, the warning's from a frisky gal to her guy. Either way, the meaning's obscure. I'll admit it, I'm not sure what Lil's going for here.

ORLANDO

I've always liked the name Orlando, it sounds so exotic. This show adapts Virginia Woolf's novel, not the epic romance or the opera based on it. But I'm glad the producers don't call it “Virginia Woolf's Orlando”, not just cuz that's inaccurate (it's Sarah Ruhl's Orlando) but also cuz that sort of marketing is odious. (See also Brief Encounter, above)

THE PROPHET OF MONTO

Speaking of romances, this title sounds like a Gothic novel. Why's it so catchy? Check how it's a pair three-syllable feet, stress in the middle. In both, the first syllable's an 'uh' vowel, the middle one's a short 'o'. In the third, 'Prophet' ends in another short vowel, but the long 'o' of 'Monto' caps the phrase. That's poetry.

THE REVIVAL

This sounds to me like a sequel to The Rehearsal (a Restoration comedy), but I doubt most audiences think of that. 'Revival' has a theatrical meaning & a religious one (the American Christian movement, with its tent meetings). The latter also implies a character arc—will the protagonist be reborn?—something for an audience to watch for.

ROADKILL CONFIDENTIAL

Great title, lots of fun. 'Roadkill' alone is a graphic compound word that's totally American. Then 'Confidential' suggests a true crime exposé (in these cases, it's used ironically). Plus, that enhances the 'kill' in 'roadkill', as if the show's about a killer who uses his car as the murder weapon. Hard to stage, but it sounds awesome!

THROUGH THE NIGHT

A little vague. The allusion's clear enough—that Welsh ballad usually translated as “All Through the Night”. Plus this title has the sense of a journey, either literal or figurative. But as I said, it's vague.

TIGERS BE STILL

An enigmatic phrase, which I simultaneously find mildly compelling & mildly frustrating. I have no idea what this show might be about. But it's also sloppy writing: should we assume the writer forgot a comma? That is, is the phrase an order to tigers, or is it a descriptive phrase about tigers in Black American dialect? The more I look at this one, the less I like it.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 20)

2010-09-09T18:08:00.000-07:00

Another ditch in the Malebolge holds the diviners. They've had their necks twisted so they can only look backwards, a particularly gruesome and fitting punishment for false prophets. Dante is horrified, but once again he's admonished by his guide for his tears. We're to understand that pity for the damned is a form of blasphemy. The Comedy stresses that Christian justice exists, & that it's the guiding principle of the cosmic order. Also, Virgil gives an extended description (20 lines) of the rivers of Italy. Dante glorifies Florence a lot, but he's also got a streak of pan-Italian patriotism.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 19)

2010-09-03T14:01:00.000-07:00

The Malebolge is divided into ten ditches; we've come to the third, which houses the simoniacs. They're wedged upside-down into holes; new arrivals get stacked upon the old, crushing them into the rock. FYI, simony is the practice of selling posts in the Church. A century later, Chaucer also sounded off against this type of sin, but I'd say he portrayed their corruption as part of the fallen nature of Man. Dante views them as truly wicked holy men who follow “a god of gold and silver”, putting them into a cosmic perspective, not a human one.

Theater: Title Bout (September 1)

2010-09-01T11:35:00.000-07:00

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 18)

2010-09-01T10:36:00.001-07:00

We're at the volume's halfway point! The Eighth Circle is a massive network of trenches, moats, and earthworks called Malebolge (or “Evil Ditches”). Like the demon Geryon in the previous canto, the Malebolge is entirely Dante's creation, and at 13 cantos, it's the single largest corner of Hell in his Inferno. That adds to the sense that Dante is getting more confident in his writing. His metaphors are more robust and his descriptions are more vivid. Traversing the Malebolge, he recognizes pimps, seducers, and flatterers from Florence, while Virgil points out the mythical Jason.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 17)

2010-08-31T09:29:00.000-07:00

Even to a modern imagination, used to seeing unreal creatures rendered through CGI, this episode is a triumph of the fantastic. At the precipice of the Seventh Circle, Virgil hails a massive demon called Geryon. The size of a barge, it's part man, part serpent, and part scorpion. Virgil & Dante mount the beast and ride it off the cliff into the void! Adding to the tension, Dante thinks of Icarus & Phaeton, two mythic flyers who tumbled to their deaths. But Geryon wheels down to the next ring like a falcon, depositing a terrified Dante safely at Ring #8.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 16)

2010-08-30T07:48:00.000-07:00

A trio of “sodomites” recognize Dante's Tuscan accent & ask him how the city of Florence fares. Dante must reply that it's riven by political dissent. Sinners like these gay men aren't simply defined by wickedness, even in Hell. They're citizens and partisans, and they reflect some better aspect of Florence than currently (c. 1310) existed, in Dante's opinion. Unlike most poets, he's happy to comment on current events in his work, even though the purpose of his Comedy is to chart an eternal cosmic hierarchy. It makes the book both intimate & relevant to his contemporaries.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 15)

2010-08-26T16:29:00.000-07:00

Throughout the Inferno, there's a tension between the justice of God's punishment & Dante's pity for the damned (both in his explicit reactions and implicitly through his humane descriptions). For the modern liberal and for Dante, this comes to a head in Canto 15, where men are punished for homosexuality. Dante won't controvert Christian doctrine, so instead he paints a compassionate portrait of Brunetto Latini, a friend & mentor. Dante deliberately elides Brunetto's sin, cites his service to Florence, commends the man's poetry, and ends, “he looked more the winner than the one who trails the field.” Well finessed.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 14)

2010-08-25T16:09:00.000-07:00

In a desert raining with brimstone, Dante notes that one man ignores the cinders falling like snowflakes upon the damned. It's Capaneus, one of the kings who beseiged Thebes (see Aeschylus' Seven Against Thebes). Capaneus stood against Jove (ie the godhead) & remains blasphemous even in Hades! But back to that desert. Virgil plans to traverse the scorched earth along a stream that connects hell's various rivers. In a flourish of cosmology, Dante explains that the rivers are fed by the wound of a monumental titan beneath Mt. Ida. It's breathtaking how wide the poet's scope & imagination are!

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 13)

2010-08-23T16:58:00.000-07:00

Ready for a horrific image? Further into the seventh circle, harpies patrol a wilderness of thorns. When Virgil snaps a twig off one, it bleeds and screams in pain! Virgil explains that each bush is a soul; when Judgment Day comes, the resurrected bodies of these suicides will hang from their own branches (an echo of the arch-suicide, Judas). The thornbush weezes its tale through its broken stalk—he belonged to the court of Frederick II—but never gives his name. We're meant to deduce it, but the omission also suggests to me that Hell's punishments simultaneously emphasize and annihilate the self.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 12)

2010-08-22T11:49:00.000-07:00

After last canto's disquisition on sin, Canto 12 picks up the action. Sidling past the Minotaur (I love all the monsters!), Dante & Virgil come to a vast, boiling stream of blood: the River Phlegethon. Centaurs ring the strand, firing arrows at bobbing souls of the violent. Virgil enlists one to ford the river with Dante on its back (remember, Virgil is insubstantial & needs no help). How are the violent distinct from the wrathful of Circle #4, swimming in the Styx? It's more than mere degree: here are tyrants like Alexander and Attila along with career criminals.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 11)

2010-08-20T15:31:00.001-07:00

Commenting on a ripening stench, Virgil notes they're descending into the seventh circle. The final three rings are a class apart from the first six: here are sins of violence & treachery against others (including God), not merely sins of the mind. The book careful parses the sins in its deepest probe of metaphysics so far. It's hard to comprehend this position from our humanist point-of-view. When Dante shows pity for the hellbound, he's chastized by Virgil. The damned deserve their God-given punishments. But I can't help seeing an ambiguity in Inferno, because it describes them with such humanity.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 10)

2010-08-19T11:42:00.000-07:00

Where the last canto clanged with action, this one turns inward. Dante takes a moment to chat with Farinata, a Florentine rival whose sin was stoicism—a blasphemous philosophy. Ironically, Farinata strides from his tomb in an echo of Christ's Resurrection. And he earns a complex respect from Dante, since he was a fierce defender of Florence in Italian politics. Dante also shows sympathy for the family's exile, especially once Farinata foresees Dante's own banishment. The damned, it seems, have a prophetic vision that tethers them to the world. The exchange unsettles our narrator, ending the canto on a pensive note.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 9)

2010-08-18T10:53:00.000-07:00

Last canto ended on a cliffhanger, with Dante & Virgil barred from the City of Dis. Now, Virgil reports that reinforcements are on their way. Then he mentions his first trip from Limbo into Hell, back when he was newly late (thus filling in the backstory since his death in 19 BC). His anecdote's interrupted, however, by an attack from the Furies & Medusa (described only via sound—Dante doesn't see her, of course)! Then a heavenly angel appears, scattering the damned & storming the gates. It's thrilling! Inside, Circle #6: a traditional hellscape burns the souls of heretics.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 8)

2010-08-17T10:07:00.001-07:00

Dante notices that the Stygian ferry only draws water when he's aboard—a subtle reminder that Virgil's an insubstantial spirit like the rest of the damned. They're represented this canto by an arrogant Florentine, Filippo Argenti, who gets singled out for abuse—first verbally by Dante, who knew the guy personally, and then physically (spiritually?) by the skiff's crew! It docks at Dis, the great city of the Fallen Angels of Hell. From the parapets, they jeer at Dante for risking his still-living spirit and move to bar the gates. For the first time, Virgil seems worried…

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 7)

2010-08-16T10:23:00.000-07:00

Another fiend guards the fourth ring: Plutus, Roman God of Wealth. Before him, in a display of pointlessness that reminds me of Sisyphus, a mob of avaricious & prodigal shove heavy casques in circles, some clockwise & some counter-, reversing direction when they collide. Most of the greedy ones are clerics, who've rejected the asceticism of Christ. Virgil (maybe in response to Canto 6's report on Florence?) waxes allegorical on Fortune, who lifts some people & nations while dashing others. And then, at the River Styx, the wrathful wrestle among themselves, holding each other under the brackish water.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 6)

2010-08-15T15:48:00.000-07:00

Dante, preoccupied, finds himself in a fetid downpour, facing three-headed Cerberus. FYI, if you encounter Cerberus, toss dirt in its mouth. Now in the third circle, Dante stops to chat with one Ciacco (the nickname means 'pig', the sin is gluttony), who's the first contemporary Florentine he's met. Caccio has some dire prophecies for the city, riven by factionalism that had recently sent Dante into exile. Even more spooked, Dante asks Virgil about the metaphysics of damnation. After the Day of Judgment, punishments will be greater, and so the damned will be closer to perfection.

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 5)

2010-08-14T13:39:00.001-07:00

At the second circle, we meet Minos, Judge of the Damned. In an echo of confession, the dead recite their sins; Minos coils his tail to signal which ring of the Underworld they belong in. Descending past him, we come upon a vivid sight: the lustful—Cleopatra, Tristan, Dido—are tossed in the air by a black squall, cursing God (and not themselves). One, “Francesca”, floats down to describe her sin: she and her lover were inspired to adultery over an epic romance about Lancelot. She's a powerful character, easy to sympathize with. But note the ironic dangers of reading!

Summer Reading: Inferno (canto 4)

2010-08-11T15:06:00.000-07:00

Canto 4

Into the Abyss! The Inferno's a giant pit with populated rings (“circles”) around the edges. Circle #1 is quiet & still: Limbo. It's Virgil's home turf, with the other pagans unlucky enough to be born before Christ's sacrifice. There's regret in Virgil's voice when he tells us that only once has anyone gone from Limbo to Heaven: the Judaic prophets, paroled by Jesus Himself. Dante & Virgil talk shop with Homer, Horace, & Ovid—Dante's got chutzpah classing himself with them! Then there's a Homeric list of Limbo's denizens, mythic (Hector), historical (Socrates), even a Muslim (Averroes).

Summer Reading: Inferno

2010-08-10T08:11:00.000-07:00

Canto 3

We pass under the famous archway inscribed “Abandon All Hope…” into Hell—or its vestibule, at least. Before the River Acheron, a mob of 'neutrals' mingle with the angels who took neither side during Satan's Rebellion. Neither dead nor alive, they're ignored by Heaven, Hell, mortals, & even Virgil. Their indeterminate identity even extends to their allegorical emblem: a blank standard. At the river, an old man whose eyes glow like coals snarls at Dante, confused by his living body. It's Charon, the ferryman of Greek myth. Dante faints at the sight, so he's unconscious when he enters Hell itself.

Theater: Title Bout (August 9)

2010-08-09T20:00:00.000-07:00

Summer Reading: Inferno

2010-08-09T08:07:00.000-07:00

Canto 2

After invoking a muse, Dante describes his first action: a display of cowardice, though couched in humility. He reminds Virgil that he's no Aeneas or Paul, who both harrowed Hell. One founded Rome, the other Christianity; by extension, the Comedy is just as important! Virgil bucks Dante up by telling him that Beatrice appointed him to guide Dante thru the Inferno. Beatrice is luminous, a heavenly emanation fixed in a hierarchy of holy women (Mary Herself sent a virgin martyr to point Dante's crisis out to Bea), too refined to descend into Hell.

Summer Reading: Inferno

2010-08-08T09:18:00.000-07:00

Canto 1

Dante, 36 years old (my age!), has experienced a life crisis; as a poet, he's compelled to write about his recovery. It takes the narrative form of getting lost in an eerie valley and threatened by wild beasts—a vivid metaphor that rings true to anyone who's struggled with depression. But his description, despite its precision and liveliness, has the tone of a dream, especially the way his hero, the Roman poet Virgil, appears from nowhere to guide him to safety.

Summer Reading: Inferno (intro)

2010-08-07T10:43:00.000-07:00

Why Dante's Inferno? Lady Hotspur & I plan to visit Florence in October. And I enjoy laying a foundation for trips by exploring the literature of my destination. So it seems like the perfect excuse to read the masterpiece, written c. 1305-20, at the dawn of Florence's Renaissance heyday. I'll be reading and reporting on a canto each day for the next month, at about a 100 words per entry. But first, an introduction.

Narrative poems have a push-pull rhythm that combines the momentum of storytelling with the careful parsing of poetry. The rhyme scheme of The Divine Comedy mirrors this rhythm: ABA BCB CDC DED EFE…. Dante introduces a third rhyme then moves back to resolve the second. The content also shifts constantly between realistic observations, vivid metaphors, emotional self-reflection, mythic/historical allusion, Christian allegory, metaphysical inquiry, & Florentine current events. It makes for an incredibly dense epic, but it's also remarkably accessible.

FYI, I'm reading the Hollander translation, published in 2000 AD. It prints the original Italian on the left leaf & the English translation on the right. I like the option of breaking down Dante's phrasing to compare it with the translation, and my knowledge of Latin languages is just good enough to recognize some word roots. The Hollanders don't bother to rhyme their translation (I approve, as English isn't nearly as good as Italian for rhyming).

What else should you know? Cantos are about 110-150 lines long, the perfect length for one a day. The Hollanders include notes at the end of each canto rather than at the foot of the page. I read the canto then skim the endnotes for the allusions & political references. Inferno has 34 cantos; the subsequent volumes are 33 cantos, making The Comedy an even 100 cantos.

I hope you enjoy playing Dante to my Virgil as I guide you through the Inferno! See you tomorrow!

Theater: Title Bout (July 27)

2010-07-27T13:56:00.000-07:00

TV: Mad Men, season 3

2010-07-23T14:54:00.000-07:00

The serial nature of TV can act on a show like wind resistance. Mad Men, like The Sopranos, had a great debut season partly because it could stand alone. The second season, on the other hand, spent so much time rebooting, its open-ended climax—Don's return to Westchester, Betty's pregnancy—felt like further set-up. But the third season sidesteps this issue with a spectacular season finale that revitalizes the show's plot engine. Don's identity, always Mad Men's core, is simultaneously stripped and souped up. He fights to keep his workplace family, but surrenders his home life without a fight. In the final scene, his colleagues literally move into his (hotel) room! Every strand of plot comes into play this final episode, possibly the show's strongest so far.

But even before the finale, season three displays tight writing and a growing integration (pun intended) between the characters' personal lives and the period's social change. The creators realize how superb Christina Hendricks is, adding substantially to her character's arc. Joan's dubious marriage and love of work acts as a foil for Don's while deepening the male/female dichotomy that's another central theme. A fine character is added to the cast (earnest, concise Lane Pryce) and another gets elaborated well (daughter Sally). Okay, #3 isn't perfect: as with season 2, Don's mistress is a wan character who won't be missed.

The bigger misstep is the forfeiture of Pete & Peggy's stature as secondary protagonists to give Betty a larger role. January Jones embarasses herself: there's no gap between the actor's emptiness and the role's. In a few scenes, she's outacted by 10-year-old Kiernen Shipka as Sally! It's especially frustrating since the universe of Mad Men bends around Betty like gravity. Hopefully, the upcoming season will readjust to its new status quo by giving Betty less screentime. The finale cut away much of the larger cast; ideally it'll pursue the intimacy that a newer, leaner firm affords the show!

Theater: Title Bout (July 20)

2010-07-20T14:29:00.000-07:00

Theater: Title Bout (July 13)

2010-07-13T09:14:00.000-07:00

Theater: Title Bout (July 6)

2010-07-06T20:24:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings on the week's new plays for Metromix NY. I'm often disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work, so I'm reviewing their titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listings on Metromix NY. 

BACHELORETTE
This one-word title is surprisingly okay. The sole context for the word “bachelorette” is, of course, the rave-up thrown for a bride on the eve of her wedding. This writer implies the party by its omission while bringing focus to the protagonist. Clever!

FALLING FOR EVE
Writers, take note: gerunds add a sense of dynamism. This title spells out the arc of the play: a love story (“falling”, lamely, has no secondary meaning here). The biblical allusion builds the love-object up nicely, suggesting she'll be strong-willed, possibly even an antagonist or at least the instigator of plot complications.

LINCOLN CENTER FESTIVAL 2010
A utilitarian title, pretty dull. The works in the festival do better: the retro style of the Blind Boys of Alabama, the conceptual oddity of A Disappearing Number, the promise of spectacle in The Battle of Stalingrad. Worst title: the postmodern punctuation of Varèse: (R)Evolution.

PTP/NYC FESTIVAL
What does PTP stand for? Knowing that might entice me to catch this festival; not knowing alienates me. Maybe that's deliberate, since the festival includes work like Plevna: Meditations on Hatred (the prickly Howard Barker, natch). The best title in this fest, no contest, is Lovesong of the Electric Bear.

SWEET SWEET MOTHERHOOD
I'm ambivalent here. The “motherhood” gives off a saccharine flavor of Victorian sentimentality, but the repetition of “sweet” suggests that it might be meant ironically.

UNDERGROUNDZERO FESTIVAL 2010
Of this week's three festivals, this one's got the best name. Okay, so collapsing a phrase into one word is dubious. But I do enjoy the ambiguity: is it “under ground zero” or “underground zero”?

WITH GLEE
Even if it's not intentionally capitalizing on the popular musical TV show, this title should catch a few more eyeballs―which should be one of a title's goals. Actually, I like With Glee more than Glee, since the preposition implies the tenor of actions rather than a simple emotion.

Theater: Title Bout (June 28)

2010-06-29T12:35:00.000-07:00

Theater: Title Bout (June 21)

2010-06-22T11:11:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings on the week's shows for Metromix NY. I'm so disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work, so I'm reviewing their titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listings on Metromix NY. 

THE ZERO HOUR
Zero is a cool number, partly because in a sense it's not a number. And the phrase “zero hour” has a built-in sense of tension: a countdown to the dramatic event. That's probably why it's a cliché. According to Wikipedia, "Zero Hour" is the title to sci-fi tales by Ray Bradbury, Rod Serling, Star Trek & DC comics as well as random radio programs, TV documentaries, & a prog-metal band. Hell, there's another show playing Off-Broadway right now called Zero Hour––about Zero Mostel!

Theater: Title Bout (June 14)

2010-06-15T09:50:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings on the week's shows for Metromix NY. I'm so disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work, so I'm reviewing their titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listings on Metromix NY. 

FAMILY DINNER
Not a bad title, in that it proclaims the arena of conflict. It also solidly (even rigidly) defines the setting/style as bourgeois realism. So a ticket-buyer knows what she's getting, which is more than most titles offer!

IDEAL
A deceptively complex title: there's not as many shades of meaning to “ideal” as you'd think. Instead, it sets the audience up for a play about ideals, morals, ethics… which, really, is every play. The playwright's Ayn Rand, so the absence of subtext and irony shouldn't surprise you.

NUNSENSE
It's possible to read a lot into this one: you figure James Joyce would've loved how it undercuts Catholicism through a play-on-words. Or maybe it's a Bugs Bunny cartoon set in a convent. Actually, it's a franchise show about wacky nuns―squandering a title with potential.

ON THE LEVEE
The word “levee” implies Mississippi floods and Delta blues. And in summer 2010, BP's oil disaster orbits the word's association with the Gulf Coast and Hurricane Katrina. It's a word weighted with the potential for communal tragedy, a Chekhov's Gun of a word.

Theater: Title Bout (June 7)

2010-06-08T15:26:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings on the week's shows for Metromix NY. I'm so disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work, so I'm reviewing their titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listings on Metromix NY.

AMERICAN DOCUMENT
What a nondescript title, it sounds like a dull book about the Constitution. And it's pompous: using the adjective “American” is like draping your show in the flag.

FREED
Actually, for a one-word title, this isn't bad. “Freed” suggests emancipation or it suggests parole. The former implies a key event in US history; the latter has built-in tension (“freed” suggests wrongful imprisonment, unlike "released", "remanded", & "paroled").

LITTLE DOC
Presumably this show's about a son who lives in his father's shadow. Will we learn why Dad's nicknamed “Doc” and is the reason interesting?

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Great writer, Shakespeare, but hit-or-miss on titles. In practical terms, this is one of his best. It's not just a name (eg Hamlet) or a generic phrase (eg As You Like It). It's specific to the show, it sets the scene in a cosmopolitan city and raises the theme of mercantilism. It focuses the attention on one character (though the Merchant, ironically, is neither the romantic lead nor the villain). Good job, Will!

MODOTTI
The problem, however, with titling your show for your protagonist is that it's nondescript. Figure this protag is Italian; what else do you know about the show? Unless you're heavy into feminist art-history or activism, you probably don't recognize the name. So despite the heavy sound, Modotti lacks the weight that's makes a one-name title strong.

REFLECTIONS OF A HEART
I generally like poetic titles but I find this one a little maudlin. “Reflections” implies mirrors as well as self-awareness and candor; good so far. But “of a Heart” just sets my teeth on edge.

SISTER MYOTIS'S BIBLE CAMP
It's not pretty but it mostly serves its function: you know what the show's about. Probably a comedy, with an odd name like “Myotis” (which, FYI, is a genus of “bat”, but who knows that?). Or maybe it just reminds me of “Sister Mary Ignatius…”, Durang's lampoon of Catholic school.

WHEN WE GO UPON THE SEA
Ooh, very poetical: trochaic tetrameter with a missing syllable for emphasis! “Upon” is kind of archaic—poetic license to balance the rhythm. It also sets up a dramatic scenario (literal or metaphorical) of sea-voyage, enlisting us along the way. It's like the plot has started just by your reading the title! This one's good.

THE WINTER'S TALE
Okay, Shakespeare probably didn't come up with his own titles. But The Winter's Tale is such an oddity, both for him and the era, that I've wondered if he titled it himself—esp. cuz it's so good. The medieval “Tale” gives it an intimate feeling. The definite article implies three more seasonal tales, each taking its tone and possibly theme from its climate. Altogether, it implies a work meant to warm you on a cold night.

Monday Night Title Bout (May 31)

2010-06-01T10:24:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings about the week's shows for Metromix NY. I'm usually disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose to call their work, so I'm reviewing the titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through its link to my listings on Metromix NY.

AMERIMESSIAH
Portmanteaus are tricky to work with: they should seem to combine naturally a pair of concepts into one fluid word. “Amerimessiah” is useful―our culture loves a heroic leader/savior more than a cooperative effort―but it doesn't quite work as poetry. Ultimately, I admire the effort but not the execution.

DIETRICH AND CHEVALIER: THE MUSICAL
I detest the clause “The Musical”. A product of marketing, it shows no imagination. And in this case, it's redundant: if the audience will see this show simply cuz of their names, then they already know that Dietrich & Chevalier were actor-singers. Also I'm skeptical of their name-drawing power in 2010. Incidentally, their given names would be a better, more euphonic choice: Marlene & Maurice.

DREAMS OF THE WASHER KING
This one's got a nice burst of poetry to it, located in the “dreams” that are the work's subject (and what does a king dream about?), in the fable-like phrasing, and even the subtle rhyming nod to the “Fisher King”. Ambiguously, a “washer king” may be an industrial magnate of die-cast metal discs or of household machines (a la “the Sausage King of Chicago”), or he may rule over something else entirely, literally or metaphorically.

THE GRAND MANNER
Pretentious. It borrows its high tone from the acting style that, in modern times, is seen as bombastic. There's no ambiguity or irony to The Grand Manner, just lionization and a blunt laying-out of subject and theme.

ORDER
A good one-word title with plenty of meanings. A command, a heirarchy, a state of being, a taxonomy, a selection from a menu: hopefully, the playwright plays around with all of these definitions and more.

OTHELLO
Shakespeare resorted to formula to title his tragedies, though who knows if he even picked the title himself? FYI, the full title is The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice, which tells you exactly what you're going to see. Utilitarian but specific, those eight words allow producers a lot of range for titling, which they don't take advantage of.

PARIS SYNDROME
Who doesn't enjoy a good syndrome? This one's a variation on “Stendhal Syndrome”, which describes a nervous condition tourists get when they're overwhelmed by the art in Florence, Italy. Plus, this phrase works simply as a title, implying a foreigner's adventure in Paris.

SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN
An allusion to the '04 bestseller 90 Minutes in Heaven, a pastor's account of his near-death experience. For some reason, I suspect that the reference is meant ironically―maybe that's just my own stereotype of NY theater artists as agnostics who're more focused on the here-and-now?

SUMMERWORKS FESTIVAL 2010
I can't imagine a duller title for a summer theater festival, except maybe Summer Theater Festival. Do they produce new plays, free outdoor Shakespeare, puppet dramas or what? This gun-metal grey title isn't telling.

Monday Night Title Bout (May 24)

2010-05-26T10:21:00.000-07:00

PROPHECY

Only one title this week, and it's a squib. One word, full of portention yet maddeningly vague. It could serve as the alternate title for Oedipus, you know? Or maybe it's a 1960s jazz piece? Try harder.

Monday Night Title Bout (May 17)

2010-05-18T10:24:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings about the week's shows for Metromix NY. I'm usually disappointed by what playwrights choose to call their work, so I'm reviewing their titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through the link to my listings on Metromix NY.

DUSK RINGS A BELL
A lovely title but an odd one. If you try to take the image literally (a doorbell at twilight?), it slips away into metaphor (death at the door?). It's even better when you consider the idiom “rings a bell”, in the sense of a vague memory.

JACK'S PRECIOUS MOMENT
Another good title! It specifies a dramatic event, yet that “precious” makes the “moment” so fleeting. Jack, although a common nickname, here has a fairy tale quality that gives the work an archetypal resonance.

NEW ISLANDS ARCHIPELAGO
This title means to peg the story's location (or maybe destination) but it doesn't do much work. The islands' newness does add interest but also confusion: are they “new” islands or the New Islands? The former is exciting, the latter generic. Also, I suspect it's redundant to use both “islands” and “archipelago”. I'd pick “archipelago” since it's more precise yet more unconventional.

PATERNITY
Well, we know the theme of the show! This one doesn't offer much ambiguity, but maybe the execution will show it to have some depth...

YEAR ZERO
Not a bad try, if a little portentous. “Year Zero” suggests an inciting event of historical proportions. But a glance at Wikipedia confirms that it's dreadfully common: three albums, five songs, and two books, plus a few movies about Cambodia―where the phrase refers to revolutionary policies of the Khmer Rouge.

Monday Night Title Bout (May 10)

2010-05-11T09:23:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings about the week's shows for Metromix NY. I'm usually disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work. So I'm reviewing the titles now. Not the shows (I haven't seen them yet) just the titles. To read about the content of each show, click through the link to my listings on Metromix NY.

THE BILBAO EFFECT
A critical term for how building commissions, especially in out-of-the-way places, select high-profile architects so the work will lure tourists & good press (named for the Guggenheim in Bilbao, Spain). It doesn't quite have everyday currency, but it's nice & specific. So we know that this show involves architects seeking work and maybe even the tensions between acclaim, aesthetic talent, & money.

KILLING WOMEN
Gerunds are useful tools for titling. Is “Killing” an adjective or a verb here? Are women doing the killing or the dying? A canny writer will make sure that both interpretations fit.

Monday Nite Title Bout (May 3)

2010-05-03T16:38:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings about the week's shows for Metromix NY. I'm usually disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work: most of them are't even trying to tempt you into the theater. So I'm reviewing the titles now. And if you want to read my reviews of shows, click here.

THE GLASS HOUSE
I like this title, despite or maybe because it draws on a cliché. It plays on prior knowledge, a tactic that makes you feel smart. And it directs us to that glass house: clever, since the saying itself focuses on the people who live there. And by the final curtain, it will presumably be shattered by the play's conflict.

THE HOUSEWIVES OF MANNHEIM
This formulation―“The X-people of Y-place”―is right after “protagonist's name” in recipes for a title. Here, “housewives” set up the cast and possibly a theme (female domain? feminist emancipation?). Mannheim's a large city in Germany. But is the show about hausfrauen, or are they just mentioned anecdotally?

THE MASTER BUILDER
Like the titles to many classics, The Master Builder is a brand as much as a descriptor. I find it a little unwieldy and portentous―but I suppose that's the intent, given Ibsen's interest in genius & creation. The original Norwegian title, FYI, is Bygmester Solness, which adds the protagonist's name to his title for specificity & subtly alludes to the sun (=Sol; see the play's Icarus theme).

THE METAL CHILDREN
This curiosity could go several ways, an artful ambiguity that the play may (or may not) clear up. Adding “metal” to “children” shows real poetry. It turns children―happy, playful―into mechanized metaphors. Or it's the opposite, maybe “metal” refers to the rock genre: rebellious teens who scare parents with outré iconography.

OLIVER PARKER!
Evidently, her producers convinced Liz Meriwether that Oliver! was a glib, terrible title and that begging confusion with a popular (but awful) musical was counterproductive to finding your audience. The title's been augmented but it's still pretty bad. “Who's Oliver Parker? A nobody―the punctuation is ironic! Har har.”

THIS WIDE NIGHT
Even though it lacks specificity about the show's content, This Wide Night works as a title. It's unique, humble, and interesting: modifying “night” with “wide” makes sense poetically if not literally. And it nails down the action to one night. It's the sort of title that makes me optimistic for the playwright's ability to write.

THROUGH THE NIGHT
I'm conflicted about Through the Night. I enjoy its sense of the movement of time―it's interesting how this “night” feels hurried and full of momentum, whereas the “wide night” above feels reflective, even brooding. But the near-reference to the folk lullaby/carol brings this one a little close to cliché.

THE TRUTH: A TRAGEDY
Solid construction but lacking euphony; it's a utilitarian set of words that impart depth and artistry via sheer weight of connotation. And it communicates a sense of irony, though I'm not sure how; maybe “tragedy” implies a fictional nature, which plays both with & against “truth”?

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And on a personal note: happy birthday to Lady Hotspur!

Monday Nite Title Bout (April 26)

2010-04-26T20:57:00.000-07:00

Every week, I compose listings about the week's shows for Metromix NY. I'm usually disappointed by the titles that playwrights choose for their work: most of them don't entice me into the theater. So I'm reviewing the titles.

BANANA SHPEEL
I think. On its own, “spiel” is a great word: it has the connotation of a juicy story, plus it's German/Yiddish for “play”. Add the image of a classic pratfall and you've got a clever cross-lingual pun that might only work in NYC.

THE BELLE OF BELFAST
The echoing in this title helps it stick in the mind. And with just a touch of lyricism to “belle”, it re-emphasizes the Irish setting of Belfast and pegs a protagonist for us. Good one.

THE BURNT-PART BOYS
I have no idea what to make of this title. What's a “burnt-part” and how does it modify “boys”? Maybe it's some sort of club, a nod to other insiders that will get explored in the show. But if you know nothing about the play, this title doesn't help you.

DE NOVO
Latin phrases are a flag for pretension―especially when they're legal jargon like de novo.

THE ELABORATE ENTRANCE OF CHAD DEITY
A rare, truly great title! There's real poetry to “elaborate entrance”, not just in the phrase's assonance but in its rhythm. It also sets up good expectations for a specific event in the show. And “Chad Deity” is a great name, a little satiric or allegorical. Take it all together, the title implies a thrilling deus ex machina.

GRACELAND
This show isn't a rock opera of Paul Simon's 1986 Grammy-winner, nor is it set at Elvis's homestead. Nope, it refers to a large cemetery in Chicago―which is okay when you're a Chicago playwright working in your hometown but less so when you get an out-of-town premiere. Why beg the confusion? Maybe because the word promises an actual or metaphoric setting for a transcendent experience.

LASCIVIOUS SOMETHING
What works here is the seesaw contrast between the precision, density, and sibilance of “lascivious” and the vague, dull, cloddish-sounding “something”. Though it's a dangerously generic title (“something” don't contain much information), the poetry helps to counter that.

LETTERS TO THE END OF THE WORLD
This title sounds like a 1950s sci-fi paperback―which isn't an insult! It creates an atmosphere with only a few words: it takes a whimsical pessimism to address letters to “the end of the world.” And it begs the question of what period we live in, the writer's or the recipient's. Even if “end of the world” is metaphorical, it sounds cool.

PASSION PLAY
The name of an entire genre gets a workout. Passion plays are traditional dramas depicting Christ's martyrdom. But this title also encompasses the modern romantic connotation of “passion”, with a touch of ambiguity: Passion Play could be the punning title to a rom-com (the fun of “play”). Or it could be borrowing sobriety from the medieval genre for a operatic melodrama. Too much? Maybe.

RESTORATION
As always, the caveat of the one-word title: not much information. But Restoration isn't dull; it's got a lot of meanings that the play could illuminate. It could allude to art/architecture, to a position of power, to the period of English history. It could (and probably does) refer to the protagonist's arc as well. Not bad, for a one-word title.