“He’s gone over the edge,” I hear you whispering. “Surely he understands that True Grit is a movie, not a piece of theatre. He only writes about theatre. And doesn’t he know that alternate, subsequent movies are remakes, not revivals?” Rest assured, I am quite aware of the facts. I can absolutely distinguish between a film and play, just as I can distinguish between the book True Grit by Charles Portis, the 1969 film of True Grit, based on the novel, with a screenplay by Marguerite Roberts and directed by Henry Hathaway; and the 2010 film of True Grit, written and directed by Joel and Ethan Coen. In the past two weeks, I have read the novel, watched the 1969 film on DVD and seen the 2010 film twice in the theatre. I have done so because I am utterly fascinated by the various versions, and believe they illustrate an issue that is essential to appreciating the multiple perspectives that can be brought to bear on oft-revived plays, even if in this case the medium is the movies. When we see a theatrical revival, we are, in most cases, watching the same text interpreted afresh by a new set of artists – director, designers, actors and so on. I say “in most cases” because of late we have seen revivals that tinker with text: the last Broadway incarnation of Lawrence and Lee’s Inherit the Wind reportedly had the fat trimmed away, a vestige of an era when plays were regularly more discursive, and Shakespeare plays have often lost scenes that the director feels no longer play properly to modern audiences, or simply make the evening too long (the completeHamlet, anyone?). But even with minor textual tampering, the spine of the play remains. The various productions then work from the text to showcase the director’s vision of an often classic work. Simon McBurney staged a nighttime storm that is normally only spoken of in retrospect in Arthur Miller’s All My Sons; Daniel Sullivan added a wordless scene of Shylock’s baptism to the recent Merchant of Venice; David Cromer briefly, startlingly abandoned the long-maintained spartan setting of Our Town. In some cases no scenes need be appended; shifts in period, pacing, casting and so on can reveal a piece of dramatic literature as new, and in many of those cases, knowledge of the earlier version helps the innovation to stand out in greater relief. Now back to True Grit. I had seen the 1969 film, which won as Oscar for John Wayne as Rooster Cogburn, the marshal who “likes to pull a cork,”, sometime in the 1970s. I no doubt saw it on TV, interrupted by commercials, in those pre-Netflix, pre-DVD, pre-VCR, pre-cable days of my youth. I also read the novel about that time as well. I am certain that I haven’t seen the film or read the book in at least 30 years. So when I began watching the Coen brothers’ new version, which was promoted as being truer to the book than the Hathaway film, I was struck by constant feelings of déjà vu. The general shape of scenes, even dialogue, was startlingly familiar and, as I watched I had this sense of reliving a story I knew pretty well, even at 30 years remove. This sent me back to the first movie and, as I watched with my wife, who had not joined me for the new version nor ever seen “the original,” I began reciting dialogue along with the 1969 cast. Dadgummit, dagnabbit (I’m in the retro western spirit, I’m afraid), the two films were as alike as I suspected in their plotline and their dialogue, and a review of the novel only reinforced the many congruities of the ur-text and its adaptations. And yet. The new True Grit is, to my mind, in every way the superior film. The pace, the tone, the acting, the cinematography, the score – all hew much closer to the spirit of the Portis book and the dark and thrilling coming of age tale he laid out in 1968 (the Wayne film unnecessarily adds a few conventional scenes, notably at the very beginning and end). Many a film student can explain why this is a result of the fundamental changes in the Western that took place around the time the first True Gritwas released (the opening of Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch, the inability of young filmmaker’s to see tales of the west with unabashed hero worship as we were mired in the Vietnam War) and they would be quite correct. What the Coens have done is to take the same story, a majority of the same scenes and even whole swaths of dialogue, as did Roberts in 1969 (Cogburn’s first appearance in the book, in a courtroom scene, is actually presented as a transcript, looking exactly like a play or film script) and view them through the eyes of 2010, while the Hathaway film was a bit retrograde even when released, belonging more to the 50s than its own era. In theatrical terms, the 2010 True Grit is a revival of the Portis novel, just as the 1969 film was the original production, each a product of the sensibilities of those who made them. Unlike theatre, where we cannot go back and see the original or other productions that may have been produced in ensuing years, film affords us the opportunity to watch an original and its revival, and given their fidelity to the particulars of the book, we can analyze each piece of creativity in its own light. Having written a few weeks ago about understanding the distinction between play and production, the three True Grits offer perhaps the simplest self-administered master class I can of, and each deserve attention from theatergoers – even those who eschew westerns and even movies – for precisely that reason. Frankly, the new True Grit is no remake, nor despite this blog’s title, truly a revival; it is a reinterpretation of a core script, the Portis novel (which carries many encomiums on it’s movie tie-in paperback praising the humor of the story, which is in evidence, but hardly prominent, in both versions). If that’s not enough, then I can also recommend all three for the thrill of hearing a marauding Rooster Cogburn call out, as he rides into what may be oblivion, “Fill your hand, you son of a bitch,” in the voice of John Wayne, in the voice of Jeff Bridges, and in the voice of your own imagination. A final word on revivals, theatre and film. The vast majority of theatrical production is lost to the ages, since theatre exists only as it is performed live; even in the 100 years or so that film has been available to record live performance, what is preserved of theatre is immediately transformed, and a piece of theatre filmed in performance cannot possibly convey the experience of seeing it live. Indeed, despite the efforts of many, recorded theatre can seem grotesque, because the actors are playing for an audience of many, rather than an audience of one, namely the camera. Film is in exactly the opposite situation, with only the earliest or least-cared for films lost to us (though preservationists may argue this point); while early films have disappeared, faded or burned, proportionally the fruits of filmmakers work lives on for each succeeding generation. In many cases, the films of earlier eras surprise us when we see them, seeming dated, slow, overacted. I suspect, ruefully, that if we were able to magically watch the original productions of O’Neill’s great plays, or Shakespeare’s even, they might prove intellectually engaging from our 21st century viewpoint, but they would probably strike us much like old films often do. We may long for the ability to travel back in time, but that might well prove a disappointing trip. Films are relatively permanent, reflecting the period in which they were made. Theatre will always be of the present, reinvented each and every time a cast opens their scripts on the first day of rehearsal. P.S. If you are at all intrigued by the various iterations of True Grit, I also commend to you an excellent, compelling essay by Stanley Fish, which appeared online only viaThe New York Times, in which he compares issues of heroism, virtue and faith as explored in each version. The follow-up comments are also worth scanning, and prove that all art is subject to multiple interpretations, even a single piece on its own.
This post originally appeared on the American Theatre Wing website. |
“True Grit,” In Revival
January 10th, 2011 § 0 comments § permalink
An Awful Lot of Plays & Musicals About Theatre
January 3rd, 2011 § 0 comments § permalink
Lest you think me an opportunist, I would like to declare that I had this blog on my mind since I first wrote the paired blogs “37 Flicks Theatre Lovers Should Know” and “13 Docs That Theatre Lovers Should Know” in late November. However, the overwhelming response to that effort did inform how I’ve gone about this new one.
From the title, the focus of this list is presumably quite obvious: it’s a catalogue of plays that focus on the act of theatre and the people who make it. It is, like its predecessors, in no way meant to be definitive, but rather to prompt reveries of plays once seen or dreams of plays yet to be seen; it will hopefully also flush out many more ideas of plays on this theme and indeed suggestions are welcomed in the comments section at the end of the list. That said, it is more comprehensive, lest I face more aggrieved fans of omitted shows.
As I suspected, I heard from many people with very strong opinions on the earlier blog, some of whom either missed or ignored the caveats I had set down. But ever one to beat a dead horse, let me say that even with contributions from the Twitterverse, who are individually thanked at the end of this piece, there are bound to be glaring omissions once again. So go ahead: be the first to point them out, and tell us about them; I am vastly more interested in conversation than declaration.
While I will at times arbitrarily choose to include plays that go beyond the legit theatre, that remains my main focus. So if you miss seeing a show about vaudeville, opera, burlesque, dance, choral singing or other forms of performance, feel free to add them as well. I’ve had my work cut out for me as it is. Also, unlike films which are fixed versions of a script, and complete in and of themselves, a list of plays focuses only on the text, not any particular production or interpretation; because many of these plays became movies, there’s some crossover with my earlier lists.
I found it interesting that even as I collated this assemblage of truncated synopses, a number of similar plot turns and character types revealed themselves, which means either that plays about theatre are based upon prior plays about theatre – or that there are common experiences in the theatre no matter where or how you came into the field. You’ll also note certain authors who have chronicled the stage more than once (I’m looking at you George S. Kaufman, Stephen Sondheim, Terrence McNally, Ira Levin, Comden & Green, Ken Ludwig, Noel Coward, Moss Hart, Kander & Ebb and Neil Simon) as well as some true-life theatre folk (Hello, Shakespeare! Hi, Chekhov! Welcome, all you Barrymores! Right this way, Mr. Ziegfeld!) who are the subjects of repeat scrutiny. Prison, for some reason, as well as Nazis, community theatre, Richard III and tha Mafia are also recurring motifs. Discuss, if you wish.
On a thematic note, I should say that the dictum of “write what you know” is not unique to literature, and we see countless self-portraits by artists, musical compositions reflecting the composer’s mood or experience, and so on. And so it is no surprise that playwrights, book writers, composers and lyricists would be drawn to the world they inhabit, both in loathing and in love. Some playwrights have to distance themselves, it seems, and consequently write about those in other creative endeavors (note Donald Margulies’ plays about artists, photojournalists and prose writers) and consequently aren’t enumerated here, but many more want to have at (in the many ways implied by that phrase) their muse and their burden, life in the theatre.
1. ACCENT ON YOUTH by Samson Raphelson A successful author of light comedies, Stephen Gaye, pushes his much-younger secretary, whom he loves, to take a leading role in his newest work, Old Love, only to find that he has also pushed her into the arms of an actor closer to her age, mirroring the plot of the new play itself – which is, uncharacteristically, a tragedy. Perhaps he should have known.
2. THE ACT by George Furth, John Kander and Fred Ebb Only the second entry and our premise is already stretched, by this musical/concert in which a film star who’s losing her luster seeks to regain it with an autobiographical Vegas act.
3. THE ACTOR by Horton Foote Much like the young Foote himself, the actor of the play’s title is 15-year-old Horace, who wants to attend acting school but runs up against his Texan parents’ more pragmatic expectations.
4. THE ACTOR’S NIGHTMARE by Christopher Durang An accountant named for the theatre’s favorite anonymous pseudonym, George Spelvin, is suddenly thrust upon the wicked stage with zero preparation in this curtain-raiser most often paired with Durang’s Sister Mary Ignatius.
5. AMY’S VIEW by David Hare A debate about the power of theatre and the influence of newer media is threaded throughout this story of a great actress and her daughter spanning their lives over 16 years. As with most of Hare’s plays, the personal and artistic themes are interwoven with, and at times parallel, political issues in England.
6. ANTON IN SHOW BUSINESS by Jane Martin Stop me if you’ve heard this one: “A stage veteran, a neophyte and a TV star walk into a production of Chekhov’s The Three Sisters at a regional theatre in Texas….” Hilarity ensues.
7. APPLAUSE by Betty Comden, Adolph Green, Charles Strouse, and Lee Adams The classic film about a scheming understudy and the leading lady whose life she covets, remade as a musical, perhaps the only one to ever feature the annual Tony Awards presentation as its opening scene (replacing the film’s fictional Sarah Siddons Award).
8. AUDITION by Jane Martin One of the many monologues that make up the pseudonymous author’s breakthrough work Talking With, it’s a great example of how not to get a part.
9. BABES IN ARMS by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart “Hey kids, my vaudevillian parents are out of town, so let’s stay out of the work farm here on Long Island and put on a show!”
10. A BACKER’S AUDITION by Douglas Bernstein and Denis Markell The sometimes humiliating ritual of presenting a show for wealthy individuals who just might choose to invest in its future life is the target for this gentle musical satire focused on Raggedy Romeo, a project that the widowed Esther Kanner has inherited from her late husband.
11. BARRYMORE by William Luce Weeks Before his death in 1942, a failing John Barrymore struggles to mount a revival of his 1920 success in Richard III, in what is essentially a one-man show save for the offstage voice of a prompter.
12. BELLS ARE RINGING by Betty Comden, Adolph Green and Jule Styne An answering service operator (anyone remember those?) becomes the muse of one of her company’s clients, Jeff Moss, a playwright with writer’s block in this musical comedy.
13. THE BIG BANG by Boyd Graham and Jed Feuer Another musical about a backer’s audition for a musical, in this case one about the history of the world from the very beginning, expected to be the most expensive in history ($83 million) and longer than Nicholas Nickleby, but presented for investors solely by the show’s two authors. Feuer is the son of Cy Feuer, noted producer and director.
14. BIRDS OF PARADISE by Winnie Holzman and David Evans A musical in which an amateur troupe stages The Seagull, having lured a Broadway has-been to direct and star based largely on his attraction to the group’s ingénue.
15. BOOTH by Austin Pendleton (aka Booth is Back aka Booth is Back in Town) A portrait of Junius Brutus Booth, who acted with Kean but emigrated to the U.S. to ply his trade grandly in the new nation, it evolves into an Oepidal struggle when his son Edwin, pursuing a simpler performing style, seeks to enter the family business.
16. BOX OFFICE OF THE DAMNED by Michael Ogborn This musical about a day in the life of a box office staff is included for two key reasons: a) because I’m unaware of any other musicals (or plays, for that matter) set in a theatre box office, and b) because the author was inspired by his tenure in the box office of the Annenberg Center in Philadelphia, where your humble blogger had his first paid job in the theatre a few years earlier.
17. BREAK A LEG by Ira Levin A beleaguered producer conspires against a particularly nasty critic in an effort to drive the pen-wielding viper mad. Oh, yes: it’s a comedy.
18. BREAKING LEGS by Tom Dulack A New England academic is so desperate to see his new play produced that he’s willing to seek financing from those most reliable of producers: the mob.
19. BROADWAY by George Abbott and Philip Dunning A Broadway hoofer and a hard-boiled mobster fight it out over a dame, an aspiring dancer, in this amalgam of gangland drama and backstage intrigue. Not a musical, it may well be the only show in history to have been directed twice on Broadway by its author (Abbott) with 61 years between the productions.
20. A BROADWAY MUSICAL by William F. Brown, Charles Strouse and Lee Adams Strouse and Adams’ own experiences on the 1964 musical Golden Boy with Sammy Davis Jr. were the impetus for this one-night-wonder of a show about the co-opting of a black author’s play as the source for a main-stem tuner about a basketball star.
21. BUFFALO GAL by A.R. Gurney A television actress returns to her hometown of Buffalo, NY to star help save the local regional theatre by starring in a production ofThe Seagull. The sad irony of the play is that it was the last new Gurney produced by Studio Arena Theatre, the main resident theatre in Buffalo, Gurney’s hometown.
22. THE BUTTER AND EGG MAN by George S. Kaufman A hotel clerk from Chillicothe comes to New York to bankroll a Broadway play in order to finance his own hotel back home, but the show bombs in its out-of-town tryout, prompting its producers to drop it like a hot potato – and leading the clerk to whip it into shape himself.
23. BY JEEVES by Alan Ayckbourn and Andrew Lloyd Webber This Wodehouse-suggested musical uses a story crafted entirely by Sir A, which blurs the line between play and play-within-a-play, as the denizens of a local church hall act out a misadventure of Bertie Wooster’s in order to prevent him from giving his intended banjo recital. Not to be confused with the earlier Jeeves, by the same authors, a notorious West End flop.
24. CABARET by Joe Masteroff, John Kander and Fred Ebb Although the title of the show makes clear that this is not set in the world of legit theatre, aficionados will pillory me for not including it. The habitués of a Berlin nightclub and their intertwined lives show the progression of Germany from the louche era of kabarett to the rise of Nazism, which would end that era of low-life creativity and self-expression.
25. CHEKHOV IN YALTA by John Driver and Jeffrey Haddow Set during the final years of the author’s life, it is a romantic roundelay of love and desire set amidst the Moscow Art Theatre set, with appearances by the producer Vladimir Nemirovich-Danchenko, actress Olga Knipper and director Konstantin Stanislavsky.
26. CHILDREN OF PARADISE: SHOOTING AN DREAM by Steven Epp, Felicity Jones, Dominique Serrand and Paul Walsh The making of Marcel Carne’s acclaimed backstage film is the subject of this collaboratively created drama by Minneapolis’ sadly defunct Theatre de la Jeune Lune. An epic work, a signature piece for the company and perhaps one that may never be staged again, it is included here as penance for leaving the movie Les Enfants du Paradis off of my film list last month.
27. A CHORUS LINE by James Kirkwood, Nicholas Dante, Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban Now and forever, the ultimate musical about auditions and the many reasons that performers make their lives in the theatre, famously drawn from interviews with the original cast.
28. A CHORUS OF DISAPPROVAL by Alan Ayckbourn A mild milquetoast joins an amateur theatrical group that’s preparing a production of The Beggar’s Opera and proceeds to unwittingly upset the intricate power structure and romantic entanglements of the incestuous troupe.
29. CIRCLE MIRROR TRANSFORMATION by Annie Baker Less about the theatre than about the self-revelation that acting requires, this comedy set in a fictional Vermont town offers instant recognition for anyone who has ever studied acting, first out of the gentle satire, and later the genuine truths that the process must unearth.
30. A CLASS ACT by Linda Kline and Lonny Price with music and lyrics by Edward Kleban The lyricist for A Chorus Line, Kleban, is the subject of this posthumous tribute musical, emphasizing (and ultimately realizing) his desire to see a musical produced which employed not only his words, but his music as well.
31. THE COCKTAIL HOUR by A.R. Gurney Perhaps a glimpse into scenes from the author’s own life, as a playwright informs his very WASP-y parents that his newest play is based upon their family, meeting with the expected resistance.
32. COMPLEAT FEMALE STAGE BEAUTY by Jeffrey Hatcher The story of Ned Kynaston, an actor famed for playing female roles in the English era when women couldn’t appear on stage, and the effect on his career of the end of that prohibition. Adapted by Hatcher for film as Stage Beauty.
33. CRAZY FOR YOU by Ken Ludwig with songs by George and Ira GershwinTaking off from the Gershwins’ Girl Crazy, but interpolating songs from elsewhere in their catalogue, Ludwig indulges his love of backstage stories by contriving the new story of a “Zangler (read Ziegfeld) Follies” wanna-be, Bobby Child, who heads out west where he contrives to put on a show in the town of Deadrock, Nevada in order to save the local theatre and win the heart of local gal Polly – much to the consternation of his fiancée.
34. CRESSIDA by Nicholas Wright Set just a bit earlier than play #32, this tale of a young actor joining an English acting troupe in the days when only men could appear on the stage offers a plum role in the character of John Shank, actor, scout and mentor of a troupe that must thrive upon youth even as he grows older.
35. A CRITIC AND HIS WIFE by John Ford Noonan After “losing” the George Jean Nathan Award for Criticism, critic Len Oppenheim takes a leave of absence from his job in order to work on his first novel – only to place himself into direct competition with his wife, also an author.
36. CRITIC’S CHOICE by Ira Levin New York Herald Tribune critic Walter Kerr and his wife, the playwright Jean Kerr (Mary, Mary), were the inspiration for and target of Levin’s comedy, wherein a critic must decide whether or not to review his wife’s dreadful play in its Broadway premiere. Believe it or not, there’s a happy ending – with the critic’s integrity intact.
37. A CRY OF PLAYERS by William Gibson The author of The Miracle Worker mused on the life of one young Will, living in outside London, who, though married, is a bit of a layabout and ne’er-do-well, despite his tendency to high-flown language. Though we never hear the name of his hometown, or even his surname, it’s quite clear that we’re watching the formative years of Shakespeare at Stratford.
38. CRYSTAL & FOX by Brian Friel A traveling troupe may see its final days as one of the partners decides it’s time to get off the road.
39. CURTAINS Rupert Holmes, John Kander and Fred Ebb Originally titled Who Killed David Merrick?, this musical centers on backstage murders as a production tries out in Boston, and the local detective who is on the case but always dreamed of being on the stage.
40. THE COUNTRY GIRL by Clifford Odets An alcoholic, forgotten stage actor is given one last chance at glory by a young director who once worshipped the man, and the effect of this possible resurrection on the faded star’s wife, who has stood by his side throughout the decline.
41. DEDICATION by Terrence McNally A married couple dream of opening a children’s theatre company, but to find the funding they so desperately need, they must turn to a wealthy but malevolent woman with her own agenda.
42. DEATHTRAP by Ira Levin “Meta” before we knew what that even was (we thought Levin’s play was simply self-referential), this thriller is about a writer of stage thrillers who encounters the script of a stage thriller, entitled Deathtrap, written by a novice playwright who the more senior author then deigns to collaborate with…or is he planning to steal the young man’s play and do away with the script’s true provenance?
43. THE DRESSER by Ronald Harwood The playwright was once a dresser himself for the English actor-manager Sir Donald Wolfit and he transforms their true life relationship into the tale of a dedicated dresser who selflessly, yet frustratingly, dedicates himself to propping up a figure much like Wolfit in his twilight years.
44. THE DROWSY CHAPERONE by Bob Martin, Don McKellar, Lisa Lambert and Greg MorrisonAlthough the bulk of this musical is the recreation of scenes from the fictional 20′s entertainment that is a show within the show, the framing device of narration by one “Man in Chair” makes this a valentine to theatre and the people who love it, maybe a bit too much and too cattily.
45. THE EASIEST WAY: A STORY OF METROPOLITAN LIFE by Eugene Walter From 1909, a scandalous early tale of a woman who uses the casting couch to her own advantage, among her many “depradations.”
46. ELIZABETH REX by Timothy Findlay A comedy with sober moments depicting the famed Queen distracting herself with William Shakespeare and his company following a performance of Much Ado About Nothing, as she awaits the beading of the Earl of Essex after his failed overthrow attempt.
47. THE ENGLISH CHANNEL by Robert Brustein Set in the plague year of 1593, another look at Shakespeare’s life, as he first encounters his patron the Earl of Southampton, takes a new mistress, “borrows” from the work of other writers, and shifts from poet to playwright. Part of Brustein’s intended Shakespeare trilogy, which also includes Enter William Shakespeare.
48. ENTER LAUGHING by Joseph Stein Drawn from Carl Reiner’s semi-autobiographical novel, about a young Jewish machinist’s helper who struggles to break into show business, it was an endless literary source, adapted by Reiner and Stein as a film, and by Stein (with Stan Daniels) as the musical So Long 174th Street, which is now known once again by the original title.
49. THE ENTERTAINER by John Osborne Springing from the English Music Hall tradition, rather than the legitimate theatre, this scathing play from the author of Look Back in Anger plumbs the dark well of a performer’s soul as retired headliner Billy Rice’s dismal home life is interspersed with “numbers” from his career which only serve to highlight his anger and despair.
50. EQUIVOCATION by Bill Cain Will Shag (read Shakespeare) is ordered to create a play about the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 at the behest of King James I but ends up creating Macbeth instead. Jam-packed with questions about art, politics and the Jesuitical concept of equivocation vs. truth, including some parallels to the George W. Bush administration as well.
51. FAM AND YAM by Edward Albee A brief one-act in which a Young American Playwright confronts a Famous American Playwright about the commercialization of the theatre.
52. FOLLIES by James Goldman and Stephen Sondheim Former showgirls from “Weisman’s (read Ziegfeld’s) Follies” gather for a reunion before their former theatrical home is torn down, recalling the romance and the romances of their performing days and the sadder realities of their present day lives.
53. 45 SECONDS FROM BROADWAY by Neil Simon Just as in real life, the Edison Café (aka the Polish Tea Room) is the hangout for aspiring and has-been actors, directors, writers as well as the sometime unknowing tourist, lovingly commemorated herein.
54. 42ND STREET by Michael Stewart and Mark Bramble, with songs by Harry Warren and Al Dubin The flip, sunny side of All About Eve/Applause, this stage adaptation of the darker 1933 film features an understudy who gets her big break when a big musical’s leading lady can’t do the show on opening night.
55. THE FROGS by Burt Shevelove, Stephen Sondheim and (later on) Nathan Lane First a play with music mounted in a Yale University swimming pool in 1974 under the guidance of Shevelove, this free adaptation of Aristophanes play was yet again adapted by Lane 30 years later as a full-fledged musical with new contributions from the composer. Dionysus, god of wine and drama, travels to Hades in order to bring back a writer to soothe troubled times. Topical, on many topics, the show reaches its climax with a debate on art between Shakespeare and George Bernard Shaw, replacing Aeschulyus and Euripides from the original Greek.
56. FUNNY GIRL by Jule Styne, Bob Merrill and Isobel LennartA musical recounting of Ziegfeld Follies star comedienne Fanny Brice’s early years as she builds her career and then risks it all for the love of gambler Nick Arnstein.
57. GATES OF GOLD by Frank McGuinness The founders of the Gate Theatre in Ireland, Hilton Edwards and Micheál MacLiammóir, are the models for the main characters of Conrad and Gabriel in this story of the latter’s final days, as they come to terms with their professional and personal lives together.
58. GHETTO by Joshua Sobol Set in the Vilna ghetto during World War II, the play portrays the efforts of the head of the Jewish police to ostensibly save the lives of many artists by encouraging the prisoner to create a work of theatre and the resistance to and subverting of this idea by the incarcerated company.
59. THE GLORIOUS ONES by Lynn Ahrens & Stephen Flaherty The creative and personal trials and tribulations of a commedia dell’arte troupe as that form, and the characters, evolve.
60. THE GOODBYE GIRL by Neil Simon, Marvin Hamlisch and David Zippel From the popular movie of the same name, a romantic comedy in which another of Simon’s odd couples – Paula, a former dancer with a young daughter, and Elliot, an actor – become apartment-mates and eventually a couple. Prized for its satirical version of an experimental take on Richard III in which Elliot appears.
61. THE GRAND MANNER by A.R. Gurney Based upon his brief boyhood encounter with the celebrated actress Katharine Cornell, Gurney invents what he wished that visit had been, portraying the backstage triangle between Cornell, her lover and general manager Gertrude Macy, and her husband and director Guthrie McClintic.
62. GYPSY by Jule Styne, Stephen Sondheim and Arthur Laurents Once again, really about vaudeville and burlesque, but you’ll stone me to death if I pass it by. Considered by many to be one of the most psychologically astute of all musicals, it lays out the archetypal stage mother, living off of and vicariously through her performing children, getting her triumph and comeuppance all at once as her less favored child becomes a genuine star.
63. THE HABIT OF ART by Alan Bennett A meeting between W.H. Auden and Benjamin Britten is subject of Caliban’s Day, the play-within-a-play that is about to be rehearsed at the National Theatre (where Habit premiered). The framing device adds an additional layer of contemplation about the nature of artistic pursuits which is already the subject of Caliban.
64. HAY FEVER by Noël Coward Reportedly inspired by a weekend sojourn of Coward’s at the home of actress Laurette Taylor and with the leading role of a recently retired actress, Hay Fever is decidedly theatrical, but not wholly devoted to the stage, save for the question of whether the aforementioned retirement is really just a respite.
65. I HATE HAMLET by Paul Rudnick Written while Rudnick was living in one of John Barrymore’s former apartments, this comedy conjures Barrymore back to that locale in order to cajole its fictional resident, a young actor tempted by TV stardom, into instead appearing on stage as Hamlet. A tabloid cause célèbre in its Broadway debut, when star Nicol Williamson strayed from the fight choreography and wounded his younger costar.
66. THE ILLUSION by Pierre Corneille Familiar to most via its adaptation by Tony Kushner, this story of a father who seeks his son by calling on the powers of a great magician is germane to our topic, but to say more would prove a spoiler to those who don’t know it.
67. INSPECTING CAROL by Daniel Sullivan and the Seattle Rep Company This inventive blending of the classic The Inspector General by Nikolai Gogol and every stage adaptation of A Christmas Carol ever produced turns on a regional theatre’s mistaking a data processor (and aspiring actor) for a National Endowment for the Arts onsite evaluator, who is consequently enthusiastically drawn into the theatre company desperate for “his” approval in order to secure a grant.
68. IT’S ONLY A PLAY by Terrence McNallyFirst seen in engagements out of town (where it closed) as Broadway, Broadway, this reworked comedy is set at a restaurant in the now bygone days when the creative team, cast and assorted revelers alike awaited the first appearance of a show’s reviews, in this case something optimistically named The Golden Egg. Knowledge of the Broadway scene in the late ’70s and early ’80s may be a prerequisite for full enjoyment.
69. JACK: A NIGHT ON THE TOWN WITH JOHN BARRYMORE by Nicol WilliamsonPerhaps having felt constrained by playing Rudnick’s fictional version, Williamson fashioned his own one-man show based on the life of the famed actor, which, perhaps intentionally, focuses on the often erratic behavior its subject, mirroring that of its star/author.
70. JENNIE by Howard Dietz, Arthur Schwartz and Arnold Schulman The early life of the famed actress Laurette Taylor (from a biography by her daughter) was the jumping off point for this musical, a vehicle for leading lady Mary Martin, about a married couple touring the country in popular melodramas. It ran a little over two months on Broadway, a particular flop given the presence of its star.
71. JITTERS by David French This 1979 Canadian comedy traffics in the now-politically incorrect premise that real theatre only happens in New York, as it chronicles the backstage calamities of a small theatre company that dreams of sending its newest work, The Care and Treatment of Roses, to the Big Apple.
72. KISS ME, KATE by Cole Porter, Sam Spewack and Bella Spewack The backstage squabbles mirror the onstage plot as a musical of Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew is performed by warring ex-lovers for whom the flame may not have truly flickered out.
73. LA BÊTE by David Hirson The eternal struggle between pleasing the populace and creating art on stage is the subject of this rhymed challenge of a play, which carries a strong whiff of Molière in its coupleted debate.
74. LEND ME A TENOR by Ken Ludwig This door slamming, dual identity farce owes as much to the Marx Brothers as it does to the opera world in which it’s set. Not about theatre, but it does remind us that self-absorbed performers, aspiring talents, good girls, femmes fatale and apoplectic managers exist in every performing field. We are not alone.
75. A LIFE IN THE THEATRE by David Mamet Two working actors, one young, one veteran, employed at a theatre company of seemingly constantly rotating rep, meet up backstage and on stage in this affectionate tribute those who make, well, their living on stage.
76. LIGHT UP THE SKY by Moss Hart A backstage satire of theatre in which the author of an allegorical epic finds himself undone by all of his collaborators during a show’s Boston tryout, before they get their comeuppance in the final act.
77. THE LITTLE DOG LAUGHED by Douglas Carter Beane Managing to satirize theatre and the movies at the same time, this comedy concerns itself with the challenges of an actor whose gay relationship runs up against his agent’s unequivocal belief that coming out will ruin his career by losing him the starring role in a film based upon a hit play…about a gay relationship.
78. A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC by Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler From Bergman’s Smiles of a Summer Night, a multifaceted portrait of mismatched lovers that features Desirée, a leading lady fearing her looming days as a grand dame, and looking to leave a life on the road for something more settled.
79. LONG DAY’S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT by Eugene O’Neill Not a play about the theatre, per se, but two of the four characters are actors and the lives of the other two are unquestionably impacted by the itinerant lives that dominate their own. Based on the playwright’s own family, it has indelibly delineated James Tyrone, a tight-fisted, frightened man trapped forever as a stage hero in material he considers beneath him, and his namesake, James, Jr. (also seen in A Moon for the Misbegotten), forced onto the stage with neither the love nor ambition that has kept his father going for decades.
80. MAGIC TIME by James Sherman A summer theatre dressing room is the setting for an acting company that has begun to assimilate their onstage roles, on the verge of their final performance of Hamlet. The author says he was inspired by the early days of the Steppenwolf Theatre Company.
81. MAN OF LA MANCHA by Mitch Leigh, Dale Wasserman and Joe Darion Another show that we tend to forget is a play within a play, the musical opens with author Miguel Cervantes thrown into prison, where he proceeds to weave the tale of Don Quixote de la Mancha, co-opting the convicts into the telling and ultimately gaining their trust.
82. A MAN OF NO IMPORTANCE by Terrence McNally, Lynn Ahrens, and Stephen FlahertyAdapted from the film, the musical tells of a Dublin bus driver determined to mount an amateur production of Wilde’s Salome, who is undone when the star of the local theatre troupe, cast in a supporting role, declares the play indecent, causing the company to lose their church hall venue, and when his dawning realization of his own homosexuality is revealed to his narrow-minded community.
83. THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart An imperious and impervious critic takes over a household while laid up with an injury, with doppelgangers of Harpo Marx and Noël Coward thrown in for good measure. Created as a vehicle for, and based upon, the critic Alexander Woollcott, who relinquished the Broadway role to Monty Woolley, although he later appeared in the show’s West Coast debut.
84. ME AND JULIET by Richard Rodgers & Oscar Hammerstein II The backstage romance between a chorus girl and an assistant stage manager is threatened by a jealous stagehand during the run of an experimental musical-dance theatre piece. Set, uniquely for its time, six months into the run of a show, rather than during its creation or opening struggles.
85. MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart This experimental play was a tale told in reverse, beginning in 1934 with the opening night party for playwright Richard Niles newest show, then working backwards as we see his career build, his closest friends driven away and his integrity disintegrating until we reach 1916 as Niles delivers an optimistic college graduation speech.
86. MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG by Stephen Sondheim and George Furth A musical reworking of the Kaufman and Hart play, updated to travel backwards from 1976 to 1957, as we see successful filmmaker Franklin Shepard abandon his career as a musical theatre songwriter and betray the ideals he youthfully celebrated in his college anthem, “The Hills of Tomorrow.”
87. MISTAKES WERE MADE by Craig Wright A low-rent producer desperately works the phones to convince a major movie star to take a role in a new play about the French Revolution, willing to rewrite the play and history itself if only he can succeed in securing this piece of sure-fire star casting.
88. MOON OVER BUFFALO by Ken Ludwig Married, fading stage stars are on the verge of calling it quits professionally and personally when they’re forced to hold it together in the hope of one last nig break: as they’re touring in rep withPrivate Lives and Cyrano de Bergerac, famed film Frank Capra is reportedly coming to see them as he seeks a cast for his remake of The Scarlet Pimpernel.
89. THE MOONY SHAPIRO SONGBOOK by Monty Norman and Julian Moore Revues like Ain’t Misbehavin’ and Side by Side by Sondheim get a gently satirical skewering in this fictional meander through some three dozen songs by the imaginary author of the title.
90. MORNING GLORY by Zoe Akins Here’s irony for you: this unproduced play yielded not one but two film versions of the story (the other known as Stage Struck) of a New England girl who heads to the bright light of New York, yes, to make it big on Broadway and manages to do so with some older mentors and a romance with a young playwright.
91. NO CHILD by Nilaja Sun A one-woman show, first performed by its author, based on her own experiences teaching in New York City, a fictionalized version of attempting to lead her students through a production of Our Country’s Good (see #95), paralleling the lives of the convicts in the play with those of the students themselves, in the high security, restrictive world of an inner-city public school.
92. NOISES OFF by Michael Frayn Perhaps the most ingenious backstage play ever invented, this remarkable farce and slapstick tour de force shows us the production of a lame sex comedy from three vantage points: on stage at a late rehearsal, backstage when everything that can go wrong is just about to do so, and back on stage as the production limps along late in its provincial tour.
93. ON THE 20TH CENTURY by Betty Comden, Adolph Green and Cy ColemanThe musical version of #127 (damn you, alphabetical order), this train-bound farce has a down-at-his-heels producer desperate to convince his former protégé and lover, now a big star, to return to his troupe and, wouldn’t you know it, his embrace.
94. ORSON’S SHADOW by Austin Pendleton A fictionalized imagining of the circumstances surrounding Welles’ production of Ionesco’s Rhinoceros for the National Theatre in 1960, as well as his distillation of Shakespeare’s Falstaff plays into Chimes at Midnight, requiring actors who could convincingly play Welles, Laurence Olivier, Vivien Leigh and Olivier’s third-wife-to-be Joan Plowright.
95. OUR COUNTRY’S GOOD by Timberlake Wertenbaker Based upon both historical accounts (some which have proven to be fictional) as well as a novel by Thomas Kenneally (author of Schindler’s List), OCG chronicles the first theatrical production, Farquhar’s The Recruiting Officer, on the continent of Australia, when it was still a British penal colony.
96. OUT OF THE FRYING PAN by Francis Swann Six young actors live together in an apartment strategically located just above that of a Broadway producer in this 1941 comedy, and they get their chance to showcase their talents when the unsuspecting producer stops upstairs to borrow a cooking ingredient needed for his vaunted gumbo recipe.
97. OUT-CRY by Tennessee Williams (aka The Two-Character Play) A brother and sister, he a playwright and she an actress, both struggling with their demons and faded dreams, attempt to make a comeback in a regional theatre production only to find that the rest of the company and the audience has fled in anticipation of their arrival.
98. PASSION PLAY by Sarah Ruhl This wildly ambitious triptych portrays three different towns – one in the middle ages, one in WWII Europe and one in the present day U.S. – as they mount productions of the biblical passion play of Jesus, showing how in each case, the story they enact bleeds into the everyday lives of those who perform it.
99. THE PERSECUTION AND ASSASSINATION OF MARAT AS PERFORMED BY THE INMATES OF THE ASYLUM OF CHARENTON UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE MARQUIS DE SADE by Peter Weiss. I think that pretty well sums it up, don’t you?
100. THE PLAY AT THE CASTLE by Ferenc Molnar/THE PLAY’S THE THING by P.G. Wodehouse/ROUGH CROSSING by Tom Stoppard We aren’t used to remakes in the theatre, but Molnar’s Hungarian original has begotten at least two remakes by celebrated writers, both drawn to the story of producers who must insure that their playwright isn’t distracted by the apparent dalliances of his paramour with another man. While the first two versions are set in a Mediterranean manse, Stoppard took it onto the high seas.
101. PRESENT LAUGHTER by Noël Coward Matinee idol Garry Essendine is beset on all sides by the people in his orbit, among them an obsessed fan, romantic entanglements, a pleading producer and the loyal secretary who tries to keep everyone – including her employer – on track.
102. THE PRODUCERS by Mel Brooks & Thomas Meehan The realization that a corrupt producer could make more money with a flop than with a hit is the engine that drives this now widely well known musical tale, drawn from a film that had long been a cult favorite of those in the theatre biz. The stage musical softens some of the spikier edges of the film as it fashions three love stories, one between a man and the not-so-dumb blonde of his dreams, another between two men who complete each other, and between just about everyone in the story and the stage.
103. THE REAL INSPECTOR HOUND by Tom Stoppard Prefiguring The Muppets’ Statler and Waldorf, two critics, Moon and Birdboot, voice their thoughts and opinions throughout the performance of a substandard country house mystery, often going off on tangents, until they’re drawn into the action of the play itself, blurring the line between stage life and real death.
104. THE REAL THING by Tom Stoppard Smart, witty and successful, Henry is a playwright with the perfect words for any moment and any script – but does he actually know what it means to be in love, and what price must he pay to learn it?
105. RED NOSES by Peter Barnes A medieval monk named Flote seeks to combat a corrupt church and the Black Death by establishing a rag-tag comic troupe of clowns and leading them on a sacred crusade against the inevitable.
106. RED PEPPERS by Noël Coward In the words of its author, who wrote it as a vehicle for himself and Gertrude Lawrence as one of the one-acts that make upTonight at 8:30, “a vaudeville sketch sandwiched between two musical hall songs.”
107. THE REHEARSAL by Jean Anouilh The jaded gamesmanship of the aristocratic set is contrasted with the eager innocence of a young ingénue when a count and his wife set out to mount their own production of Marivaux’s The Double Inconstancy.
108. ROOM SERVICE by Allen Boretz and John Murray An underfunded producer is holed up in his brother-in-law’s hotel with the cast of his newest show, Godspeed, but he has to come up with the money for the hotel bill and the show or risk losing everything to a rival producer.
109. ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD by Tom Stoppard An existential comedy that owes as much to Beckett as it does to Shakespeare, R&G makes this list because as these minor characters from Hamlet observe the real action of Shakespeare’s story, they spend a good bit of time with the troupe that are asked by the melancholy Dane to perform The Murder of Gonzago, or The Mousetrap.
110. THE ROYAL FAMILY by George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber This once contemporaneous satire of the Barrymore clan transforms them into the Cavendishes, a theatrical dynasty of self-dramatizing performers, but the satire also allows for moments in which the love and power of theatre is not only acknowledged, but extolled, securing its enduring place in the canon.
111. SAY, DARLING by Abe Burrows, Marian Bissell & Richard Bissell, Jule Styne, Betty Comden and Adolph Green Drawn from Bissell’s novel about his experiences when his earlier novel 7 1/2 Cents was adapted for Broadway as The Pajama Game, this is usually considered a play with lots of music because all of the songs are from the show within the show, rather than pieces that advance the story. All of the hallmarks of a show in production are here, with scenes of auditions, rehearsals and the fabled out-of-town tryout.
112. THE SCENE by Theresa Rebeck A dedicated Off-Broadway actor whose career never fully blossomed experiences a mid-life crisis as he sees more successful, but less talented and intelligent, individuals lighting up stages and screens, leading him to both question and risk his personal and artistic values.
113. THE SEAGULL by Anton Chekhov While it’s absolutely about more than just theatre, this classic work set at a Russian summer estate explores the timeless struggle between old art and new, both literary and human, with the great actress Arkadina clinging to her youth while confronted with the free spirit of a young aspirant, Nina and the experimental efforts of her playwright son Konstantin.
114. SIDES: THE FEAR IS REAL by the members of Mr. Miyagi’s Theatre Company Endorsed by no less than Wall Street Journal critic Terry Teachout as one of the funniest shows he’s ever seen, Sides is a collection of comic sketches portraying every possible iteration of what can go wrong at an audition.
115. SIX CHARACTERS IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHOR by Luigi Pirandello Another play in which the title serves as a fair synopsis, in this case the aforementioned sextet interrupt the rehearsal of a Pirandello play in order to ask that show’s director to complete their narrative by staging their story, thereby completing it. Be it satire, aburdist or surrealism, it’s unmistakably a seminal work that delves into the act of theatremaking, and the oft-discussed question of whether characters have lives beyond what appears on the page.
116. SMALL TRAGEDY by Craig Lucas Though rooted in the details of a minor production of Oedipus by a small theatre company in Cambridge and the interplay between its incongruous participants, ranging from an on-the-skids Hollywood director to a young mother returning to the stage after a failed marriage, the play expands beyond its theatrical beginning to contrast the production of a tragedy with how we confront one when it comes too close to our own lives.
117. SMITH by Dean Fuller, Tony Hendra and Matt Dubey A dull botanist is suddenly thrust into a musical comedy version of his life in this satire of theatrical conventions that eked out a few short weeks on Broadway in 1973.
118. STAGE DOOR by George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber Living at the Footlights Club during the Depression, aspiring stage actress Terry Randall, newly arrived from her Midwestern home, juggles two beaus – playwright Keith and producer David – while living among the soap opera lives of her fellow boarders.
119. STAGE BLOOD by Charles LudlamThe founder and guiding light of the Ridiculous Theatrical Company took on Shakespeare and acting in general, andHamlet in particular, as a bedraggled troupe attempts their umpteenth performance of Hamlet even though their leading man is drunk to start and dead midway through the performance, at which point a mystery plot kicks in.
120. STAGE FRIGHT by Charles Marowitz Two actors kidnap a critic and threaten to kill him for his past writing, surely the fantasy of many a playwright made (fictional) flesh – although Marowitz has careers as both author and critic. Critic Michael Phillips has suggested that the play’s captured critic, F.F. Charnick, might be named as an almost-anagram of former New York Times drama critic Frank Rich.
121. THEATRE by Guy Bolton and Somerset Maugham Adapted from Maugham’s novel and (much) later adapted twice for the screen as Adorable Julia and Being Julia, this is the now-familiar tale of a married stage couple who are all smiles when the stage lights are on, but harpies (and unfaithful ones at that) in the light of day – until they realize the error of their ways. In its day, Time called it “not very pleasant fun.”
122. THIS IS A PLAY by Daniel McIvor A one-act comedy in which we see actors playing out a bad melodrama but also, more meaningfully, revealing to the audience what’s going through their heads as they act.
123. TICK, TICK…BOOM! by Jonathan Larson Originally performed by the composer himself, this musical quasi-autobiography of Larson questioning both his personal and professional life as he approaches as 30 was reworked by playwright David Auburn after Larson’s death into a three actor piece made all the more poignant because the success so desired by Jon in the show was only achieved posthumously with Rent.
124. [title of show] by Jeff Bowen and Hunter Bell The ultimate meta-musical is about two guys writing a musical. It began life (and plot) as the authors contemplated a submission to a New York musical festival and managed over the course of several productions to find its way to Broadway (as we see in the show, which kept morphing to match its own fortunes). No word on whether the authors have been adding new material for the countless amateur and college productions.
125. THE TORCHBEARERS by George Kelly A small-town amateur theatre group which cannot even decide if the play they’re staging is a comedy or tragedy is tracked through rehearsal, performance and post-show let-down in Kelly’s first play, a stinging satire of artistic poseurs.
126. TRELAWNY OF THE “WELLS” by Arthur Wing Pinero A young actress learns she can only achieve real success once she comes to truly love the craft of acting. After touring with a second rate company and falling for a young man whose parents disapprove of her profession, she captivates the young man’s grandfather, who funds the production that will make her a star.
127. 20TH CENTURY by Ben Hecht, Charles MacArthur and Bruce MilhollandSource of the aforementioned musical (see #93)
128. TWO SHAKESPEAREAN ACTORS by Richard Nelson I suppose the notorious rap wars of the 1990s might be the closest modern parallel, but it’s still difficult to imagine the populace getting incensed enough over dual and dueling productions of Shakespeare plays. But that’s exactly what gave rise to the Astor Place Riots of 1849 and the foundation for this historical play depicting the actions surrounding what may well be the most physical expression of critical opinion.
129. THE UNDERSTUDY by Theresa Rebeck A frazzled stage manager must conduct an understudy rehearsal for a new actor, who turns out to be an old beau who abandoned her, while he’s resentful of covering the part of a comparatively talent-free Hollywood star, who is in turn understudying the play’s actual star. Worth noting: the play in question is by Kafka.
130. WAITING IN THE WINGS by Noël Coward A retirement home for aged actresses is the setting for competition and revelations among great (and not so great) ladies of the stage even after their careers have faded in the twilight, with particular focus on May and Lotta, who haven’t spoken for 30 years.
131. WELL by Lisa Kron Using the construct of a performance piece about Kron’s youth and, in particular, her perpetually afflicted mother, Well slips back and forth across the line between being her story played out and a commentary on the story and its telling. Originally produced with Kron as herself, to heighten the effect.
132. WHAT’S THAT SMELL: THE SONGS OF JACOB STERLING by David Pittu and Randy Redd At a meeting of the fictional “Composers and Lyricists of Tomorrow” (CLOT), our host Leonard Swagg moderates a presentation by the eponymous composer, a ramble through an undistinguished and hilarious oeuvre of mangled musical comedy.
Enough already!
For their suggestions and background insight, my thanks to
@allylouwho
@annarains
@birdinboston
@codydaigle
@culpeperWalker
@dloehr
@doggiedog
@dramaturgs
@elizabeth7577
@ellagreeneyes
@fronkensteen
@galoka
@gwydions
@hilarysutton
@jilllawless
@JimHebert
@kamelrockprod
@kevindaly
@kingduncan42
@levine_SM
@maurajudkis
@megmcsweeney
@mrtylermartins
@nerdbombr
@NewYorkTheater
@pawofthepanther
@philrickaby
@pksfrk
@_plainKate_
@rmspiar
@sbessr
@shamlesspromo
@simsjames
@survivorqueen
@terryteachout
@TheNYGalavant
@321sobel
@TheaterSmart
@tomoconnor
@tyleryork
@webcowgirl
and special thanks to the invaluable Bill Rosenfield.
This post originally appeared on the American Theatre Wing website.
The Effects of Theatre
December 20th, 2010 § 0 comments § permalink
I shouldn’t be feeling ornery as holiday spirit is in the air, but I just read producer Ken Davenport’s newest blog, on theatrical effects, and it’s gotten me a bit riled. Before citing a list of his top five theatrical effects, Ken quotes Spider-Man bookwriter Glen Berger, and, assuming Ken captured the quote accurately, I’ll repeat it:
What really amazes an audience isn’t a big set piece. It’s how you can theatrically overcome narrative solutions. A simple, elegant solution is where the spectacle lies.
I’m riled because 80% of Ken’s list of theatrical effects and stagecraft strikes me as missing the point of theatre. We go to movies for effects, digital or not; we go to theatre for ingenuity, craft and theatricality, which doesn’t require technology. Spectacle is fine, and awe is great, but let me offer my list of some great theatrical effects:
1. Salieri’s transformation early in Amadeus. In the original production, the play began with an aged Salieri wrapped in blankets, clad in a skullcap and very wizened in years. But as his memory takes him back to the earliest days of his nemesis, Mozart, at court, the actor playing Salieri steps out of the chair and the black, peels back the skullcap, relaxes his face and adopts a young man’s voice – transformed into vitality before our eyes, through nothing but a casting off of rags and, oh yes, acting. (I have seen later productions in which the transformation is more gradual, and the magic is lost.)
2. The death of George and Martha’s son in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? [spoiler alert] As we agonize with George and Martha, Nick and Honey through the long, dark night and into the creeping dawn in Virginia Woolf, we are witness to a murder, the murder of a child terrorized by his banshee mother, disappointed by his milquetoast father. At his father’s hands we live through the boy’s death with his clutching mother, only to realize, if we have not already, that the boy never existed, and was the pawn in another of George and Martha’s marital games. Ultimately, our sorrow is at the realization of the depth of the “parents” dysfunction, yet it is, as per Mr. Albee, an exorcism, and perhaps now this couple has a chance at a healthier life together. This effect is achieved simply through the words of Edward Albee, as great a magician as the theatre has produced.
3. One cast, two plays, two theatres, at once. Alan Ayckbourn’s House and Garden, two interlinked plays in which the actors travel back and forth between the simultaneous action in two theatres, is a puzzle that reveals the fortitude of actors, the depth of a playwright’s imagination and the intricacy of the director’s task. I could easily list other Ayckbourn inspirations – the eight-play, 16-ending Intimate Exchanges, performed by a cast of two; Taking Steps, in which the actions in three apartments are played out simultaneously on the same single set – but that’s only because Ayckbourn is the master of the theatrical effect achieved with (and sometimes because of) great economy. Related examples are Peter Shaffer’s Black Comedy and Michael Frayn’s Noises Off.
4. The transcendence of Vivian Bearing. Loathe as I am to use another death as an example, the ultimate passing of the central character in Margaret Edson’s Witmanages to show the human spirit leaving this world and ascending into some greater unknown. Its tools? An ever-brightening spotlight, and the human body, exposed to all in its frailty, beauty and imperfection. What is the greatest effect, after all, than life?
I did say that I disagreed with 80% of Ken’s choices, because the frying of actual bacon in David Cromer’s Our Town unquestionably has an impact, imparting an olfactory sense-memory in us all, its effect deepened by the original convention of Our Town being played out with its actions mimed and its scenery intuited. But this isn’t an effect, really, it’s a true action happening before our eyes, made special by the Spartan work that precedes it. This is reality, breaking through the artifice of theatre.
I love a helicopter or pyrotechnics as much as the next guy. But give me two men and a chair (as in Caryl Churchill’s riveting A Number) and I am perhaps at my happiest. A script, perhaps a score, actors, perhaps musicians, a director, maybe a choreographer, and the work of the subtlest of designers. That’s theatre – and theatre itself is theatre’s greatest special effect.
This post originally appeared on the American Theatre Wing website.
Curating, Connoisseurs and Consumers
December 20th, 2010 § 0 comments § permalink
Early last week, my attention was drawn to two separate blogs about arts audiences, one extremely current, the other some 10 months old. Our friend the Internet is not always a linear purveyor of information, but I am not a linear consumer either. The recent blog, by Barry Hessenius on the website of the Western States Arts Federation, concerned the issue of whether we should be “cultivating connoisseurship” in our arts audiences. It was provoked by a fascinating monologue by the author Fran Leibowitz, captured by Martin Scorsese for the HBO documentary Public Speaking, which I highly recommend for its subject’s incredible insight and wit. The particular statement discussed the devastating loss of high culture audiences due to the scourge of AIDS, and how the loss of passionate, devoted, educated audiences had an impact on the many organizations they had patronized. The older blog coincidentally turned up on my radar at about the same time, via the invaluable 2 AM Theatre site. In it, Tricia Mead wrote about “curating audiences,” so that shows are received by the public most likely and best equipped to appreciate them. Each piece is provocative and together they’re irresistible in the intellectual challenge they pose to those concerned about and dedicated to theatre audiences. Ironically, however, as much as I appreciated both of them, I actually take a contrary position, not because I fear charges of elitism, but because I am at heart a populist. I really don’t understand why theatre isn’t considered part of popular culture, since it sits alongside Star Trek, runaway train movies, Stieg Larsson novels, The Beatles andEntertainment Weekly in the jumbled warehouse of my worldview. Yet, my copious consumption of popular culture aside, I am, to most, a theatre connoisseur. Though I am not formally trained in theatre, and have no academic underpinning to my enthusiasm or career, I have at this point in my life easily seen several thousand productions and I can recall them, discuss them and debate them with the same passion that sports fans have for their team’s achievements. Much as I wish to be, I am not the average theatergoer, nor will I ever be again. But I am a firm believer that our greatest efforts must be spent on cultivating new audiences, and so Hessenius’ extrapolation from Leibowitz’s comments strikes me as unnecessary. I believe that connoisseurs are self-made, possibly even genetically coded. We can expose audiences to theatre (or any of the arts), but so long as their early exposure is at a minimally proficient level of quality, it is something within them that ignites and makes them (to use the marketing term) “avids,” which then leads them to consume the arts with ever-greater frequency, seeking out more knowledge of the discipline and more like-minded individuals, ultimately arriving at the level of “connoisseur.” I can only use myself as an example, but if exposure and knowledge were sufficient, I would be an opera buff, but as I have confessed before, I am unmoved at that form of musical drama. Also, despite a memory that easily recalls who did the special effects for the flop Broadway Frankenstein in 1981, I am unable to discerns most pieces of classical musical from each other, despite many trips to the symphony. Fundamentally, I believe connoisseurs are either hard-wired or self-made, not created; I also think we have to remember that there is a fine line between the true connoisseur and the aesthetic boor, so we must be careful that we don’t lead people over that line. As for Trisha Mead’s musings on “curating audiences,” I think she has taken the language of connoisseurship and used it to elevate the work that every marketing department, every p.r. department is doing every day; if there’s a target audience for a certain piece, they’d better be going after it, or they’re derelict in their jobs. Her admittedly appealing fantasy of an “audience designer,” notwithstanding, shrewd promoters are forever curating audiences, but that language is what brings me up short, not the actual effort. “Curation,” like “connoisseur” carries a dose of elitism that must forever be guarded against, except on those rare occasions where we are truly toiling in the fields of rarified culture. Our ability to truly curate audience lies in direct proportion to the singularity of our organization’s artistic vision, and the availability of alternative visions in the same market. If your company is in a major city with a variety of established and diverse theatre companies, your artistic director is free to “narrowcast” in their program, just as the marketing team (and the development team, for that matter) then have the latitude to seek a select audience to see and support that work. But if you are one of the very few choices in your market, you cannot afford to be precious or exclusive about the audiences you seek. Both of these theories are fundamentally based in the actual artistic work of the company, and must not be pursued simply for the sake of marketing ingenuity. But the bottom line is that in order to find the true aficionados, in order to draw in the idealized audience for each work presented, you must be working from the largest base possible, and that returns us to my argument for populism. Let’s face it, unless your work is profoundly narrow and specialized, you need to cast a wide net for each and every outing. That’s not to say that when you have work that may be of particular interest to a particular group, you should not pursue it with every tool in your arsenal, but to focus on such a defined constituency to the exclusion of all others is suicide. The connoisseurs are simply one such constituency, and the wide net will not only drag in the next generation of connoisseurs, but in many cases, the next generation of artists as well. We are long past the era of Danny Newman’s call to “Subscribe Now,” the basis of most every arts organization’s long running efforts to find audiences who would commit to a season of programming up front. We have watched arts subscriptions, overall, drop from their levels of the 70s and 80s, and single ticket sales, as a result, are a renewed and redoubled focus in order to fill the seats left vacant by departed subscribers. So the job is to find audiences of every stripe: novice, casual fan, avid and connoisseur. But that simply follows the pattern that every arts organization needs: single ticket buyer, repeat ticket buyer, subscriber, donor, major donor. We must focus on the early steps – the first time attendee and how we get them back a second time – or else we’ll never find those who will be our greatest fans and supporters.
This post originally appeared on the American Theatre Wing website. |
Play or Production (What’s Your Function?)
December 13th, 2010 § 0 comments § permalink
My parents were not theatergoers. That is not to suggest that they didn’t enjoy theatre, but for reasons of time, finances and priorities, I was taken to theatre (at least that I can recall) only twice by my parents. Consequently, it was once I began working in this business that my parents had their most consistent opportunities to see theatre. That is not to say they were omnivores, gorging on complimentary tickets; I had to choose rather carefully for their tastes. I can best sum that taste up by explaining that they saw most every show produced at Goodspeed during my four years working there (and for many years after), while I’m not sure they saw even a half-dozen during my eight years at Hartford Stage. The great plus in this was that I had my own two-person focus group handy whenever I needed them, and they would often prove instantly insightful without any provocation. “This isn’t a review,” commented my father one time, reading a particularly non-committal piece of ostensible criticism in a major Connecticut paper. “It’s a book report. I can tell he saw it, but have no idea what he thought.” That said, my parents were just happy to enjoy a show, and for many, many years, when I would point out some aspect of a production that I didn’t feel was quite right, I would hear their endless refrain, “You’re just too picky.” On one rare occasion, my parents had the opportunity to see a new show in workshop when I was running The O’Neill. When that musical was later produced at Goodspeed at Chester, they asked to see it again. Why did less-than-die-hard theatergoers opt to see the same material a second time? Simple. They had liked it so much in the barn at The O’Neill that they wanted to enjoy it once more, but this time with sets, costumes, props and a proper rehearsal period. When the performance was over at Goodspeed, they carefully waited until no one could overhear, then my mother leaned in and whispered, “Why isn’t it funny anymore? It was so funny at The O’Neill.” They were disappointed and clearly stumped, since in fact the show had undergone little revision, but it was, in fact, just laying there on the Goodspeed stage after soaring at The O’Neill. And that’s when I tried to explain to my parents the difference between a play and a production. I don’t recall what I said, but I think they got at least some of it. I wish I could have that same sort of conversation with everyone who goes to the theatre, because I think it is a concept that is central to the creative work of theatre, but least understood by the audience. Admittedly, understanding how to differentiate between play (and for the sake of simplicity, please know I include musicals as well) and production is difficult for almost anyone when seeing a world premiere. When a text is in progress right up to its opening night, when artists – director, designers, actors – are interacting with the playwright’s words for the first time, it can be very difficult to know exactly how they have impacted upon each other when every element is brand new. It is entirely possible that the director invented a piece of stagecraft that the playwright never envisioned; actors’ personalities and skills may cause their characters to evolve a certain way; their suggestions may inform the writing as well. On premieres, even those of us in the business don’t always know. After all, we may also feel something is amiss in a debut production, but it’s not always possible to tease out what feels wrong, since we have no yardstick with which to measure the relative success of the text (the play) or the production (the direction, the acting choices, the design). This is a shame, because many a new play that receives a less than optimal production can have its future life derailed. I vividly recall the physical production of the originalLa Bête on Broadway in 1991, but when I heard it would be revived, I was blank on the play. After this revival, I now believe I have been able to truly see (and will remember) the play. And not to harp on Matthew Warchus productions, but having found the film of Boeing-Boeing unwatchable, an opinion apparently shared by the press and audiences upon its Broadway premiere in 1965, I can only think that the blame lies with the productions, since the Broadway revival was a riot. Revivals, or simply subsequent productions, are where the distinction between play and production come into greater relief. If we have seen Hamlet in full 17th century regalia, we understand immediately that the play remains Hamlet even when we see it again, but with our hero in a hoodie, or a business suit. We begin to see where a director’s vision has acted upon a text, and if you see multiple Hamlets, it also becomes clearer how each actor’s interpretation changes our impression of this young man. Why is this important to me? Because I think there are too many times where a play can get a bad rap because of its first production – and that as a result, audiences can be scared away from new plays. Inside of a theatre, we are all excited by new plays. The opportunity to be there at the inception of a new work (maybe even get our name in the printed edition), is a heady, thrilling thing. It’s why we got into the business, to experience creation. As a result, we believe that the audience shares our enthusiasm. Au contraire. At Goodspeed, whose work is as audience-friendly as you can get, we were confounded when audience members told us that Goodspeed at Chester, our second stage, was where the “experimental” work was done. Experimental? In progress — yes. Receiving its first production — sure. But experimental? This work was as far from the avant-garde of Richard Foreman and Robert Wilson as I am in looks from Hugh Jackman. So where did that impression come from – and linger – after well over a decade of productions? When I was up at Geva Theater in Rochester, I noticed a peculiar tic on the part of the audience, even of the board. If an unknown work was produced and proved popular, then people remembered its name. If it was generally disliked, it was shrugged off with the pejorative of “that new play,” a vague plot synopsis substituting for a title. New is not a good word for many audiences. It’s a warning sign flashing “Danger – ahead lies the unknown,” and not everyone likes surprises. There’s a corollary to this, which takes me back to the issue of play and production. That’s the frequency with which, when a new work doesn’t fully succeed, a certain phrase recurs in conversation with theatre patrons: “Why on earth did they ever pick this play?” Complete dismissal of the project and the process, incredulity that anyone had found value in it. No artistic director or commercial producer chooses work with the intention of it failing. But sometimes it does, in part or whole. Maybe the play doesn’t truly work, or maybe the production doesn’t develop it and further reveal it. However, no one set out to produce something unsatisfying. Those are the moments when I wish that audiences could better ascertain the distinction between play and production, giving the author, and the producers, the benefit of the doubt and understanding that the artistic process is imprecise. It is not manufacturing, it is creation. So how do we tackle this problem? It cannot simply be explained. I believe we can never put ourselves in the position of explicitly educating our audiences, lest they see theatre as a chore to tolerated – or avoided. The distinction between play and production must be demonstrated, and I suspect artists are better equipped to devise a means to do that than anyone. Once at Hartford Stage, Mark Lamos conducted a master class, in which over the course of 90 minutes, with two actors who had just met, he set about to do a cursory staging of a mere 14 lines from Romeo and Juliet, explaining bits of the text to the actors (and audience) and suggesting some rudimentary blocking. Then with a bit of time left, he took the same actors through the first 24 lines of Act V, scene i of The Merchant of Venice, where Lorenzo and Jessica have just spent the night together. Mark had the actors play up the sexuality of the scene, the post-coital bliss, forcing these strangers into immediate intimacy, which they literally embraced at his direction. And then he asked them to do the scene again, giving them only a single note of direction to alter the approach: “Now do it as if the sex was bad.” And they did so with all of the awkward pauses, avoided glances and disappointment they could muster. The audience gasped, then broke into applause. The infinite variety of play vs. production was laid bare. For those of you reading this who are members of the audience, I hope you will take every opportunity to discern the difference between play and production, as I think it will give you an even greater appreciation for the performances you enjoy, as well as the ones you don’t. Unless you have a script in hand (easy when in England, all too rare in the U.S.), you can’t work apart the intertwined strands. I offer no easy prescription, no declarative key that will unlock these mysteries, only the hope that they can be increasingly understood, especially so that formative work with be taken in its true context, not viewed as a final, immutable product, and supported even when it comes up short in your eyes.
This post originally appeared on the American Theatre Wing website. |
Do We Respect Them In The Morning?
December 6th, 2010 § 0 comments § permalink
Had I seen any one of the following items over the past week or so, I probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But, as I say, each of the following has caught my attention over the last 10 days:
I don’t provide this litany in order to embarrass or criticize any single person or institution. Frankly, I think these are a) just the tip of the iceberg and b) entirely typical of the kind of conversations and interactions that go on within producing offices and non-profit institutions all the time. I do not hold myself blameless, though I think after more than seven years in which I am more a member of the audience than I am a theatre staffer, I have moved beyond the mindset exemplified by my first paying theatre job. That was in a box office in which we were extremely polite to the patrons on the phone (in those pre-Internet days), but thought nothing of putting a call on hold to finish a hand of gin rummy (a card game, just in case I have used an archaic reference). But that was the first of many box offices I know of where, just out of sight of patrons, a pinned up list of mangled play titles was studiously maintained for the hilarity of the b.o. staff, and would on occasion be shared more broadly within the theatre’s administration. But taken together, the minor incidents above indicate an inherent disregard for the audience. Even when it remains largely out of sight and earshot, an insider’s game for those in the know, I have grown concerned about the “us and them” quality of these ostensibly funny moments which occur, no question, all too often if you work inside a theatre. Something people rarely stop to consider is how little human interaction a patron can have when attending the theatre, especially now that ticket buying has become predominantly an Internet based activity. Think about it: you can buy tickets, or even a subscription, via computer; enter a theatre where your ticket (or to my dismay, your 8.5 x 11 printout from your home computer) is scanned by someone whose conversation is usually limited to “please have your tickets out and ready for scanning”; a brief exchange with an usher, who is either an employee eager to keep traffic moving or a volunteer who is handing out programs in exchange for seeing the show for free; and perhaps a bartender at intermission when speed, not cordiality, is most prized. So let me say first how vitally important it is that the front of house people feel a part of the theatre, and understand that they are – aside from the performance of the play, which is of course at a bit of a distance – the primary personal interaction the audience has while at the theatre. They are, quite literally, on the front lines of how patrons experience a show, and just as surely as a surly waiter can effect one’s perception of a finely cooked restaurant meal, a condescending usher can immediately color a patron’s perception of a play. Even calm, swift professionalism can have a distancing effect. But I am not writing to indict those on the front lines, who probably encounter a wider range of human interaction than you might think possible. Rather, I am writing to address the sentiments that take place higher up the org chart, in which the foibles of and frustrations caused by the audience become part of the lingua franca of theatre operation. It is that attitude which either trickles down to those we charge with serving our audiences, or which can fail to arrest such behavior when it occurs. In an era where there is constant talk about declining audiences, rising prices and the need to attract “the next generation of theatre patrons,” I think it undermines those efforts when the staff (or our critics) take the opportunities to make sport of the people WHO ARE ACTUALLY GOING TO THE THEATRE. Sorry for shouting, but considering how hard we must all work to inspire audiences to visit for the first time, let alone return again and again we cannot afford to foster any activity which diminishes respect for the theatre patron. And even if the sheet in the box office is never seen by the audience, it is dangerous to have such a document maintained and shared, be it by samizdat or intranet, because the next time a patron flubs a show’s title, the sales representative may quickly focus on retaining the malapropism, rather than taking care of the needs of someone who has bought, or wishes to buy, a ticket to that show, whatever the heck it’s called. Let’s face it, if we work in theatre, our knowledge of the form, of the literature, of the practice of theatre is almost immediately head and shoulders above that of many patrons, even if one is a novice in their first professional job. Our audiences haven’t made theatre their life’s work, and in many cases it’s not even a deep passion, but merely part of a menu of entertainment options. They aren’t necessarily going to know how to pronounce Marivaux, distinguish Ivanov from Platonov, remember which Rapp brother writes plays or which one was in Rent, or appreciate that the tradition of placing classics in alternate time periods is hardly new (even Shakespeare refers to a clock in Julius Caesar, set in an era when no such device existed, but that’s actually irrelevant). They’re in our theatres because they want to be; they’re calling us because they’re curious; they’re discussing drama in our lobby not because they’re experts, but because they’re engaged; they’re sending tweets, e-mails and even letters because they care and have something they need to say – and need to have heard. Every human being can be the source of good natured fun, but when it becomes pervasive, judgmental or sport for those who make their livings off of the enthusiasm of audiences, a line has been crossed, and we have institutionalized elitism in a way that will prove damaging, no matter how innocent any single comment, tweet or blog may seem. Let me close with a story. For many years, I would visit the Glimmerglass Opera each summer, to see the work of a friend who was a regular director there. I went solely out of friendship, because I am not a fan of opera; it does not speak to me personally, and certainly I don’t have the emotional connection that the aficionados feel deeply. Simply put, when I am at the opera, I feel dumb, left out, and ill-at-ease. Nonetheless, I would go out of duty and dedication (which are not, admittedly, the motivators one hopes for from their audience) to my friend. I counted on the story (which I did not know in most cases) and the staging (which is of course the most “theatrical,” and therefore familiar), to carry me through. Each summer, a small informal dinner party/picnic was thrown by one of the opera’s patrons for my friend, and he would assemble the guest list, mostly the other directors and designers, and his friends who had made the trek for opening night. One evening, some 90 minutes before Tosca was to begin, the small group began reminiscing about other Tosca‘s they’d seen or worked on. I, the novice, could do nothing but listen, as I had never seen or heard the opera. The conversation began to focus on the climactic moment of Tosca and (spoiler alert!) the group began recounting the many hilarious incidents they remembered of less than effective Tosca death scenes. After much laughter, a calm descended, and I was compelled to ask the group, “Excuse me, but did any of you consider that some of us may have never seen Tosca, and that you just destroyed the ending for me?” The speed with which they virtually shouted “No” at me and fell about laughing at my ignorance was stunning. To them, Tosca’s death was a given, known to all, and I should have known it already. So there I was, in my annual outing, hoping once again that I might enjoy a stage work outside my knowledge base, and I became a source of humor when I spoke honestly about it. If you want people to share your love of theatre, whether you’re a professional or an avid fan, just remember that as much fun as it is to talk to those already in the tent, our peers, our real need must be on inviting more people in, on their terms, not ours, and always with respect and signs of welcome.
This post originally appeared on the American Theatre Wing website. |
13 Docs That Theatre Lovers Should Know
November 29th, 2010 § 0 comments § permalink
After yesterday’s lengthy survey of fictional films about theatre, I would be remiss in not sharing with you a baker’s dozen documentaries about theatre, most of which are probably even more obscure than some of their fictional counterparts. Unlike the films cited yesterday, which stretch over an almost 80 year period of filmmaking, the oldest of those listed below dates back just 40 years, and the majority are much more recent than that. This likely stems from two key factors: a) the rise of documentary, cinema veritefilmmaking began to proliferate only in the 1960s, and even more recently, b) the advent of high quality digital video cameras, which significantly reduced the expense of shooting documentaries.
Outside of valuable archives like the New York Public Library’s Theatre on Film and Tape Collection at Lincoln Center, the net result of making theatre, namely the show itself, is all too fleeting, even for those that manage sustained runs. But at least there is a slowly growing sub-genre of documentary which tries to capture the reality of how theatre is made, shorn of its romantic, fictional interpretations.
AFTER THE STORM (2009) James Lecesne and friends from the New York theatre community travel to post-Katrina New Orleans to stage a youth theatre production of Ahrens and Flaherty’s Once on This Island. Though there are occasional gaps in the story-telling, there’s no denying the emotional pull of watching an eclectic group of kids, in dire circumstances, pulling together under the guidance of theatre pros to stage a show amid literal chaos and debris.
AUTISM: THE MUSICAL (2007) In yesterday’s roster, I mentioned “theatre as therapy” in connection with the film Weeds, which focused on a prison rehabilitation program. This unfortunately named film, which sounds more like a Parker & Stone project than the earnest documentary that it is, profiles five children who suffer with the increasingly prevalent syndrome as they take part in a Los Angeles program that creates original musicals for those so-affected. Whether therapy or theatre takes precedence here may depend upon your perspective, but like some many documentaries, it’s impossible to address the filmmaking on its own when the merits of the subject are so clear.
BROADWAY: THE GOLDEN AGE (2003) Rick McKay’s look at Broadway history that focuses largely, but not exclusively, on the period from the mid-40s to the late 60s, has at times been criticized for its litany of talking heads, despite some enticing archival footage woven in. But let’s face it, when the people speaking include Bea Arthur, Carol Burnett, Barbara Cook, Hume Cronyn, Jerry Herman, Shirley MacLaine, Patricia Neal, and Stephen Sondheim – to name, I kid you not, only a few out of a cavalcade – it’s time to shut up and just let the heads talk.
COMPANY: ORIGINAL CAST ALBUM (1970) Though there’s debate over what comes before the colon and what comes after when listing this seminal theatrical documentary, there’s no denying that it’s pretty much mandatory viewing for anyone with an interest in musical theatre. What began as a simple look at how a Broadway cast recording is made, taking advantage of the fact that it’s all done in one day, this brief film became a legend due to Elaine Stritch’s epic struggle to record “The Ladies Who Lunch.” What might have been prosaic turns terrifying as the recording session wears on past midnight. It never sets foot inside a theatre, bus this is theatrical truth, and drama, of the first order, and you’ll never hear the cast album the same way again.
EVERY LITTLE STEP (2008) An authorized look at pre-production for the 2006 Broadway revival of the groundbreaking musical A Chorus Line, this film benefits from access to archival material from the original production by virtue of its executive producer, attorney John Breglio, who also oversees the Michael Bennett estate and produced the revival. Like the musical itself, we once again are drawn into the audition process that pulls together a theatrical company, even though in this case they will ultimately be reenacting other people’s stories. This movie is what reality television might be if anyone bothered to look up the definition of reality.
THE LITTLE RED TRUCK (2008) Unknown to me before a Twitter contribution, the film records five stops along the route of the eponymous vehicle owned by the Missoula Children’s Theatre. In each town, the troupe casts local children every Monday and by Saturday has some 60 of them onstage performing in a classic kids’ tale. This is a weekly challenge, and apparently an annual achievement (for 40 years), that would have to be seen to be believed. When I find this film, I’ll have that chance.
LOOKING FOR RICHARD (1996) The Twitterati were split on this one, some loving and some loathing it. Preserving Al Pacino’s ongoing exploration of Shakespeare’sRichard III, it combines scheduled interviews with studio rehearsal scenes featuring the likes of Kevin Spacey and Alec Baldwin. Depending upon your tastes, it’s either meandering and self-indulgent, or it’s a warts-and-all look at one actor’s efforts to get to the dark heart of a great character.
MOON OVER BROADWAY (1997) Nowadays Broadway productions have their own video units filming the production process, laying the groundwork for the hoped-for PBS hagiography if they triumph. But in the bygone days of the mid-90s, such backstage looks were rare, especially one piloted by two of the finest documentarians working, Chris Hegedus and legendary D.A. Pennebaker (who had apparently been scared away from theatre for a quarter century after making the film of the Company recording session). While Actors Equity rules of the day prevented much footage ofMoon Over Buffalo, the play being produced, from making it onscreen, rehearsal footage and backstage conversations paint a fly-on-the-wall portrait of Carol Burnett’s return to Broadway after 30 years away, including her impromptu session with the audience one night during previews when tech issues stopped the show.
SHOWBUSINESS: THE ROAD TO BROADWAY (2007) Dori Berinstein‘s insider view of the 2003-2004 season on Broadway, focusing largely on the musicals Taboo, Caroline, or Change, Wicked and Avenue Q on their path (or not) to the Tony Awards, grows more fascinating with each passing year, as we gain perspective on the productions and the circumstances surrounding them. With unprecedented access, Berinstein shot more than 120 hours of footage, then whittled it down to a cohesive narrative that revealed itself as the season went on. Like William Goldman’s book The Season, this is destined to be required material for theatre students and historians for years to come, and I say that even though my footage ended up on the cutting room floor (not kidding).
SING FASTER: THE STAGEHANDS’ RING CYCLE (1999) Although set in the opera world, not theatre, I’m letting it in because I’ve never heard of any other documentary, or fiction film for that matter, that looks at stage production from the point of view of the crew, in this case the union team at the San Francisco Opera as they wrangle a complete production of Wagner’s daunting cycle. Winner of a “Filmmaker’s Trophy” at Sundance, its 60 minute running time suggests it was always targeting a TV berth.
STAGEDOOR (2006) Perhaps it should have been called Camp: The True Story to goose its box office prospects, but coming three years after the cult favorite Camp, which fictionalized life at the summer mecca for youthful theatre buffs, this cinema verite visit to the real Stagedoor Manor failed to generate equivalent interest. Perhaps the famous line from The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, slightly repurposed, is true: when the legend become fact, film the legend – like Campdid.
THESPIANS (2010) A charming, low-key account of very different high school theatre troupes as they prepare to compete in the Educational Theatre Association’s annual national festival in Lincoln, Nebraska. Never released theatrically, it has found a home and following on DVD and cable, and showcases a level of high school theatrical activity that may be all but unknown to those whose schools aren’t participants in International Thespian Society chapters.
THIS SO-CALLED DISASTER (2003) A chronicle of the world premiere of the Sam Shepard play The Late Henry Moss, which debuted on the West Coast with a staggering cast including Sean Penn and Woody Harrelson among many others, including the recently deceased Shepard stalwart James Gammon. This film parts the iron curtain that has largely surrounded the press-shy playwright-director Shepard, whose own film fame came almost entirely as a result of acting in projects by other writers and directors.
Special Bonus Mention: BROADWAY: THE AMERICAN MUSICAL Produced for PBS, Michael Kantor and Lawrence Maslon’s six-part history of the Broadway musical is an expert primer for those just learning about the history of what is said to be one of America’s only two indigenous art forms (the other being jazz). There’s a DVD set of the complete series as well as a lavish, coffee table companion book, and while one can quibble with the occasional omission (and every musical theatre lover is bound to do so; it’s their nature), there’s no denying that this is probably the single most comprehensive filmic look at Broadway from The Black Crook to the present day.
Once again, I don’t pretend that this is in any way a definitive list; I was assisted by an assortment of Twitter friends who were all cited at the end of yesterday’s blog, and they have proven their devotion to theatre by having knowledge that goes beyond the walls of live theatre by exploring movie theatres (undoubtedly art houses and revival houses, not just mainstream multiplexes), as well as what’s available on Netflix, DVD and, once upon a time, VHS and Beta. I thank them for helping me on what proved to be a project much more time-consuming than any blog should be.
This post originally appeared on the American Theatre Wing website.
37 Flicks That Theatre Lovers Should Know
November 29th, 2010 § 0 comments § permalink
Last week, the good folks at Theatermania.com posted a story entitled “15 Flicks for Theater Lovers,” which quickly caught my eye. I must confess to disappointment when I read the story, only because that title led me to believe it would be a recounting of great movies about the theatre. Instead, it was about upcoming films starring or featuring stage stalwarts, an admirable and useful piece.
However, in an effort to correct a very minor “wrong” that only I perceived, I began to muse on great (and not-so-great) movies about theatre – and thus this blog was born, one featuring movies about theatre. I used the power of Twitter to supplement my own knowledge (“crowdsourcing,” for the digitally with-it), and I think it will be obvious as you read when I have first-hand knowledge, and therefore opinions, of a film; in some cases, these titles were dimly recalled, or entirely new to me. Though I am not noted for my brevity, so many films cropped up that I have divided the list into two parts; today I tackle the fiction films (even if based on fact), and tomorrow I’ll follow up with documentaries you should also know about.
Before you start arguing with the list, please understand that while there are films about performance, cabaret, vaudeville, burlesque, ballet and more, I pretty much stuck with those closest to theatre, be it amateur or professional, so please don’t get upset when you hit “the C’s” and don’t find, say, Cabaret or Chicago. But also don’t expect utter consistency; hey, it’s my blog entry. You are also invited, indeed urged, to supplement this list using the comments section at the end of the blog, making my enumeration even more useful to others. In fact, I’ve intentionally left out some films just so you can join in.
So what follows is an inevitably incomplete, selective, arbitrary, alphabetical rundown of films about the theatre, as both wish list and warning at a time of year when so many are wondering what to get the theatre-lover on your gift roster, even if that theatre-lover is you.
ALL ABOUT EVE (1950) One of the two most positively mentioned films by my Twitter contributors, this backstage drama is essential viewing for anyone who really wants to feel like a theatre insider. This now seminal tale of a scheming understudy worming her way into the life of an insecure, older Broadway star is the progenitor of countless parodies and homages. Remarkably, 60 years later, only the details around the edges seem dated: the out of town tryout at New Haven’s Shubert; a character named Lloyd Richards, when a true-life Lloyd Richards became famed for directing A Raisin in the Sun and later leading the Yale School of Drama and Yale Rep; a fictional New York theatre trophy called the Sarah Siddons Award (now a Chicago-based award established years later). Basis for the stage musical Applause.
ALL THAT JAZZ (1979) Probably one of the rare times that an artist did a roman a clefof his own life, Bob Fosse’s warts-and-all portrait of his multi-faceted career includes the pseudonymous Joe Gideon directing a Broadway musical called NY/LA. The first hour of the film is breathtaking, but I feel it jumps the shark when Gideon starts experiencing musical-comedy death fantasies and chatting with Jessica Lange as Angelique (read Angel of Death). Surely the only film to juxtapose brilliant musical numbers with actual footage of open heart surgery.
THE BAND WAGON (1953) What Singin’ in the Rain was to Hollywood, this film, released a year later, is to Broadway. There are common bonds between them beyond just that surface connection, most notably in the screenplays, both by Comden and Green, and the presence of Cyd Charisse. Wagon follows a new musical as it travels on the road to Broadway, transforming into a version of Faust due to the aspirations of an overbearing director, before those artistic ambitions are jettisoned in favor of a simpler musical revue. Critics and fans will endlessly debate the assets of these two films (Kelly vs. Astaire, Donen vs. Minnelli), but for those focused on theatre as a subject, this is the obvious choice.
THE BARKLEYS OF BROADWAY (1949) The 10th and final collaboration, after a 10-year hiatus, of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers is the story of a successful husband and wife musical comedy duo whose relationship is strained when Ginger wants to pursue a career as a dramatic actress, to Fred’s profound dismay. With a screenplay by Comdenand Green, the somewhat elegiac story reportedly owes a lot to the true-life dynamic between its stars.
BULLETS OVER BROADWAY (1994) Don’t speak. Just watch. A gem from Woody Allen, with period color and genuine warmth and humor, in which a dramaturgically-inclined gangster takes over a theatrical production. Long promised as a stage musical, but yet to surface.
CAMP (2003) I never attended a performing arts camp and I might have been eaten alive at the one portrayed in this low-budget charmer, based on writer-director Todd Graff’s own experiences at New York’s Stagedoor Manor years earlier. Preceding Glee by several years, and peopled by such stars-to-be as Anna Kendrick and Robin de Jesus, Campportrays backstage and on stage life at a summer camp where Broadway tunes are a rallying cry and every camper is ready to fall to the ground and prostrate themselves when a certain Mr. Sondheim comes by for a visit.
A CHORUS LINE (1985) After taking almost a decade to make it to the screen, the film of the stage musical smash is — don’t forget — a story of theatre: of a group of auditioners telling their personal stories in hopes of being cast in an unidentified musical production (truly the MacGuffin of musical theatre history). Save for starring Michael Douglas as Zach, the film features a cast made up largely of legit stage gypsies, but Sir Richard Attenborough had no inventive take on the material that would make it come off the screen the way it came over the footlights.
A CHORUS OF DISAPPROVAL (1998) First you have to accept the fact that a community theatre company might be peopled by such rank amateurs as Anthony Hopkins, Prunella Scales and Jeremy Irons, attempting to mount a production of The Beggar’s Opera. Then you have to accept a merging of the singular stage sensibilities of Sir Alan Ayckbourn, which have rarely transferred well to the screen, with those of director and screenwriter Michael Winner, auteur of such films as Death Wish (numbers 1 through 3), The Mechanic and Won Ton Ton: The Dog Who Saved Hollywood. I have it on good authority that Sir A is not a fan.
CRADLE WILL ROCK (1999) Tim Robbins wrote and directed this recounting of the circumstances that led up to the nearly aborted, ultimately triumphant production of Marc Blitzstein’s pro-labor agitprop drama/musical. An excellent rendering of a moment when politics and theatre clashed in a very public way, it also boasts a striking, diverse roster of American and British stage and screen talent, including John and Joan Cusack, Philip Baker Hall, Ruben Blades, Cherry Jones, Hank Azaria, John Turturro, Paul Giamatti, Vanessa Redgrave…and Bill Murray!
DE-LOVELY (2004)/NIGHT AND DAY (1946) The life of Cole Porter has been filmed, and fouled up, two times, despite almost 60 years between the attempts. The ’46 film, with Cary Grant as Porter, is largely fictional, based more on propaganda about the composer than his actual life. The more recent film, with Kevin Kline as our hero, doesn’t whitewash the fact that Porter was gay, but was all-too-apparently made in England (for an American story) and employs a mood-killing framing device not dissimilar to the one used by All That Jazz, with Jonathan Pryce as the Angel Gabriel (as in “Blow, Gabriel, Blow”) come to take Porter to the Great Beyond. Maybe they’ll get this right with a third film in about 2064. The soundtrack, however, which includes Diana Krall and Elvis Costello, is worth a listen.
THE DRESSER (1983) With a screenplay by Ronald Harwood, who had also written the play of the same name, The Dresser is Harwood’s fictionalized version of his early job working as a dresser for one of the last of the great English actor-managers, Sir Donald Wolfit. Tom Courtenay repeated his Broadway and West End performance in the title role while Albert Finney was aged significantly to portray “Sir,” the fading monarch of both the stage and backstage. The relationship of the two men is at the center of the story, as the subordinate works to prop up his failing employer, and while the stage lent sustained focus to the two men, the film expertly fleshes out the details of a stage era that drew to a close in the first half of the 20th century.
THE FAN (1981) A must for anyone who loves Broadway AND slasher films! This rather dreary affair features Lauren Bacall being stalked by a crazed devotee. Don’t be fooled by the presence of folks like James Garner and Maureen Stapleton in the cast, or James Cameron favorite Michael Biehn, this is one you can miss.
42ND STREET (1933) One of the great early screen musicals would later become a successful Broadway spectacle, but the original film mixes surprising grit with its song and dance. Yes, its “up from the chorus” story would fuel many movie, play and actor’s dreams for decades to come, but what strikes home about 42nd Street is the desperation of producer Julian Marsh to mount one more hit show at any price. A not always pretty look at Broadway of the era, now overshadowed by the glamour of the stage version.
FUNNY LADY (1975) The much-maligned sequel to Funny Girl remains focused onZiegfeld Follies star Fanny Brice, but it’s her primary beau in this film that warrants its inclusion on this list over its more obvious predecessor. James Caan plays the largely forgotten showman and entrepreneur Billy Rose, who among his many endeavors produced Jumbo and Carmen Jones; wrote songs with Fats Waller, Harold Arlen & Yip Harburg; and owned legit houses including the Ziegfeld and the Billy Rose (the latter now known as the Nederlander).
THE GOLDEN COACH (1952)/FRENCH CANCAN (1954)/ELENA AND HER MEN(1956) I’m embarrassed to learn of this late-career trilogy by master French filmmaker Jean Renoir only now, but surely there’s a box set that will set this right. Though much lesser known than Rules of the Game and Grand Illusion, his masterpieces, these Renoir films (often renamed for the U.S. market) have their fans, especially for the first film, which is the most explicitly about theatre, namely commedia dell’arte. The second film portrays the opening of the famed Moulin Rouge, while the third, though largely a bedroom farce, circles back to the first film to blur the line between life and art. Each film is built around its star, Anna Magnani, Jean Gabin and Ingrid Bergman, respectively.
HAMLET 2 (2008) Steve Coogan plays a failure of a high school drama club coach who stakes his job on his original musical, the one which gives the film its title. Funnier in concept than execution, though surely subject to one’s taste, it does offer one spectacularly awful musical number, “Rock Me, Sexy Jesus,” though I can’t even remember how it figures in the plot, although obviously Hamlet has been resurrected. When this was on location adjacent to the American Theatre Wing’s offices, I thought the signs posted for filming were a joke, using a patently false pseudonym to cover up a more glamorous shoot. I guess the joke was on me.
ILLUMINATA (1998) John Turturro’s labor of love (he stars, co-wrote and directed) is the story of life in a turn of the century New York repertory company, when both life and theatre were not so far removed from European tradition. The central story is of a romance between playwright Turturro and the company’s leading lady (played by Mrs. Turturro, Katherine Borowitz), with plenty of room for contributions from Susan Sarandon, Bill Irwin, Donal McCann and the inimitable (yet easily imitated) Christopher Walken. Critical response to the film was widely mixed.
THE IMPOSTORS (1998) A slapstick farce that harks back to at least the Marx Brothers and even to the silent film era, this largely shipboard comedy stars Oliver Platt and Stanley Tucci (the latter also wrote and directed) as two out of work actors who incur the wrath of a third, more successful thespian (Alfred Molina) and become sufficiently concerned for their physical well-being that they flee to escape bodily injury. With nothing on its mind but entertainment, the film sometimes confuses slapstick with slapdash, but it also makes room for a cast of theatre stalwarts including Campbell Scott, Hope Davis, Dana Ivey and Tony Shalhoub.
THE LIBERTINE (2004) One would think that Johnny Depp tearing a path through London’s 17th century theatres and brothels would have made this into a box office success, but this adaptation of Stephen Jeffreys’ play about true-life John Wilmot, the second Earl of Rochester and a playwright noted for his obscene works, is a minor, forgotten part of the Depp oeuvre. There’s a Pygmalion storyline when Wilmot is taken with actress Emily Barry and seeks to adapt her skills to his own particular form of stagecraft, but this runs closer to Quills than My Fair Lady.
ME AND ORSON WELLES (2008) Look past the casting of Zac Efron and what you’ll find is a surprising insightful look at the Mercury Theatre’s production of Julius Caesar, directed by and starring Orson Welles. While the film takes some factual liberties (Welles was only 22 when he mounted Caesar on Broadway, virtually the same age as his on-screen, fictional protégée), it nonetheless captures the risks, relationships and realities of theatrical production in a bygone Broadway. This would make for an interesting double-feature with Cradle Will Rock, since several of the same true life figures (Welles, John Houseman) are portrayed in both films and take place only a few years apart.
A MIDWINTER’S TALE aka IN THE DEEP MIDWINTER (1995) While I try never to miss a Kenneth Branagh-Joan Collins film, this one completely escaped my notice (small wonder; per the IMDB, it grossed only $346,000 in its U.S. release). To be more accurate, Branagh wrote and directed this obscurity, and the cast features, along with Miss Collins, such excellent English actors as Jennifer Saunders, Richard Briers and Michael Maloney. The story is about a man who tries to save a church by putting on a Christmas production of Hamlet, per the synopsis I found, even if such a thing strikes me as an oxymoron. Clearly one to seek out, if for no other reason than to stump your theatre pals in trivia contests.
NOISES OFF (1992) Though some tweeters disagree, I don’t think Peter Bogdanovich managed to find a filmic equivalent for the onstage shenanigans that make Michael Frayn‘s play such an extraordinary achievement of theatrical zaniness, as a D-level acting troupe stages an F-level sex farce (think bad Ray Cooney). Like a number of films on this list, it was barely released, and I’ve tried to block it out, but I recall some really ugly cinematography and wide shots meant to capture the entirety of the door-slamming precision of the play, which instead merely distanced viewers from the comedy.
OPENING NIGHT (1977) Best remembered now for playing Mia Farrow’s husband inRosemary’s Baby, or perhaps as one of the villains in Brian DePalma’s The Fury, John Cassavetes used his Hollywood recognition, and earnings, to forge a secondary career as one of the most prolific and distinctive independent filmmakers long before such a thing was chic. Starring his regular leading lady Gena Rowlands, the film follows an alcoholic actress as her self-destructive ways wreak havoc on a play in the final days its out-of-town tryout. On my list to be seen.
THE PRODUCERS (1968)/THE PRODUCERS (2005) A movie that became a play that became a movie, The Producers surely had one of the strangest trajectories of any story on stage and film. The first film, winner of an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay, opened to very mixed reception given its then mildly scandalous use of Hitler as a source of humor (but in the era of Hogan’s Heroes). Over the years, the story of an unscrupulous producer and shy accountant who determine they can make more money with a flop than with a hit, became a cult favorite, oft quoted among those in the know. When original author-director Mel Brooks brought it to Broadway as a musical, the story entered the mainstream, and the cult fave became a mass appeal smash, leading to a slavishly faithful refilming which was D.O.A. at the box office. The latter nonetheless shows how material can be transformed, but the sweaty lunacy of the former, thanks to actors Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder, remains the gold standard.
SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE (1998) Conveniently falling alphabetically just before a film portraying roughly the same era, this honored comedy is one of those rare films that made theatre, and Shakespeare no less, palatable to a general audience. With Joseph Fiennes as the young bard and Gwyneth Paltrow as his inspiration, the film parallels Shakespeare’s own cross–dressing plot devices with Paltrow’s on-screen stage appearances at a time when women were forbidden to trod the boards. With a supporting cast including Geoffrey Rush, Antony Sher and the commanding Judi Dench, plus screenplay work by Tom Stoppard, this is a thoroughly enjoyable romantic comedy with historic trappings that play fast and loose with the truth, but who really cares?
STAGE BEAUTY (2004) Jeffrey Hatcher adapted his own play (Compleat Female Stage Beauty, seen regionally but never in New York), like Shakespeare in Love also set in England when only men could act, and portrays what happens to the era’s foremost “actress,” Ned Kynaston, when that gender ban is lifted. Unafraid to show the underbelly of the acting profession in the 1600s, the Richard Eyre-directed film conveys the dissolute nature of both aristocrats and artists, while mixing Claire Danes and Billy Crudup with British pros like Richard Griffiths, Edward Fox, and Rupert Everett. Expertly acted, but it intentionally curdles what was a romp in Shakespeare in Love.
STAYIN’ ALIVE (1983) Take it from one who has actually sat through it twice, no matter how curious you may be to see John Travolta reprising his Saturday Night Fevercharacter Tony Manero in this Rocky-in-a-dance-belt journey to Broadway co-written and directed by none other than Sylvester Stallone, it’s just not worth it. Witless, clichéd and made by people who seem to only know about Broadway from other bad movies about Broadway, this is part of what sent both the star and the director’s careers into free fall. So awful, it’s not even funny.
SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS (1957) The purists among you will argue that this film doesn’t belong on this list, but this profoundly unsettling tale of a powerful columnist and an immoral publicist defines the 1950s Broadway milieu even though it plays out mostly in nightclubs, rather than theatres. There’s not an ounce of sunniness in this bleak noir, which includes a screenplay credit for groundbreaking 30s playwright Clifford Odets, but it’s a scathing portrayal of bygone days, with an endlessly quotable screenplay. Required viewing for press agents, even today.
SUMMER STOCK (1950) Judy Garland has a barn and cows that need milking. Gene Kelly has a theatre troupe but no stage. Obviously you can work the rest out for yourself, but with actors like Eddie Bracken, Gloria DeHaven and Phil Silvers in the film, wouldn’t it just be better off to watch?
THOSE LIPS, THOSE EYES (1980) Little seen on its original release or ever since, this summer stock coming of age story features Frank Langella as (what else) a Master Thespian and post-Animal House actor, pre-American Idiot producer Tom Hulce as his eventual protégé. The supporting cast ranges from Jerry Stiller to noted acting teacher Herbert Berghof, and sadly I’ve never managed to see this film – or ever meet anyone who has.
TOPSY TURVY (1999) Acclaimed for his slice-of-life, partly improvised domestic dramas, filmmaker Mike Leigh took a wholly unexpected turn with this lavish and lengthy look at the creative partnership of Gilbert And Sullivan, played by Jim Broadbent and Allan Corduner respectively. You can argue whether G&S falls in the category of opera or musical theatre, but there’s no debate about the expansive approach taken by Leigh in exploring the lives of these two men, whose names are well-known to most anyone interested in theatre, but are all but unknown when it comes to their personal story. It won Oscars for costume design and make-up and was nominated for its art direction and screenplay; though acclaimed upon release, I felt its epic 160 minute running time worked against a relatively intimate story, but it’s absolutely worth a look.
WAITING FOR GUFFMAN (1996) This send-up and love-letter to community theatre is, along withAll About Eve, the other film most cited by my Tweeps. As “New York Director” Corky St. Clair tries to stage a small-town historical pageant, all of the participants invest their dreams in the promised appearance of one Mr. Guffman, who they believe will take their home-grown musical straight to Broadway. You must see this or you’re going to miss a lot of in-jokes at opening night parties, closing night parties and just about any festivity where theatre folk gather.
WEEDS (1987) I could glibly say that this is the one film to see if you like “let’s put on a show” dramas and prison movies, but that would do this provocative film an injustice. We often read about redemptive theatre programs in prison (check any bio on Charles S. Dutton), but this is perhaps the only dramatic film to portray the work of such a group and its effect on one convict. Loosely based on the true story of prisoner Rick Cluchey, who after his release would go one to tour an original work, The Cage, and become an acclaimed interpreter of the work of Samuel Beckett, this Nick Nolte film works hard to avoid sanitizing either the process of theatrical creation or life inside San Quentin.
Special Bonus Mention: SLINGS & ARROWS This three season Canadian TV series isn’t a film, but I include it because of my own personal adoration of all 18 episodes, which is matched by seemingly anyone I know who has actually seen it. Aired in the U.S. unceremoniously on the Sundance Channel, this portrayal of life at a fictional Shakespeare company (generally known to be modeled on the famed Stratford Festival) is at once a brilliant satire of and deeply-felt homage to the theatre. With a who’s who of Canadian stage talent, including the final acting appearance of the legendary William Hutt, this is must see TV of the very best kind for theatre-lovers, which holds a special place in my heart like nothing I’ve ever seen on TV.
Thanks to everyone on Twitter who contributed to this list:
AdventureSarahB,
Avb,
Agidgetwidget,
Bubbles2828,
CarlyMMC,
Clintster,
CulpeperWalker,
Dloehr,
Esstea14,
FeignedMischief,
GratuitousV,
Halcyontony,
Humphriesmark,
Jamienyc42,
Levine_SM,
MarekKrawczyk,
Mattcosper,
MaxEPunk,
Mreida,
Netheatregeek,
Petricat666,
_PlainKate_,
RachelCMann,
Reduced,
Sailordoghandel,
Sbishopstone,
SMLois,
Spaltor,
Stagemaven,
TheCastParty,
TheNineChicago,
TheNYGalavant
This post originally appeared on the American Theatre Wing website.
Is Broadway America’s National Theatre?
November 22nd, 2010 § 0 comments § permalink
“Mr. Roth,” the tweet went, “What kind of system is needed to feed the truly great theatre all over America to Broadway?” Until I saw that, I had no intention of writing a semi-sequel to my blog post of last week, “This Blog is Prior to Broadway.” But despite the fact that I am not Jordan Roth of Jujamcyn Theatres, for whom the original tweet was intended, I feel compelled to put in my two cents on this topic, since I began working in American not-for-profit theatres in 1983, during my junior year of college, and have spent the past seven years in the Broadway environs as head of the American Theatre Wing. There’s no question that despite all rational arguments, resident theatres dream of getting a show to Broadway and having it become a big hit. The dream was instilled in the hearts of many when Arena’s Stage’s production of The Great White Hope was, by general assent, the first show to make the journey from a regional production to a Broadway landmark. It is a trip that has been made many times, both successfully and unsuccessfully. In my own experience, I have had the opportunity to see three plays on which I worked and dearly loved (and several others less adored) make the journey to New York (one to Off-Broadway) with varying degrees of success: Our Country’s Good (critical success but commercial failure), Marvin’s Room (critical hit, and I don’t actually know how it did commercially), and Stand-Up Tragedy (critically lambasted and a fast flop). Since last week I elucidated the reasons why I worry about theatres that dream of and promote shows as prior to Broadway, let me more directly address the idea of regular berths on Broadway (or even in New York) for regional productions. 1. It’s been tried before. Not that prior failure negates future success, but I can think of two efforts that were particularly friendly to shows from resident companies, and neither lasted. In 1985, the Joyce Theatre Foundation hosted a summer series, the American Theatre Exchange Festival, of regional shows, each with a four-week run: Season’s Greetingsfrom The Alley, Faulkner’s Bicycle from Yale Rep, and In The Belly of the Beast from the Mark Taper Forum. Interestingly, when I mentioned this festival recently to Cora Cahan, who ran the Joyce at the time, her response was one of surprise; I believe she said she’d forgotten about it. But she elucidated on some reasons why it didn’t work, which I’ll fold into my thoughts herein. (You can hear her on this edition of Downstage Center. ) In the early 90s, there was a plan created called The Broadway Alliance, which was designed to reduce the cost threshold which might be keeping certain works from Broadway. Only four shows were ever produced under this plan, which had achieved concessions from all of the unions but also capped a show’s capitalization in order to qualify; to my recollection, the limit was $400,000. The two regional shows that did make it to Broadway under this plan were the aforementioned production of Our Country’s Good, from Hartford Stage, and The Speed of Darkness, from the Goodman. The former ran for 48 regular performances, the latter for 36. Skimping doesn’t make for success on Broadway. In addition, a stand-alone project seeking a downtown berth, designed to import productions from resident theatres, the American National Theatre, was trumpeted by the New York Times in September 2003 as a $170 million, three-theatre project in lower Manhattan. More than seven years later, there is no such building nor to my knowledge has the organization behind it imported any productions. 2. The theatres are full. Even though we’re just weeks from the annual spate of January closings, which every year is bemoaned as a sign that Broadway is unsound, as if such mass closings had never happened before, those theatres will be filled again by April. If any of those shows opt to not go forward, there’s probably a backup booking for every single theatre, and in some cases, backups to the backups. This is not the 1980s, when we saw the Mark Hellinger sold to become a church, and owning theatres is, in part, a real estate business. No one rents space cheaply when demand is high, and no one is likely to be charitable when there’s money to be made. 3. There are already resident theatres on Broadway. While the term regional doesn’t apply, we now have three not-for-profit companies, operating on LORT contracts, with their own Broadway houses: Roundabout with three and Manhattan Theatre Club and Lincoln Center Theatre with one each (LCT also frequently rents Broadway houses when the Beaumont has a long-runner on its stage, such as South Pacific); Second Stage is slated to join that cohort soon. Combine the output of those three theatres with shows that start Off-Broadway in not-for-profits and then make the move onto the Great White Way (a journey pioneered with great success by The Public Theatre with A Chorus Line and sustained today by a plethora of shows from The Public alone), and the kind of work that regionals/not-for-profits do around the country is hardly alien to Broadway. Further, with short-run, often star-led limited runs of works by such resident staples as Mamet, Williams and Miller, it’s hard to say that there’s a notable distinction between the kind of work seen in major regional productions or on Broadway, save for the big musicals. 4. Press and Producers Rarely Travel. To get a regional show to Broadway, one must find a producer who wants to champion the show and take it on as a major commitment. Unfortunately, producers aren’t flying to theatres around the country constantly checking out every possible new play and revival for their next Broadway success. And unless you’re in a major city and you have a preponderance of positive reviews by long established critics (whose numbers are in decline), your own entreaties aren’t likely to cause anyone to jump on a plane unless you already have a relationship with them. As for “national press” discovering your work and bringing it to the attention of New York bound producers, your only real option is luring The Wall Street Journal’s Terry Teachout to see your show (and Terry regularly publishes his guidelines for what he’s likely to be interested in). While The New York Times ventures out of town on occasion (though most frequently to the Berkshires, Chicago or London, it seems), it’s rare even for the country’s largest newspaper, USA Today, to see work outside of New York; attention from television and radio is even rarer. There are many reasons for this, but as old-line mass media is fighting for its own place in the American consciousness, covering regional theatre is not a key point in their strategy, and thus a one-time tool is blunted. Internet-based writing has yet to achieve the same level of influence. 5. Broadway is really expensive. With plays costing between $2 and $3 million dollars to produce, and musicals typically ranging from $6 to $18 million (Spider-Man is an outlier), quality is not enough. There are indeed great plays, new and classic, produced around the country, but do they have enough inherent appeal to draw between six thousand and twelve thousand theatergoers on a consistent weekly basis long enough to recoup the investment that goes into bringing them to Broadway? A smash hit resident run in a large house might drawn 20 to 30 thousand audience members; that equals roughly three weeks on Broadway. 6. Planning for a regional hit is really hard. Frankly, we rarely (if ever) know what will be a hit on our own stages, let alone on Broadway. Until productions are up and running, there can be no judgment, and since Broadway theatres aren’t sitting idle, and even a New York not-for-profit can’t afford to hold slots open while waiting for a regional success to crop up, planning a New York stage schedule around what may come to pass is problematic, under commercial or non-commercial producing guidelines. In addition, runs are fairly short at resident companies, so there’s very little time to get the word out once you’re sure you do have something particularly noteworthy on your stage. I could go on, with my brutal tough love for you all. And no one should misconstrue anything I’ve said as being anti-Broadway. I’ve repeatedly confessed to the thrill it has given me in the past, and I have seen extraordinary work there. It continues to be a magnet for major talent, who like many of you, have been seduced by the Lullaby of Broadway. And on occasion, it has provided windfalls of publicity, pride and money for not-for-profit resident companies whose work has made the trip there successfully. So if Broadway is still your desire, let me speak to things you might consider, and explore, in order to make the trip. A. Are you on mission? Many theatres around the country include in their mission statements phrases like “create theatre of a national stature” or “contribute to the national repertoire.” These are admirable, but presumably they are preceded, both in order of appearance and priority by a phrase about “serving their local community” or some defined constituency therein. So before you set your sights on Broadway, make sure your board of directors or trustees are truly behind any effort in that direction but with measured expectations of success, lest you find that your Broadway dreams undermine your relationship with your core audience, which must sustain you whether you produce the next Rent or the next Bobbi Boland. B. Is the show likely to engage the hearts and minds of the New York press and theatre cognoscenti? There are plenty of shows that are brilliantly suited to regional theatres, and please audiences enormously, but simply don’t have the style or subject that’s likely to get past the gatekeepers of opinion in The Big Apple. That’s no insult to the work, your company or your audience, and their success on your stages are a testament to the perceptiveness of your artistic staff. But be brutal about whether the piece can compete in the crowded and often elitist New York marketplace, even though work on Broadway has to appeal to the largest possible audience. Yes, it’s a paradox, and it’s hard to judge your own work dispassionately, but it’s a necessity. Also, in the case of revivals, check to see when the show you’re hoping to move was last on Broadway. It’s been roughly 25 years since Broadway last saw The Merchant of Venice, but the current one has Al Pacino and the last one had Dustin Hoffman. You’re not likely to land your Merchant on Broadway anytime soon, since America, unlike England, seems to think we can only have great plays in our commercial venues (or even in New York) every 10 to 20 years, instead of annually. C. Take on commercial partners. I wrote last week about the double-edged sword of producing shows at your theatre that already have been optioned commercially, so I won’t rehash it, except to say that there are plenty of commercial producers seeking berths on resident stages in order to try out work or get it on its feet more economically. I refer you first back to item A above, and then, if the work itself (not the prospect of Broadway glory or the hope of enhancement money) truly appeals, make your decision accordingly. But don’t rent your stage to the highest bidder, and be sure you do full due diligence on the background of any prospective partner before you figuratively get into bed with them. D. Find a New York or tri-state area not-for-profit with whom you can partner.Unless you are going to self-produce, the challenge outlined above in item 4 is significantly mitigated if you get the show closer to New York so it becomes easier for “the right people” to see it. Shows frequently play Off-Broadway or even Off-Off-Broadway and then are moved to Broadway when the New York press embrace them.Avenue Q didn’t leap from the barn at the Eugene O’Neill Theatre Center to Broadway; it came to New York first as a co-production of The Vineyard Theatre and The New Group (though in that case, there were commercial producers behind it all along).Marvin’s Room had been acclaimed in Chicago, but had no legs until the New York Times saw it at Hartford, after which it went to Playwrights Horizons and then to a commercial Off-Broadway run; Wit had a comparable experience as it went from South Coast Rep to a wholly separate production at Long Wharf, which in turn went to MCC Theatre and then to the Union Square and a Pulitzer Prize. Don’t be afraid to share your show with other not-for-profits to give it a chance at a New York berth. You’ll get reviews to bring back home regardless of the ultimate outcome, and your risk will be vastly less. E. Do it yourself. I’m personally not keen on this, but if you live in a large enough community, you might just be able to stir up enough local pride and money to raise funds to produce a show in New York on your own. Let’s remember, there may be plenty of folks who loved the show on your stage who believe it should reach a wider audience, and may pull out money to support such an effort that they might not have donated to you, since with a commercial production, there’s at least the prospect of financial gain. After all, these are the people who saw the effect the show had in your theatre. But if you choose this route, be very careful that you make no promises of success or return, and indeed are bluntly honest about the prospect of financial success for any Broadway show; that should commit to future donations even if the commercial effort fails. You don’t want these people abandoning you altogether if the trip to Broadway goes sour. In addition, unless you have key staff with prior Broadway experience of note, hire highly recommended people to run the production for you in New York. A not-for-profit artistic or managing director may be brilliant in that context, but if they aren’t experienced commercial hands, this is not the time to afford them on-the-job training. Broadway is our Field of Dreams; there’s no denying it, and it’s great to have an icon that makes the idea of American theatre an international beacon. But Broadway cannot, and never really has, represented every type of theatre, and in a country as large as ours, why should we restrict our imaginations to 40 theatres in Manhattan? We are a very large country geographically, politically, economically and aesthetically. Our literally hundreds of theatre companies and thousands upon thousands of theatre artists do themselves a disservice if they measure success by a single metric. There are periodic calls for a National Theatre for the United States, but to make (or to allow) a single venue to carry that imprimatur is even narrower than Broadway dreams. All theatre in America, commercial or not-for-profit, is our national theatre and success on Broadway should be no more or less legitimate an achievement than success on any stage. I am as proud to have been part of shows that never reached Broadway and played to perhaps 18,000 people in Hartford CT as I am of shows that went to New York and died a quick death, or those that made the same trip and have subsequently been produced across the country. But please, make theatre for your audience first and foremost, support the work of artists less known than those who intermittently reach Broadway; that’s what resident theatre, and presumably your company, was founded to do. And if your work makes it to Broadway (or Los Angeles or Seattle or Chicago or…), I hope I get the opportunity to see it, and I look forward to applauding it.
This post originally appeared on the American Theatre Wing website. |