I find it impossible to review a production of Tony Kushner's masterpiece Angels in America.
Why? Well, for one, the play is the thing. It's one of the most stunning pieces of writing ever, and definitely the best play of the twentieth century. We always discuss who the "new" Shakespeare is (Sondheim? Eminem? Lin-Manuel Miranda?) but going by Angels in America alone, I argue that it is Kushner. His writing is dense and poetic, political, and absolutely beautiful, and yet accessible and entertaining. Unless some director makes some drastic cuts to the script (and he or she should not!), the text is there, the beauty is there.
Another reason is that I am so close to the material. I've mentioned before that it is one of my favorite plays (along with Hamlet and The Pillowman) but I can't even begin to tell you how much it means to me. I read it for the first time when I was maybe fourteen, right around the time the HBO movie was released. I read it and watched that movie so much that it became almost like a Bible to me, Kushner my god. I am not ashamed to say that I can still recite large, large chunks of it to this day, and may quote it in my everyday life. (Ask me what time a show is and I will say, "Show's at 8. Theater's always at 8." And I have tried to have my life motto be "do you want to be nice or do you want to be effective?" but well, I am not a ruthless monster like Roy Cohn. I guess I do want to be nice.)
Bottom line is I will always love Angels in America.
The current revival, directed by the always brilliant Marianne Elliot, is doing such incredible justice to Kushner's great work. Her direction shows she has great understanding and respect for the text, all while making it fresh and exciting for someone who knows it inside out. The pacing is outstanding; when the last scene of the first act of Millennium Approaches started, I thought, "what? We're here already!?" The plays run 3:30 and 4:00 but they just flew by. I've seen 80 minute plays that felt endless. (Again, length isn't always an issue. I love Annie Baker's work. Martin McDonagh's stuff tends to run closer to three hours. Jerusalem and August: Osage County are two of my favorite plays of the last ten years.) I do think the two intermissions help (even Describe the Night, which wasn't the strongest play, still felt easy to sit through because it had two intermissions.) But I still credit Elliott with keeping the play and the momentum going. And another thing that is just beautiful about this play is that it is so firmly set in 1985 and 1986 (and well, 1990) and it does not feel dated at all. Yes, it deals with the AIDS crisis but it just feels so universal (unlike the recent Falsettos revival that felt so dated) and fresh.
It helps that she has such a magnificent cast with which to work. Oh, are they all doing stunning work.
Susan Brown excels in each of her roles (I have to say that my favorite was Henry, Roy Cohn's doctor) and brings a harsh coldness to Hannah that worked very well. Her inability to empathize with her son (especially during their phone call; is there a harsher line than "you're old enough to understand your father didn't love you without being ridiculous about it?") shows how much repression she's faced in her life as a woman in the Mormon church. She cannot toss off the life she has lived to accept Joe or homosexuality in general, so when she does befriend and help Prior, it's an amazing moment.
Amanda Lawrence is outright amazing as the Angel, forceful and frightening, yet pitiful in the way she's supposed to be in Kushner's text. Heaven is crumbling, God has fled, the angels are suffering. Elliot's design displays this perfectly. This angel is not the beautiful, pristine ones that are depicted in Christianity. The shabby wings, the tattered American flag wrapped around her waist, the shadows carrying her from place to place all make perfect sense.
Nathan Stewart-Jarrett is a strong Belize but relies too heavily on the humor of the part. He delivers his big moments beautifully but it's hard to get Jeffrey Wright's performance out of my head. Wright had a level of menace and sarcasm that I think is missing from Stewart-Jarrett's Belize.
Lee Pace, the lone newcomer to the cast, makes for a heartbreaking Joe Pitt. I had never felt Joe's turmoil so clearly. Pace clearly portrays a man who is conflicted and confused, and while he comes off as pathetic, it's also hard to see him as a villain. Joe is dealing with his sexuality, after what we can assume has been a lifetime of sexual repression and being told that what he is is wrong and sinful. He has a mentally ill wife. This doesn't excuse his abandonment of Harper but through Pace, I can understand it. He has to find himself and love himself before he can love anyone else. Pace's Joe has a lovely touch of naivety, and his infatuation of Louis is akin to a young girl having her first crush on a boy (or girl). Of course he doesn't love Louis. But Louis' rejection of him is heartbreaking, and I actually worried about Joe at the end of Perestroika, in a way I don't think I ever have.
God, I love Harper Pitt. Kushner gives her the most beautiful, poetic language of the plays and Denise Gough, giving one of the best performance of the season, delivers it with such gorgeous conviction. Harper is well, adrift, in the world of the piece, trying to find her place as she deals with mental illness, addiction, and a husband who is gay and has abandoned her. Gough's Harper has an ethereal quality to her; she's a waif that doesn't quite have a place anywhere in this world.
Nathan Lane's giving one of his best performances of his career as Roy Cohn. He is such an amazing presence on stage, and so commanding. He doesn't play Roy as an all-out monster. Lane's Roy has a touch of charm to him, definitely charismatic, which lets us understand why Joe would trust him (Roy is also a father-figure for him). He perfectly portrays the persuasive quality of the character, all the while telling us to keep Roy at arm's length. He is not to be trusted. But then he shows that he is downright frightening, that he could literally end lives just because he wanted to. What Lane does well (I mean, what doesn't he do well?) is never let the audience sympathize with Cohn. No matter how sick we see him, no matter how much he calls out for his mother, Lane's Roy is still a horrible person. His death is shown as being so matter-of-fact. The only downside to him dying is that we lose Roy and Nathan Lane's delicious portrayal.
I have spent the last fifteen years hating Louis Ironson. How can you make excuses for him? Well, I don't have an excuse for him leaving Prior (other than fear) but James McArdle's incredible portrayal of the role makes me understand Louis more than ever before. He's not irredeemable (and really, when Roy Cohn is a character too, how can you say Louis is irredeemable?) but he's giving into the scare that was the AIDS crisis at the time. Louis is selfish, he lacks self-awareness, he's long-winded, and neurotic. God, is he neurotic. But is he a bad person? Nah, I don't think so. And McArdle portrayals all of this stunningly. And he's funny! And for someone from Scotland, he gets the New York Jewishness of the character so well. McArdle's take on the character makes Louis a major player in piece, unlike I've ever seen before, and he particularly shines during the "have you no decency" scene.
I need to take a breath, take a moment, gather myself before I talk about Andrew Garfield. Prior Walter is one of my favorite characters in all of theater (up there with Hamlet) and like the prince of Denmark, I am very protective of the role. That's why I couldn't see Christian Borle in the role. That's why I was like, "Michael Urie? NOPE." (YOU FOOL.) I am a big fan of Andrew Garfield in general, and I thought it would be the perfect marriage of actor and role. I was wrong. I really hated his Prior. I think he starts at a 10 and has nowhere to go from there. He's so dramatic, flamboyant, and over the top. He doesn't let the material breathe like it should, and his histrionics ruin scenes like his early one with Harper (God, that's my favorite one!). When he quotes A Streetcar Named Desire towards the end of Perestroika, I turned to my boyfriend and said, "that's not funny. He's been doing Blanche DuBois for the past seven hours." TONE IT DOWN. Remember, fortunately wasps don't say "feh." And where you come from you're known as one cool, calm, collected queen. Luckily his performance wasn't a detriment to the production, I just wish someone had asked him to tone it down.
This revival of Angels in America is so perfect, so true to the material, in an era where production after production just doesn't trust their texts.
Why? Well, for one, the play is the thing. It's one of the most stunning pieces of writing ever, and definitely the best play of the twentieth century. We always discuss who the "new" Shakespeare is (Sondheim? Eminem? Lin-Manuel Miranda?) but going by Angels in America alone, I argue that it is Kushner. His writing is dense and poetic, political, and absolutely beautiful, and yet accessible and entertaining. Unless some director makes some drastic cuts to the script (and he or she should not!), the text is there, the beauty is there.
Another reason is that I am so close to the material. I've mentioned before that it is one of my favorite plays (along with Hamlet and The Pillowman) but I can't even begin to tell you how much it means to me. I read it for the first time when I was maybe fourteen, right around the time the HBO movie was released. I read it and watched that movie so much that it became almost like a Bible to me, Kushner my god. I am not ashamed to say that I can still recite large, large chunks of it to this day, and may quote it in my everyday life. (Ask me what time a show is and I will say, "Show's at 8. Theater's always at 8." And I have tried to have my life motto be "do you want to be nice or do you want to be effective?" but well, I am not a ruthless monster like Roy Cohn. I guess I do want to be nice.)
Bottom line is I will always love Angels in America.
The current revival, directed by the always brilliant Marianne Elliot, is doing such incredible justice to Kushner's great work. Her direction shows she has great understanding and respect for the text, all while making it fresh and exciting for someone who knows it inside out. The pacing is outstanding; when the last scene of the first act of Millennium Approaches started, I thought, "what? We're here already!?" The plays run 3:30 and 4:00 but they just flew by. I've seen 80 minute plays that felt endless. (Again, length isn't always an issue. I love Annie Baker's work. Martin McDonagh's stuff tends to run closer to three hours. Jerusalem and August: Osage County are two of my favorite plays of the last ten years.) I do think the two intermissions help (even Describe the Night, which wasn't the strongest play, still felt easy to sit through because it had two intermissions.) But I still credit Elliott with keeping the play and the momentum going. And another thing that is just beautiful about this play is that it is so firmly set in 1985 and 1986 (and well, 1990) and it does not feel dated at all. Yes, it deals with the AIDS crisis but it just feels so universal (unlike the recent Falsettos revival that felt so dated) and fresh.
It helps that she has such a magnificent cast with which to work. Oh, are they all doing stunning work.
Susan Brown excels in each of her roles (I have to say that my favorite was Henry, Roy Cohn's doctor) and brings a harsh coldness to Hannah that worked very well. Her inability to empathize with her son (especially during their phone call; is there a harsher line than "you're old enough to understand your father didn't love you without being ridiculous about it?") shows how much repression she's faced in her life as a woman in the Mormon church. She cannot toss off the life she has lived to accept Joe or homosexuality in general, so when she does befriend and help Prior, it's an amazing moment.
Amanda Lawrence is outright amazing as the Angel, forceful and frightening, yet pitiful in the way she's supposed to be in Kushner's text. Heaven is crumbling, God has fled, the angels are suffering. Elliot's design displays this perfectly. This angel is not the beautiful, pristine ones that are depicted in Christianity. The shabby wings, the tattered American flag wrapped around her waist, the shadows carrying her from place to place all make perfect sense.
Nathan Stewart-Jarrett is a strong Belize but relies too heavily on the humor of the part. He delivers his big moments beautifully but it's hard to get Jeffrey Wright's performance out of my head. Wright had a level of menace and sarcasm that I think is missing from Stewart-Jarrett's Belize.
Lee Pace, the lone newcomer to the cast, makes for a heartbreaking Joe Pitt. I had never felt Joe's turmoil so clearly. Pace clearly portrays a man who is conflicted and confused, and while he comes off as pathetic, it's also hard to see him as a villain. Joe is dealing with his sexuality, after what we can assume has been a lifetime of sexual repression and being told that what he is is wrong and sinful. He has a mentally ill wife. This doesn't excuse his abandonment of Harper but through Pace, I can understand it. He has to find himself and love himself before he can love anyone else. Pace's Joe has a lovely touch of naivety, and his infatuation of Louis is akin to a young girl having her first crush on a boy (or girl). Of course he doesn't love Louis. But Louis' rejection of him is heartbreaking, and I actually worried about Joe at the end of Perestroika, in a way I don't think I ever have.
God, I love Harper Pitt. Kushner gives her the most beautiful, poetic language of the plays and Denise Gough, giving one of the best performance of the season, delivers it with such gorgeous conviction. Harper is well, adrift, in the world of the piece, trying to find her place as she deals with mental illness, addiction, and a husband who is gay and has abandoned her. Gough's Harper has an ethereal quality to her; she's a waif that doesn't quite have a place anywhere in this world.
Nathan Lane's giving one of his best performances of his career as Roy Cohn. He is such an amazing presence on stage, and so commanding. He doesn't play Roy as an all-out monster. Lane's Roy has a touch of charm to him, definitely charismatic, which lets us understand why Joe would trust him (Roy is also a father-figure for him). He perfectly portrays the persuasive quality of the character, all the while telling us to keep Roy at arm's length. He is not to be trusted. But then he shows that he is downright frightening, that he could literally end lives just because he wanted to. What Lane does well (I mean, what doesn't he do well?) is never let the audience sympathize with Cohn. No matter how sick we see him, no matter how much he calls out for his mother, Lane's Roy is still a horrible person. His death is shown as being so matter-of-fact. The only downside to him dying is that we lose Roy and Nathan Lane's delicious portrayal.
I have spent the last fifteen years hating Louis Ironson. How can you make excuses for him? Well, I don't have an excuse for him leaving Prior (other than fear) but James McArdle's incredible portrayal of the role makes me understand Louis more than ever before. He's not irredeemable (and really, when Roy Cohn is a character too, how can you say Louis is irredeemable?) but he's giving into the scare that was the AIDS crisis at the time. Louis is selfish, he lacks self-awareness, he's long-winded, and neurotic. God, is he neurotic. But is he a bad person? Nah, I don't think so. And McArdle portrayals all of this stunningly. And he's funny! And for someone from Scotland, he gets the New York Jewishness of the character so well. McArdle's take on the character makes Louis a major player in piece, unlike I've ever seen before, and he particularly shines during the "have you no decency" scene.
I need to take a breath, take a moment, gather myself before I talk about Andrew Garfield. Prior Walter is one of my favorite characters in all of theater (up there with Hamlet) and like the prince of Denmark, I am very protective of the role. That's why I couldn't see Christian Borle in the role. That's why I was like, "Michael Urie? NOPE." (YOU FOOL.) I am a big fan of Andrew Garfield in general, and I thought it would be the perfect marriage of actor and role. I was wrong. I really hated his Prior. I think he starts at a 10 and has nowhere to go from there. He's so dramatic, flamboyant, and over the top. He doesn't let the material breathe like it should, and his histrionics ruin scenes like his early one with Harper (God, that's my favorite one!). When he quotes A Streetcar Named Desire towards the end of Perestroika, I turned to my boyfriend and said, "that's not funny. He's been doing Blanche DuBois for the past seven hours." TONE IT DOWN. Remember, fortunately wasps don't say "feh." And where you come from you're known as one cool, calm, collected queen. Luckily his performance wasn't a detriment to the production, I just wish someone had asked him to tone it down.
This revival of Angels in America is so perfect, so true to the material, in an era where production after production just doesn't trust their texts.
Comments
Post a Comment