It kind of amazes me that Joshua Harmon has had so many plays produced in such a short period of time.
This is not a knock at the quality of his writing or his talent. It's more about content and context. In an ever-changing theater landscape, where theater companies seem to be moving away from plays about affluent white people with affluent white problems, Harmon's plays seem like relics. (Although it's telling that they're produced by companies like Roundabout and Lincoln Center and not more adventurous companies like MCC or even Playwrights Horizons.) His latest offering, Skintight, which opened at, you guessed it, Roundabout, is yet another entry that focuses on very rich white people and their first world problems.
Is there still a place in 2018 for a play like Skintight, that revolves around an incredibly wealthy Jewish clothing designer (think Calvin Klein), Elliot, his wealthy lawyer daughter, her over-privileged gay 20 year old son (he's studying Queer Theory abroad in Budapest, no doubt at a prestigious school), and a 20 year old boy toy who is clearly just using Elliot for his money and status? Well, sure, I suppose. There is still room for breezy, sitcom-y plays that just entertain you and make you laugh for two hours. But they're shallow, they're not skin deep. And Skintight is no exception.
The problem with Skintight is that Joshua Harmon doesn't want it to be a shallow play and yet, doesn't quite know what it wants to be. We start the play with Jodi, who has barged into Elliot's West Village home unannounced to celebrate his seventieth birthday and complain about her ex-husband marrying a younger, tighter woman. While this immediately sets the stage for the play's running theme of youth and beauty triumphing over everything else in the end, it also makes the audience believe Jodi is going to be our protagonist, that we're going on her journey. (She's also introduced in one of Harmon's patented long, uninterrupted ranty monologues. Is his world, does nobody interject anything when someone else is speaking!?) But...not really. The play really revolves around Elliot, his relationship with Trey (who may or may not be gay but is definitely taking advantage of the older man's wealth and loneliness), and his struggles to remain relevant and desirable (sexually and within the world of fashion). Jodi really takes a back seat to his story, existing only to comment and (try to) throw a wrench into his life. (I'm not even sure why Benji, Jodi's son is involved in the proceedings. The play makes us believe he and Trey are going to have a sexual relationship, especially after a long scene that drags the first act to a close but it doesn't go there.)
Harmon also shoehorns the themes of Jewish identity, immigration, and the Holocaust into this play, for whatever reason. I guess he's trying to show how Elliot has overcome the adversity his family faced in the past to be so successful. But it makes Skintight a completely different play! It makes it unfocused and a bit messy. (Harmon also touches upon Elliot's substance abuses issues and less-than-stellar track record as a father but doesn't actually elaborate on them. Seems like a better idea to go into them than spend ten minutes having the undeveloped Hungarian housekeeper translate a note on an old photograph.) And what's worse, there's no real conflict! We just get 2:20 of Jodi trying to compete for her father's affections with Trey but we don't know enough about Jodi and Elliot's relationship up to this point to really care. Does it matter that the characters are pretty unlikable and their problems are petty? Nope. I watch practically every incarnation of The Real Housewives. I adore pettiness. But just make me care. Just interest me.
Skintight would've been a well, tighter, play had Harmon embraced it for what it is--a comedy about petty people and their petty problems. By shoehorning more serious themes into it, it cheapens, not deepens it. I think we've come to expect every play will be heavy and deep and have something to say about the current politic/social climate but you know what, it's okay to write a straight-up comedy.
Just make us care.
And have people interrupt one another. That's how people actually converse.
This is not a knock at the quality of his writing or his talent. It's more about content and context. In an ever-changing theater landscape, where theater companies seem to be moving away from plays about affluent white people with affluent white problems, Harmon's plays seem like relics. (Although it's telling that they're produced by companies like Roundabout and Lincoln Center and not more adventurous companies like MCC or even Playwrights Horizons.) His latest offering, Skintight, which opened at, you guessed it, Roundabout, is yet another entry that focuses on very rich white people and their first world problems.
Is there still a place in 2018 for a play like Skintight, that revolves around an incredibly wealthy Jewish clothing designer (think Calvin Klein), Elliot, his wealthy lawyer daughter, her over-privileged gay 20 year old son (he's studying Queer Theory abroad in Budapest, no doubt at a prestigious school), and a 20 year old boy toy who is clearly just using Elliot for his money and status? Well, sure, I suppose. There is still room for breezy, sitcom-y plays that just entertain you and make you laugh for two hours. But they're shallow, they're not skin deep. And Skintight is no exception.
The problem with Skintight is that Joshua Harmon doesn't want it to be a shallow play and yet, doesn't quite know what it wants to be. We start the play with Jodi, who has barged into Elliot's West Village home unannounced to celebrate his seventieth birthday and complain about her ex-husband marrying a younger, tighter woman. While this immediately sets the stage for the play's running theme of youth and beauty triumphing over everything else in the end, it also makes the audience believe Jodi is going to be our protagonist, that we're going on her journey. (She's also introduced in one of Harmon's patented long, uninterrupted ranty monologues. Is his world, does nobody interject anything when someone else is speaking!?) But...not really. The play really revolves around Elliot, his relationship with Trey (who may or may not be gay but is definitely taking advantage of the older man's wealth and loneliness), and his struggles to remain relevant and desirable (sexually and within the world of fashion). Jodi really takes a back seat to his story, existing only to comment and (try to) throw a wrench into his life. (I'm not even sure why Benji, Jodi's son is involved in the proceedings. The play makes us believe he and Trey are going to have a sexual relationship, especially after a long scene that drags the first act to a close but it doesn't go there.)
Harmon also shoehorns the themes of Jewish identity, immigration, and the Holocaust into this play, for whatever reason. I guess he's trying to show how Elliot has overcome the adversity his family faced in the past to be so successful. But it makes Skintight a completely different play! It makes it unfocused and a bit messy. (Harmon also touches upon Elliot's substance abuses issues and less-than-stellar track record as a father but doesn't actually elaborate on them. Seems like a better idea to go into them than spend ten minutes having the undeveloped Hungarian housekeeper translate a note on an old photograph.) And what's worse, there's no real conflict! We just get 2:20 of Jodi trying to compete for her father's affections with Trey but we don't know enough about Jodi and Elliot's relationship up to this point to really care. Does it matter that the characters are pretty unlikable and their problems are petty? Nope. I watch practically every incarnation of The Real Housewives. I adore pettiness. But just make me care. Just interest me.
Skintight would've been a well, tighter, play had Harmon embraced it for what it is--a comedy about petty people and their petty problems. By shoehorning more serious themes into it, it cheapens, not deepens it. I think we've come to expect every play will be heavy and deep and have something to say about the current politic/social climate but you know what, it's okay to write a straight-up comedy.
Just make us care.
And have people interrupt one another. That's how people actually converse.
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