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Pedro Pascal, Michael
Levinton, and Derek Lucci
May 30 – I’m so thrilled that I got my ass down to CSC to see David Greenspan’s
Old Comedy, After Aristophanes’ Frogs. (I heard two different
alter kockers in the lobby questioning the theater’s staff – “Is it two plays?”) It was a dazzling collision of Greenspan and Aristophanes, with the kind of zany, comic topicality
mixed with history, philosophy, and poetry that we know from theater historians characterized Aristophanic drama but that usually comes across poorly in modern adaptations. In
The Frogs, Dionysus goes to Hades wanting to bring back a poet to save the country mired in a fucked-up war, and it becomes a showdown between Aeschylus and Euripides.
In Burt Shevelove's adaptation, which Nathan Lane updated for a production at Lincoln Center a couple of seasons ago,
that battle became a one-liner slam between Shakespeare and Shaw. Greenspan pits Walt Whitman against Mark Twain, but then also bounces around a couple of threesomes: Joyce, Stein, and Faulkner, and Williams, Miller, and O’Neill. The density of referentiality was dizzying, the theatrical invention moment by moment delirious, and it was all fun. Nicely staged by David Hershkovits, snazzy set by David Evans Morris, and a bunch of good performances, especially by Derek Lucci as the narrating slave, Xanthias. Go read
Michael Feingold’s smart review for more details.
May 31 – I didn’t care for Passing Strange
when I saw it at the Public Theater, so I went back to see it on Broadway with Stephen, to see if I’d missed something. But no. If anything, I disliked the show even more. Yes, it is a coming of age story, a portrait of the artist as a young man, with a lot of the usual jejune highlights, and yes, this particular story hasn’t been told before – portrait of the artist as a young black man from middle-class Los Angeles who’s into punk-rock and European art cinema. But to revisit a packet of clichés, you need a certain amount of charm and freshness. And I find Stew to be a charmless and self-satisfied presence onstage, his music tuneless (mid-tempo blues-rock reminiscent of Bad Company), the book witless and repetitious. His alter-ego Youth resists joining the youth choir at church…until he meets a pretty girl and she makes everything alright. He feels bewildered and lost when he makes his first European trip to Amsterdam…until he meets a pretty girl and she makes everything alright. He goes to Berlin and is frightened by the political unrest and aggression…until he meets a pretty girl, etc. The big number in the first act features the endless refrain of “It’s alright.” Other major sentiments repeated and underlined: “Only love is real.” And “I let my Pain fuck my Ego and I called the bastard Art.” Many of the performers were cool and compelling downtown; now they spend way too much of the evening shouting at the audience. And Ben Brantley and Charles Isherwood both think it deserves the Tony for Best Musical? And the
Obie Award committee named it The Best New American Theater Piece of the season? Whatever….
June 1 – Bicycling around Central Park on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I stopped at Bethesda Fountain and finally got to see
Thoth in person. I’d recently watched Sarah Kernochan’s Academy-Award-winning documentary short film about this bi-racial bisexual guy who “pray-forms” in a loincloth and makeup, playing violin, stamping boots rigged with bells, and singing in a multi-octave voice excerpts from an elaborate three-part opera of his own composition. He’s a holy freak. When I arrived he was in a quiet moment, chatting familiarly with a spectator. He was preparing to start “pray-forming,” standing and centering himself holding a bell, when a gaggle of 20 or so loud
young black kids came roaring through the Angel Tunnel and surrounded him, jeering, making fun, snapping their fingers and trying to break his concentration. He held perfectly still and absorbed their ridicule until most of them drifted away. The few stayed and watched for the next 10 minutes may have had a life-changing experience of what’s possible when you mix music, dance, and sacred intention. The way he exposes himself publicly is amazing, scary, brave – a true sannyasin – and though he is clearly a little nervous and shaky, he’s also clearly committed to what he’s doing. And very approachable. I emptied my wallet into his tip container. Go see him, and watch the movie. You can always find out
his schedule on his website.
Later that night – I went with Tom (above) to see Saved – the Musical at Playwrights Horizons, which I liked quite a lot and am writing about for the
Advocate.
see previous entry here
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