Four Horsepeople of the Theater Apocalypse

OK, I admit it, I was just looking for a provocative title to this mash-up post.  There is no apocalypse, no bustiers, and no flaming disasters discussed in this post.  Forgive me if you feel that you arrived here under false pretenses.  It's just that I've recently seen four pieces of theater, all with intriguing on-stage and back stories.  I've enjoyed all of them, some more than others, of course.  But I just wanted to make brief mention of them all, since they're stories of people you don't ordinarily see depicted on a lot of mainstages, even today, and that kind of thing is always worth talking about.

photo credit: Matthew Murphy

First up is The Wrong Man, a new musical at MCC.  I really enjoy seeing shows at MCC's new space - everyone on staff is delightful, the space is airy and large, and the productions are very well-produced.  The Wrong Man tells the story of Duran, a seemingly ordinary guy who is framed for two murders and gets sentenced to death.  That plot point is sort of laid out in the first song, so it's not really a spoiler.  Duran is played by Joshua Henry, who is one of my absolute favorites.  He sings like a dream, is a committed, honest actor and immediately garners our sympathy.  Everyone in the cast is good, to tell the truth, but the production around them is a little more middling.  I wish I had liked the music more than I did, though there were two songs that stood out for me.  I thought the production was perhaps over-directed and over-choreographed, though two of the dance sequences were very evocative and successful on their own terms.  I often wished they would just be still and tell the story, but maybe that was just me.  I liked some of The Wrong Man, and would definitely catch another production from this team, but I didn't find this particular piece entirely successful.

photo credit: Russ Rowland

I recently saw the New York premiere of Idris Goodwin's Bars and Measures at Urban Stages.  I saw an early play of Goodwin's at Humana a number of years ago and greatly enjoyed it, so I was grateful to receive a free ticket to check out this new piece.  Loosely based on a true story, Bars and Measures tells the story of two brothers who are also musicians - one is a classical musician, trying to get a job with an illustrious music program.  The other is a jazz musician of renown, who is in prison awaiting trial.  The brothers are simpatico in their love of music and seeing the world through music, but they are diametrically opposed in their view of the world and religion.  Eric, the younger brother and classical musician, is a Christian.  Bilal, the older brother in prison, is a Muslim.  How radicalized he has become is a plot point that we see play out both in flashback and in the 'now' of the play.  Goodwin has a real gift for dialogue and characterization - you could feel the pendulum going back and forth with whoever had the power and the truth behind them at any moment.  I felt for these brothers and understood the conflict of loving your sibling and finding their belief system untenable.  I found a lot to think about and dig into during Bars and Measures and I think it's well worth your time.  I look forward to seeing more work by Idris Goodwin.

photo credit: Jeremy Daniel

Next is Power Strip, by Sylvia Khoury, playing at LCT3 (the Off-Broadway space above the Vivian Beaumont Theatre at Lincoln Center).  I know Sylvia a bit and have enjoyed her work before (you can check out some thoughts I had on one of her other plays, Against the Hillside, here), so you may take whatever I say with a grain of salt.  Power Strip is a smart and deeply moving play about Syrian refugees at a camp in Greece.  But it's also about so much more than that.  It's about women having agency over their bodies, and dismantling the patriarchy, and discovering your own worth; it's about the cumulative impact of violence on our society and the thought that we can change our situation but can we change our values.  The production is beautifully directed and designed, and the acting is fantastic; Sylvia has created four characters of depth, truth, and determination.  And a lot of regret.  Her dialogue is fantastic, both in what the characters are saying, not saying, and what they actually mean.  I thought the play was going to take me one place and it led me somewhere totally unexpected, which I love.  I was moved and intrigued by Power Strip and I highly recommend you see it.  You can see more of Sylvia's work in 2020 at Playwrights Horizons (Selling Kabul, in March) - I will be there for sure.

photo credit: Sara Krulwich

This afternoon, I was treated to an unexpected Tony ticket to see Slave Play.  You may remember that I saw Slave Play downtown earlier this year - you can read my review of that production HERE.  My feelings after the performance today were similar to my feelings after the performance in January - there's a lot to unpack and sort through and I feel as if maybe I'm not the person to do it.  I will say that I greatly enjoyed seeing how Jeremy O Harris constructed that first scene, leading into the second and third scenes (knowing about the 'twist' coming let me concentrate on how he put things together).  That was really intriguing to me and just re-emphasized what a smart writer Harris is.  I do think the play is being played a little more broadly now (for a bigger theater? Maybe.), and I think the first scene has more 'clues' that all is not what it seems than I remember seeing before.  I was moved this time by one of the couples, but probably not the one I was supposed to be moved by.  I think the last scene made a little more sense to me this time, but I still felt an intellectual distance from it, which is probably on me.  I had a friend ask me about Slave Play the other day and I tried to describe to her why it's hard for me to talk about it - this is a TERRIBLE ANALOGY, I know, but I compared the experience of my seeing it to the experience of the film Love, Actually.  I have a lot of friends who find that movie romantic and fun, while I find it profoundly diminishing, deeply misogynistic, and depressing.  So women of color who find Slave Play offensive are experiencing it with a different perspective than I am, even more strongly than any play can give any audience member a different experience.  Sigh.  I'm explaining myself badly and I sure do talk about Slave Play a lot for someone who says they shouldn't be talking about it.  I say decide for yourself - if you want to see a play that is provocative and demands a lot from you, see Slave Play.  Even if you don't enjoy it, you'll probably never experience anything like it again.  How often can you say that?