The Tempest

This post is inspired by the recent production of The Tempest, produced by The New York Shakespeare Festival and directed by Michael Greif. My previous experience with The Tempest include seeing other full productions once or twice before and playing Miranda in a production which I am hard pressed to remember. Like any Shakespearean play, it has its warts and its gems.

My specific thoughts on it are as follows:

- Sorting Out The Storm

The play opens on a boat that's in the middle of being shipwrecked by a storm. Understandably, it's a fairly chaotic moment. And it involves a large group of people. Since the dialogue isn't loaded down with a whole lot of exposition, I would want to use this scene to distinguish the relationships between the 4 main groups of people who come from the boat. They are:

• The Sailors: The Captain and Crew of the boat. They want the king and all his entourage to out of the way and stay safely below deck.
• The Good Guys: Alonso (the King), Ferdinand (the Prince) and Gonzalo (the Courtier). These guys are kind of just hanging out trying to not die in the storm. Ferdinand does not technically appear in scene (he has no lines), but given that we don't otherwise see him with him father until the end of the play, this is the one point where we could visually establish their relationship.
• The Bad Guys: Antonio (the Duke) and Sebastian (the King's Brother). These guys are hotheads. They're quick to berate the crew and think they are the ones who should be calling all the shots.
• The Fools: Stephano and Trinculo. These clowns don't have any lines in the first scene, but I think it would be good to see them, so that we can establish visually that they were on the boat. Plus their first scene doesn't come up until fairly late in the play. (In my ideal world, I would also have these two do a quick interstitial cross, after we've established that the men from the boat are wandering around the island but before their first scene, just to establish that they are also alive and wandering the island.) These guys largely live to get drunk and secure the best station in life that they can with the least amount of energy.

If we can establish these groups either through stage pictures or by costuming (or both), that lays a great foundation for what's coming up.

- Miranda/Prospero Relationship

There's something wonderfully teenage about the relationship Miranda has with her father. This relationship strikes me as one of the most contemporary feeling parent/child relationships in Shakespeare. Many of the others seem to have a formal distance between parent and child, but this one seems much closer. There is a sense of banter. It feels like Miranda has been raised to consider her father as an equal and he, for his part, largely enjoys being able to converse with her now that she is becoming an adult (although, he is sometimes annoyed with her precociousness). In their first scene, it's important for Prospero to drive the scene. If he doesn't keep speaking (or if what he's saying isn't significant enough to Miranda) she should (given the context of the scene) interrupt him - initially in an effort to save the ship she thinks is sinking and then to find out more about this astonishing secret past that he reveals. (I think it's also helpful if in his telling of this backstory, if Prospero can highlight with team we're supposed to root for - Milan or Naples. Because to me, those cities are interchangeable as I'm sitting there listening to the play. But they are most definitely NOT interchangeable to Prospero (or any of the people who were on the boat), and that's information worth knowing.)

- That Scene with Prospero, Miranda and Caliban

Why, for the love of God, does Prospero bring Miranda with him when he goes to see Caliban, the beast-man who tried to rape her?!? This production at one point even had Prospero pushing Miranda toward Caliban - a choice which I still cannot fathom. She doesn't have any lines while Caliban is present. It almost seems like she's there in the scene with Caliban just to have her on stage when Ferdinand enters a few moments later. Regardless, I think we have to see Prospero protecting her from Caliban. Otherwise, Prospero wins the award for worst dad ever. Also, it doesn't seem out of the ordinary for Prospero and Miranda to go see Caliban together. It seems like this is how things typically unfold. I suppose if Caliban is being made to fetch their wood and build their fire, he would be going to their dwelling, at some point, to do so. And in that case, it's better for Miranda to be away from there and safely with her father. But I don't think that reasoning is implicit in the text and I'm not sure if there's a way to trigger it non-verbally. Maybe if there's a way to see him doing the labor at their dwelling? (This production had a prison like cell that Caliban emerged from, which made sense to me. It seems to me that one would keep Caliban around (rather than kill him) only if his value outweighs his danger. Only if he's able to do major physical labor that you are unable to do. However, that creates the need to be able to restrain him from being able to harm Miranda or restrain Miranda from wandering the island by herself so that she doesn't encounter him alone. Prospero doing a bit of both seems likely.) I don't know. It always strikes me as really weird scene. 

- Prospero

It's easy for Prospero to seem like an ass. He put the country in his brother's control while he was off studying magic. Then he doesn't like that by the time he gets back all the supporting officials have become loyal to his brother. Perhaps taking a magic hiatus is not a crime worthy of exile, but it's also not the best way to handle your divine responsibilities. He continues to renege on his promise to release Ariel, despite Ariel doing everything he says. In order for me to root for Prospero to be restored to his throne, I would like to see some kind of recognition of his failings, like "this was partly my fault for studying magic instead of ruling my country." "Ariel, I know I said you could go, but I still need you so I'm going to have to keep you locked up for a bit longer." I know these aren't in the text, but I think they could be implied in the delivery. He also enslaves Caliban. He "enslaves" Ferdinand (who is presumably treated better than Caliban, but is charged with doing exactly the same labor). In light of these not so noble actions, I think it's important to look for ways in which he can be likeable because ultimately we want to root for him to regain his throne. We want to believe that he's a competent ruler. (I also think it's worth noting that Prospero need not be aged to the point of having white hair. By the timeline laid out Miranda is supposed to be 15. Even if we age her up to her 20s, Prospero could easily be only in his 40s. Indeed, Sam Waterston played this same role at The Public years ago. I mention this because I tend see the part played by men who appear to be in their 60s)

- Caliban

Caliban is incredibly articulate for someone who's speaking in a second language - the bulk of his lines are even in verse. This production tried to give him some kind of speech impediment, as a means of conveying his brutish, I'm-part-animal quality - as though speaking the language were still difficult for him. But we have to remember it's been 12 years since Miranda and Prospero landed on the island. Conservatively, Caliban's been speaking this language, and only this language unless he speaks to the other animals on the island, for the past 10 years. Even if he has some kind of accent (or speech impediment), finding the words (because of a language barrier) should not come in to play. I think his beast-ness should instead come from some kind of huge physical presence. I would love for him to come across as something like Wolverine or the Incredible Hulk - a ridiculously strong, basically human form with wild emotions who's super useful for certain things but difficult to control. Is Lebron James available? Because he would be about the right size to make everyone else seem puny. 

- The Island

I would love for the island itself to come across as beautiful, but crazy dangerous - like the rainforest where many of the plants and critters are gorgeous, but potentially deadly. Not sure how you convey that. Perhaps there could be some staging with Miranda and Ferdinand where you see her stopping him from touching some of the wild life? Where you see her indicating "eat this, not that" or "don't touch those". Especially, since you have the lines where Caliban talks about how he taught Miranda and Prospero how to survive on the island. It would stand to reason that Ferdinand would also need to be taught some survival basics about the terrain.

- Magic Rules

Wherever there is magic, there are rules for magic. It's important to clarify at least for the cast, if not also for the audience, what the rules are because rules help us understand how the game is being played. Prospero seems to be able to exercise physical control over the bodies of others in his immediate vicinity - plaguing Caliban with cramps, freezing Ferdinand's arm as he reaches for his sword, making Miranda instantly fall asleep - but lacks the ability to control the sea and the winds. (Presumably, since this is what he makes Ariel do and why he seems to be keeping Ariel prisoner). One of the things I appreciated in this production was a representation of Ariel causing the storm. This production utilized an army of spirits under Ariel's command, which I liked. But I would I have liked to see a more tangible communication between him and his legions or more of a recognition that he was directing them to do what they were doing. (The pronoun "he" will be used for this post, since this production chose to cast this role as male.) Although, Ariel having a whole troupe of spirits does make me wonder why he can't/doesn't utilize that against Prospero. It makes me want a clearer understanding of what exactly Prospero's hold over Ariel is. At the end of the play we have Prospero breaking his staff (and thereby giving up his magic powers). It's possible to tie this to Ariel's freedom, but this is only satisfying if we can establish a more direct link with this object being the thing that keeps Ariel prisoner throughout the play. (Writing this I'm reminded of a story that was on The Jim Henson Hour called The Heartless Giant. Basically the Giant is unkillable because his heart is hidden in a vault somewhere far away...until someone tracks the heart down and crushes it. Perhaps this kind of mythology could be established for Ariel and Prospero - where Prospero physically holds an aspect of Ariel captive, so that Ariel's form can roam around the island but never leave until what Prospero has is relinquished. I'll grant that this could be tricky to establish, but it's interesting to me.) Also, magic is not splendor, glitz or glamor. Magic is something we cannot explain. 

- What Turns Prospero's Heart?

Prospero spends the bulk of the play seeking revenge on his brother and then when they are finally face to face he's like "it's cool, I forgive you." Which begs the question, why does Prospero have this sudden change of heart? This production had a fun moment, where Miranda, in her delight and wonder at seeing a whole crowd of people on the island, unknowingly embraces her uncle - the one person her father would have most strongly objected to her hugging had he been able to stop her in time. While I didn't see them utilize this moment in this way, I think it could be shaped as the trigger for his change of heart.

- That Wedding

I've always found the wedding to be incredibly dull. I would love to see it really feel like the show erupts into celebration when the goddesses arrive. There is nothing that advances the plot in the lines that the Goddesses have. Why not turn that into some great gospel number...maybe reminiscent of the goddesses from Disney's Hercules? Also, Miranda says she's never seen another woman's face (and she's soon about to be wowed by the miracle of humans when she sees her uncle and the other men from the ship), so perhaps it's impactful to not see these goddesses as fancy humans? Perhaps they appear as some kind of creature? Or perhaps some element of nature (maybe in puppet form)? Or maybe even as shadows?

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more the merrier.

I Am Not A They.

I was working on a staged reading recently. Rehearsal time was limited, but it was just a brief excerpt of a larger work. The hope (expectation) of the creative team was that everyone would be off book for the final presentation. The end of our one rehearsal concluded with notes from the director, one of which went something like this, "I'm not going to name names, but some of you really haven't done enough preparation for this project. You guys are incredibly talented, but you need to go home and do your homework."

It's easy to imagine why this director addressed this issue in this fashion. He may have felt pressed for time. He may not have wanted to single anyone out. He may have just not really thought about it. But ultimately, I think it did more harm than good.

My initial response was one of confused shame. Did he mean me? I had been involved with this project in a previous iteration and while I was referring to my script due to changes that had been made late the night before I was not glued to it. I decided that he was not talking about me. I decided he was talking about two (possibly three) people out of our ten person ensemble. Certainly not the majority that you might infer from a group note like that. As I rode the elevator down with some other members of my cast (after a round of "Did you think I was unprepared?") the consensus that was reached was this: when you give a note like that, the offenders don't think it's for them and everyone else is already doing it.

The negative effects here are two fold. First, if his note was meant to apply to any of us who were in that elevator, it was not received. We all came to the conclusion that it was a note we should disregard. Any time an actor hears a note and thinks, "that must be meant for someone else," is dangerous. I think it sets a precedent for your future notes to be ignored and/or significantly watered down. Second, the scolding tone of the note created a negative emotional tone for the relationship. Of our 10 person cast, only one of the actors had worked with the director previously. For the rest of us, our first interaction with this person was being put on the defensive with regard to our professionalism in how we had prepared for this project.

My point is that this was not a group note. This was an individual note that happened to pertain to 2 or 3 people. If you're going to give a group note, it should be about information. (Any time you exit stage left, be sure to pull the curtain behind you.) If it's behavioral (Learns your lines. Pick up your cues. Etc.), it should be an individual note. Our strongest potential for change (which is what we're trying to do when we give notes), lies in our ability to make our relationships personal - our ability to say I see you specifically and what you're doing matters to me. It give the note immediacy, urgency and accountability. Giving personal notes, especially unpleasant ones like "you need to work harder" take more effort. But it reaps more rewards. 

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more the merrier.

All In The...Timing

My last post was inspired by Hamilton. This one is inspired by The Flick (directed by Sam Gold, currently remounted with its original cast at the Barrow Street Theatre). Or rather, this post is inspired by the radically different pacing that's exhibited by these two shows and the question of how timing effects storytelling.

Both of these shows are on the longer side. Hamilton was running around 2 hours and 45 minutes when I saw it. The Flick ran around 3 hours in it's previous run at Playwright's Horizon. (Although, it was 3 hours and 30 minutes when I saw it at Barrow Street, which was during previews. So perhaps they are in the process of tightening it up.) I would wager that Hamilton squeezes in at least double the volume of words that The Flick does within that roughly 3 hour period. Hamilton is an ever singing, ever moving roller coaster. The Flick is a slow burn of sparse language and even sparser action. Stylistically, I don't know if these shows could be more different. Yet, in theory, the goal remains the same - tell the story at hand with the greatest emotional impact possible.

As a general rule, I believe that lines should be delivered as quickly as possible while maintaining the integrity of the story. I believe that we should speak at the speed of thought (which tends to be pretty fast) and that pauses should be earned. As such, The Flick was a challenging piece for me to sit through with its massive gaps between sparse exchanges of dialogue. And while it was well executed by the performers and achieved the Chekhovian effect of making ordinary interactions poignant, I couldn't help but wonder if all that time was really necessary.

Because I'm really not sure that it was. I feel conflicted saying that. As I read various articles about how technology is shortening our attention spans - how musicians are having their instrumental interludes gutted in order to be played on the radio and the acronym TLDR (to long, didn't read) haunts articles that take longer than 60 seconds to read - I feel determined to retain my ability to focus in concentrated blocks of time. But at the same time I have very little use for theater that is described as being best for "serious theater goers" (as reviews from The Flick's initial run hearkened to). If our audience has to work to stay engaged with our story, maybe we need to adapt how we're telling it. I genuinely don't know what the answer to this is.

I would love to know, from a scientific standpoint, how time - specifically the gaps between cues - effects perception of the story. This is clearly the issue at hand for film editors all the time. But I would love to see a controlled experiment where the pauses between lines were systematically shortened to test whether or not the scene could be as effective in a shorter amount of time. Much like the way researchers test whether people make higher donations after receiving appeals letters written in blue on black ink. Until then, we'll have to continue to feel it out.

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more the merrier.

Start At The Top

I recently had the pleasure of attending a talk back for Hamilton, the fantastic new show by Lin-Manuel Miranda that's currently playing at the Public. The show is sung (or rapped) straight through from beginning to end. During the talk back, someone asked if Lin had ever considered making the format of the show be more like a traditional musical, with scenes broken up by songs. Lin responded that they had tried that, but because the language in the songs was so heightened there didn't seem to be anyway for the scenes to maintain the momentum of the music. So, instead they opted to let the piece be sung through, to start at a high point and build from there. And, amazingly, this is exactly what watching the show feels like. The opening number feels like you've been shot out of a cannon and the story continues to escalate through the whole show. It's one of the few performances where I've been exhausted by the end, as an audience member, because I have been watching and listening so intensely from start to finish.

This strikes me as a terrifying, but fantastic way to operate. Throw out the best idea you have and continue to raise the stakes. Often my instinct when I have an idea I'm really excited about is to view it as the climax (figuring out how to appropriately scale everything back that comes before it) rather than the starting point. This approach makes a lot of logical sense. It's much easier to plot your course if you know where your going. Plus, if you start with your best idea right out of the gate, you're in the daunting position of having to meet or exceed it in your next scene/song/moment. But the value of an artist lies in being able to present something in a way that feels fresh and new and relevant, not repackaging the same old thing over and over again. Which means part of our job description is stepping out onto a limb and taking risks.

If you want to do big things, you have to think big thoughts. The way that we get to a point where we think in big thoughts, is by routinely stretching our brain (and our comfort level) to produce big thoughts. If you read any of James Altucher's work (and I highly recommend it) this echoes his concept of how you can grow your creativity and train yourself to become an idea machine - by continually pushing your brain to think that way.

It's not genius, it's training. Time to start doing the heavy lifting.

(I'm trying to write shorter posts, so it's easier for you to read and me to write. I can't make any promises, but I'm trying.)

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more the merrier!

Carry the Ball Forward

For any large event (moving day, opening night, wedding, etc), I like to worry early and push hard right at the beginning. Like is a strong word. It's probably better to say I really DON'T like feeling any undue stress related to these events. In this case, when I say "stress", I mean the range of duress you feel between genuinely not knowing if you will be able to be ready on time and seriously doubting that you can be ready in time. I work very hard to avoid feeling this way. 

By and large, I'm successful in doing this by implementing a philosophy I call "carry the ball forward." Anytime you're looking eye to eye with a massive project, make constant progress any which way you can from the moment you become aware of your responsibilities. Big projects, especially in the creative realm, have many unknowns. They often include coordinating with a whole bunch of moving pieces. Various people with different agendas will likely need to converge on the same space in order to do what you need them to do. And there will never feel like there's enough time to get everything done. So, planning, strategizing and really making the most of the time you have beforehand will make everyone's life easier.

The benefits of this are two-fold. First, I can react to any last minute surprises from my calmest state of being and I have the bandwidth to actually deal with them, both of which enable me to give them my best response. Second, being well prepared going through the process allows my mind the time and space to think of other things that might come up. Which often translates to even fewer surprises.

Things that can help with this process...



MOTIVATION.

I like to think that everyone recognizes how fantastic pre-planning is, but that they sometimes find it difficult to get fired-up about it. Seth Godin was asked at a speaking event if he ever got nervous about presenting. He replied that he always gets nervous about it, but he's trained himself to be more worried about what the ramifications would be if he never presented again. If he never did this presentation, maybe he would never make the next one and the next one and so on. Maybe he would have to go back to doing work he didn't care about with people he didn't like for the rest of his career. By making the fear of not presenting so vivid, the initial fear of presenting pales in comparison. 

To that end, I invite you imagine the full experience of what being under-prepared for your big day would be like. On a physical level it might feel like that time in school where you thought you'd studied the right material, only to find out on the test that it was the other chapter you should have focused on. Your heart pounds, your stomach drops, your mouth goes dry, you start to sweat. Now consider how that unpreparedness could impact everyone else involved in this equation - the friends who gave up their Saturday to help you schlep boxes, the investors who believed in your vision enough to sink money into your project, your mom or dad who (presumably) will only see you get married once. Consider what would happen if there was suddenly an emergency in your own personal life - right before this event - that demanded your attention be elsewhere for a week? Injury or illness to your or a friend or family member, a catastrophe at work, a fire or robbery in your apartment building. Or perhaps imagine what it feels like when you have to pay double what you were expecting because you're forced to use the only vendor who can deliver within your time frame. I don't mean to rain on your parade, but all of these things are real possibilities. And you can either be a victim of your circumstances or you can be well prepared to take on the world. If you've done a great job of preparing, you'll be in the best position you can be to temper or take advantage of any last minute surprises. When the experience matters, set yourself up for success.

PLANNING. 

It's tempting to just jump right in and start doing stuff when something over-whelming is on the horizon. But without planning, this isn't progress. It's creating chaos. Not helpful. Not helpful at all. I start my planning by doing a huge brain dump with just plain old pen and paper. Start by writing down...

Categories.
Categories are the major areas of focus. These are the main components of your events. When I got married, my categories were things like "flowers", "food", "ceremony". If anything pops into your consciousness during this phase that isn't a category, write that somewhere in the margins so that it can be plugged into the process at the appropriate time. (If you're into mind mapping, this is a great place to use it.) The idea is to create as much of a broad scope as you can. Once I've got what seems like a good overview, I go back through each category and start identifying... 

Subcategories. 
Your subcategories are things that are manageable chunks, but still require a couple of steps of parts to complete. So, for example, my category of "flowers" yielded the subcategories "bouquets", "boutineers", "centerpieces", "accessories" and "misc. decorating". From there, I could move to...

Asking Questions.
How many boutineers do I need? What are the centerpieces going to be? What kind of flowers do I want? Am I going to hire a florist? Who do I know who might know a good florist in that area? Ask, ask, ask. As some things are answered, they will generate more questions. But this initial round of questions at least alerts you to what it is you know you don't know. From here, begin...

Prioritizing.
Prioritizing is initially a question of where your minimum requirements lie. What are the things that you absolutely could not be satisfied going without? Once you've determined your list of "must haves", then identify what from that list is going to take the most time to get done. (Note: if there's something that is on your "must have" list that you have no idea how you're actually going to pull off that automatically classifies something that will take the most time.) From there divide everything into one of three groups - "most important", "important" and "nice to have". If it's a top priority and you don't know how you're going to do it/you know it IS going to take a long time, it moves to the "most important" section. Just under that in the "important" realm will be the things that are straight forward and don't involve a long process. And lastly, the rest of the stuff that would be "nice to have", but is not imperative. Now for the fun of...

Identifying Next Actions.
What are the next actions (the first steps) that needs to happen for your top priority items? (This part of the process may trigger a whole other round of questions. Fear not. There will always be a certain amount of refining in this process.) Your list of next action steps should be as black and white as possible and ideally have a definite end point. It might be "decide on colors". It might be "ask my Facebook friends who they would recommend as a florist". It might be "research where I can buy 13 glass bowls for centerpieces". List these as succinctly as you can. If you've identified something as a next action but you actually need to do something else before you can complete it, it's not a next action. If you've listed "address envelopes" as your next action item, but you're still missing a number addresses from your mailing list, your next action item is actually "get missing addresses"...followed by "address envelopes". Once you've got your next immediate actions in order, you're welcome to list all subsequent actions that you can foresee. If the next action is "get missing addresses", the progression from there might be "address envelopes", "buy stamps", "mail invites", etc. (The difficulty I always have with this phase is in telling myself that I don't really need to break things down THAT explicitly. Although I'm capable of figuring out that addressing envelopes should come after actually getting the mailing address, I have a much better grasp of everything that needs to be done - and I'm able to plow through it faster - if I've identified the very next thing that needs to be done.) And now, the moment we've all been waiting for, you get to...

Go Wild!!
Attack that list of actions. If you're waiting for a response on one action, attack another one. When you get an answer to one of your questions, channel that back into action. The beauty of this process is that you will always know where and how you can make immediate progress. You will also be able to delegate, if given the opportunity, because you will have a precise list of what needs doing. If you've really planned out everything that you need to do, you should have a pretty realistic picture with regard to how things are coming together. If things seem like they're way behind, figure out what the minimum you need to accomplish is. Also, look to see if there are ways to get the work done that may be less ideal, but significantly faster. When I was moving it would have been ideal to pack each box only with items for a certain room. But it was significantly faster for me pack things as they were no longer needed and as they could be fit into boxes. Extra towels in the linen closet became the perfect thing for wrapping extra glassware from the kitchen.

I realize that at this point I've beaten this concept to death. But I really and truly believe in its merits. We DIY'ed just about everything that could be DIY'ed for our wedding. I made my dress. I made the flower girls dresses. My husband made all our signage. We built the website from scratch. We made all of our flowers. We made our favors. We made our centerpieces. We designed our own programs. We made our guestbook. We wrote our own vows. If it could be done, we did it. Additionally, I was out of town for a month working on a show that closed two weeks before my wedding. My husband took off the three days before our wedding so that he can be available to help with last minute stuff. But we were in such great shape that we basically spent that time goofing around. And it was the best way to start our wedding weekend. We were able to just be happy and relaxed before all our family and friends descended. It's possible. And it's so fantastic to step into the hurricane knowing that you're really and truly ready.

Carry that ball forward!

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more the merrier!

Kiss Me Kate Thoughts...

The following was a response I wrote as part of my application to the Charles Abbott Fellowship. It contains some thoughts relating to Kiss Me Kate and the challenges and opportunities of staging a classic American musical.

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The challenge in staging a classic American musical is making it relevant. The opportunity you stand to gain by achieving that is enabling your audience to connect to the show on deeper level. Kiss Me Kate is a great show. It’s got great music and wonderful dance numbers. It’s a show that audiences know and love. It’s a little sexy without being over the top. In short, it’s a classic for a reason. However, it’s definitely from a different era. And while I think it will always be something of a period piece. (Although now, as I think about it, I’m really intrigued by the idea of setting it in modern day Vegas or someplace where gangsters could feasibly show up.)

When I say relevant, I mean that I want the lead characters – the characters who carry the emotional weight of the show - to feel more real. It would be so exciting if you could create the same suspense that a good romantic comedy evokes, where you root for the main couple to get together but you don’t know until the end if they will or not. In a classic musical, where much of your audience has seen a previous production of the show (or can take a guess at the formula the show is based on) it’s certainly difficult to build any “will they or won’t they?” suspense - I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this with a classic musical - but it would be incredibly powerful. I think one of the worst and most human things about love is how completely uncontrollable it is. We don’t control who we love. We can’t will ourselves to stop loving someone. And it’s agonizing to love someone who you believe you shouldn’t love or to love someone who you think doesn’t love you back. I don’t want to just accept that Fred and Lilli end up together. I want to genuinely believe that Fred is the only man who could truly make Lilli happy and vice versa. I want “So In Love” to rip your heart to ribbons. The more the lead characters can be fully human, the more we are willing to forgive them for having beliefs or attitudes that are somewhat archaic. , I would love to see it have more emotional impact. How do you make it more than “nice”, more than just “amusing”? To me, this is Kiss Me Kate’s biggest challenge, and its biggest opportunity.

In watching the 1999 London version of Kiss Me Kate that’s available on YouTube, I was very turned off by the portrayal of the leading female characters, Lilli and Lois. Ultimately, it struck me as a rendering where the women were significantly more flawed than the men. The men seemed to end up on top and managed to maintain a bit more dignity. And while I realize that this is in text of the book and the lyrics, it’s not something that appeals to me. One of the challenges of a classic musical is that you are limited with regard to what you can change. This can become doubly challenging if the piece reflects attitudes or stereotypes that are less acceptable today. Sometimes this can be mitigated by cutting certain numbers or getting permission to modify some of the language. However, with a work like Kiss Me Kate, I don’t see that being the answer. I would be curious to see if the men and women could be rendered as equally flawed by tweaking the casting, interpretation and physicality. I am not interested in one party “taming” the other. I am interested in two evenly matched parties who learn they can’t out battle each other and realize they are very much in love.

For starters, I would love to see Lilli and Fred be the same height. (I would also love to see Howell cast significantly shorter than Lilli or Lois so that 1) he can’t physically dominate either of them and 2) it becomes more apparent that they were both with him because of his powerful position. And I think it could be really funny.) Or at least the same height when Lilli has a heeled shoe on. In this way, they visually become equals and Fred ceases to be someone who can physically dominate Lilli into doing what he wants. I think this could also add to the insecurity that Fred feels around Lilli. In the fight sequences for this show that I’ve seen, Fred and Lilli seem to beat each other up with equal success. However, Lilli has specific lines about how she can’t sit down because Fred has beaten her so severely, a gag that continues to be exploited as the show goes on. I would love to see - within the physicality since it’s not mentioned in the text - that Fred has also sustained some lasting injuries that Lilli is able to periodically exploit.

With regard to the relationship between Lois and Bill, I would love to ramp up the issue of Bill’s gambling. This gets brushed under the rug with a kind of “boys will be boys” shrug. The text says it’s not the first time he’s lost a significant amount of money gambling. It could be that Bill’s debts are part of the reason why Lois needs to see other beaus - because she’s paying for his losses and, rather than live on beans and rice, dates other guys who can pay for her dinner. I wonder if a visual reference to Bill’s gambling could be planted in or around “Always True To You In My Fashion” as a way to link their transgressions - a sort of “you do this thing that you shouldn’t, which makes me do this thing that I shouldn’t”. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to imagine that if Bill were able to hold on to his money, he and Lois might be able to settle down and legitimize their relationship. Additionally, while Lois could just be played as a dumb tart, I think it’s also possible to play her as someone who pretends to be dumb and uses her sexuality in order to get what she wants. While the second option is perhaps a bit darker (and maybe even less comedic) it’s the more interesting interpretation to me.

The flip side of evening out this dynamic for the women, is that it allows the men to also be fully-developed, thinking, feeling characters instead of just caricatures. Love stories are not new. They are one of the most fundamental human narratives. If they are told specifically and allowed the full spectrum of thoughts and feelings that accompany them in real life, they cannot help but draw us in. If not, they become irrelevant and easy to step over on our way to something more interesting.

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more the merrier!

Cabaret

This post is inspired by Roundabout's current (remounted) production of Cabaret, directed by Sam Mendes and starring Alan Cumming and Michelle Williams. Although I was familiar with the music and had a loose notion of the plot, this was the first time I'd ever actually seen a production of this show. This is perhaps the least familiar I've been with a show that I'm posting about, so I'm still very much in "thinking mode" about this one, but here we go...

- Who's story is this?
I'm not sure who's story this is. That seems completely dumb to say, but it's true. I had always assumed that it was Sally's story. Or perhaps Sally and Cliff's story. Maybe that comes from having seen Liza's face associated with it more times than I can count. And I guess it is her story. But to me, the more interesting story is the one between Fräulein Schneider and Herr Schultz. In Fräulein Schneider and Herr Schultz's story you see the rising Nazi sentiment of Berlin destroy the possibility of two people finally being able to share their lives together. In Sally and Cliff's story, the Nazi's presence is almost a sidebar. Due to the way this piece is structured (the effect that the Nazi presence has on the story, the way its presence is revealed and songs like "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" and "If You Could See Her"), it seems like the Nazi sentiment and the way it made cowards and enemies out of neighbors was at least one of the concepts that Kander and Ebb intended to punctuate. Making the story Sally's seems a little asking people to pay attention to the cop who's writing out a parking ticket, while there's also "subplot" revolving around a cop who's engaged in a high-speed car chase. But just because something is more interesting doesn't mean it's where the story is.

- About the sex. 
There are a lot of show numbers with in this musical. Many of the songs are presented as the various acts of the Kit Kat Club. Which is to say, many of the songs in the show do not advance the plot with their lyrics. Rather they tend to act as commentary on the story. Since that connection is not overtly present in the lyrics, I think it's important make sure that the staging and choreography focus on highlighting those parallels. Most of the numbers in this production did that very well, but the few that didn't just kind of passed by as naughty nightclub numbers.

- Sensitivity vs. Survival.
In this story we find two couples - one younger and one older - but both with a sensitive man and a survivalist woman. While the details of these relationships differ, I find it interesting that the need to survive is what ultimately ends them both.

- About Sally
This production paints Sally as a very infantile sort of woman, which, while it may be a valid option, is completely unappealing to me. I think Sally is absolutely the life of the party. But I think being the life of the party is how she's survived living in a very cold and difficult world. She's the life of the party because she her life depends on it. She's made of steel, even if she is unable to ultimately free herself from the destructive patterns of her life. Even in her opening number, "Don't Tell Mama", I think the role-play of playing sweet and innocent is much more exciting if it's played by someone who is actually a strong woman. I mean, it's fun to watch a cat play, but it's much MORE exciting to see a tiger playing. The thrill of danger and power that can be turned on at any point is much more engaging than knowing you've already seen the full extent of what the damage would be. Plus I think letting Sally be a stronger character fits better with "Mein Herr".  I also think this affects how we experience her decision to get an abortion and go back to the Kit Kat Klub at the end of the show. If she's been forged by the necessities of her life and is someone who has had to take care of herself, that strength and determination makes what she does a decision of survival. If she's infantile, it makes it a childish impulse.

- About Cliff.
Bill Heck turns in a great performance as Cliff. However, I think this role ultimately makes more sense with someone who is more of an underdog. Cliff stops working for Ernst and ultimately leaves Berlin as a result of not being able to stomach the rising Nazi sentiment, specifically as it relates to Herr Schultz. I think this kind of response is something that makes the most sense if someone is an outsider, an underdog, someone who's not one of the cool kids. If you're a strapping alpha male, it's easier to bury your head in the sand and stay put, because you can convince yourself that things aren't actually that bad in your life. Ernst still likes him and still has good paying work for him. He's got the girl (who might be pregnant with his child). It's significantly easier to stay put. I think Cliff has to be able to empathize deeply and personally with what Herr Schultz is experiencing, in order to up root everything and run away. I think if Cliff is that underdog, who is well aware of how ugly bulling can get, and he's watching the situation get serious for Herr Schultz, then he knows the only thing he can do to protect Sally is take her and get the hell out of Dodge. I also think you don't want Cliff to ever seem like a viable physical threat to Sally. I think once he becomes a potential physical threat, he's just like every other guy she's ever been with. There were a few moments in this production where Cliff briefly resembled Stanley Kowalski, which I don't think serves the story in any way. I think the tragedy of Cliff is that he's not strong enough to save Sally from herself.

- The MC.
I thought Alan Cumming did a marvelous job balancing both the notion of having fun with his role as host, yet also giving weight to the gravity of the situations. I think that is key for this role - having someone who is fun and unpredictable, but can let the mask drop in the second act. For that reason, I would love to see Christian Borle do this role as I think he does a great job at being able to flip between those two extremes. I also wonder if the MC is a figure that Sally constantly sees. What I mean by that is, in this production, the MC, as our narrator, wafts in and out of scenes - sometimes as commentary, sometimes as set dressing - without the other characters acknowledging him. Which I think is right. But I wonder if there's milage to be gained in Sally being the only one to be aware of him in the scenes outside of the Kit Kat Klub. Frankly, it might just make her look crazy, but I would be interested in trying it.

- The Elephant in the Room.
I love the way Ernst is revealed as being involved with the Nazi party. I think it's incredibly effective and I love that you don't see it coming. However, I wonder if more could be done to build up more of a peripheral Nazi presence before that without diminishing that payoff. At one point Cliff is arguing with Sally about the severity of what is going on with the Nazis and he says something to the effect of "haven't you been paying attention to what's in the papers?!" implying that you would have to be completely obtuse to NOT know how big of a threat this was. But, quite honestly, I didn't have any awareness that Cliff had been paying attention to it to begin with. As an audience member, I know we're in Berlin in the 1930s, but what specifically that means with regard to the cultural saturation of the Nazi party, I don't immediately have a context for. Especially, since no mention of it is made in the show for so long. 

- Maybe This Time.
The song "Maybe This Time" functions sort of like an aside. It pops up right in the middle of a scene an presents us with Sally's inner monologue. In this production, they staged this by pulling Sally downstage in isolated light in front of Cliff. Which is a nice visual and certainly helps us understand that the song is now commenting on the scene. But given that Cliff (and what he's saying) are the emotional impetus for the song, I think it might be stronger to have Sally upstage of him so that she can both sing her nightclub number and still visually reference the reason that she's singing that number.

- Life is a Cabaret.
This song marks Sally's return to the Kit Kat Klub. For this production, they had her dressed in a very simple black sheath dress. This might be the most that her body's been covered for the entire production. I'm not sure this costume choice really serves this moment. While I could see Sally's character justifying to herself that this moment is about taking back the reigns of her life, ultimately it's putting her back in a state of victimhood, at the mercy of the Kit Kat Klub. As such, I think part of the awfulness of returning to the Kit Kat Klub is being forced back into the skimpy outfits and having to perform for any man who happens to be there. (As a side note, I would also like to see her outfits be a little less revealing over the course of her living with Cliff. I understand that she's a person who doesn't really feel the need to cover up. But I think when you're in a relationship that feels safe - and I think she has to allow herself to feel safe and at home to some degree in her relationship with Cliff in order for us to feel any sort of loss when they fall apart - the need to constantly be showing leg or cleavage subsides. Also, given the fact that they reference it being cold enough outside for everyone to need coats, I imagine Cliff's apartment might also be a little chilly.) My other quibble with this moment in the show, was that the end of this song sounded exactly like everyone else I've ever heard sing it. This is the climax of the show and Sally's breaking point. I think the phrasing of that should feel personal.

Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Post them below. The more the merrier!