I Wanna Be in this Hoi Polloi: What I Liked This Week #32
Holding Space for a few musicals
Earlier in the fall, I didn’t have tickets to any theater. I over corrected and ended up with tickets to the most random assortment of shows. Some tickets were gifts, some comps, some I bought, and some I got thru ushering1. Some of the things I saw were good, some were bad, some I loved, some I hated. Here are thoughts on two shows that two different aunts took me to. Plus, and more importantly, Wicked :)
Movies: Wicked
I saw Wicked last Monday night and it is now a week later, and you best believe I have been holding space for it. Honestly, I was so thrilled by the movie that I really wasn’t sure what to say here. But if I want to stay culturally relevant, it’s time to try defying writer’s block.
For the uninitiated, Wicked the movie is based on Stephen Schwartz’s 2003 Broadway musical, which is based on the adult fan fiction novel by Gregory Maguire, which in turn is based on The Wizard of Oz (which is a book, movie and stage musical). A revisionist prequel, it follows Elphaba and Galinda, roomates/nemeses turned besties turned opposing political leaders, on their journey to become the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda the Good, respectively. Along the way they fall in love with ( each other?) the same man, Fiyero, and set in motion the events of The Wizard of Oz. Oh, and in case you didn’t get this from the picture above, Elphaba is green.
Wicked has been capturing the hearts of children everywhere for over 20 years. I saw the touring production when I was in 4th grade and fell in love. I vividly remember making up choreography to ‘One Short Day’ in my bedroom, singing ‘Popular’ around the house, lying in the dark at a sleepover, listening to the cast album on CD2. I thought my official Wicked phase ended when I was about 14, but apparently it’s just been hibernating. And I’m not alone in this; every conversation I had about the holiday break, (with friends/coworkers/etc) was about when people were planning to see Wicked.
Wicked may be the first good movie musical I’ve ever seen on the big screen (Russell Crowe Les Miz I’m looking at you). Beyond the fact that Wicked has a compelling story with good music and director Jon Chu represented this well in the movie, what I liked best boils down to two categories: scale and performances. How thrilling is it to see a big budget, visually exciting fantasy movie that’s also a musical? I’m a lover of the Harry Potter movies (although my opinion of them is ofc tarnished now) for many reasons, but one of them is the intricate sets, and I loved that this also had massive sets. I also loved that the dance numbers were big and buoyant and impressive on a technical level3. They were dancing on massive spinning hamster wheel bookshelves and it was all real! That’s crazy! And don’t get me started on the fact that not only do we not usually see musicals done on this kind of scale, we don’t see stories about female friendship done like this. Needless to say, I was charmed.
Obviously, I liked the performances. Cynthia Erivo’s Elphaba is sweet, shrewd and honestly I cannot understand why any of this stupid college students would be mean to her. Her voice is stunning, but we already knew this. We’ve seen her sing ‘I’m Here.’ Ariana Grande nails Glinda’s coluratura soprano and my god is she funny. Miss Grande is ACTING and she is doing it so very well. Erivo and Grande’s incomprehensible behavior on their press tour is justified now, like I get it and I’ll allow it. And Jonathan Bailey? Oh I am so in love with this man. It makes me sad every day that I didn’t see him in Company in London because I would have latched onto him right then and there and discovered him before everyone did. His Fiyero is debonair, acrobatic, and so so hot. I will count down the days until I get to see him and Erivo sing ‘As Long As You’re Mine’ and in the meantime perhaps I will rewatch Bridgerton s2. Like any reasonable girl. Finally, one special shout out to Bowen Yang as one of Glinda’s friends. This man was in the corner mumbling things like “I gotta go rouge my knees” and “I don’t see color” (again, bc she’s green) and the theater was cackling.
I cannot wait until this movie is streaming so I can selectively re-watch my favorite dance numbers and also confirm that Michelle Yeoh said “dramaturgically” in it and then turn on captions and screenshot her saying “dramaturgically” so I can use it as a header photo on Twitter (or Bluesky I guess?). But while I wait, I’ll be ruining my Spotify Wrapped listening to the album. I expect you’ll be doing the same.
Theater: Swept Away, The Hills of California
Swept Away (Ahoy! Mild spoilers aweigh)
If you were shipwrecked and trapped on a small dinghy with 3 other men with no food and no real hope of rescue, what would you do? Personally, I would fling myself into the sea and let the sharks have me. Or even better, those anti-capitalist killer whales who keep toppling yachts could eat me. I would not want to be consumed by another human person. Nor would I want to consume my fellow man. But idk, maybe I am just built different, maybe this is why Lord of the Flies wouldn’t work with girls.
For better or worse, there isn’t a girl in sight in Swept Away, a new Broadway musical. This is a show about MEN and BOATS SHIPS and what happens when the human mind and body are pushed to their absolute limits. It’s also a jukebox musical featuring the music of The Avett Brothers, primarily off of their album Mignonette. Mignonette was inspired by an English yacht (of the same name) that sunk in the 1880s off the Cape of Good Hope, leaving four crew members stranded in a lifeboat with no food (but one very tasty looking cabin boy). Swept Away is more vibe than plot based, but it follows loosely the same story: a young farmer hoping the see the world sneaks aboard a whaling ship, followed by his older, more responsible brother (in a stroke of inspiration by book writer John Logan, the characters are named Little Brother and Big Brother). On board, Little Brother (Adrian Blake Enscoe) is morally corrupted by the devil-may-care Mate (John Gallagher Jr.), much to devout Big Brother’s (Stark Sands) dislike. However, the social politics of whaling ships are quickly swept away (hah) 45 minutes into the 90 minute show, when a storm destroys the ship and lands the brothers, Mate, and Captain in a small life boat with no provisions. One thing leads to another, and well… a boy’s gotta eat, right?
It’s a strangely paced, dark musical that you likely shouldn’t bring your 11-year-old cousin to4 (my 17-year-old cousin noted that I was the youngest person there beyond them and the aforementioned 11 y/o). I can’t say that I particularly liked the book — it was bleak and short and the songs only sort of fit into the story. It was also too religious for my taste (the one new song written for the show is called ‘Lord Lay Your Hand on my Shoulder’ and there’s a lot of talk about “getting clean”), but I’m a heathen and a hater, so it’s possible this worked for other people. It’s so rare that I actually want a musical to be longer, to have more exposition, but that was the case with Swept Away. Especially with the characterization of Mate, who for the first half of the show is a bad influence but affable and charming, and then on the rowboat gives a monologue about how he’s an evil racist, which was largely just upsetting and didn’t match his charcter. And don’t get me started on the fact that the character is supposed to be from Vermont but John Gallagher Jr. (who is otherwise quite good) is doing the most insane southern-ish accent.
That’s not to say Swept Away is a bad musical. The folk/bluegrass score is pleasant, sea shanty-y, and caters well to dads who like banjo and aunts who like stories about boats ships. It’s also sung quite nicely by the cast, particularly Enscoe. Enscoe, (previously the very obnoxious Austin on Dickinson) is the clear heart of the show, the ingenue, and they’ve got a lovely voice to fit the bill. Gallagher and Sands are also good performers, singing nicely and doing their best with the little or incongruous characterization they’re given. But beyond the music, Swept Away’s main attraction is the set. In perhaps her best work since Hadestown, designer Rachel Hauck’s hulking half of a ship would be impressive and visually interesting enough without the scenic transition to the much smaller lifeboat. I won’t spoil how the change works, but I’ll note that I particularly liked that they piped wind through the theater during the storm/as the set changed. It’s a veryyy bold directorial choice to stage the entire second half of the show on a 2.5 x 10ft (ish) life boat and it’s a little frustrating, but it largely works, because the boat spins. Goodbye turntables we are doing turnboats now!
All in all, Swept Away was a weird one and not fully to my taste, but it’s nice to see weird shows on Broadway. And if it makes the bluegrass lovers, ship-lit fans, and Judd Apatow (in the audience in front of us) happy, I can’t complain too much. Just probably don’t bring children.
The Hills of California
As I’ve seen this absolute mass of good, bad and so-so plays, I’ve been thinking a lot about stories that feel predictable and inevitable. I always want to be surprised by theater, but I don’t necessarily mind a predictable story if the storytellers can sell it well, and if the emotion and execution and direction feel truthful or unique.
Jez Butterworth’s newest family epic, The Hills of California, is certainly singing a familiar song, one about motherhood and sisterhood and the lasting impact of trauma, but it’s gripping nonetheless. We spend 3 hours with the four Webb sisters (and their mother), flipping back and forth between snapshots of their lives in 1955 and 1976. In 1976 (the time we start in), three of the sisters have gathered to say goodbye to their mother, who is on her death bed. They don’t know if the 4th and eldest, Joan will show up — as far as they know, she lives a glamorous life in America, and it’s up for debate whether she’s spared them a thought in years. In 1955, the four sisters are barely teenagers, desperately eager to impress their mother and the guests at the hotel she runs. If that means spending their free time learning jump blues numbers so that they can be the British version (despite the title, the play takes place in Blackpool) of the Andrews Sisters, then so be it.
While its the compelling sister dynamic that drives The Hills of California, it’s also almost a ghost story or a mystery. The women in 1976 are haunted by their past (and their mother), and over the course of the very long play, we find out exactly why, what went wrong in 1955. It’s a testament to Butterworth’s script, Sam Mendes’ direction, and the women’s performances that the play flew by, and that I actually would have happily spent longer with the characters. Like in Swept Away, I was left character questions — namely why the mother wanted her daughters to perform. What happened to her? Was this her dream? Or had she simply pulled an Uncle Max from The Sound of Music and realized that when you have a number of talented singing children, you must monetize it.
However, unlike Swept Away, and despite the exposition gaps, I immediately knew who the sisters and their mother were. Jillian’s the baby, the caretaker, the virgin, Ruby’s the sweet one, eager in her own way, Gloria has been forced into the role of protector after Joan left5. And their mother and Joan? They’re ambitious and very very angry. Butterworth’s partner Laura Donnelly plays both the elder version of Joan and the mother, and you can tell he’s written this play to let her shine. I don’t know if she’s his muse, or he’s Sam Mendes’ muse, or both, but it’s a perfect trio (this is their second production together). As the mother, Donnelly is hard and mean and loving, beautifully portraying a moment where she fails her eldest child. And as Joan, she’s gritty and grungy, doing her best Stockard Channing impression, which might be distracting for a moment, but eventually gives way to something raw and moving. The other sisters are good too, particularly Ophelia Lovibond (Ruby), who has a beautiful Judy Garland-esque voice and is doing some stellar Eye Acting.
Between the crumbling seaside hotel setting and the time hopping, I almost wanted the show to be a novel. However, because of the music throughout, and perhaps because of the unseen dying mother on the second floor in 1976, The Hills of California demands to be a play. It’s a brilliant play on its own, and also feels like a companion to Branden Jacobs-Jenkins’ Appropriate in certain ways - there’s a similar gothic element of the horrors or beast upstairs (Though Appropriate deals with race and racism in a way Butterworth fails to — it’s fine he’s staying in his lane).
Although the big reveal of The Hills of California isn’t so shocking, it’s still devastating. Despite my wariness of family plays, of plays written by middle aged men, and of plays following existing tropes, I really liked it. It’s proof that when a play written well, it is good, and more importantly, when it’s a play with music and ghosts and time hopping and mother-daugther relationships (a la my college thesis), I’ll be right in my comfort zone.
“Good news!” That’s all! “Life is fraughtless when you’re thoughtless,” but I’ve been typing up a storm on airplanes this week so expect many more thoughts to come, on King Lear and other shows, plus perhaps a list of ranked movie musicals if I decide it’s worth sharing.
For math nerds: I saw 13 shows in Sept-Nov for a total of $127, which averages out to $9.76 per show. My average for the year is under $6/show, which is a BIG SLAY if u ask me.
Yes, these are all things I still (would) do, except I don’t have a CD player in this day and age.
Side note - I liked the choreography in this but why is so much of the choreo in both this and the Matilda musical movie involve syncopated stomping? Can you not do other things with your bodies in Great Britain? Must you stomp?
For the record, it is not my fault that she saw the show!!! And she covered her eyes during the ********!
Thank GOD they all have actual names instead of Big Sister, Middle Sister, Middle Sister 2, and Little Sister