January 19, 2023
Eating Vegan in Kyiv: Decent Food Around Town as Veganism Growsby Randi / May 2, 2018
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about “The Ferryman”, currently in the West End until May 19. It is transferring to Broadway in the fall so get your tickets!
I know I tend to be extremely critical of what is in truth fairly decent theatre in London (I take my lead from the basketball coach in “Love & Basketball” (“you think I’d go hoarse for a player with no potential?” = how I live my life)). And while I’ll stand by my affirmation that British musical theatre is in an abysmal state, they do know how to do dramatic plays here. One of the most exciting British playwrights is Jez Butterworth (actual name), and every time he premieres a new play everyone on both sides of the Atlantic goes oh boy in a good way. His play “Jerusalem” won Mark Rylance another Tony and people raved about it even though I have approximately zero idea what was happening on that stage aside from Mark doing a keg stand at one point I think? I skipped Hugh Jackman in “The River” because early reports said he pretty much sits on a log and de-bones a fish for the 2 hours and as fascinating as that shit sounds my attentions were better diverted elsewhere. Luckily, third time appears to be the charm for me and dear old Jez (who I just learned wrote “Spectre” and “Edge of Tomorrow”?? way to get those Hollywood bones Jezzy!) because his newest work “The Ferryman” is astonishing.
I know I tend to be extremely critical of what is in truth fairly decent theatre in London (I take my lead from the basketball coach in “Love & Basketball” (“you think I’d go hoarse for a player with no potential?” = how I live my life)). And while I’ll stand by my affirmation that British musical theatre is in an abysmal state, they do know how to do dramatic plays here. One of the most exciting British playwrights is Jez Butterworth (actual name), and every time he premieres a new play everyone on both sides of the Atlantic goes oh boy in a good way. His play “Jerusalem” won Mark Rylance another Tony and people raved about it even though I have approximately zero idea what was happening on that stage aside from Mark doing a keg stand at one point I think? I skipped Hugh Jackman in “The River” because early reports said he pretty much sits on a log and de-bones a fish for the 2 hours and as fascinating as that shit sounds my attentions were better diverted elsewhere. Luckily, third time appears to be the charm for me and dear old Jez (who I just learned wrote “Spectre” and “Edge of Tomorrow”?? way to get those Hollywood bones Jezzy!) because his newest work “The Ferryman” is astonishing.
Despite Jezzington’s being English, this play about Ireland and the IRA in the 1980s feels as authentic and real and accurate as any play has. For those of you who are like ‘eh what’s the difference’ NO it’s a very big deal and this play tells you why. Granted I’m not exactly the foremost living expert on the subject and literally knew as little as possible about this history while not living under a rock before seeing the show, as I am neither British nor of the 99% of Americans claiming to have Irish blood. But everything I needed to know was effectively communicated by Jezathon’s pitch-perfect dialogue and Sam Mendes’s precise direction, fully transporting me to this other world and filling in any gaps. I had no doubts or questions of ‘why is this happening’ or ‘what does that mean’; everything is accounted for or if not it doesn’t matter because you trust that it will come. The whole feel of the play was masterful. Its three acts weave personal and public stories together in a compelling way, and once it ends (with a roar) you realize everything comes together in an even more extraordinary way.
“The Ferryman” tells the story of the Carney family in northern Ireland during the Troubles, when the Irish Republican Army was getting more and more violent and they ‘disappeared’ nonconformists and fighters were dying of hunger strikes and generally everything was a bit terrifying for mostly everyone, as is normally the case during times of war and/or struggle. The Carneys are a large clan with more and more children seeming to come out of the baseboards as the story begins, including an actual baby. When one of the teenage kids comes down the stairs (really steep really long stairs, mind you, and I was like omg don’t fall don’t fall omg don’t) holding the real infant and not a doll or a wrapped up melon like plays usually use, the audience gasped like they had never seen a baby before. I mean I get it, it is noteworthy and look I am talking about it still, but man alive. The audience similarly gasps and shrieks when live rabbits and geese appear onstage (I do not approve of using animals for your art because most of the time it is unnecessary and here it also adds nothing but at least they treat the animals well? ughhh stop it though).
We meet the apparent heads of the family, Quinn (Owen McDonnell) and Caitlin (Rosalie Craig), in the wee small hours, having a grand time (they do say grand a lot too, these Irish) as everyone else (children, cousins, ancient great aunts and uncles) sleeps. When it is revealed through casual dialogue in a later scene that Caitlin is actually Quinn’s sister-in-law, and he’s really married to a different woman named Mary (we had an understudy and she did not make an impression, although the character doesn’t have much to go for her anyway), the realization is even more dramatic than the one for ‘oh shit that’s a real baby!’ It’s one small example of how the meticulous direction and writing makes everything seem momentous and yet realistic at the same time. Caitlin married Quinn’s brother Seamus decades prior, and they had a son who is now a teenager. But 10 years ago, Seamus went missing, and ever since then Caitlin and her son have been living with Quinn and his family and the extended fam in a situation ripe for drama, not the least of which is that Caitlin and Quinn have been falling in love with each other.
Their world is shaken when news arrives that Seamus’s body had finally been found, putting to rest any doubts about whether he had run off or had been taken out as well as any hopes of his return. Considering how long they’ve lived without him, it shouldn’t have been too difficult to adjust to the truth, especially since many assumed he was dead from the start. But it’s undeniable now that his death was linked to the IRA, and not for Seamus’s own doings but for his brother’s, and so the whole family is in jeopardy until the Mafioso-like boss man is satisfied that the family will stay quiet about it all. Meanwhile, it’s time for the men to bring in the annual harvest and celebrate it, so they invite their cousins in to help with the work and the food-filled celebration, all while we hear of the freedom fighters dying of hunger strikes. The family lives, like everyone does, in whatever protective bubble they can form, but as always the outside world bursts it eventually.
The arrival of the tough male cousins for the harvest brings even more issues, as they are much more politically oriented and eager to join the IRA. Their younger cousins are susceptible to their big ideas, especially Caitlin’s son Oisin (Laurie Kynaston who pretty much shook the entire time to convey how f-ed he was), and their conversations about the fight and what needs to be sacrificed for freedom were stressful beyond belief. The line between what’s necessary for freedom and what should never be asked of someone has never been dramatized so well by simply having young men talk out their asses, as they do. The acting in these scenes from Francis Mezza and Terence Keeley had my blood pressure up so high, like dangerously high, so they must have done a really good job. Fortunately these scenes, of all the male cousins, have the best comic relief. There’s the youngest of the visiting cousins who curbs his constant drinking (as everyone onstage is indeed constantly drinking; they are Irish) with “Well, as they say, there’s only so much whiskey a 13-year-old boy can drink.” And then there’s my favorite line in the whole show, when one of them tells the joke: “You know how you know The Elephant Man was a Protestant? Because he looked like a feckin’ Protestant.” Oh my god it’s my new favorite joke.
Even with all these child actors (who are notoriously weak save for Sydney Lucas), I can’t think of one false note from this cast. I was nervous because we saw the replacement cast, as I was stupid and didn’t really care to see the show when it first premiered because I had musicals to see baby! So we missed out on the great Paddy Considine and Laura Donnelly as Quinn and Caitlin. Laura won the Olivier for this role and – more importantly – appears from my research to be the g-d inspiration for the play, as her uncle was disappeared by the IRA when she was a baby and Jezzothy was like hey partner-at-the-time-is-it-gonna-be-weird-when-we-make-this-play-and-we’re-no-longer-together, that’s sounds like a good idea for a play! Feck, as they say. But I honestly can’t imagine the original cast being any better. I had no idea that Rosalie Craig, who I really like, was going to be in it, so I was excited and my high expectations were exceeded beyond measure. Everyone was fantastic, not least Justin Edwards as Tom Kettle, the slow Englishman who the Carney family helps and treats as family despite all the republicans despising every last English person and wanting to get rid of him simply for his heritage. His Tom pulled at all the heartstrings but good, even though I think the large-and-dim-witted-but-good-hearted-man-who-will-face-tragedy-by-play’s-end trope has been overused in theatre.
Given how much happens and how much we learn about so many characters, it’s surprising that it’s only three hours. The fact that I’m using the word ‘only’ to describe a play that’s longer than my two faves of this season (The Band’s Visit and Once On This Island) PUT TOGETHER and that has only one interval so I had to pee distractingly badly says a lot about how well done it all is. I can’t think of a better written play I have seen over here, honestly. The layers of interpretation and meaning in the writing never seem to reach an endpoint. So much symbolism abounds and so much links the different generations. The title refers to the mythological ferryman, Charon, of the river Styx who collects the souls of the newly dead and brings them from our world to the other, except for those souls from bodies left unburied (like Seamus) who have to wander the shores for 100 years. The darkness of this reference adds even further shadow to this story. The thwarted love between Caitlin and Quinn mirrors the sadness of their own relatives, with both great aunts telling the children the tales of their lost loves. One of those aunts, the best one, named I shit you not Aunt Maggie Far Away (because her dementia brings her to far away places when she isn’t present), recounts at one point her siblings’ dealings with the IRA when they were younger, and how when those interactions came to a head she saw banshees, endless scores of them, on their farm. When she screams at the end that she sees them again, coming to this farm, and that everything mentioned earlier has come full circle as history always does, you realize that Jezzbury does full circle endings better than Amy Sherman-Palladino could ever dream. And that ending, man alive (or not, as it is). I will break my normal rule of spoiling whatever I write about since this one is coming to Broadway next season and I don’t want to ruin anything, so I’ll just suggest that you gird your loins.
“The Ferryman” tells the story of the Carney family in northern Ireland during the Troubles, when the Irish Republican Army was getting more and more violent and they ‘disappeared’ nonconformists and fighters were dying of hunger strikes and generally everything was a bit terrifying for mostly everyone, as is normally the case during times of war and/or struggle. The Carneys are a large clan with more and more children seeming to come out of the baseboards as the story begins, including an actual baby. When one of the teenage kids comes down the stairs (really steep really long stairs, mind you, and I was like omg don’t fall don’t fall omg don’t) holding the real infant and not a doll or a wrapped up melon like plays usually use, the audience gasped like they had never seen a baby before. I mean I get it, it is noteworthy and look I am talking about it still, but man alive. The audience similarly gasps and shrieks when live rabbits and geese appear onstage (I do not approve of using animals for your art because most of the time it is unnecessary and here it also adds nothing but at least they treat the animals well? ughhh stop it though).
We meet the apparent heads of the family, Quinn (Owen McDonnell) and Caitlin (Rosalie Craig), in the wee small hours, having a grand time (they do say grand a lot too, these Irish) as everyone else (children, cousins, ancient great aunts and uncles) sleeps. When it is revealed through casual dialogue in a later scene that Caitlin is actually Quinn’s sister-in-law, and he’s really married to a different woman named Mary (we had an understudy and she did not make an impression, although the character doesn’t have much to go for her anyway), the realization is even more dramatic than the one for ‘oh shit that’s a real baby!’ It’s one small example of how the meticulous direction and writing makes everything seem momentous and yet realistic at the same time. Caitlin married Quinn’s brother Seamus decades prior, and they had a son who is now a teenager. But 10 years ago, Seamus went missing, and ever since then Caitlin and her son have been living with Quinn and his family and the extended fam in a situation ripe for drama, not the least of which is that Caitlin and Quinn have been falling in love with each other.
Their world is shaken when news arrives that Seamus’s body had finally been found, putting to rest any doubts about whether he had run off or had been taken out as well as any hopes of his return. Considering how long they’ve lived without him, it shouldn’t have been too difficult to adjust to the truth, especially since many assumed he was dead from the start. But it’s undeniable now that his death was linked to the IRA, and not for Seamus’s own doings but for his brother’s, and so the whole family is in jeopardy until the Mafioso-like boss man is satisfied that the family will stay quiet about it all. Meanwhile, it’s time for the men to bring in the annual harvest and celebrate it, so they invite their cousins in to help with the work and the food-filled celebration, all while we hear of the freedom fighters dying of hunger strikes. The family lives, like everyone does, in whatever protective bubble they can form, but as always the outside world bursts it eventually.
The arrival of the tough male cousins for the harvest brings even more issues, as they are much more politically oriented and eager to join the IRA. Their younger cousins are susceptible to their big ideas, especially Caitlin’s son Oisin (Laurie Kynaston who pretty much shook the entire time to convey how f-ed he was), and their conversations about the fight and what needs to be sacrificed for freedom were stressful beyond belief. The line between what’s necessary for freedom and what should never be asked of someone has never been dramatized so well by simply having young men talk out their asses, as they do. The acting in these scenes from Francis Mezza and Terence Keeley had my blood pressure up so high, like dangerously high, so they must have done a really good job. Fortunately these scenes, of all the male cousins, have the best comic relief. There’s the youngest of the visiting cousins who curbs his constant drinking (as everyone onstage is indeed constantly drinking; they are Irish) with “Well, as they say, there’s only so much whiskey a 13-year-old boy can drink.” And then there’s my favorite line in the whole show, when one of them tells the joke: “You know how you know The Elephant Man was a Protestant? Because he looked like a feckin’ Protestant.” Oh my god it’s my new favorite joke.
Even with all these child actors (who are notoriously weak save for Sydney Lucas), I can’t think of one false note from this cast. I was nervous because we saw the replacement cast, as I was stupid and didn’t really care to see the show when it first premiered because I had musicals to see baby! So we missed out on the great Paddy Considine and Laura Donnelly as Quinn and Caitlin. Laura won the Olivier for this role and – more importantly – appears from my research to be the g-d inspiration for the play, as her uncle was disappeared by the IRA when she was a baby and Jezzothy was like hey partner-at-the-time-is-it-gonna-be-weird-when-we-make-this-play-and-we’re-no-longer-together, that’s sounds like a good idea for a play! Feck, as they say. But I honestly can’t imagine the original cast being any better. I had no idea that Rosalie Craig, who I really like, was going to be in it, so I was excited and my high expectations were exceeded beyond measure. Everyone was fantastic, not least Justin Edwards as Tom Kettle, the slow Englishman who the Carney family helps and treats as family despite all the republicans despising every last English person and wanting to get rid of him simply for his heritage. His Tom pulled at all the heartstrings but good, even though I think the large-and-dim-witted-but-good-hearted-man-who-will-face-tragedy-by-play’s-end trope has been overused in theatre.
Given how much happens and how much we learn about so many characters, it’s surprising that it’s only three hours. The fact that I’m using the word ‘only’ to describe a play that’s longer than my two faves of this season (The Band’s Visit and Once On This Island) PUT TOGETHER and that has only one interval so I had to pee distractingly badly says a lot about how well done it all is. I can’t think of a better written play I have seen over here, honestly. The layers of interpretation and meaning in the writing never seem to reach an endpoint. So much symbolism abounds and so much links the different generations. The title refers to the mythological ferryman, Charon, of the river Styx who collects the souls of the newly dead and brings them from our world to the other, except for those souls from bodies left unburied (like Seamus) who have to wander the shores for 100 years. The darkness of this reference adds even further shadow to this story. The thwarted love between Caitlin and Quinn mirrors the sadness of their own relatives, with both great aunts telling the children the tales of their lost loves. One of those aunts, the best one, named I shit you not Aunt Maggie Far Away (because her dementia brings her to far away places when she isn’t present), recounts at one point her siblings’ dealings with the IRA when they were younger, and how when those interactions came to a head she saw banshees, endless scores of them, on their farm. When she screams at the end that she sees them again, coming to this farm, and that everything mentioned earlier has come full circle as history always does, you realize that Jezzbury does full circle endings better than Amy Sherman-Palladino could ever dream. And that ending, man alive (or not, as it is). I will break my normal rule of spoiling whatever I write about since this one is coming to Broadway next season and I don’t want to ruin anything, so I’ll just suggest that you gird your loins.
INFORMATION
“The Ferryman” is playing at London’s Gielgud Theatre until May 19. There is one interval after just under one hour, which means you have to go two more hours without a bathroom break, unless you are the lady in front of me who positively SPRINTED during the 2-minute ‘pause’ between Acts II and III and made it back just as the lights were dimming again so needless to say I have a new hero. I enjoyed my seat on the stage left aisle in the front of the stalls, but be warned that the Gielgud, like the vast majority of London theatres, is a POS when it comes to design so the only bathrooms for the stalls are literally in the back of the stalls, and getting to them if you aren’t in the back is like a Tough Mudder course. Also, there are only 3 stalls. For the whole of the orchestra level. Someone needs to shut down all of the West End and refurbish these theatres until they make one iota of goddamn sense.
AUDIENCE
The audience was fine as far as phones go, decent as far as whispering goes, and horrible as far as being so sick that they should have gone to hospital instead of the theatre goes. Blech.
BEST PART
It’s five minutes’ walk from Yorica, the vegan ice cream salon, so yay because after the play ends and you are like ‘oh my god oh my god what the feck the previous three hours of my life and the previous hundred years of UK history is now falling on top of me and crushing me metaphorically but it all feels so real because well it is real and oh shit is it all going to happen again because of Brexit and what did humans do to this world and ahhhhhh’, you can go get ice cream and you really should because it helps.
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It’s a Mad Mad Mad “Mad House” with Bill Pullman and David Harbour
One of the most infuriating shows I’ve ever seen ends this weekend, so be sure to catch it but take your anti-anxiety pills first! Or just walk open-mouthed first through Goodman Fields; it’s basically a fishbowl!
Theresa Rebeck REALLY knows how to get my blood pressure up! With those annoying English major vibes in ‘Seminar’, those darn stamps in ‘Mauritius’, that insane idea that Katharine McPhee would ever be a serious contender to play Marilyn Monroe in ‘Smash’, boy oh boy is she the master of making me feel like Larry David! In ‘Mad House’, it’s her biggest success yet, at least according to my vitals. And, amazingly, the anxiety I suffered was not just because leading-man-in-movies-I-grew-up-on Bill Pullman is now playing the FATHER of men who are OLDER THAN ME. Time, what is it!
Bill Pullman plays the piece of shite father of David Harbour, a man who I always assumed was about the same age as Bill but I guess ‘Sleepless in Seattle’ was longer ago than I thought. Bill as this father is a really really bad man, so you aren’t too sad that the action is about how he’s dying. He’s ungrateful to his son who is only trying to care for him as he dies, his son who feels things too strongly and has suffered with mental illness and forced treatments in the past for, ostensibly, seeing the world as it really is. Literally David’s entire life is caring for his father, as he has nothing else going on, but his father and siblings just brush him aside for being crazy and worthless and it’s INFURIATING.
As we meet David and Bill (character names here would just confuse you, right), a new home nurse for Bill is arriving. Her name is Lillian, and she is Black, so you know your anxiety is probably going to rise even more because it’s obvious that most of this Pennsylvania family is the reason the commonwealth isn’t safely blue. Lillian is so good, played by Akiya Henry, a necessary relief of a calming presence without getting too close to the (very popular lately especially for therapist characters!) trope of the Black woman magically there to solve the lead white characters’ problems. Her too tragic backstory made her easy to connect with and care for, which this show needed since everyone else makes you want to scream.
That ‘everyone else’ being David’s rich prick of a brother Nedward and his beyond monstrous sister Pam. They show up to determine who gets the big house when Bill dies, and like, they are very obvious about it. Bill knows that’s why they’re there, David knows, everyone knows and these two bellends are just fighting about how to make sure David doesn’t get anything, because he’s crazy (he’s not) (really) and they are so unbelievably greedy and unfeeling that it’s often hard to reconcile them with any semblance of real human beings. They talk openly about how to finagle things so they can get David committed again, like they did before, and my god, the impotent frustration of having other people able to do such things and decide you’re insane to the point that you don’t have agency over your own life or ability to show emotions is SO UNFAIR, the system is really so broken.
David’s deceased mother’s assessment of him – that he’s full of anger because he sees how the world really is – REALLY RESONATED with me, especially as we see more and more that his siblings, mainly his sister, have zero zero zeroooo redeeming qualities. Pam, in particular, has no arc, she is just a straight line that falls off a cliff at the end (in terms of visualizing the line being graphed; she doesn’t actually fall off a cliff, though I would happily eagerly excitedly push her off one). She is honestly the worst human I’ve ever seen depicted onstage. I feel like even Mitch McConnell has more redeeming qualities, which is saying a lot since he is the devil’s stomach cancer. Like he might poke his little turtle head out of his little shit-stained turtle shell and watch this play and be like, ‘fuck this bitch SUCKS’. She really does.
Nedward, the brother, is potentially? maybe? is this true? even worse because he’s a coward who seems to sometimes know the difference between right and wrong and care about that difference (unlike his sister), but he won’t stand up and do anything about it. And isn’t KNOWING BETTER but not ACTING BETTER even though you are ABLE TO the worst of all? Ned is Switzerland (and no, Switzerland wasn’t ‘neutral’ and if you still believe those lies you probably need to take a grown-up history class).
Bill, in the end, thankfully shows tiny little hamster-ball-sized (I just rewatched ‘The Heat’) signs of redemption at the end, unlike his POS daughter, which you’re like ‘thank f-ing GOD’ about because it’s hard to just hate and hate and hate so many people, it’s EXHAUSTING, please VOTE IN NOVEMBER. He was very convincing, and good I guess, but I just cannot accept that we are at the stage in this timeline where BILL PULLMAN is playing the father of a man older than I am. I mean, Bill Pullman. our romcom lovable doof! Sleepless! While You Were Sleeping! His being allergic to everything aged him (no they made him act and look suuuupes older than he actually is (I think/hope) so at least we have that to relieve our anxiety).
I’ve never identified more with a character than with David Harbour’s VERY angry, screamy, frustrated beyond belief with the state of humanity Michael (oh I guess I do remember his character’s name! a miracle), who he portrayed very well mainly by being David Harbour, who is just magnetic on the stage. Everyone thinks he’s insane because he gets loud and angry but he’s usually completely justified! Everyone around him is a piece of shit! His two siblings just want to lock him up so they can sell the house and split the profits in half instead of in thirds. They are literally garbage MONSTER people, so greedy and evil that they will commit someone to a (from the sounds of it, not fun uh TALL!) mental institution where he will continue to be gaslit. Sure he’s not perfect and he could use anger management classes but that’s not the same as needing to be involuntarily COMMITTED because he sees how f-ing horrible his family is! This f-ing sister kept his dying mother from seeing her favorite son one last time just because she was jealous that he was the favorite! OF COURSE SHE LOVED HIM MORE THAN YOU YOU ARE A PIECE OF SHIT YOU BLOOD-SUCKING MONSTER.
The evilness of the sister was so outrageous – and eventually so without any comeuppance or reprisal or remorse or any consequences or reckoning – that ultimately it was unsatisfying. Just too much frustration. I really actually thought/hoped that Michael might end up killing her. (There’s mention in the beginning of guns; Daniel says he suspects Michael has guns (it IS rural PA after all (also Ned at one point says Pennsylvan-eee-ya which is when I realized the actor wasn’t actually American (also dropped a ‘the’ before saying hospital) so otherwise he did a bang-up job (I think that is British for good), otherwise great accent work))) and Michael denies it, and I thought that that would come back in the end to show he actually DOES have guns, but he doesn’t and it didn’t, because as husband sadly said to me after, ‘the Chekhov play was LAST night.’
INFORMATION
As with most West End theatres, the facilities are a joke, with 3 ladies toilets for the upstairs (unsure of the downstairs sitch, wouldn’t be surprised if this was the only toilet for the whole theatre) and nooo room to stand anywhere on any level. L6, in the last row in house (the only circle) is IN THE AISLE so no one is in front of you and you have a clear runway to the bathroom, it’s just a splendid seat (although the people in the 5 person row with us had clearly only been to the panto before because they acted like this was the muhfucking children’s section – singing along when David sang Danny Boy???? saying “MMM HMMM” when the only black actor on the stage made a good point? total yikes, white boy.)
Also 6 pounds for programs. Y’all need Playbill over here yesterday.
Audra McDonald in “Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar & Grill”: A Once In A Lifetime Performance
The minute the unmatched Audra McDonald opens her mouth onstage, you are transported back 50 years. You’re no longer watching the greatest living musical talent of our time but the great pioneering musician of the past, Billie Holiday. You’re in Emerson’s Bar & Grill, one of Billie’s favorite places to perform in Philadelphia, recreated on Broadway in an intimate space in the Circle in the Square theatre. And everyone around is gasping.
This isn’t an imitation happening onstage, but a full transformation and embodiment of Lady Day, from the mannerisms to the stance to the way she moves her eyes. It’s magic happening in front of you as Audra channels Billie Holiday. Seriously, everyone was gasping and pretty much didn’t stop (at least the people next to me didn’t stop, despite my repeatedly throwing shade).
This isn’t an imitation happening onstage, but a full transformation and embodiment of Lady Day, from the mannerisms to the stance to the way she moves her eyes. It’s magic happening in front of you as Audra channels Billie Holiday. Seriously, everyone was gasping and pretty much didn’t stop (at least the people next to me didn’t stop, despite my repeatedly throwing shade).
Holy bald head Batman
If you’re a fan of Holiday (“Do you like Billie Holiday?” “I love him”), this show will astound you and leave you breathless. But even if you are unfamiliar with her wonderful catalogue (including such gems as “What A Little Moonlight Can Do”, “When A Woman Loves A Man”, “Tain’t Nobody’s Biz-ness”, and of course the unmatched and haunting “God Bless The Child” and “Strange Fruit”, all of which are performed to perfection here), you will leave the show wanting to become a Billie Holiday fan.
In between the many songs, which are so astonishing it’s like you could say you actually saw Billie Holiday in concert, Audra tells her concert audience (“my friends”, she calls us) little stories that illustrate her life. This is where the real magic happens, and this is where Audra wins her sixth Tony. Some stories are hilarious yet they all express the untold heartache she has had to experience. She speaks and stumbles and falls and it’s Billie Holiday. She drinks, smokes, walks through the table seating, wanders offstage for several minutes to retrieve her dog, who’s her best friend. She holds back tears, and the audience does too. It’s all Billie.
The stories she tells come up organically between songs and are perfect glimpses into Billie’s turbulent life. She looks back at her backup musicians and drifts off in thought about her old love, a musician who was a drug addict (she says “herwan” and it’s adorable). She tells how the man would say to her, “If you really loved me you’d try it too,” and despite her protests, he kept at it, making her feel unnecessarily guilty and terrible until she couldn’t argue anymore. Her stories are full of people she thought she loved weakening her and manipulating her until they hurt her and took advantage of her. Yet she was still strong. And despite Audra’s hunched posture, wild eyes, and frightening imbalance, she successfully conveyed this inner strength.
The stories about her mother were the most heartbreaking parts. Everyone called her tiny mother “The Duchess”, and Billie makes lots of jokes about how little the Duchess was and how big she herself was. The Duchess had Billie as a very young teenager and put her to work early in various kinds of houses they stayed in. Billie recounts ‘the first time’ she was raped as a young child in one of these houses, told in a tone so casual it showed how accustomed to trauma and tragedy she had become.
One of the most repeated thoughts she shares is that she always wanted a nice house and children, and how much she loved children. She never had any, or had any stability in her life. The beauty of the performance helps to balance just how sad everything is. It’s really a fool’s errand to try to describe how wonderful this show is. If you can get to New York before it closes in August, you absolutely must see this performance of a lifetime. If you can’t, watch the clip below. (Don’t watch it if there’s any chance you can see the show. You don’t want to be spoiled.)
And if somehow you’ve lived under a rock until today and you have never heard the magic that is Audra McDonald’s singing and you think the “Lady Day” producers just found a woman who sounded like Billie Holiday, here’s a video of her actual voice.
