Monday, November 26, 2012

The Sacred and the Profane

Before Thanksgiving, I had the great privilege of seeing two fantastic yet drastically different pieces of theater.  Fortuitously (for this blog) they both dealt with the themes of faith, losing faith, and using humor to battle such a crisis.  This got me thinking, naturally, about what role spirituality does play in the world of theater currently.  Now, make no mistake, theater is a secular community, and that is how it should be.  Theater does not exist to tell inspiring stories about faith overcoming obstacles (although it certainly can do that.) Few people today would claim that it does. What theater does exist to do, in my opinion, is serve as some representation of the lived human experience.  This can be on a wonderfully exaggerated, riotous and obnoxious level, such as in The Book of Mormon, or a much smaller, intimate, and quietly tragic level, such as in Deanna Jent's Falling.

Falling, now playing Off-Broadway at the Minetta Lane Theater, is the story of a mother's search for the best manner of loving her severally autistic son, Josh.  Josh, now a grown man, still obsesses over The Jungle Book and puzzles.  More than anything, he enjoys watching feathers fall to the ground out of a box on a shelf.  When his estranged grandmother comes to visit for the first time in years, she cannot abide his inability to obey requests, his violent outbursts of anger, and his tendency to masturbate in public.  Like so much of society, she can only go so far with feeling sympathy for Josh, but then he crosses a line and she writes him off.  The mother, as she so beautifully and simply explains, doesn't have a choice.  "A mother just loves her child."  The play takes us through a rather turbulent family dinner, in which Josh attacks his mother, their other child threatens to move out, and the two parents realize their marriage is going less than well.  There is a constant push-and-pull between ideas of divine power and the ineffectiveness of prayer.  The characters in the play are not atheists  but they are removed from their church, something that upsets the grandmother deeply.  When the grandmother suggests that they should pray for a cure, because anything is possible, the father reacts with one of my favorite lines of the play.  "God said no to that prayer a long time ago.  Pray she gets accepted into a group home.  Pray that our marriage doesn't fall apart.  Pray for that." There are some things in the play that do not work, such as the rather strange "dream sequence" which isn't quite explained.  The mother has a fantasy in which Josh dies, but she thinks its real.  Was she sleeping? Was it a daydream? Why was she so convinced it happened?  I understood the function, but not the structure.
 
Some of the acting is less than magnificent, but all the actors are competent. Daniel Everidge as Josh brings the performance to the level of the sublime.  Aside from the meticulous research he underwent in order to convincingly portray an autistic man, (so much so that I wondered if the actor was disabled)  he went the extra level to make Josh a human being.  This was not a "sweet and lovable" disabled child the fills you with sympathy and love.  This was a human being who was frustrating, volatile, and multi-dimensional.  His performance brings to mind a conversation I had with a fellow playwright whose sister has cerebral palsy.  He told me, "Everyone just looks and sees a poor disabled angel.  They don't realize that my sister can be a real b****."  Now, this is not to say that the character of Josh could ever really be judged or held accountable for his actions, but the actor understood his completeness.  He did not pity him, he just represented him.

And that really goes for the entire performance.  Falling is not a feel-good drama.  There is no happy ending.  But its not a tragedy either.  It's messy and complicated, just like life.  Another friend of mine, who has a daughter with autism, felt that the play was the closest thing to her life she has ever seen on stage.  Finally, someone understood what she's been going through.  And that's what art should be.

IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE ANY PROFANITY STOP READING HERE.
Okay, family members, I warned you.

The very next day I saw The Book of Mormon.  You cannot get a more different piece of theater. (Or so I thought.) As opposed to an intimate family drama, this is a wild, outrageous, brouhaha of a pop musical playing in the elaborate and beautiful Eugene O'Neil theater.  The most important thing I've got to say about Mormon is... it's funny as Hell.  Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of South Park, set about to do what they always do so well: point out how F***ing ridiculous a cultural phenomena is and laugh at it.   And they do it well.  And thoroughly.   That being said.... I think they also succeeded in doing something else.

Now, maybe I'm giving the writers too much credit, and you can call me crazy, but I felt that aside from all the delicious blasphemy, the play hit on some serious issues.  Granted, I feel that way about South Park as well.  Namely, who decides what is "acceptable" religious belief.  When does a religion cease to be a cult and start becoming a faith?  And does it matter if its made up?  Rather surprisingly, the play seems to make the argument that it doesn't really matter if what people believe is objectively true, what matters is how it inspires them to live their lives.  Come on, one character says, It's a metaphor. You didn't really think he f****d a frog, did you?  Take from that what you will.  Unbelievably, this seemingly silly musical was dealing with some very heavy social issues.  AIDS, rape, starvation in Africa, and, just like in Falling, the characters are undergoing a serious test and a crisis of faith.  Their relationship with and understanding of faith is vastly different at the end of the play than it was at the beginning. 

The music: great.  The story: coherent.  The acting: delightful.  My favorite number, personally, was the "creepy Mormon Hell dream," which apparently is something that happens to all Mormons after they've been naughty.  Devils in sparkly onesies dance around with infamous characters from history, and the devil rocks out to electric guitar.  (OMG is he really giving Hitler a bj??) Maybe this was extra funny for me because, as a Catholic, I have also had the creepy Hell dream a time or two.  It was very cathartic. The most shocking number in the show was the second one.  This was a happy-sounding parody of the Lion King's 'Hakuna Matata," but rather than singing "no worries for the rest of your days," the Africans were happily responding to their AIDS crisis and their genocidal war lord with a resounding "F*** you God."  I think the writers placed this song second so that anyone who was going to walk out on the show would leave early and not disturb the rest of us later on.  That's just a theory. 

Now, something I would really like to discuss is the value of profane and "dirty" theater.  I know I don't have to make this argument to my theater colleagues, but some of you who chose to read on, despite my warning, may be thinking "This sounds terrible.  I can't believe they are showing that onstage." I've also had some rather upsetting conversations with people who thought Spring Awakening was pornographic. So because this is my blog, and because I am a theater professional, I would like to take this time to defend R-rated (and even X-rated) theater.  Because I might write some one day.  And I want you to understand why I'm doing what I'm doing, even if you don't like it.

First off: the fuzzy musical is a very recent development in theater.  In fact, its very American.  Theater from its inception has been an examination of the lived human experience, and that means even the ugly parts.  The ancient Greeks were not writing Mama Mia.  In fact, Aristotle would have thrown that out with disgust.  The first plays were tragedies.  Hard core, wrench your guts out, tragedies.  And by the way, Oedipus had sex with his mother.  Never forget that.  When comedy did start to arise, it was all political.  Aristophanes mocked civic leaders of his day, and commented on the futility of war, much like the makers of South Park.  There was no room for meaningless romantic comedies in the theater.  Why? Because theater is POWERFUL and it can do things.  The power of art should not be wasted on fluff.

Second: Sex and profanity in the the theater is nothing new.  Once again, in ancient Greece, the comedies were dirty.  Dirty.  Dirty.  The whole premise of Lysistrata is that the women withhold sex in order to end the war.  That play has more words for a man's member than I know in English.  And there is a long, drawn out, scene in which a man prepares to have sex with his wife.  On stage.  Oh, and they had wooden boners.  So if you think Spring Awakening is offensive, don't go see the classics.  (Note: Spring Awakening is a classic play by Frank Wedekind written in 1890.  The recent musical is an adaptation.)  Also, the greatest playwright of all times, in my opinion, William Shakespeare was no stranger to making a dirty joke.  Get a good annotated copy of Romeo and Juliet and take a good look at... everything the nurse says.  It's not subtle, and it wouldn't have been so in his time.  People loved that stuff then, and they still do.  And he uses every equivalent to the f-bomb that existed in his time.  And he challenged God, often. And he let those characters rage at God, if the situation called for it, which it often does. So if you can't see blasphemy onstage, you can't see Shakespeare.  And if you don't see Shakespeare.... well, there's no remedy for that, unfortunately. 

Finally: As I've said before, theater represents life.  Sex, violence, humor, joy, and sadness are all parts of that life.  So please, don't say that some things shouldn't exist on stage.  If you don't like it, that's one thing.  But its important to understand that theater as purely entertainment is not the point of the art form.  It is not the rule, but rather the exception to the rule.  And when I say I like serious theater it is not because I am a pessimist but because I love theater for what it is. I love theater passionately for what it is. I love representing life as it is, and I did not enter this career in order to be escapist.  The life of a theater artist is too valuable to waste on escapism.    

Actually, I think life is too valuable to waste on escapism.  That's my opinion. 

 Now go out and see a great play!

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