Saturday, April 22, 2017

Directorial Musings...The Glass Menagerie

     Everybody's a critic. It's true. And yes, so am I.  But as a theatre educator, I use the process of critique  almost as an academic exercise.  As I attempt to analyze a production, I force myself to formulate my thoughts in way that helps me to grow as a theatre educator and director. I teach my students to separate the play from the production. This is not an easy concept for young theatre students because it challenges them to understand the relationship between playwright and director, and the concepts of intent versus interpretation.  Such was my own challenge with the Broadway revival of The Glass Menagerie with Sally Field.
     I'll admit it. When I walked in to the Belasco Theatre and saw the nearly bare stage, I was disappointed. I didn't know what to think but I knew the production had received mixed reviews - none of which had I read.  The question I found myself asking was to what degree should a director reimagine or reinvent a play and what is the line between the directorial vision and the playwright's intent?  
     My stock answer is that if directorial and design choices serve to illuminate the text in light of a new context or perspective then what's the harm? But I also feel that a director needs to exercise some respectful caution not to flex their creative muscle just because they can. I emphasize to my students the importance of justifying artistic choices and being able to articulate their intended impact. Cleverness for cleverness sake is not a good reason to do something on stage. 
     A week after seeing The Glass Menagerie, I find myself questioning that bare stage, the dull costuming (save Amanda's cartoonish pink tulle dress) and the startling interpretation of Laura's disability. The minimal production elements magnified the profoundly moving performance by  Madison Ferris as a wheelchair bound Laura.  I couldn't help but think of  the late Rick Curry, SJ, founder of the National Theatre Workshop for the Handicapped (NTWH) and how pleased he would have been to see that Broadway had finally achieved his personal mission to cast actors with physical disabilities rather than casting actors to "play" a character with a disability.  I found myself wondering if Sam Gould's choice to reinterpret what Tennessee Williams describes as a slight limp was a way to externally exaggerate Laura's internal self -consciousness of her "clump."  Regardless of the reason, the choice made the character of Laura so central to the play that it caused me to question its impact on the text.
     Perhaps I am being too literal, but given the directorial choice to have Laura carried to the stage from the house, I found it difficult to believe that she ever could have made it to typing school on her own let alone spend days at the bird-house at the zoo. But maybe that was the point. Lay bare all other production elements including a minuscule, nearly invisible glass menagerie, while emphasizing Laura's physical disability may have revealed Amanda's delusional hopes for her daughter and heightened Tom's anguish as the memory of his sister haunts him in store front windows. The production's inconsistencies make an interesting study in opposites:  
Southern lyricism versus an A-tonal modern quality, illusion versus starkness, darkness versus light.
     The extreme contrast in lighting served to underscore the sadness of the story.  The soft, flickering candle- lit scene between Laura and Jim allowed the audience to sit with the aching pathos of Laura's crush, the wincing heartache of a broken unicorn, and the awkward embarrassment of Jim's escape from the clutches of Amanda's delusional dream.  Then, suddenly the lights are turned in an interrogative style onto  the audience, harshly revealing  that bare, unadorned stage, the ugly truth of this dysfunctional family, and the audience as witness to the truth.  As Tom opens the play saying,  "I am the opposite of a stage magician. He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion" - in this production, the audience is left with the broken hearted remnants of a shattered illusion.
     I can't say I loved this production, but I appreciated its boldness and it likely will remain with me for a very long time.  It is for this reason that I believe students should be exposed to a wide range of productions in order to sharpen their directorial eye, wrestle with interpretation, and expand their understanding of theatrical story-telling.  
     


     

Directorial Musings....Fun Home

"And yet...."
Two words that say there is something else. Something unsaid. Something unknown. I marvel at the power of a well conceived lyric.
In listening to the musical  FUN HOME I am even more impressed with the writing and the score by Lisa Kron and Jeanine TesoriFragments of memory are effectively woven and expressed through a musical motif that evokes yearning and remembering. Phrasing, unfinished sentences, thoughts only partially spoken out loud. A void, a space, a pause, an emptiness as deep as a cavern.  But we know what is unsayable and we wait and watch until the characters can finally say it.
This show continues to resonate with me. In listening to it I hear a stress, a tension, a self-consciousness that is palpable in the character of Bruce. He sounds like someone always on the brink of exploding. It is wrenching. This is material that the author Alison Bechdel knows so well. That may seem obvious, but plenty of families choose to pretend, ignore, and deny. It takes guts to look at the truth of one's family and Bechdel does it with honesty and humor.
Each character in FUN HOME is well developed and achingly restrained. A perfect blend of book, score, direction and writing.  I haven't been this captivated by a musical since I saw NEXT TO NORMAL. I am drawn to complex texts with layers of subtext and characters with complicated relationships. Denial, secrecy, choice, discovery, and revelation are powerful storylines. The skill with which the creators of FUN HOME tell the story is truly admirable. The narrative structure is clever without being contrived.  Clearly, this is a musical that will stand the test of time.  It instantly imprinted on my psyche the way Sondheim's INTO THE WOODS did.  Audience members will focus on different aspects of the storyline and be moved by each in their own way based on their own context.   There is plenty to mine in this story. The fact that I'm still thinking about it days after seeing it and am analyzing its structure, relationships, and characters, I know it has made a significant impact on me. For that, I am grateful and inspired.