#664 Musings Beyond the Bunker (Friday May 19)
Good morning,
I went to see the remake of the musical 1776 last month. It was an unusual experience, with both positives and negatives. Here are thoughts on that production and on theatre generally…
The musical 1776 is one of those wonderful pieces that belongs in the canon of great second-tier musicals. It broke no barriers of storytelling or musical theatre, like Carousel, Oklahoma!, Company, Hamilton, or A Chorus Line. And it doesn’t have the star performance of a Zero Mostel, Len Cariou, Barbra Streisand, or Ethel Merman. But it is entertaining, while offering both a celebration of the unlikely American founding and a critique of the fundamental contradictions and hypocrisy of that enterprise.
Sure, it was a little long and contained some pieces that could be omitted without sacrifice to the plot or the score (e.g., “He Plays the Violin”). And yes, there was more than a bit of cornball. But it was a lovely production. Some of the lyrics are a stretch—the rhyming of etiquette, predicate, and Connecticut was never before, and never will be, seen in any other context!
THIS REVIVAL
Revivals of 1776 are not common. When this modern remake of the play, first staged on Broadway, now at the Ahmanson Theatre in Downtown L.A. and beginning its national tour, I was excited. There were still some exemplary performances, particularly “Molasses to Rum to Slaves” and “Is Anybody There.” And the tenderness and wisdom of the correspondence between John and Abigail Adams was preserved and well executed. The actress playing Ben Franklin was excellent. But beyond that, it was a mish-mosh of what can best be described as a strong high school production with an earnest dose of trying to make a statement.
That’s not the worst of it, as the statement being made about gender was unconnected to the original musical or the historical record, and it was delivered without adding to the experience (and, in fact, detracting from it). The original message of 1776, regarding the messiness and compromise that led to independence, while retaining the “peculiar institution” that would lead to civil war and shape our history of inequality, was buried in another message that the producers believed more important—a lesson in gender identity.
I am all for new, experimental theatre. And I am all for interesting and diverse casting that may cause the audience to consider a play in a different light. This, however, was performative and without purpose. If the goal was to allow the viewer to consider transgender rights, it didn’t do that. If it was to highlight the very real challenges these people face, it was equally unsuccessful there. What it did do was to demonstrate that transgender actors can play a variety of parts—sometimes well. But there really wasn’t a message connected at all with the gender identity of the actors. It didn’t enter the plot and didn’t demonstrate some higher moral message. It was a gimmick.
More notably, this play, which celebrates the diversity of gender and gender identity, was made up entirely of women, transgender, and non-binary actors, all playing roles (other than Abigail Adams and Martha Jefferson) of men. Of some curiosity, in this blending of genders, and the printed program’s celebration of such (including a glossary of gender terms), not one male actor was in the ensemble. I am told this is to provide the experience of what it feels like to be excluded from the historical narrative. That’s fair enough—but the story here is about a bunch of men (and a couple of wives) at the time of the Revolution. It is perfectly legitimate to say that women should have been a greater part of it, but that isn’t the reality.
IT CAN BE DONE WITH GREATER EFFECT
I’m perplexed at the purpose of the casting. Hamilton, of course, introduced traditionally white male characters as different sexes and ethnicities. Through the casting, the story was shown to be universal. The mix of musical genres brought the story into the current time, making it palpable and relatable. The ironies of some of the words coming from the mouths of non-white actors were apparent, as well as the frequent use of modern musical trends. The message was profound, yet not overwrought.
Company, the first of a pastiche musical without a linear plot line, was restaged with a woman in the role of Bobby (Bobbie), the over-sexed, immature, nervous lead. And one of the more endearing couples was recast as a gay couple. It all worked and the messages were more than subliminal but less than a hammer to the head—women are sexual beings who make poor choices, just like men, and gay couples fundamentally are the same as heterosexual couples (as loving, as funny, and as neurotic as the rest of us!).
Here, the effort to completely sterilize the historic record from male presence was an odd choice. Among other flaws, this production seems to ignore the fact that different voices, often tied to birth gender, fit certain songs better than others—and harmonizing requires a bit more in the way of harmony. Curiously, at moments that called for a deep male voice—one of hostility bordering on violence (which, curiously, would have gone well with one of the few messages of the play)—it was replaced with a voice in a higher register, challenging credulity. To understand my meaning, try to picture the famous aria from Don Giovani delivered in soprano.
EXPERIENCING OTHER PEOPLES AND CULTURES
I love theatre. A live production can move us in ways that a slick, over-edited, CGI-laden movie cannot. It can offer us some of the most profound and moving moments (as well as the occasional mistake) that renders it real and palpable. A great evening of theatre becomes the subject of reflection at dessert after the show and days later when reviewing the experience with friends. At its best, a great season is a mix of the historic old warhorses retooled for our times and the voices of new, more diverse, playwrights and directors.
I love the theatre for the ways in which it transports the audience to another time, another culture, and other circumstances. The cycle of plays of August Wilson show the 20th century black experience. Soft Power, Zoot Suit, Fiddler on the Roof, and Clyde’s similarly are perspectives on different people (Asian, Latino, Jewish, and Black) in different circumstances. The messages they convey are instructive as to their milieu and instructive as to the basic humanity of us all and the transcendence and universality of themes.
BACK TO 1776 AND LOOKING FORWARD TO TRANSPARENT
The purpose of the casting here, best as I can tell, was (beyond the gimmick) to show that women can play men and transsexual and nonbinary actors can play male historical figures. This is true. It doesn’t matter who plays the part, so long as it is loyal to the man. John Adams, one of my heroes from American history, still is John Adams in this telling (thankfully!). Until David McCollough’s eponymous biography of the great man, I was sad few others could share my love of his character and accomplishments. Whenever I read another book about him, I would get a tear in my eye. Here was a man of considerable intellectual, moral, and emotional depth, who had a vision few at the time shared. By the sheer force of will, he was able to bring others to see that vision and create a new nation. Good father, loving husband, naively finding the good in most men, with a strong moral compass. This is the “lesson” of 1776, as much as any other. He can be portrayed by a woman—I get it—and he still is John Adams. But the casting of a woman offered little in the way of new perspective, irony, or message. She was still a woman playing a man. There was no “value added.”
I look forward to the upcoming production of Transparent, a musical retelling of that TV phenomenon, so I can have another, more direct and (hopefully) more satisfying, evening better understanding people different from me. The musical, which describes itself as “unabashedly queer” is one I don’t want to miss. It will be at the Mark Taper Forum May 20 to June 25. We should all support great theatre.
Have a great day,
Glenn