Theatre criticism.

Why does the entire theatre community live and die by the words of white men? Ben Brantley. Charles Isherwood. Rob Hurwitt (for those in the Bay Area). Jason Zinoman. Not much has changed since the days of Clive Barnes and Frank Rich.

Apparently there is a woman, Anita Gates, who writes off-Broadway reviews for the New York Times. Of course I didn't know that until I went and looked it up, because she doesn't write any reviews that make or break shows. Somehow I doubt this is all her fault (although I can't speak for her taste, as her twitter account is full of American Idol and her blog is theatergossip.com).

I ranted last week about Isherwood's review of Neighbors. And today I read Theresa Rebeck's keynote address from the Laura Pels the other night, in which she mentioned how a NYTimes review ruined her career for several years. Everyone knew the review was horrible, but none the less she lost a number of regional theatre productions and publication in American Theatre Magazine... but don't just read my summary, read the speech: http://womenandhollywood.com/2010/03/16/text-of-theresa-rebeck-laura-pels-keynote-address/ (anyone interested in gender disparity in theatre or just in powerful storytelling should read this speech)

Needless to say, the review was written by a white man. The wonderful playwright David Wiener, who I met at the Lark, mentioned just last night having a review written by the same man that made him not want to write anymore. What does the reviewing world do to young playwrights? We need to encourage talent, not shove it back into a hole... or there will be no diversity in theatre.

I wonder how the theatre world will change with the New York Times talking about charging for internet access, and other papers shutting down their print copies entirely and firing their theatre critics. I can't imagine the Times and having half as much influence as it does now (which is in itself half as much influence as it had a few years ago). Will theatre audiences turn to the blog world to decide whether shows live and die? Will criticism become obsolete? I think this is a huge question for theatre. I personally have not found the quality of internet criticism anywhere near the quality of print criticism... it requires an interesting state of mind to be able to write off a single review (of Neighbors, for example), and then read the same critic's review of other plays and take them at their word. Should I just not trust anything the New York Times tells me because I liked one play they did not? That would be like saying I wouldn't like Naomi Iizuka's Concerning Strange Devices from the Distant West at Berkeley Rep because Rob Hurwitt loved it, and he didn't like another play that I liked (I haven't seen it, but it sounds amazing. Or maybe that's just me taking Rob Hurwitt at face value?). I can't do that. One has to believe that the critics are right some of the time, even if they are wrong in others. Because the entire world looks to them to tell them whether or not a show is worth their money and energy. These days I only want to attend theatre based on the recommendations of friends because I can't trust anything written on the internet or in the newspaper. But theatres can't run on audiences of friends (who, like me, would rather not pay full price, or at all). And so they are dependent on the critics.

Both related to this post and to the last, I saw Clybourne Park on Sunday (closing night). For those of you who don't know, this is the more-talked about "race play" (than Neighbors) set in the white neighborhood that Lorraine Hansberry's characters planned to move into in Raisin in the Sun. The first act is at the time of the white family moving out in 1959, the second act is when a white family wants to move in to the now black, downtrodden neighborhood in 2009. The dialogue was quick and witty, but I did not feel that it went much deeper than that... and told a story that has already been told a dozen times. While the topic is fresh and interesting, the play did not reveal anything to me that I did not already know, it just put it onstage.

It felt, all things considered, that it had been written by a white man.

And Ben Brantley loved it.

That's all I'm saying.

And on that note, I am off to buy some Chinese snacks, so that the critics who come to see my show don't harp on the fact that the words on the labels are Japanese. Because something like that might color the entire review, even if they don't mention the snacks themselves. Seriously, if we knew what exactly the moment was when a reviewer decided they didn't like the play, I don't think we would trust reviews at all. For instance, I decided I didn't like Othello in Ashland because I was against the use of flourescent tube lights. Was I paying attention to anything else? Nope. Don't trust my review, please. Reviews should come with a warning: "Distracted by prop/set/lights. Did not pay attention to the play".

Have a great Tuesday!

I saw a play and it blew my mind.

So the funny thing is that originally this post was going to be about race in theatre. But writing by myself about race felt disingenuous, so I stopped.

And then tonight I saw NEIGHBORS at The Public. Written by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins, a member of the 2009-2010 Emerging Writers Group (and Princeton '06 grad... woah). The play was presented in the Shiva (The Public's black box space) as part of Public Lab, and is currently in its one week extension which ends Sunday.

I have never been so moved by a piece of theatre. Not because of its subject matter or its sensationalism (one of the two families is dressed in minstrel costumes with blackface for the entire production) but rather because of the perfection to which Mr. Jacobs-Jenkins captures tragedy. The middle-aged adjunct professor and father gives the audience (his Greek Theatre class) a vibrant lecture on tragedy near the beginning of the play. Whatever we think we understand about tragedy in the moment cannot compare to watching his world fall apart around him, alongside laughter and love shared between the other characters. THEN I understood tragedy.

I cannot even begin to understand how Charles Isherwood could have written the things he did in his review. It is the review written by someone who hated the premise of the play and within the first five minutes decided he hated it. Someone who really doesn't understand and doesn't want to participate in the world of the play. I think he found the professor to be the only character he could potentially identify with (it's a bit of a stretch, but still) and had to watch the man be ruined. I bet he hated "Bamboozled", too.

The play was three hours and I would not have lost a second of it. It is so rare to see a successful three hour play of any kind, but I was transfixed from start to finish. My friend and I walked out in a daze, exchanging a couple of words for every minute of contemplation that passed between us as we made our way onto the subway until I departed her company.

And it wasn't "about race". It was, but it wasn't. It was about the role race plays in our lives, and particularly in the identity of one man who loses his race along with the rest of his life. I believe this text should be taught in every playwrights of color and performing race class, and plan on e-mailing my professors of those classes and telling them so.

If you actually want to read about race in theatre, check out the Soho rep conversation on colorblind casting: http://www.sohorep.org/feed/2010/01/what-is-color-blind-casting-discussion-now-available-on-line/

And this blog that was published in between me writing the original ideas for this post and today. http://rantsravesandrethoughts.blogspot.com/2010/03/race-in-theatre.html

Next on my to see list: Clybourne Park at Playwrights Horizons and Race on Broadway. And my roommate just texted me to ask if I want to see the former on Wednesday. Sweet.

And with that, I’m out.

P.S. The article which prompted my original post: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/magazine/28Alabama-t.html
It’s really long, but if you have the time and interest, it’s a fascinating article.