It’s A Suggestion, Not A Review: I’m In an Ill Humour

Dave Sikula is bitching about British Theatre.

The misspelling above is intentional and the smallest of protests against what I see as a creeping Anglophilia in the theatre and, well, in general.

My wife and I saw the broadcast of the Menier Chocolate Factory production of Stephen Sondheim and George Furth’s “Merrily We Roll Along” tonight, and my dislike of the show and the production aside, it reminded me of something I wanted to discuss after seeing the broadcast of the National Theatre’s production of “Othello” last week; namely, why the hell are the only productions seen in this format direct from London? *

Now, to make things clear from the start, I have nothing against the RSC, the National Theatre, the Chocolate Factory, or any other production company or entity (Okay; there are some companies who have burned me often enough that I’ll steer clear of them, but in general, I wish everyone all the best). I mean, I’ve seen their productions in person on numerous occasions and have obviously paid good (American) money to see the broadcasts. Some of them (John Lithgow in “The Magistrate;” “All’s Well That Ends Well”) I’ve enjoyed immensely; some of them were just dull (Derek Jacobi in “Cyrano” and “Much Ado About Nothing”); and some of them were just puzzling (the recent “Othello”). That said, anything that brings theatre into the consciousness of the mass public is to be welcomed.

But why is it always the Brits? What is it about that accent that turns otherwise-sensible Americans weak at the knees? I was going to say “discerning Americans,” but that would mean leaving out New York Times critic Ben Brantley, who seemingly spends as much time in the West End as he does in Times Square. This self-congratulatory article deals with it. (London’s “theatre scene … is the best in the world”? Yeah, it doesn’t get much better than “Grease 2 in Concert” or “The Mousetrap.”) But now I’m just getting petty. My point is, though, other than London and Broadway, Mr. Brantley doesn’t seem to think any other theatre is worth his time; nothing in Los Angeles, Denver, Chicago, or even San Francisco seems worthy of his notice.

I found the production of “Merrily” pretty dull (an opinion in which I seem to be in the minority), but that’s not the point. If the exact same production had been mounted at, say, the St. Louis Muny or the 5^th Avenue Theatre in Seattle, only Sondheim buffs would have heard of it, and it certainly wouldn’t have been shown in American cinemas.

Now, I realize a good portion of this lack of American product is due to commercial considerations. Producers on Broadway are trying to sell tickets and make a profit. Road producers (I’m lookin’ at you, SHN!) probably think it would cramp their ticket sales. (Though it seems to me like exposure would increase, rather than diminish, audiences’ interest in seeing live shows.)

I wouldn’t expect to see “The Book of Mormon” or “The Lion King” at my local movie house (although that didn’t seem to be a consideration when the National’s “One Man, Two Guvnors” or “War Horse” were screened in advance of their runs on Broadway. For that matter, the films of “Les Mis” and “Phantom” didn’t seem to daunt their popularity as live attractions). But that doesn’t explain why we don’t see productions from seeming “non-profits” as the Roundabout, Manhattan Theatre Club, Lincoln Center Theater, or Playwright’s Horizons. Hell, national exposure might actually help these companies’ revenue stream. And those are just companies in New York. That barely scratches the surface of what’s being done in the rest of the country.

As a reader of American Theatre, I’m exposed on a monthly basis to shows I’ll never see in person. I’m not saying that every production across America needs broadcasting, but surely Steppenwolf’s production of Nina Raines’s “Tribes” or the Guthrie’s “Uncle Vanya” or the Magic’s “Buried Child” (to name just three) are as worthy of a national audience as Alan Bennett’s “The Habit of Art” from the National. But somehow the imprimatur of “London” makes it a must-see for some.

And it’s not just broadcasts of plays. How many times, especially in recent years, have we had to suffer through the lousy “American” accents of British actors? (It was actually a shock for me to see Nicole Holofcener’s “Enough Said” and hear Toni Collette play with her own Australian accent, so used was I to hearing foreigners play characters who were American despite no real reasons in the script.) Sure, there are actors (Collette herself, Hugh Laurie. Alfred Molina) who can do superb dialects, but there are just as many (such as the cast of “Merrily”) whose attempts are cringe-worthy. But they’re British, so the assumption is that they’re better trained and better actors solely because of their nationality.

(I’ve also noticed the creeping use of British English subject/verb agreement. I always find myself making mental corrections when a singular entity, such as a corporation or company is said to do something with a “have,” as in “BART have announced the strike has been settled.” It’s “has,” dammit. Or when someone is said to be “in hospital” or there’s some kind of scandal in “sport.” It just sets my teeth on edge.)

Anyway, my point isn’t that we shouldn’t be exposed to British theatre; what they show us is usually worth seeing.” What I am saying is that I’d like to see American companies, as well; or even Russian, Brazilian, Malaysian, or French (the greatest thing I ever saw on stage was Théâtre du Soleil’s “Richard II.”) Why should audiences be deprived of great theatre just because it didn’t originate in the West End? In Christopher Durang’s “Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike” (the Berkeley Rep production of which I so raved about in this space last time), Vanya has a long rant about what he sees as the debasement of American popular culture (a rant I – and a good portion of the audience – agreed with, by the way). The rant includes this complaint: “The Ed Sullivan Show was before Bishop Sheen, and he had opera singers on, and performers from current Broadway shows. Richard Burton and Julie Andrews would sing songs from Camelot. It was wonderful. It helped theater be a part of the national consciousness, which it isn’t anymore.” As much as we all love the theatre – either as participant or spectator – unless we do something to restore that awareness among the public at large, we’re talking to ourselves – and a dwindling “ourselves” at that. I don’t know if the Americanization of televised theatre would change that awareness, but I’d sure like to see someone try it.

* Okay, there were the broadcast of the production of Sondheim and Furth’s “Company” that starred Neil Patrick Harris, and Christopher Plummer in “Barrymore” and “The Tempest,” but those were rarities.

Hi-Ho The Glamorous Life: Marissa in Theatreland

Marissa’s attached note says everything: “Researched in London, written in Paris! xo Your Foreign Correspondent” Enjoy!

They call it Theatreland. Like Wonderland. A word that evokes the magical, transporting power of theater and makes you feel like a kid again. Go to London’s West End, and the street signs inform you that you have now entered Theatreland. Unlike Broadway, the other main theater district in the Anglophone world, it is not glitzy or fast-paced or neon-lit. The Cambridge Theatre, where the musical Matilda is currently playing, is located on a quaint and adorable little cobblestone plaza.

However, like Broadway, the West End contains a lot of shows that just don’t appeal to me: it overflows with jukebox musicals and nostalgia pieces. (I was using the Rock of Ages theater as a landmark, then got momentarily flummoxed when I confused it with the We Will Rock You theater.) OK, maybe I should have tried to get tickets to Matilda – Roald Dahl’s novel was one of my favorite books when I was a kid. Or to Posh, the satirical drama that everyone is saying will be the next History Boys. And I was sorely tempted by Elevator Repair Service’s Gatz, but gave myself a stern talking-to along the lines of “No, Marissa, you will not spend one of your six precious days in London attending an 8-hour play by an American company based on an American novel.”

Because this was my first trip to London, I wanted theatergoing to be one component of my visit, rather than the main event. Therefore, I saw two plays – Fear, at the Bush Theatre, and Henry V, at the Globe – and passed by, visited, or ate at several more theaters. Here are some lessons I picked up from my sojourn in Theatreland.

All theaters should have cafés. In six days in London, I ate three meals at theaters. (Four, if you count the sandwich I grabbed at Pret a Manger and then ate on the steps of the Palladium Theatre, for lack of anywhere else to sit.) The Bush Theatre, located in a former library in Shepherd’s Bush, has an amazing café that serves baked goods, all kinds of alcoholic and nonalcoholic drinks, and a daily hot meal special or two. Even better, an entire wall of the café is taken up by a bookshelf containing play scripts and theater books, free for the browsing. Former library, indeed! I wanted to move into that café and never leave.

A few days later, I was on the South Bank and in need of a late lunch. As luck would have it, I stumbled upon the Menier Chocolate Factory Theatre and its attached restaurant. The Menier’s productions get great reviews (two of their Sondheim revivals have transferred to Broadway) and so does the food that they serve. I had a very good sandwich, in a room hung with theater posters and production photos on its exposed-brick walls. After lunch, I peeked into the attached art gallery and the theater’s lobby, and even chatted a bit with an actress who was there auditioning for an upcoming show.

Finally, on my last day in London, I again needed a late lunch after touring Westminster Abbey. Having had such good luck with the other theater cafes, I visited the National Theatre, browsed its bookshop, and picked up a sandwich at its snack bar.

It’s great when you can get a tasty, reasonably priced meal at a place that isn’t a chain restaurant or a tourist trap. It’s even better when you can enjoy your food in an interesting, cultured setting. Theater cafés fulfill these needs for their patrons, while at the same time promoting the theater’s brand and making theater seem like an accessible and friendly entertainment option. When I walked into the Bush Theatre’s café about an hour before showtime, it was full of young people drinking coffee and working on their laptops, and I doubt that they all had tickets to the show that night. Theater cafés are not the only reason why theater is more popular in the U.K. than in America – but they’re certainly one of the reasons.

If the show is good, you lose yourself in it. I got a £5 groundling ticket (£5! And they say London is expensive!) for Henry V at the Globe. It can’t get any more English than that, can it?

Of course, I followed the standard advice for groundlings: bring layers, wear comfortable shoes, try to get in early so that you can lean up against the front of the stage or against the back wall. I opted for the back wall, which, being slightly under the roof’s overhang, had the added advantage of protecting me from the rain showers passing overhead that night. But I’d been out all day, visiting the South Bank and the Tate Modern, and hoped that my feet wouldn’t hurt too badly as I stood for 3 hours of Shakespeare.

And at first, I was worried, because the beginning of Henry V is kind of slow going. There’s all that interminable discussion about the “Salic law,” plus the first appearance of Pistol, Bardolph, and Nym was tedious rather than funny. And I noticed my feet hurting. A lot. However, as the show proceeded and the action picked up – the battle scenes, the famous speeches, the well-balanced blend of comedy and drama – I got lost in the play. Shakespeare’s language, the actors’ skill, and the thrill of seeing a show at the reconstructed Globe overtook me, and I didn’t notice my own physical discomfort at all. Such is the magic of Theatreland.

Marissa Skudlarek is a San Francisco-based playwright and arts writer. Find her at marissabidilla.blogspot.com or on Twitter @MarissaSkud.