"Stew"
I love going to the theater. It was once said of Sylvia Myles that she would go to the opening of an envelope if it was free. While my long history with paper might indicate I also like being home when the mail arrives- I let it wait for me, not the other way around. I have things to do... But I like envelopes.
I get mail from Broadway. It comes in the inbox at AOL but I have found at times e-mail is more than superior to paper mail, especially since the "delete" button replaces schlepping stuff I have no interest in out to the trash cans and risking stocking and heels on the crumbly sidewalk around the back of the house.
So in comes a little missive from my pals at Telecharge. "Passing Strange". Hmmm. Spike Lee endorses it and I give a half a moment to thinking about the time Spike visited the big giant paper store and pitched a fit because he wasn't given a receipt (it was in the bag). Despite my affection for "She's Gotta Have It" and "School Daze" and other joints- I can't shake the dweeb image from my mind.
But then there is the buzz on "Strange". Literally an undercurrent of murmurs. A guy with one name ("Stew") a new age/rock and roll score and a sexy media-genic cast. This can either be great or horrendous. I know- I'm IN marketing- we always put the best stuff up front- it's anyone's guess whether the reality lives up to the hype. But...tickets are $21.50 in the balcony. In my head I hear an envelope ripping and with a quick e-mail exchange to VLH we procure balcony seats to "the real". (Mind you, if you'd like this offer go to www.BroadwayOffers.com or call (212) 947-8844 and use code PSTCX33 or bring this to the Belasco Theatre, 111 West 44th St. Balcony seats are usually $26.50- you can give the 5 you save to Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids)
The seats we had defined nosebleed. Literally the last row- however- it was the last row- dead center- and a row comprised of only 2 seats- ours. If you can request 112 and 113 E, they are the best the balcony has to offer as far as I am concerned- it was like viewing the play the way angels watch the earth- great view and close to the amenities including a ladie's room SO small the sink was OUTSIDE the bathroom. And if the play sucked- we could neck. You see, I wasn't really sure that $21.50 bought me a good time- so I was exploring other options- necking was my insurance policy. I had a ringer with me in H.
It began. I was almost sad to see the lights go down on the beautiful murals and stained glass and wood ceiling of the Belasco. The cast took the stage like they were spending an evening at the Hammerstein Ballroom- band-style, they just walked on. The audience was obviously seeded with the faithful as their applause was immediate- or perhaps it's just because there are not so many folks on Broadway who look like Stew-at least not since the demise of Thomas "Fats" Waller. Much has been written about Stew's unconventional look, but honestly- he just looked cool to me. I never much went in for the brilliantined Broadway idol type- unless it was in a Jewish Jerry Ohrbach kind of style.
There was not a lot of the Jewish stuff here- which was very ok. Watching the show unfold (and at first it did that just a bit slowly) I loved the musicians being right on stage. I heard H gasp. I later found out that H's audible intake of breath was his epiphany that the stage was not going up and down but that the musicians were on platforms that rose and fell as the scene required. There was a driving rock and roll score and Stew is formidable on his lovely hollow-bodied electric. I loved that he had no wires on his guitar- like some sort of free-form marionette- he moved around the stage unencumbered by wires, walking us through his life as an adolescent.
At first I became aware I was watching a new form- not opera quite but most assuredly not your traditional Broadway musical. Too much thinking going on for a lark and though the words rhymed and there was dancing- the rhymes were more rap than lyric- and the dancing more a way to display energy- hence the show has a movement coordinator instead of a choreographer- it's not choreographed- it's exhuberance expressed without falling into one of the musician's pits onstagein the process.
I was not sure I was seeing what the show spoke of as "the real" after all- I was in a theater watching someone else's life- I had come here SPECIFICALLY to be drawn out of the real of MY life. But I knew- in a very short time, that I was experiencing the NEW. On the time-worn stage of that lovely old theater these guys were trying something- albeit cobbled together from several older forms, something NEW. And after over thirty years of theater-going- to see that, truly for the first time, was breath taking. Unlike H I was not gasping- I was holding my breath.This was special.
The cast is phenomenally talented. The script has moments that at least for me- were definitely core. Speaking of the choices of slaves vs. the life of a coward with no choices still rings with me. And the dialog between an adult and an adolescent being spoken to as an adult for the first time brought back memories for me long untouched. And the music was great. At one point the score soared so high I was dizzy with it- feeling the music washing over and tthrough me in a way I have never experienced in a theater. I have heard from other theatergoers that Strange's second act was inferior to the first- it wasn't- you just nevergot as high as that moment in the first act again.
I read the reviews- certainly everyone pointed out that a bit of editing would not be out of place. But how do you edit your life? For that matter- as I sat watching Stew onstage- brave in his Chucks- I wondered how you get to a place where you can be so bold as to say- this is who I am, this is where I fucked up, and this is where it got me. I am not sure what you'd leave out- what I am certain of is that for some viewer- it would be key. I'd like it a lot if people would re-learn to sit still for more than 90 minutes. This is where the epiphanies are- just north of when your rump goes numb. The 2.5 hour running time would only be excessive if it wasn't so enjoyable.
I left the theater and we walked down 7th Ave towards the PATH. H was beyond excited and I enjoyed his virtual jumping up and down at what he had just witnessed. "This will be coming back to me for days" I said thoughtfully. And it has. It's a thinking thing for me. The impact takes time. At the end of a play, perhaps what is ACTUALLY the real- is in the resonance it creates in the viewer.
I wondered about the future of the play- Broadway invented the phrase- if you can make it there... NY ain't cheap and Broadway even less so. But I hope. I hope- it was, once upon a time, that NY was a place you went to try new things- now current Broadway roster would not be unfamiliar to my mom- or my grandmother- with revivals on every street corner and older theatrical chestnuts being hawked and rehawked- not that I have anything against Kander and Ebb or Tennessee Williams. I am just hoping that there is a space, and an audience that is up for the surprise. And the real.
www.PassingStrangeOnBroadway.com
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