(no subject)
All right, so, yes, AFTER SOME PEER PRESSURE FROM THE AUDIENCE AROUND HERE, 
obopolsk and I did ... in fact ... just get back from seeing Ethel Sings. (
nextian: it was in the same place we saw 'Philosophy for Gangsters.' For the record. I'm sure you're shocked.)
And Ethel did sing! Although not as much as we perhaps were expecting. In fact the first act was reasonably short on singing overall and featured only one (1) excerpt from a La Boheme aria, one (1) Yiddish lullaby, and one (1) rap-poem sung to a small symbolic plant.
We were also not expecting Ethel to be constantly accompanied by a character who as far as we could tell was meant to be either Lorraine Hansberry, Matron Mama Morton, or some kind of Eternal Goddess Muse representing the continuity of human persecution and female creativity, BUT IN ANY CASE spent most of her time telling Ethel that she was wonderful.
...but aside from this most of the first act was pretty reasonable? 90% of the time it was a fairly straightforward drama about Ethel and Julius Rosenberg, with occasional ahistorical interjections from Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry:
ETHEL: Ike Eisenhower is a good man! He'll surely pardon us!
GODDESS MUSE LORRAINE HANSBERRY: What we need is a black Jewish dyke president!
Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry also graced us at one point with a spontaneous African dance and provided a rhythmic support section for Ethel's rap-poem.
Things got slightly weirder in the trial scene, especially when Ethel's sister-in-law Ruth Greenglass went full-on Chicago and started seducing the judge in the courtroom to the sounds of razzle-dazzle. Then the Rosenbergs were sentenced and it was time for intermission.
SARA: I have to admit, I was expecting more singing. All I want is a heartfelt duet between Julius and Ethel! That's all I want!
BECCA: OK, but at this point I think it's possible that the title ... is a pun?
SARA: How so?
BECCA: I mean .... the thing is .... Ethel does spend a significant amount of time in Sing Sing ...
SARA: ...
At this point a nice elderly lady sitting in front of us turned around. "So," she asked sweetly, "I'm curious, what brings you two here? I'm old enough to remember the tragedy -- did your parents perhaps grow up in New York and tell you about it?"
We stared at each other in horror and attempted to stammer something plausible-sounding that was not "OUR FRIENDS TOLD US TO COME SO WE COULD MOCK THIS SHOW THAT'S CLEARLY VERY MEANINGFUL TO YOU."
BECCA: My mother grew up in Long Island in the seventies! Sixties! Fifties, I mean!
SARA: I ... I've always been interested in history!
Fortunately very soon after this Act 2 began!
Act 2 was ... stranger. It opened with a heartwarming version of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" between prison inmates that ended with most of the cast howling and doing their best jerky zombie impressions while Ethel and Julius looked on in horror.
Soon thereafter, Sara got her duet between Ethel and Julius, who sang a sexy, even more Chicago-esque number in which the word "sizzle" featured prominently. We think this was meant to be an ironic reference to the electric chair.
Roy Cohn showed up repeatedly throughout the act to harass Ethel and at one point, confusingly, attempted to seduce her. Then he handed her a sparkly Bob Fosse bowler hat, broke out some backup singers, and offered her a Broadway show if she would plead guilty and reveal other names.
Ethel, while tempted, ended up rejecting his seductions after indulging in a few kick lines.
Ethel's mother also showed up frequently to throw imprecations on Ethel in broken English, as the worst Evil Jewish Mother stereotype I have yet seen onstage. Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry cuddled Ethel gently and told her to stay strong, because she (Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry) was the eternal mother and everything was going to be OK, and we grimaced, because, like, it would be nice if the most prominent black actress in the cast did not have to spend 75% of her time playing soothing and supportive mother to the white star.
Ethel's children also showed up frequently, trying to guilt Ethel into confessing and toting their symbolic plant. While I understand the emphasis the show put on Ethel's feelings of guilt about abandoning her kids, it would have been nice to use some of that time to talk about ... any of the actual issues around the Rosenberg trial?
And, then you know, then the Rosenbergs were executed. It was very sad, but as various actors came out and covered the electric chair with carbon copies of the symbolic plant, TO MY SHAME, all I could think of was the ending sequence of Little Shop of Horrors.
I mean, OK. The thing is. THE THING IS. I could often see what the playwright was getting towards. It was very well meant! I can understand why she wanted to connect the Rosenberg trial with incarceration-related injustices ongoing today! It would have been nice if it was more coherent, and I really do not think Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry was necessary for this, and admittedly for actual success I think it would probably have been necessary to cut out any and all references to Chicago. And also decide whether Ethel Rosenberg was a passionate martyr who died for her convictions, or an innocent housewife who didn't care about Communism and never did anything wrong to begin with, because, like ... that decision ... was not made ...
...but an attempt was made? An attempt was made. And I've just found out that ten percent of the ticket proceeds go to benefit The Rosenberg Fund for Children, and now I feel like a heel, so
rymenhild,
viorica, since you offered charitable donations to get me to the show, I direct your attention there.
This entry is cross-posted at Livejournal from http://skygiants.dreamwidth.org/375919.html. Please feel free to comment here or there! There are currently
comments on Dreamwidth.
obopolsk and I did ... in fact ... just get back from seeing Ethel Sings. (
nextian: it was in the same place we saw 'Philosophy for Gangsters.' For the record. I'm sure you're shocked.)
And Ethel did sing! Although not as much as we perhaps were expecting. In fact the first act was reasonably short on singing overall and featured only one (1) excerpt from a La Boheme aria, one (1) Yiddish lullaby, and one (1) rap-poem sung to a small symbolic plant.
We were also not expecting Ethel to be constantly accompanied by a character who as far as we could tell was meant to be either Lorraine Hansberry, Matron Mama Morton, or some kind of Eternal Goddess Muse representing the continuity of human persecution and female creativity, BUT IN ANY CASE spent most of her time telling Ethel that she was wonderful.
...but aside from this most of the first act was pretty reasonable? 90% of the time it was a fairly straightforward drama about Ethel and Julius Rosenberg, with occasional ahistorical interjections from Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry:
ETHEL: Ike Eisenhower is a good man! He'll surely pardon us!
GODDESS MUSE LORRAINE HANSBERRY: What we need is a black Jewish dyke president!
Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry also graced us at one point with a spontaneous African dance and provided a rhythmic support section for Ethel's rap-poem.
Things got slightly weirder in the trial scene, especially when Ethel's sister-in-law Ruth Greenglass went full-on Chicago and started seducing the judge in the courtroom to the sounds of razzle-dazzle. Then the Rosenbergs were sentenced and it was time for intermission.
SARA: I have to admit, I was expecting more singing. All I want is a heartfelt duet between Julius and Ethel! That's all I want!
BECCA: OK, but at this point I think it's possible that the title ... is a pun?
SARA: How so?
BECCA: I mean .... the thing is .... Ethel does spend a significant amount of time in Sing Sing ...
SARA: ...
At this point a nice elderly lady sitting in front of us turned around. "So," she asked sweetly, "I'm curious, what brings you two here? I'm old enough to remember the tragedy -- did your parents perhaps grow up in New York and tell you about it?"
We stared at each other in horror and attempted to stammer something plausible-sounding that was not "OUR FRIENDS TOLD US TO COME SO WE COULD MOCK THIS SHOW THAT'S CLEARLY VERY MEANINGFUL TO YOU."
BECCA: My mother grew up in Long Island in the seventies! Sixties! Fifties, I mean!
SARA: I ... I've always been interested in history!
Fortunately very soon after this Act 2 began!
Act 2 was ... stranger. It opened with a heartwarming version of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" between prison inmates that ended with most of the cast howling and doing their best jerky zombie impressions while Ethel and Julius looked on in horror.
Soon thereafter, Sara got her duet between Ethel and Julius, who sang a sexy, even more Chicago-esque number in which the word "sizzle" featured prominently. We think this was meant to be an ironic reference to the electric chair.
Roy Cohn showed up repeatedly throughout the act to harass Ethel and at one point, confusingly, attempted to seduce her. Then he handed her a sparkly Bob Fosse bowler hat, broke out some backup singers, and offered her a Broadway show if she would plead guilty and reveal other names.
Ethel, while tempted, ended up rejecting his seductions after indulging in a few kick lines.
Ethel's mother also showed up frequently to throw imprecations on Ethel in broken English, as the worst Evil Jewish Mother stereotype I have yet seen onstage. Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry cuddled Ethel gently and told her to stay strong, because she (Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry) was the eternal mother and everything was going to be OK, and we grimaced, because, like, it would be nice if the most prominent black actress in the cast did not have to spend 75% of her time playing soothing and supportive mother to the white star.
Ethel's children also showed up frequently, trying to guilt Ethel into confessing and toting their symbolic plant. While I understand the emphasis the show put on Ethel's feelings of guilt about abandoning her kids, it would have been nice to use some of that time to talk about ... any of the actual issues around the Rosenberg trial?
And, then you know, then the Rosenbergs were executed. It was very sad, but as various actors came out and covered the electric chair with carbon copies of the symbolic plant, TO MY SHAME, all I could think of was the ending sequence of Little Shop of Horrors.
I mean, OK. The thing is. THE THING IS. I could often see what the playwright was getting towards. It was very well meant! I can understand why she wanted to connect the Rosenberg trial with incarceration-related injustices ongoing today! It would have been nice if it was more coherent, and I really do not think Goddess Muse Lorraine Hansberry was necessary for this, and admittedly for actual success I think it would probably have been necessary to cut out any and all references to Chicago. And also decide whether Ethel Rosenberg was a passionate martyr who died for her convictions, or an innocent housewife who didn't care about Communism and never did anything wrong to begin with, because, like ... that decision ... was not made ...
...but an attempt was made? An attempt was made. And I've just found out that ten percent of the ticket proceeds go to benefit The Rosenberg Fund for Children, and now I feel like a heel, so
rymenhild,
viorica, since you offered charitable donations to get me to the show, I direct your attention there.
This entry is cross-posted at Livejournal from http://skygiants.dreamwidth.org/375919.html. Please feel free to comment here or there! There are currently
comments on Dreamwidth.