Showing posts with label Stoppard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stoppard. Show all posts

Sunday, November 30, 2025

Stoppard's Legacy

Yesterday, the world learned of the death of Tom Stoppard, who was probably the world's greatest living playwright. As it so happens, I had a ticket that night to see Archduke by Rajiv Joseph, who like all dramatists today could not help but be influenced by Stoppard.

I think it's fair to say that Archduke couldn't have been written without Stoppard's plays, which brought high comedy to intellectual niche issues. Stoppard burst onto the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 1966 with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, which brought the sensibility of Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot together with William Shakespeare's best-known tragedy, telling the whole story through the eyes of seemingly insignificant characters.

Stoppard followed up that success with The Real Inspector Hound, which skewered the mysteries of Agatha Christie with the same intellectual vigor he had used with Shakespeare. It also happens to be one of the funniest one-act plays you'll ever encounter. His 1972 play Jumpers satirized passing fads in British politics, but also probed the deepest recesses of human emotion. One of my favorites of his plays, Travesties, imagines unlikely meetings involving author James Joyce, revolutionary Vladimir Lenin, and Dadaist poet Tristan Tzara.

Critics who had accused Stoppard of lacking emotion had to eat their words when he premiered Arcadia in 1993. He followed that up with other successes, including the three-part epic The Coast of Utopia, the deeply personal Rock 'n' Roll, and most recently the sprawling Leopoldstadt. All of those plays re-imagine historical events in intensely theatrical ways, something Joseph tries to do in Archduke.

While I didn't find Archduke up to the standards of some of Joseph's other plays like Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, it clearly has ambition, and I have to applaud it for that. The play portrays Gavrillo Princip, the assassin whose bullets ultimately started the First World War. Rather than directly portray the farcical manner in which that assassination unfolded, Joseph shows what happened before the fateful day.

Newcomer Jake Berne plays Princip, but the real star of the play is Patrick Page, who plays Dragutin Dimitrijevic, leader of the Black Hand Society. Page's fast past, sharp wit, and impeccable timing would make him perfect for a role in a Stoppard play. How sad we'll never get another one again.

Sunday, January 7, 2024

MLA in Philadelphia

Sunday was the last day of the Modern Language Association's annual convention, held this year in Philadelphia. I delivered a paper on Lord Byron and modern drama, and also presided at a session on Charles Dickens and D.H. Lawrence.

The first session I attended was on Byron's legacy. Sadly, none of the panelists talked much about Byron's dramas, but Ghislaine Gaye McDayter gave an interesting talk on his poem "The Waltz" and Matt Sandler discussed the influence of "She Walks in Beauty" on the poem "Harlem Shadows" by Claude McKay.

Later in the afternoon, I went to a session on Eugene O'Neill, so there was much more discussion of drama. Bess Rowen spoke, comparing the stage directions in O'Neill's The Emperor Jones with those in Marita Bonner's The Purple Flower. Next, Nicole Tabor made some interesting comments on the representation of Standard Oil in A Moon for the Misbegotten. Reagan Venturi gave a comparison between O'Neill's Long Day's Journey Into Night and the Tracy Letts play August: Osage County. The last speaker, Donald Gagnon, compared O'Neill with August Wilson.

Friday morning, I delivered my paper, beginning with an overview of Byron's reception during the Victorian era, and then looking at his impact on 20th- and 21st-century dramatists. O'Neill, of course, was one of the playwrights to be strongly impacted by Byron, and his play A Touch of the Poet quotes Byron numerous times. Romulus Linney put Byron on stage as the opium-induced hallucination of his daughter in Childe Byron, and Howard Brenton portrayed him with other Romantics in Bloody Poetry. Byron appears as an off-stage character in Tom Stoppard's play Arcadia, and more recently, he provided the namesake of Johnny "Rooster" Byron in Jez Butterworth's Jerusalem.

After my session, I was able to catch a panel on "Disabling Environments of the Romantic Era." Unfortunately, there wasn't much talk about Romantic drama, but Diana Little made some nice observations on the sonnets of Charlotte Smith, and Jane Kim linked the Korean poet Yun Dong-Ju with Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein. Next, I went to a session on Victorian gaslighting inspired by Patrick Hamilton's play Gaslight. After that, I attended an interesting panel on Pan-European Romanticism, which included Jonathan Gross talking about Alexander Pushkin, Martin Prochazka discussing the Czech poet K.H. Macha, Andra Bailard comparing Byron and George Sand, and and Omar Miranda speaking on Madame de Staël.

While Dickens and Lawrence both wrote plays, there wasn't much talk about their dramas at the convention. Still, I very much enjoyed a panel on Lawrence and Affect sponsored by the D.H. Lawrence Society of North America. That organization co-sponsored with the Dickens Society the panel I presided at on Saturday morning. Bridget Chalk and Tara Moore both gave excellent papers. Unfortunately, Holly Laird was ill and wasn't able to come, but I read her abstract for her, along with Lawrence's poem "Dreams Old" which mentions characters from David Copperfield.

It's been a while since I last attended the MLA convention, but I enjoyed seeing people I knew as well as meeting new folks.

Wednesday, December 28, 2022

Best Plays of 2022

As the end of the year approaches, I am once again making my list of the best productions I saw in New York City that opened this year.

If I were being just, I would include My Fellow Americans due to the amazing performance of Rebecca Ana Peña, but as the play's author, I'm probably a bit too close to it, so I'm disqualifying it.

Also disqualified is the virtual production of Kew Gardens as well as the live and virtual versions of A Christmas Carol at Passage Theatre Company. They weren't in New York City, anyway, nor were the productions of King Lear and Only Fools and Horses I saw in London.

Last year was rather lackluster in New York, though a couple good shows rose to the top of my list, including The Alchemist and The Streets of New York. It seems 2022 wasn't quite the year that theatre in this city got back into full swing, but at least there were a lot more good shows opening than there were in 2021.

So without further ado, here is my top-ten list in reverse order:

10. Cymbeline - New York Classical Theatre's outdoor production of Cymbeline was a blast, in large part due to Aziza Gharib, who played the show's heroine, Imogine.

9. Richard II - Another enjoyable outdoor production of Shakespeare was Hudson Classical Theater Company's Richard II at the Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument in Riverside Park. Nathan Mattingly played the title role.

8. Made By God - Ciara Ni Chuirc's new play that opened at Irish Rep at the beginning of this year has stayed with me. This meditation on the changing law regarding abortion in Ireland doesn't run away from tough issues of faith and society's shared responsibility for all of its members.

7. As You Like It - Generally, this is one of my least favorite Shakespeare plays, but Shaina Taub and Laurie Woolery's musical adaptation was a delight this summer in Central Park. The songs perfectly captured the goofy, conflicted nature of the play's characters. I'd like to see regional theatres pick this one up for the future.

6. Ohio State Murders - Adrienne Kennedy finally made her Broadway debut this year, with help from the star power of Audra McDonald. Playing Suzanne Alexander, a fictionalized version of the playwright herself, McDonald takes us on a harrowing journey where small things take on terrifying aspects by pointing toward much darker ends. (Still playing!)

5. Candida - Gingold Theatrical Group's magnificent production of one of Bernard Shaw's most delightful comedies did not disappoint. Avanthika Srinivasan starred in the title role, while R.J. Foster and Avery Whitted played the two very different men who are in love with her. The production also featured the best set I saw in New York all year, wonderfully crafted by Lindsay Genevieve Fuori.

4. A Touch of the Poet - Irish Rep scored another hit with their revival of Eugene O'Neill's powerful exploration of one moment in American history. Robert Cuccioli was brilliant as Con Melody, but the real discovery was Belle Aykroyd, who played Con's daughter Sara. I'll have a full analysis of the production coming out next year in The Eugene O'Neill Review. The author never saw the play performed in his lifetime, but I think he would have appreciated this staging of it.

3. Downstate - In the past, I've not been a fan of the work of Bruce Norris, but Downstate, still playing through January 7th at Playwrights Horizons, deserves to be seen. The cast, including Glenn Davis, K. Todd Freeman, and Francis Guinan as convicted sex offenders living together in a group home in downstate Illinois while overseen by a parole officer (portrayed brilliantly by Susanna Guzman), is absolutely excellent. Even more important, though, is the way Norris interrogates a culture of victimhood and portrays what it might look like for people to truly take responsibility for their actions.

2. Leopoldstadt - Tom Stoppard's latest play is more conventional than most of his work, but it packs an emotional wallop, especially in these times of rising ethnic nationalism. I spoke about the production on CUNY TV, sharing my long-time love of Stoppard's plays. Though the storytelling is mostly straightforward, its enormous cast of characters would be impossible to follow were it not for the deft direction of Patrick Marber, who makes sure we understand the steady march of time through the most terrifying decades of the 20th century. Tickets are currently on sale until the beginning of July, so if you haven't seen it yet, go.

1. Paradise Square - My top choice will no doubt be controversial, but in spite of its many problems, Larry Kirwan's reimagining of Five Points during the infamous Civil War draft riots captured what contemporary theatre can be if it has the courage to try. Choreographer Bill T. Jones did an exceptional job, and Joaquina Kalukango brought down the house singing the brilliant number "Let It Burn." The music, which is inspired by the work of Stephen Foster, deserves the cast recording we've been promised, but alas, the financial mismanagement of producers could mean this show never again sees the light of day. That would be a shame, as it deserves a much larger audience than it received during its abbreviated run on Broadway.

Here's to an even better year in 2023!

Thursday, November 17, 2022

LEOPOLDSTADT Episode Airs Tomorrow

Tomorrow THEATER: All the Moving Parts on CUNY TV will be airing an episode on Tom Stoppard's new play Leopoldstadt featuring some commentary by yours truly.

The show will also feature Faye Castelow, Arty Froushan and Brendan Uranowitz, three of the 38 cast members in the play. Host Patrick Pacheco interviews them about the challenges of bringing Leopoldstadt to life. He also speaks to veteran Stoppard director Jack O'Brien and me about the writer's theatrical legacy.

You can catch the show tomorrow at 9:30 pm. It will then re-air on Saturday at 7:30 am and 3:30 pm, Sunday at 6:30 am, and then Monday at 7:00 am, 1:00 pm, and 11:00 pm. CUNY TV is available on NYC Metro 25.3, Spectrum/Optimum 75, RCN 77, and Verizon FiOS 30. If you've disconnected from cable, you can watch the show on its YouTube channel.

It was great fun filming the show. They were also kind enough to mention my new book Romantic Actors, Romantic Dramas which is now available both in hardcover and as an ebook. The ISBN for the print book is 978-3-031-13709-9 and for the ebook is 978-3-031-13710-5. It runs 233 pages and includes images of Regency actors including Sarah Siddons, Julia Glover, Edmund Kean, and Eliza O'Neill.

Unfortunately, in spite of being a finalist for the Dramatists Guild Foundation Fellows, I was not named as one of the fellows this year. However, the DGF has now named the fellows for this cycle: Aaron Coleman, Nicholas Connors, Joriah Kwamé, Matthew Libby, Zizi Majid, Julián Mesri, Gloria Oladipo, April Dae Okpwae, and SMJ. Congratulations to them all!

Wednesday, October 26, 2022

Airing Next Month

As I wrote in a previous blog post, I was recently interviewed by Patrick Pacheco for his program on CUNY TV, THEATER: All the Moving Parts.

We spoke about the playwright Tom Stoppard, whose play Leopoldstadt is currently running on Broadway. Jack O'Brien, who directed Stoppard's epic drama The Coast of Utopia, was also a guest for the program.

The episode will air on Friday, November 18th, at 9:30pm. You can watch the show on Spectrum / Optimum 75, Antenna 25.3, RCN 77, or Verizon FiOS 30. Don't get any of those? You can check out the show's website, or go to YouTube to watch it streaming live.

THEATER: All the Moving Parts regularly airs the third Friday of the month at 9:30 pm, then re-airs on Saturday at 7:30 am and 3:30 pm, Sunday at 6:30 am, and then Monday at 7:00 am, 1:00 pm, and 11:00 pm. That means if you miss it, there should be other opportunities.

Please do tune in, though, for a fascinating conversation about Stoppard, one of the world's greatest living playwrights.

Wednesday, October 19, 2022

Staging History

Last week, I saw two different plays that staged historical events for a modern audience: Leopoldstadt by Tom Stoppard and Susan B. by Toby Armour.

Leopoldstadt
is currently playing on Broadway in a production directed by Patrick Marber, who staged a wonderful revival of Stoppard's Travesties in 2018. It tells a multi-generational epic saga about a family of assimilated Jews in Vienna beginning in 1899 and continuing into the 1950s.

Marber has assembled a crack ensemble cast, including Sara Topham (who played Cecily in Travesties), as well as Brandon Uranowitz, who plays the mathematician Ludwig in Leopoldstadt, and Caissie Levy, who plays his wife Eva. Though Ludwig and Eva have remained true to their Jewish faith, Eva's brother Hermann has converted to Christianity and married a gentile.

As darkness descends following the Great War, Hermann's assimilation will not be enough to save him. Much of the play's power comes from the dramatic irony of the audience knowing what's coming while the characters do not. Austria, after being defeated, is annexed by Germany, and as most of the family either cannot or will not leave, they are doomed to die in concentration camps.

Susan B. is a completely different type of play: smaller, sleeker, and much more optimistic. Directed by Joan Kane, it starred Kathleen Moore as the famous suffrage activist Susan B. Anthony. It's too bad that the show is closed now. (I caught the last performance at Theatre for a New City.) The piece featured live piano music by composer Peter Dizozza, and in addition to the veteran actor Moore, it included the relative newcomer Elizabeth McBryde, shining in the ensemble in a variety of small roles.

What both plays have in common is their effort to process history from the standpoint of knowing those things the characters do not. We see the connections bringing everything together, even as the characters see only random events. In Leopoldstadt, Ludwig relates this to a game of Cat's Cradle in which the string has three knots. The relationship of the three knots in space is constantly changing. If you can only see the knots, you have no idea how or why, but if you understand what's happening with the string, each shift is entirely predictable.

For us stuck inside of history, those of us who are the knots, the forces that pull on us are largely a mystery. Susan B. Anthony could no more predict the future of U.S. politics than the hapless businessmen and intellectuals in Leopoldstadt could foresee the destruction of their entire way of life. That's a sobering thought as we head into a very consequential mid-term election.

Friday, October 14, 2022

Talkin' Stoppard on CUNY TV

This morning, I filmed a segment for the CUNY TV show THEATER: All The Moving Parts with host Patrick Pacheco and special guest director Jack O'Brien.

We were discussing Tom Stoppard, whose play Leopoldstadt is currently on Broadway at the Longacre Theatre. I saw the show last night, and it's pretty amazing.

This morning I talked about my own experience as a theatre historian and teacher of drama. Joining us remotely was O'Brien, who has directed numerous Stoppard plays in the past, including the Broadway production of The Coast of Utopia, which starred Billy Crudup, Ethan Hawke, Martha Plimpton, and Amy Irving, among others.

While I'm not sure when this segment will run, Pacheco's show usually airs on Friday night at 9:30 pm, with additional showings on Saturday at 7:30 am and 3:30 pm, on Sunday at 6:30 am, and then on Monday at 7:00 am, 1:00 pm,  and 11:00 pm. CUNY TV is broadcast on NYC Metro channel 25.3, Spectrum/Optimum channel 75, RCN channel 77, and Verizon FiOS channel 30.

Tune in if you can!

Thursday, December 31, 2020

Top Shows (that I missed) in 2020

In past Decembers, I have come up with a list of the best shows I saw that opened in New York City that year. Well, for 2020, that list would have to be pretty short.

Sure, I could talk about Blessed Unrest's Battle of Angels, and Irish Rep's Lady G, and end with Roundabout's standout production of A Soldier's Play, but for the most part, 2020 was a total loss when it came to live theatre.

Instead, I'm going to write about ten shows I missed, plays I was looking forward to seeing live, but couldn't experience because massive government incompetence turned a completely predictable (and predicted) outbreak into the worst health crisis since the influenza of 1918-1920.

This year was supposed to be one of world travel for me, rather than confinement to mostly just four small rooms. That's why my list is not restricted to just New York City this year. Here are ten shows I should have seen, would have seen, and likely would have loved, had it not been for the dumpster fire of 2020:

10. A Touch of the Poet. Okay, this one is partially my fault, since Irish Rep went ahead and produced this Eugene O'Neill play digitally. I was looking forward to seeing it live, though, and Zoom fatigue combined with the added work of trying to teach classes online meant that I missed the virtual performance. I still blame 2020.

9. Hangmen. Was Martin McDonough's latest play going to be a masterpiece? Maybe. Maybe not. But New York never got to find out, because it was still in previews when COVID-19 shut down theatres. Some shows vowed to reopen once the crisis passed, but as it became clear that the shutdown would last for weeks and then months, producers had to pull the plug on this one.

8. Man of La Mancha. The Astoria Performing Arts Center had planned a revival of this classic musical, to be directed by Dev Bondarin, whose work I've always loved. Fortunately, APAC is still going, though other theatre companies have been forced to fold. Theatre in Queens took a big hit when the Secret Theatre announced its closure this year. The one bright spot is that APAC will be taking over the space they've vacated.

7. As You Like It. The Public Theater has experienced tremendous success with its Public Works productions in Central Park, bringing together professional artists and amateurs in a celebration of all that's great about New York City. Shaina Taub did an excellent job composing music for 2019's production of Twelfth Night, and I was looking forward to hearing her score for As You Like It. It looks like I'll have to wait a bit longer now.

6. Richard II. The Shakespeare in the Park production I was really looking forward to seeing this year, though, was Richard II. Though I've seen multiple filmed versions of the play this is the only one in the Shakespeare canon I've never experienced live. After the shutdown, director Saheem Ali organized a radio version of the piece that aired on WNYC. You can listen to each of the four episodes, which are available as podcasts, though it's certainly not the same thing.

5. The Prince of Egypt. After attending a Shaw conference in Spain this May, I was supposed to spend some time with my sister in London. She had already gotten us tickets to see the stage adaptation of Stephen Schwartz's The Prince of Egypt at the Dominion Theatre. The movie was delightful, and the score does seem to lend itself to a stage transfer, so I was looking forward to seeing how it works on stage, as well as spending some time with my sister. Instead, I've only been able to see her virtually this year.

4. Leopoldstadt. Even more exciting than The Prince of Egypt was the other show my sister had gotten us tickets to see. Tom Stoppard's new play Leopoldstadt opened this January in a production directed by Patrick Marber, who had done such a brilliant job directing Stoppard's Travesties. Of all the shows playing in London this year, this was the one I really, really wanted to see. It tells the stories of members of the Jewish community in Vienna during the first half of the 20th century. We had tickets, but now I don't know if I'll ever have a chance to see it.

3. The Devil's Disciple. Though the Shaw conference in Spain was cancelled due to COVID-19, I briefly entertained hopes of attending another Shaw conference in Niagara-on-the-Lake in Canada. Instead, that conference went virtual, and the Shaw Festival decided to postpone its summer season for the summer of 2021. That means I might still get a chance to see the Shaw play they were supposed to do this year, The Devil's Disciple. Incidentally, Gingold Theatrical Group had planned to produce the same play this autumn. Will it be possible in 2021? We're still not sure.

2. Great Expectations. This play isn't an adaptation of the work by Charles Dickens, though I would have been excited about that, too. No, this Great Expectations is a reworking of my own short play The Rainbow, but for two older actors. A friend of mine, Ellen DiStasi, approached me earlier this year about doing The Rainbow with Theater of Light, which brings live drama to communities of older folks here in New York. Ellen asked if I could update the script to be performed by more mature actors, so a woman who had recently had a break-up became a widow, and there were a few other changes as well. The biggest thing, though, was that Ellen wasn't sure that a long monologue about a D.H. Lawrence novel would work for her target audience, so I changed it to a monologue about Great Expectations instead, which naturally changed the title of the play as well. I'd love to be able to do this show in 2021, but a play performed by members of a vulnerable community for other members of a vulnerable community....

1. The Love Songs of Brooklynites. I've been working on a full-length version of my one-act play that was workshopped in 2019 at the Theatre of Western Springs. Meanwhile, the one-act version was accepted for the theatre trail at the Arundel Festival of the Arts in the United Kingdom. The Drip Action Theatre Company in Arundel says they want to do the show this upcoming year. That would be wonderful. Though I've had my work performed in Canada, Australia, and even Japan, I've never had a production in the U.K., and Arundel looks like an amazing place to visit. Perhaps I'll be able to go this August and see it. Whether that happens or not, I'm still holding out hope for the full-length version of The Love Songs of Brooklynites to have a New York production once the theatres reopen. That means we're all going to have to wear masks, limit unnecessary travel, and get vaccinated. It also means that the government needs to get its act together and actually distribute and administer the vaccines being produced. Only then are we going to be able to have great theatre back.

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Postmodernism

Just as the failed revolutions of 1848 brought about the climax and end of Romantic movements across Europe, the year 1968 brought a climax of the dreams and ambitions of the entire world in the post-war era, as well as the collapse of those dreams for very many.

In January of that year, the Prague Spring began in Czechoslovakia, when the liberal reformer Alexander Dubček became head of the country's Communist Party, promising "Socialism with a human face" and lifting censorship. The wave of liberalization led to uprisings in Poland and other Eastern European countries, as more and more people sought liberation from the oppressive policies of the past.

In the United States, Robert Kennedy launched a campaign for president that drew millions of young, idealistic voters. Meanwhile, his ally Martin Luther King Jr. was leading a civil rights movement that continued to be peaceful, in spite of provocations by white supremacists.

But if the year promised freedom, what it ultimately delivered was death. The bloody Tet Offensive in Vietnam left a huge number of casualties. Both King and Kennedy were assassinated. Student protests in Paris devolved into riots that failed to bring about meaningful political change. Across the United States, many cities were literally burning with social strife, and authorities tried only to contain the violence, unable (and in the view of many observers, unwilling) to stop it.

The Prague Spring collapsed, and days later, so did the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, as police clashed with anti-war protestors. The subsequent election of Richard Nixon as President of the United States and installment of Soviet tanks throughout Eastern Europe ensured that violence, repression, and decay would continue.

Though the following year, 1969, saw the first human beings land on the moon, what should have been a victory for all humanity came in the wake of so much chaos that many people were unsure of what humanity's future would really be. Modernism, which had thrived after World War II, seemed hopelessly naïve with its optimism of unending horizons and positive change.

Instead, art from around 1970 on is sometimes labelled postmodern, since it embraces skepticism and irony rather than grand gestures and sweeping narratives. Postmodern art engages with art from the past, but in a way that is eclectic, borrowing snatches and pieces of past art, but deliberately not synthesizing it together into a unified, comprehensive whole. The very notion of totality or universalism becomes a bitter joke in the hands of postmodern artists.

Postmodernism can be seen in architecture, for instance the AT&T skyscraper in New York which is topped by a non-functional broken pediment. It can be seen in photography, for instance in the work of Cindy Sherman, whose "Untitled Film Stills" series shows the photographer herself dressed up in various costumes, looking like she is in a series fictional movies. Postmodern sculptors like Jeff Koons use grand techniques to immortalize items of kitsch, producing such objects as giant stainless steel balloon animals. 

Perhaps the defining element of postmodernism is its unwillingness (and perhaps inability) to get away from the past it always confronts. The postmodern feminist artist Judy Chicago spent years assembling "The Dinner Party" which includes 39 place settings at a giant triangular table, each place setting painstakingly handcrafted to honor a different woman from history, including the playwrights Hrotsvitha, Hildegard of Bingen, and Virginia Woolf.

In theatre, postmodernism can be seen in the work of such playwrights as Tom Stoppard, Heiner Müller, and Janusz Glowacki, each of whom wrote plays that deconstruct the most famous work in the dramatic canon: William Shakespeare's Hamlet. Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead premiered at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 1966, shifting the play's center of attention from Hamlet to two minor characters. The play's dialogue is deeply influenced by the work of Samuel Beckett, but its playfulness marks it as a work of postmodern drama rather than the serious modernism practiced by Beckett. Müller's 1977 play Hamletmachine goes even further in its rejection of the conventions of drama, questioning even the importance of an author at all. In 1982, Glowacki premiered Fortinbras Gets Drunk, which takes a Stoppard-like approach of focusing on a minor character from Hamlet, but to probe political issues as much as existential ones. All three writers went on to create other postmodern works, including Stoppard's Travesties, which reworks Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest, Müller's Quartet based on the Pierre Choderlos de Laclos novel Dangerous Liaisons, and Glowacki's The Fourth Sister, which sends up Chekhov.

The British writer Harold Pinter was a close associate of Beckett, and his early works, The Birthday Party, The Caretaker, and The Homecoming, all exhibit the anxieties of post-war theatre of the absurd. Dubbed "comedies of menace," these plays rely on seemingly mundane dialogue and pregnant pauses to create an atmosphere of dread that reflected the unspoken horror of the new nuclear age. In the 1970s, though, Pinter turned in a new direction. Influenced by the postmodern turn toward skepticism and questioning, Pinter wrote a series of plays that retained the sometimes comic and sometimes tragic atmosphere of his earlier plays, but that delved into the nature of memory of past events. In Old Times, three people tell stories about their past together, sometimes revising their versions of the story, and sometimes contradicting the versions of other characters. Pinter's 1975 play No Man's Land depicts two older men recalling their past lives together, but the piece gets us to not only question whether the two men ever met in the past, but also whether the men themselves know the truth. One of Pinter's most commercially successful works, Betrayal, tells the story of a marital affair, but in reverse chronological order, from end to beginning.


Another postmodern British playwright, Caryl Churchill, first rose to prominence with Cloud 9, an attack on Victorian colonialism and sexual repression that implies a link between the two. Her 1982 play Top Girls utilized overlapping dialogue and out-of-chronology scenes to critique the way women sacrifice themselves and one another to get ahead in the world. Written in the wake of the election of the rightwing politician Margaret Thatcher as the first female prime minister of the United Kingdom, the play celebrates feminism while at the same time critiquing it. Churchill's work sometimes appropriates figures from folk belief to discuss contemporary issues, as is the case in Mad Forest and The Skriker, but the hallmark of her plays is an unending drive to experiment. Her fragmented 2012 play Love and Information contains more than 100 characters in dozens of scenes, many of them less than a minute long.


One manifestation of postmodernism in drama has been the so-called Theatre of Images. While most traditional theatre has been concerned with language (one of the six elements of drama laid out by Aristotle), the Theatre of Images replaces linguistic texts with a procession of images that are not necessarily aligned with any verbal meaning. Directors such as Richard Foreman, Lee Breuer, and Robert Wilson are often identified as artists working in a Theatre of Images rather than a theatre of words. Foreman is influenced by modernist writers like Gertrude Stein, but he has also tried to make audience members active participants in the creation of theatre, as he did with his 1976 play Rhoda in Potatoland. He frequently directs plays with non-professional actors, preferring their simplistic expressions over the mannered performances of trained actors.

Breuer co-founded the avant-garde Mabou Mines Theater Company in 1970 (together with JoAnne Akalaitis, Philip Glass, Ruth Maleczech, Frederick Neumann, and David Warrilow). With Mabou Mines, he has re-imagined numerous classic plays from the canon. His production of Gospel at Colonus used gospel music to re-introduce the feeling of the sacred into Sophocles' play Oedipus at Colonus. Breuer's production of Henrik Ibsen's A Doll House portrayed Nora as physically towering over the men in the play, accentuating the absurdity of her situation. His production of Peter and Wendy used Japanese-style puppetry techniques to tell the story of Peter Pan, and has played to adult and child audiences alike.

The term Theatre of Images is perhaps most associated with Wilson, who borrows from different media, cultures, and historical time periods to create eclectic pieces of theatre that usually have no discernible plot. He collaborated with the composer Philip Glass to create the 1976 opera Einstein on the Beach. Because of the length of the opera (more than five hours with no intermission) audience members were invited to come and go as they pleased, selecting which parts they chose to pay attention to and which parts to ignore. For the 1984 Summer Olympic Games in Los Angeles, Wilson planned a massive 12-hour-long performance called the CIVIL warS: A Tree Is Best Measured When It Is Down, but the Olympic Arts Festival cancelled it. Since then, Wilson has frequently worked outside of the United States.

Some scholars have labeled the Theatre of Images as postdramatic, since it eschews plot in favor of creating an overall mood or feeling. Rather than creating a narrative that tells a story, postdramatic theatre focuses on physical phenomena that audiences experience directly. While this style of theatre has its roots with modernist playwrights like Beckett, as well as postmodern writers like Müller, Pinter, and Churchill, it attempts to outgrow the playwright entirely. It renders the text as merely one component of a performance, and usually not even a very important one. Postdramatic performance stretches theatre to its limits, and because of that, most audiences have tended to avoid it, opting instead for more commercial theatrical ventures.

Sunday, April 7, 2019

Gary

This afternoon, I saw Taylor Mac's new play Gary: A Sequel to Titus Andronicus. If you haven't seen it yet, oh yes, there will be camp.

Not that there was ever any doubt. Mac's plays are filled with high camp, and with a cast including Nathan Lane, Kristine Nielsen, and Julie White, we know we're in for some shockingly comedic performances.

Titus Andronicus is the bloodiest tragedy William Shakespeare ever wrote, and taking a cue from Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, Mac takes a minor victim in Shakespeare's slaughter and builds an entirely new play around him.

That character is the clown, a term that in Shakespeare's day generally referred to a foolish rustic person, not necessarily to a white-faced entertainer. In Titus Andronicus the clown comes in with a basket of pigeons, and Titus asks him if there are any tidings from the god Jupiter. After a few jokes, Titus convinces the clown to carry a message to the emperor, and wraps a knife in the letter.

Of course, delivering a letter with a knife in it isn't the most polite thing to do, and the emperor orders the clown hanged. In Mac's version, however, the clown (whose name we learn is Gary) escapes and gets a job as a maid, cleaning up the mess after the latest blood-filled coup. Santo Loquasto's set design features mounds of bodies and body parts, which Gary and his fellow maid are tasked with tidying up a bit.

Body humor abounds, but the play isn't just after laughs. By implication, Mac asks us to consider our responses to all mass slaughters and political disasters, including increasingly frequent school shootings and a failure of allegedly democratic systems to prevent the rise of tyrants.

Director George C. Wolfe keeps the tastelessness classy, and Danny Elfman provides a wickedly dark score. If you're interested in learning more, check out the show's website.

Monday, December 31, 2018

Top Plays of 2018


Each December, I compile a list of the top plays I saw that opened that year in New York City. Last year, Sweeney Todd, HOME/SICK, and Julius Caesar topped the list.

This year both Roundabout Theatre Company and the Public Theater have multiple shows on my list. Playwrights William Shakespeare and George Bernard Shaw get multiple nods as well.

So without further ado, here’s my list:

10. Romeo and Juliet – Each year, New York Classical Theatre Company puts on free productions in the city’s parks. This summer’s production of Shakespeare’s classic tale about star-crossed lovers used innovative doubling to tell a familiar story in a memorable new way.

9. Heartbreak House – Gingold Theatrical Group makes the list this year with another innovative adaptation of a classic. This re-imagining of Shaw’s chestnut about Europe during World War I was reset as a play-within-a-play during the London Blitz, which worked quite well.

8. Love’s Labour’s Lost – This Shake & Bake production combines the Bard’s romantic comedy with a five-course tasting menu. The actors do a wonderful job creating magical moments in a pared-down production in the Meatpacking District. The food is tasty, but it’s the acting that is truly delicious.

7. Stories by Heart – So, what is this thing? That’s what John Lithgow quipped at the beginning of his one-man show about the stories his father read to him as a child. Ordinarily, I don’t go in for one person plays, but Lithgow’s mixture of personal memoir with classic storytelling won me over in the end.

6. Othello – Not everyone loved the Public Theatre’s production of Othello this summer at the Delacorte, but I found Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s direction to be superb. The relationship between Iago and Rodrigo was particularly fascinating to me, and Chukwudi Iwuji did a great job playing the title role.

5. Mother of the Maid – The Public Theatre scored another hit with Jane Anderson’s new play Mother of the Maid about the family of Joan of Arc. The piece was marketed as a vehicle for Glenn Close, who played Isabelle Arc, but Anderson’s play tells the story from an interesting perspective, and would be worth seeing even without Close’s star power.

4. Bernhardt/Hamlet – As a fan of both Sarah Bernhardt and William Shakespeare, I knew I had to see this show. This is probably Theresa Rebeck’s best play to date, and the cast was superb. Janet McTeer was deservedly praised as Bernhardt, but Dylan Baker was also wonderful as the legendary French actor Constant Coquelin, and Jason Butler gave a memorable portrayal of the playwright Edmond Rostand.

3. Pygmalion – Bedlam theatre company’s productions are sometimes hit-or-miss, but they are generally memorable even when they don’t entirely succeed. This year’s re-imagining of Shaw’s most popular play definitely qualifies as a hit, though. The immersive first act led into an exploration of not just class, but also race, ethnicity, and assimilation, all in the frantic Bedlam style in which performers play multiple characters to hilarious effect.

2. Twelfth Night – What happened to musicals this year? All of my top ten picks were straight plays this year, with the exception of Shaina Taub’s musical adaptation of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, which she co-created with director Kwame Kwei-Armah as part of the Public Works program, but came back in a new production this summer as a part of the regular Shakespeare in the Park season. Taub’s songs are inspired by Shakespeare’s text, but not usually direct settings of his poetry, in spite of the fact that Twelfth Night already contains multiple songs. Her lyrics fit in with the Bard’s play beautifully, and her performance as Feste was equally delightful.

1. Travesties – To me, the most delightful production this year, however, was Roundabout’s revival of Tom Stoppard’s play Travesties. As a playwright, I’ve always admired Stoppard’s skill in weaving together the stories of James Joyce, Vladimir Lenin, and Tristan Tzara into a rollicking farce that also makes us think and feel in new ways. Perhaps because this production was directed by a fellow playwright, Patrick Marber, it was able to encompass both the profundity and goofiness of Stoppard’s writing. A cast that included Tom Hollander, Scarlett Strallen, and Sara Topham also seemed exceptionally sympathetic to Stoppard’s ambitious vision.

So that’s my list. Here’s to an even better year of New York theatre in 2019!

Saturday, April 7, 2018

Travesties

Last night, I saw Roundabout Theatre Company's production of Tom Stoppard's wonderful play Travesties.

The play is an extremely witty farce Stoppard wrote after reading a biography of James Joyce. Stoppard was fascinated by a brief account of Joyce taking part in a production of Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest in Zurich, Switzerland during the First World War.

Peter McDonald plays Joyce in this production, and pulls off both the ridiculous sight gags and the occasional magic trick Stoppard's script requires him to perform. The protagonist of the play, however, is not Joyce, but Henry Carr, who worked for the British Consulate at the time and was recruited to play the lead in Earnest. (As Travesties mentions repeatedly, the lead is not Earnest, but "the other one.")

Tom Hollander plays Carr, and it's easy to see why he received an Olivier Award nomination when he played the role in London. (This production, directed by Patrick Marber, was originally done at the Menier Chocolate Factory, which previously transferred a revival of Sunday in the Park with George to Roundabout.) Carr begins the play as an old man, remembering not just Joyce, but also the communist revolutionary Vladimir Lenin and the dadaist poet Tristan Tzara, who as it so happens, were also in Zurich at the same time as Joyce.

Dan Butler plays Lenin, and Seth Numrich plays the monocle-wearing Tzara, who flirts wildly with a young woman named Gwendolyn (who by chance has been helping Joyce as he writes Ulysses). Gwendolyn is not a historical figure, and her resemblance to the character of the same name in The Importance of Being Earnest is not coincidental. As the play proceeds, we quickly perceive that Carr has gotten quite a bit mixed up in his head, and his memories cannot be entirely relied upon. Scarlett Strallen, who plays Gwendolyn, can more than be relied upon, however. An alumna of such farcical comedies as A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, she's very much in her element in Travesties.

The same is also true of Sara Topham, who plays the librarian Cecily, another character who appears to have walked out of The Importance of Being Earnest and into Carr's memory. Topham played the title role in Saint Joan at the Shaw Festival in Niagara-on-the-Lake last summer, and she was also quite memorable as Beatrice-Joanna in Red Bull's production of The Changeling the year before that. In Travesties, she shows remarkable versatility, performing a racy table-top dance in Carr's imagination, and then later appearing as an old woman who helps to set the historical record straight.

Tickets for Travesties are on sale through the middle of June, so book now. It's rare to get a chance to see this Stoppard gem, and even more rare to see it performed this well!


Friday, April 22, 2016

Puffs

Last night I saw Matt Cox's wonderful play Puffs, or: seven increasingly eventful years at a certain school of magic and magic. This hilarious spoof of the Harry Potter series, told from the point of view of the school's least talented students, is oddly affecting, and definitely worth going to see.

In fandom, House Hufflepuff has been the butt of a number of jokes, but this show embraces the fact that not all of us are brave of smart or ambitious. Some people just plod along, never far from the kitchens, staying out of trouble and trying to do the right thing. As the play maintains, there's nothing wrong with that.

The plot follows Wayne Hopkins (played by Zac Moon), whose parents died, leaving him to be brought up by an uncle. One day an owl arrives with news that Wayne has been accepted to a school for magic. Oops! His uncle forgot to tell him that his parents were wizards. Or that wizards exist. Like Brian in a certain Mony Python film, Wayne then stumbles through a series of adventures in which some other kid named Harry seems to always get credit.

Like Harry, Wayne forms his own trio, including Oliver (played by Langston Belton), a math genius who can't seem to get the hang of this magic thing, and the self-proclaimed outsider Megan (played by Julie Ann Earls), who wants desperately to be bad-ass, but underneath it all is quite a nice person. They constantly cross paths with that other trio, much like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern bumping into characters from Hamlet in Tom Stoppard's famous play.

With a cast of eleven actors performing multiple roles, Puffs gives everyone a chance to shine. Particularly notable are the former stars of The Flea Theater's Smoke, Madeleine Bundy (who plays Harry as well as the perpetually terrified Susie Bones) and Stephen Stout (who does a spot-on Alan Rickman impression as Professor Snape).

Kristin McCarthy Parker does a wonderful job directing the production, which includes some effective use of puppets to create a magical world within a bare-bones theater.

You can find out more information about the play here:

PUFFS


Saturday, March 22, 2014

Remembering Leslie Lee

Earlier this year, the American theatre lost an amazing playwright when Leslie Lee passed away at the age of 83.

I remember seeing Mr. Lee at the back of the audience when I went to see the Signature Theatre Company's production of The First Breeze of Summer. I wanted to go up to him and tell him how much I liked the play, but I was too shy. It was my loss.

The First Breeze of Summer premiered on Broadway in 1975. I missed it, as I was busy being born that year, but it was nominated for a Tony that season, losing out only to Tom Stoppard's Travesties, itself no shabby piece of work.

The play tells the story of a typical African-American family, but instead of revolving around race, it focuses on family relationships and and the disillusionment of youth. Racial issues are certainly in the play, and that is one of the things it is about, but it isn't the only thing it is about. Lee proved that African-American playwrights could speak eloquently about a number of issues, while still not losing sight of fundamental injustices in society.

I bring up Lee now because the Signature will be hosting a memorial service for him on Monday. I won't be able to make it, but if you want to go, the celebration of his life and career will be at 3:00. That evening, there will also be a reading of his play Legends to benefit The Leslie Lee Legacy Foundation.

For more information, go here:

Negro Ensemble Company

http://www.necinc.org/

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Notes on Farce

Traditionally, critics have tended to look down on farce, viewing it as a form of "low" comedy not worthy of much study. However, farce can also be an important tool for getting audiences to think about the world from different perspectives. Sometimes, farce might even be able to make intellectual arguments more effectively than "high" comedies, or even dramas.

Playwrights in the nineteenth century began to unlock some of the potential of farce, and in the twentieth century dramatists including Tom Stoppard brought intellectual farce fully into being. Stoppard's 1974 play Travesties, for example, exemplifies the fact that farce can be, and often is, a much more serious genre than its guffawing audiences might indicate.

The critic Jessica Davis defined farce as "broad, physical, visual comedy, whose effects are pre-eminently theatrical and intended solely to entertain." However, while farce is primarily intended to entertain, it is not accurate to say that its sole aim is entertainment. Farces might have any number of goals in addition to entertaining—such as criticizing misers, lampooning celebrities, or poking fun at old people. These goals are not generally considered lofty, and they are almost always subservient to the goal of entertainment. In fact, farce moves at such a fast pace that entertainment must always be at the forefront of a dramatist's mind, or the mechanics will cease to function.

In a later study of farce, Albert Bermel noted the potential of farcical comedy to make sophisticated political and philosophical arguments. Citing Aristophanes' play Lysistrata, he noted that a non-stop farce might contain social commentary that rivals "serious" plays like Henrik Ibsen's A Doll House. Looking back over the history of farce since Aristophanes, though, Bermel saw little progress being made prior to the twentieth century. In fact, he felt farce had aesthetically retreated since Aristophanes. "The journey had been long and roundabout, forward in time, backward in artistry," he wrote in his classic study appropriately titled Farce.

Some of the early farces on the European stage might seem to confirm Bermel's position. The anonymous thirteenth-century play Blindman and the Boy, for instance, conveys little other than a dubious moral that tricking old blind men is fun and profitable. Thomas Gueulette's eighteenth-century play The One-Armed, Blind Deaf-Mute shifts from making fun of the physically disabled to making fun of a mentally deficient servant. It is an improvement over its medieval counterpart in terms of polish and sophistication, but it still is not tackling great ideas. These short farces fall considerably short of the comedy of Aristophanes.

Over the course of the nineteenth century, however, farce advanced both in ambition and technical ability. Eugene Scribe's 1842 play The Glass of Water exemplifies many of these advancements. Though its plot turns on some of the same silly conceits that go back to short medieval farces, it is a full-length three-act play. Instead of focusing on low characters, it portrays nobles, members of parliament, and even the Queen of England. The action reaches a farcical crescendo, but with a tastefulness that was lacking in some of its predecessors.

The audience knows from the first scene that The Glass of Water inhabits a very different world from that of Blindman and the Boy or The One-Armed, Blind Deaf-Mute. Within the first few lines, the Marquis de Torcy remarks to Viscount Bolingbroke, "If you succeed, an honorable and glorious peace between England and France will be possible; if you fail... ah, well... God help us!" (I quote from the DeWitt Bodeen translation.) The stakes here are much higher than a few coins. As in Lysistrata, war and peace hang in the balance. The action might be farcical, but its consequences are deadly serious.

Soon afterward, however, the play shifts back to a more traditional mode of farce, as the lovesick Arthur Masham wanders on "dreaming of the most beautiful woman in the world." What follows is a combination of the erotic with the political. Like Aristophanes, Scribe shows how sexual maneuvering can outflank whole armies. The fate of nations rests on which lover pairs up with whom. As Bolingbroke admits, becoming a statesman results from knowing how to dance with the right woman. 

Lysistrata ultimately reduces the warring Athenians and Spartans to horny men pawing over the female figure of Reconciliation. As the play reaches its climax (presumably the goal of the delegates as well) all politics are reduced to ogling a naked woman. The Glass of Water takes that reductionism even further. The play hangs the fate of nations not on an objectified woman, but instead on an actual object, the titular glass of water. At the end of the second act, multiple plots and subplots come together and a single prop seems to seal the fates of nearly everyone in the play.

It would be going too far, however, to compare the politics of The Glass of Water with those of Lysistrata. First of all, Aristophanes wrote about a pressing political issue directly affecting his audience. Scribe, on the other hand, placed his play safely in the past so its politics would be detached from the issues of the present day. More importantly, while Lysistrata elevates sexual negotiations to the realm of global politics, The Glass of Water trivializes global politics by bringing them down to the world of sexual negotiation. After everything is sorted out in the third act, Queen Anne goes right back to coveting a handsome new ensign. The characters in Lysistrata have learned the value of peace, while the characters in The Glass of Water seem to have learned nothing.

Although The Glass of Water might not rise to the heights of Aristophanic comedy, it does represent an elevation in the aims of farce. It shows that Bermel was overstating his case when he concluded that the twentieth century had to break away "from the degeneration of Plautus' plots" and instead look to "Jarry, Grabbe, and the movies."

 In Scribe's day, nineteenth-century dramatists were already finding ways to inject serious concepts into farce. By the end of the century, literary figures were taking farce even further. A number of the serious works of the 1890s were also farcical (including some of the early works by G.B. Shaw cited by Bermel), but the one most relevant to Stoppard's Travesties is Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest.

There can be little doubt that The Importance of Being Earnest is a farce, a fact even Bermel was forced to admit. The play's pace becomes absolutely frenetic, and its comedy is so delightful, that it would seem to fit perfectly Davis's dictum that farce solely entertains. However, Wilde is interested in more than simply going through the motions of yet another piece on mixed-up identities. The play critiques the nature of identity itself. Its very title alludes to the importance of being a given person, yet characters swap names from beginning to end, revealing a world in which identity can never be entirely understood.

The malleability of identity in a modern classic was bound to draw the attention of a post-modern dramatist like Stoppard. Wilde's farce became particularly important for Stoppard when he read about a lawsuit involving James Joyce and a Zurich production of The Importance of Being Earnest. Stoppard was intrigued by the fact that at the same time Joyce was in Zurich, so were the revolutionary Vladimir Lenin and the Dadaist poet Tristan Tzara. To write a play based on those three men, Stoppard took on the dramatic form of Wilde's piece. In so doing, he created a work that is both unquestionably intellectual and unquestionably farcical. 

Travesties begins with a prologue in which Stoppard both introduces his characters and sets up the mechanics that will ultimately resolve the plot. Like The Glass of Water, the play uses a prop, or more specifically two props, as a centerpiece of the action. Lenin and Joyce accidentally exchange folders containing their respective manuscripts. Stoppard makes it explicit in the stage directions that the audience must observe the switch. Furthermore, he asks that special attention be drawn to the two folders, describing them as "eye-catching objects in some striking colour."

Through on-stage action Stoppard makes it perfectly clear to the audience what genre of play they will be watching. Plot mechanics are characteristic of farce, and Stoppard is drawing attention to those mechanics in a way that can only be comical.

The stage directions specify how the folders should look, but they note it is not important how they are swapped. All that is important is that the audience sees the switch. Stoppard not only sets up a farcical device, he signals that he is executing a set up.

The first act is filled with the broad, physical, and visual comedy Davis points to as a hallmark of farce. Joyce is not only an Irishman, he becomes the stereotypical Irishman, delivering his first lines after the prologue in the form of a Limerick. Tzara, who is described in a stage direction as "a Romanian nonsense" complete with ridiculous monocle, not only looks like a comic type, he engages in classic physical comedy, inadvertently switching his monocle to the wrong eye after he makes out with Gwendolen.

The play also revels in sight gags, such as Joyce coming out covered in scraps of paper that Tzara has placed in his hat. As the first act approaches a close, these gags become even more ridiculous, with Joyce performing a series of magic tricks using the hat.

All of this has a natural explanation, in that the play is the imperfect recollections of an aging former diplomat, Henry Carr. Carr announces at the end of the first act that he got his "wires crossed a bit here and there." However, Carr's senility is yet another farcical device. Stage directions describe the story as occasionally jumping the rails due to Carr's poor memory, but they also emphasize that it always should be clear what is happening. Stoppard isn't interested in creating an expressionistic memory play. Rather, the memory lapses are mined for comedic effect.

In spite of the play's farcical elements, however, it aims at intellectual engagement in addition to pure entertainment. The first act delves into Joyce's literary experimentation, Lenin's politics, and Tzara's anti-art philosophy. These weighty subjects are discussed even more fully in the second act. As the play explores important ideas, it continues to adhere to a farcical structure. In fact, the play grows even more hysterical and fast-paced in its latter half.

Part of the way Stoppard maintains the farcical pace of Travesties is by looking back not to Jarry or Grabbe as Bermel suggests, but to one of the great farceurs of the nineteenth century: Oscar Wilde. The characters re-enact scenes from The Importance of Being Earnest, but with variations suitable to themselves. The laughs usually come from wordplay, but can also come from sight gags. For instance, Lenin and his wife Nadya appear dressed as Chasuble and Prism, the grim pair from Wilde's play. The scene exploits an intertextual link for comedic potential—even as the play discusses the world-shaking event of Lenin returning to Russia disguised in a very different manner.

Stoppard reworks and politicizes some of the most famous lines from The Importance of Being Earnest. Lady Bracknell memorably observes in Wilde's play: "To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune—to lose both seems like carelessness." Stoppard gives this gem to Lenin, changing it to: "To lose one revolution is unfortunate. To lose two would look like carelessness!" Again, Stoppard snags an intertextual laugh, but at the same time he is commenting on the historical Lenin, who had to go into exile after the aborted revolution in 1905 and was positioned precariously during the revolution of 1917.

Far from simplistic medieval plays like Blindman and the Boy, then, Travesties is an intellectual farce. It entertains with the same fast-paced action and rapid-fire dialogue as other farces while getting the audience to think about serious issues. Unlike Lysistrata, however, the play does not have an apparent moral or call to political action. Stoppard even mocks the very idea that a play needs a message or moral. At the end, Carr tries to formulate the three life lessons he learned in Zurich, but he forgets the last one.

However, the play contains its own response to critics who want only "serious" drama that can "teach" the audience something of importance. When Cecily claims the sole duty of art is social criticism, Carr objects. He points out that "a great deal of what we call art has no such function and yet in some way it gratifies a hunger that is common to princes and peasants." 

Even if farce is solely intended to entertain, that is not necessarily a bad thing, the play argues. Ultimately, Travesties calls on audiences to respect not just intellectual farces like itself, or classic farces by the likes of Scribe and Wilde, but all farces that make us laugh and in a way feed our spirits.