The Coast of Utopia MARATHON (Saturday, 4/7)
Yes, I went for it! Three elaborate, ambitious plays about 19th century Russian intellectuals, beginning at 11:00 a.m. and ending 12 hours later, with lunch and dinner breaks. Thanks to a dazzling staging, a lot of wonderful acting and some brilliantly conceived writing, it's an experience worth having.
Now (to borrow from Walter Kerr) ask me if I liked it. I thrilled to Jack O'Brien's brilliant stage pictures and fluid direction, keeping everything moving and crackling with all the wit and panache at his command. (Is there anything the man can't do? I've adored his productions of The Invention of Love, The Full Monty, Henry IV and Hairspray; talk about running the gamut.) I thought there was a lot of sensational acting -- Jennifer Ehle (not a favorite of mine ere now) in three sharply differentiated roles, Ethan Hawke (over the top to be sure, but the audience is thrilled every time he resurfaces, and justly so), Billy Crudup (extremely appealing and charming; a shame his character dies halfway through Part 2, and he has no additional role in Part 3) and Richard Easton (wonderful in his biggest role, in Part 1, and welcome back in small contributions in Parts 2 and 3). And it was fascinating to learn about all these people and events I barely knew about coming in.
The event's limitations for me center on Brian O'Byrne, both role and performance. We're told quite clearly that Alexander Herzen is central to the trilogy; the same amazing stage picture (Herzen atop a column, holding his head in one hand and a glove in the other, while a sea rages beneath him) opens each play, and his role is the largest in Parts 2 and 3. But as written and performed, he's not nearly compelling enough. Bakunin (Ethan Hawke) and Belinsky (Billy Crudup) are quirky and funny and crazy; it's easy to see why they get our attention every time they appear. Herzen, by contrast, is churning on the inside, and neither the text nor O'Byrne's performance drew me fully into that experience.
Combine that with the feeling (ever stronger as the day advanced) that Stoppard's rushing to fit all this time into the trilogy, and it's hard not to share Charles Isherwood's view that there's a Cliff's Notes quality to all of this. Where I part company with Isherwood is that he said this about Part 1, which structurally is much richer than that suggests. Then again, the first play is in a sense the easiest to pull off: introduce characters, themes and images, get our attention, etc.; the harder part is to sustain that with full success. They don't. But as a feast of staging, acting and fitfully exciting writing, it's irresistible still. I'm glad I made it.
Now (to borrow from Walter Kerr) ask me if I liked it. I thrilled to Jack O'Brien's brilliant stage pictures and fluid direction, keeping everything moving and crackling with all the wit and panache at his command. (Is there anything the man can't do? I've adored his productions of The Invention of Love, The Full Monty, Henry IV and Hairspray; talk about running the gamut.) I thought there was a lot of sensational acting -- Jennifer Ehle (not a favorite of mine ere now) in three sharply differentiated roles, Ethan Hawke (over the top to be sure, but the audience is thrilled every time he resurfaces, and justly so), Billy Crudup (extremely appealing and charming; a shame his character dies halfway through Part 2, and he has no additional role in Part 3) and Richard Easton (wonderful in his biggest role, in Part 1, and welcome back in small contributions in Parts 2 and 3). And it was fascinating to learn about all these people and events I barely knew about coming in.
The event's limitations for me center on Brian O'Byrne, both role and performance. We're told quite clearly that Alexander Herzen is central to the trilogy; the same amazing stage picture (Herzen atop a column, holding his head in one hand and a glove in the other, while a sea rages beneath him) opens each play, and his role is the largest in Parts 2 and 3. But as written and performed, he's not nearly compelling enough. Bakunin (Ethan Hawke) and Belinsky (Billy Crudup) are quirky and funny and crazy; it's easy to see why they get our attention every time they appear. Herzen, by contrast, is churning on the inside, and neither the text nor O'Byrne's performance drew me fully into that experience.
Combine that with the feeling (ever stronger as the day advanced) that Stoppard's rushing to fit all this time into the trilogy, and it's hard not to share Charles Isherwood's view that there's a Cliff's Notes quality to all of this. Where I part company with Isherwood is that he said this about Part 1, which structurally is much richer than that suggests. Then again, the first play is in a sense the easiest to pull off: introduce characters, themes and images, get our attention, etc.; the harder part is to sustain that with full success. They don't. But as a feast of staging, acting and fitfully exciting writing, it's irresistible still. I'm glad I made it.
posted by Helen Lawson at 5:59 AM
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