Hard times

The other night after the show, a long time subscriber told me he hoped THEATREWORKS would do some comedy next season.  "But," I said, "We just did a comedy---The Lying Kind--and people seemed to think that was very funny.  We already do comedy!"  "Oh yes," he said, "but this year most of the shows have been so heavy."  And so we parted.

If I could rewind that moment I might have gone on to say, "Hey, most of our shows have been pretty light.  What about As You Like It---four weddings and a clown--wasn't that a comedy?  And love and lust soaked Venus and Adonis was an entertainment, wasn't it? The truth is we've done three comedies this season so far and only two plays that weren't comedies. Besides, we just came back from London and there wasn't a comedy in sight.  How about next year we do what we saw in London: No Man's Land (late night drinking, impasse, death around the corner), Oedipus Rex (laugh out loud self mutiliation and doom), August, Osage County (incest, booze, drugs and massive dysfunction up and downstairs), The Family Reunion (sterility and the furies at a country house)?  Now there's a heavy season for you. And we loved it---or I did, anyway."

But of course I didn't say that and wouldn't say that, because the truth is always in the beholder.  And I could see that the two serious dramas that we've offered this season, Wit and The Grapes of Wrath, have indeed far outweighed everything else in his mind.  And both these plays are heavy--one with cancer, the other with oppression and the destruction of a family--you can't get much heavier than terminal cancer and family destruction.  No matter that both plays offer vivid images of redemption at their ends: Rose of Sharon nursing the starving man, the choral salvation of Vivian Bearing finding the light.  Our subscriber felt weighted down and burdened, heavy with care.

These are hard times now, here and everywhere.  We feel the weight.  In normal times, I would argue, tragedy lifts us up.  We are stronger for enduring the unendurable, we are enlarged and lifted by feeling so much.  But in hard times, what we're looking for is relief and escape and hope.  Life is hard enough, too hard. And hard life makes us smaller; it can diminish our capacities. Heavy drama in these circumstances is just punishing. 

Does this mean next season we should do comedy and nothing but?  What do you think?

Comments

[Jill]

I'll take thoughtful, soul-searching, and heart wrenching drama over slap-stick any day. I enjoyed The Lying Kind, but I didn't find myself wondering later about its true meaning, how it moved me, or compared with my own life. We may be going through difficult times, but the case could be made that life is always difficult. Humor is distracting and light, but it rarely leaves me breathless and enchanted.

[Tracy Hostmyer]

It seems to me that the dramas you did really hit home with this audience member if he remembers them so vividly, while those comic performances have left him. Comedy can be like that I think; delicious in the moment and then it's gone. A good drama lives in your guts like a heavy steak. No reason why you can't have both. How about a nice Chekhov comedy in four acts?!

[Greg]

I would agree with the gent you spoke with. In heavy times, a good comedy is perfect to bring one's mind out of the daily bad news and gloom. The Lying Kind was perfect for the holidays, leaving me with sore ribs and a tickle in the throat from laughing too much. I prefer that to the heavy steak that sits with me for a while. So, a mixed platter over the season is probably best.