New York is where bad theater goes to be expensively produced... and die. For all the amazing stage magic, the innovative works, the re-imagined classics, the celebrities, the divas, the industry greats who uphold the integrity of live theater, the process of finding theatrical gems is still a messy one. Maybe in readings people have a harder time discerning the quality of material. Perhaps they think the theatricality of a piece can't be totally explored until it's a fully fleshed production. If this is the case, finding good art has long burned through the pocketbooks of hopeful producers and interested audiences.
The first of two posts in which I will explore this concept of good production, bad piece will focus on Lysistrata Jones. First, let's start with the facts. Lysistrata Jones is a modern musical retelling of the Aristophanes play Lysistrata. The concept translates thus: Lysistrata persuades the women of Greece to withhold sexual privileges from their husbands in order to force them to negotiate peace and end the Peloponnesian War= Lysistrata Jones, so named by her hippie parents, wants to do something with her life and decides she wants to end the Athens University basketball team's losing streak by not "giving it up" along with her fellow cheerleaders (on a cheer team she created by the way). Sounds like a simple enough idea modification. Could be a nice vehicle for exploring sexuality in the modern collegiate environment or perhaps activism in youth or even just a nice throwback to ancient Grecian playwriting.....It was none of these things.
Lysistrata Jones was, what the kids would call, a hot mess. The best thing that can be said about this show is that it was an exercise in duality. Here, in list form, are the many ways in which Lysistrata Jones was stratified:
1) Romp vs. Real- Lysistrata Jones couldn't decide if she was a farcical romp simply wishing to entertain or if she was a show with depth that explored real issues. The songs' lyrics were vague enough to give a dance jam feel but scene set up suggested that the power ballads were meant to be taken as serious character drama. This indecisiveness left the show as bare as the cast members during the locker room scenes.
2) Character vs. Characterization- Similarly, the characters were at times trying to be real people struggling to find themselves outside of the roles they've been forced to play...but mostly, the actors were trying to find characters in the grossly over-stereotyped mess of lines that was their motivation. Lysistrata and her friends came across as what old people think of college kids: dumb, hyper-emotional, vain, and somehow not a real person yet. Maybe this wasn't the greatest situation to explore young adult angst, but seriously, go sit in the quad of a college campus and do some in-person research. We are not soulless blots of human beings waiting for adult fulfillment. I cannot stress this enough, THESE CHARACTERS ARE THE WORST CARICATURES EVER.
3) Sexy or Sexy Not- For a show about withholding sex, the topic rarely came up. As I mentioned earlier, among the things Lysistrata Jones could have been, a meditation on late adolescent sexuality it was not. For a while it sounded like they skirted around the subject in an attempt to be a family friendly show (Psh, yeah right). But a few swear words and exposed genitalia later, it was clear this was not the case. Once you've crossed this line, why not go all the way (hehe)? Such subject matter is going to turn parents away anyway. Make this delve into the real issues people in their late teens are facing like what sex says about identity or the excessive interdependence in modern budding relationships. Or, if you expose your toned, young cast at all, make it count. The little skin we were shown was more awkward than sexy. Fail. Broadway dancers know sexy. Give them sexy back.
Remember when I queried that perhaps creatives couldn't tell if a show was good or not until they fleshed it out? Well, this show having already gone through out-of-town tryouts and an Off-Broadway run would have seemingly been through the goodness filter. The results should have yielded BAD. Maybe other people like this show, but for my taste the question I then imagine the producers asking themselves is "I wonder if other theatrical elements will cover up our book and score?" The reason I think this is because the hip-hop dancing was definitely the highlight of the show. Oh, and the busty black narrator who, like the other elements of her show, couldn't decide which sense of the word "muse" she was, story teller or gentlemen's play thing.
Maybe audiences will get distracted by the zingy one-liners or the indiscriminately high belting or the biggest rack to ever be bedecked in a golden leotard, but for theater's sake, I hope not. Here, let me do something hip and modern cuz I'm an edgy blogger. Hashtags! Ooooo #cantbelievebonnie&clydeisclosingbeforethismess
In the words of Russell Brand, "Doesn't matter how much you tart up a corpse. You could be the world's finest embalmist; I would not be swayed." Yes, I just compared a musical to a corpse. Too much? Maybe. Do I want you to see this regardless? No.
Tune in tomorrow when I rip The Blue Flower petal by petal,
Jamin
