A Night at the Theatre

Bob and I went to the Ahmanson last night.

Unemployment has given me a new pastime. People watching. And those who attend the theatre are very interesting. Taking the escalator up from the parking lot, we were in the midst of a large group of aging artistes. They are the ones in their 50's and 60's who still look pretty good and pretty hip and have the appearance of being politically liberal and intellectual. The women all have either very, very short gray hair or long thick salt and pepper hair pulled pack into loose buns or ponytails. They all wear mid-length skirts with flat shoes and scarves or pashimas in vivid earth tones with gold thread woven through them. Their jewelry is hand crafted - metals and beads - no diamonds or gems. You easily imagine them living in clean but cluttered town homes - old buildings - near, or in, Beverly Hills - south of Wilshire. Books everywhere and large abstract oil paintings sitting on old wood floors and resting against the wall. And cats. At least two of them. The men in this group had balding heads and what hair was left was on the long side. And they bare the mark of bohemian authenticity: cat hair on their sweaters. These people were the real deal. I was not feeling well last night so I threw together something comfortable and wore no makeup; Bob is balding and in need of a haircut. Despite no cats and an authentic suburban, minivan lifestyle, by appearance, we fit right in.

Well, we were all in for a treat (or not) as we sat for 3 1/2 hours to watch what is no doubt the granddaddy of all people watching plays: August Osage County. This play won many Tony's in 2008 and the Pulitzer. As we filed into the Mezzanine, I was struck by the fact that there appeared to be a very large contingency of high school students among us as well. None of us could know what we were in for.

You can google it to get the story but the bottom line is that this play re-defines the dysfunctional family. There are some really big laughs. I had mixed feelings about the acting - much of it I felt was "stagy". But enough of my "review". After a very long and difficult Act I, we retreated to the lobby for air and I saw immediately that the high school students were completely unaffected. Can they relate to this play at all? Nope. They may have had the thrill of seeing a Pulitzer winning play but it was clear that the real thrill for them was the opportunity to "try-on" flirting with each other somewhere unfamiliar, outside of school. They are very adorable.

Back for more abuse in Act II - again a lot of laughs but the matriarch of this family is so mean, so vicious, so angry that when I found myself feeling sympathy for her I knew at once this is something you probably wouldn't want to admit to. (So here I am telling everyone.) The problem with plays like this is that there is something familiar about each of the characters - you recognize in some sense the people and the drama - which, I suppose, is what makes it so compelling. I imagine there is a sharp increase in appointments made with therapists in the area during the run of such a play. Had I had one, I would have logged a call by the second intermission...

We stayed seated for the second break and tried to decide if we liked this play or not. Act III unveiled all the horrible secrets - so many that it defied believability - and it had what Bob and I agreed were three false endings, meaning we thought the play was over and it wasn't.

At last, at 11:00, a standing ovation (Bob and I remained seated - who would know?) and off we went, with the high school students (giggling and looking absolutely no worse for the wear) and the aging artistes back to the parking lot. I tried to imagine how this group felt about this play. Would they be talking about it over toast and coffee in the morning? Had it been an "important" experience for them? Would their "Playbill" be left on the coffee table to encourage philosophical conversation with visiting friends?

We got into a conversation with one of the couples on the way to the car. Everyone in the play was either severely damaged, or a loser, or just plain vile (save two characters) and we made comparisons to Ibsen or Eugene O'Neill or even David Mamet. We had just seen the most celebrated play of the 2008 theatre season; a deep look into the just how horrible it can all be. We tried, briefly, to draw some conclusions and finally, Bob said: "Well it leaves you with a lot to think about". To my surprise, the ageing artiste woman replied : "Yeah, like, 'what's the point?'". Thank you!! I looked at her and knew immediately that she had made a happy home for her family. They drove off, I could complete their "story" - imagining them back in their cluttered town home - with their books and paintings and cats. And there, they treated each other well. A better play.

In the end, what it a good play? Everyone important seems to think so. Ten years ago I certainly would have thought so. It was well crafted. Was in interesting? Well, yes. Did I laugh? Absolutely. But was it really worth 3 1/2 hours of my time to watch a catastrophically wounded family play for a while in their individual and collective agony with not a glimmer of hope for a single one of them in the end? Uh, no. Yes, it was thought provoking, but I don't want to think about it. I'd much rather think of the stories behind all the people who came to the show. They all end well, though no one gets a Pulitzer.

Think about that.