REVIEW: Hester Street (Theater J)

The path of immigrant stories is often one well-trodden. Exclusion, discrimination, disenfranchisement, outright racism, all fundamentally traumatic characterizations that indicate an urgency to pay attention to these points of view. Sometimes they’re hyper-visceral like The Jungle, and sometimes they’re another community production of Fiddler. And while it’s easy to think well-trodden as “something stale”, consider the fallacy of the orphan-crushing machine.

One day, the news says: “Local Man Saves 6 Orphans From Orphan-Crushing Machine!” Millions cheer. Local Man is a hero! Yay Man! Viral interviews, book deals, and a two-week stint as Billy Flynn in Chicago ensue. Business continues as usual afterwards, and people move on, glad the orphans are safe, but nobody seeming to wonder why such a device existed at all and how to prevent it from existing again.

In the case of many contemporary storytelling fulcra being migrant-oriented, we should consider why they still need to be told. If society isn’t hearing the calls and learning the lessons, if migrant suffering is still treated as mundanely as e, then we clearly still need works like Hester Street —now playing at Theater J—it until it sticks.

Book

Hester Street is adapted from a seminal piece of 1970’s Jewish cinema by the same name. In 1890’s New York, we meet Jake — not his birth name, of course, since he’s a Yankee now. He’s a dance-hall frequenting womanizer who works at a sweatshop and lives in a tenement provided by the ornery Mrs. Kavarsky. Very early on he gets a few roommates: the pious Bernstein; and Jake’s wife Gitl and their son, unexpectedly. Caught in the throngs of upheaval between his old country and new home, he relents into abusive tendencies. It’s at this inflection the story begins to shift focus to Gitl, and where I found the most piquing storytelling. She serves as a vehicle for an understated immigrant experience: the culture shock of it all. We join her as she struggles with English (via Patrick W. Lord’s clever Yiddish-translation supertitles), learning to read and write for the very first time; Learning that modesty is not a crucial value in New York; all while keeping a hold of her classical Jewish heritage. These struggles are afforded welcomed complexity with the supporting characters, but are frustratingly short-sighted with Jake. As a villain, so to speak, his motivations are unclear beyond that of “abusive husband”. Additionally, the side plot featuring his affair is utterly irrelevant. Not only is it overwritten for its role, but given an epilogue nobody asked for. By the play’s end, I don’t care what became of an abuser and his mistress. I shouldn’t leave wondering what stories await him, lingering in the back of my mind when I should be enjoying Gitl’s redemption and new journey. Ultimately, I loved seeing her evolve from being fresh-off-the-boat to reconciling her piety and the opportunities in a new world. There’s something really good underneath all these narrative packing peanuts, I’m sure. 6/10

Acting

It goes without saying: points for Yiddish. The inclusion of Yiddish into modern English still enthuses me each day (“schlep”, for example, is absolutely the right word; I can’t think of a better one for its definition). So whenever there’s a production out there using it, points off the bat. Though not that I’m any expert in it, but the performances in Hester seemed to have a dutiful authenticity to the Old Tongue. In fact, it was the English accent work that left some to be desired. Often morphing between German, Russian, and Italian, many performances do well at reflecting the diversity of New York at the time, but not in a way that made me think they natively had their accents—except for Kavarsky. The bristly, megaphoned performance by Dani Stoller was easily my favorite of the afternoon. Her exciting gesturing complements her superior quips and earnest leadership. Especially in the second act, too, Sara Kapner turns up the heat as Gitl as her situation grows brittle. 6/10

Production

Wilson Chin’s effectively claustrophobic staging has the cast spilling into the audience. 90% of it is occupied by a tenement which rotates, showcasing any side of it at any given time, bringing the tension to the forefront. As an added bonus, the projections are placed upon a dingy clothesline perched above; very nice touch that adds so much worldbuilding. Lighting it all up is Collin K. Bills’ ascetic bulbs, utliziing dated lights and devices to emulate a night sky in the background. 9/10

Viz

Walking in with a bulky tenement staring you in the face is jarring but succinct. Most marketing materials emphasize the romantic —or plainly I say, “connection” — element of the piece, which is valid. 8/10

Verdict

Defying tropes yet feeding them as well, Hester Street at its core is a moving combination of Jewish identity, migrant struggles, and womanhood that just needs a little polish. 29/40