REVIEW: Angels in America, Part I: Millennium Approaches (Arena Stage)
Preview: Is there quite a show like Angels in America? Sure, there are plenty of pieces tackling Reagan-era queerness in the time of AIDS. Sure, there are pieces that tackle Mormon spirituality and the conflicts it can bring when put in a different place. And I’m sure there are a handful of shows about Jewishness in New York (at least 3, I assume /s). But, do any of them intersect in such a demanding way like they do in Tony Kushner’s Pulitzer and Tony-winnnig 1993 masterpiece? Hard to tell. But there is a reason this show makes such a splash wherever it goes. Between its braided storyline, intersectional themes, social critiques, and complex casting, it has left a mark on American theatre in a way rarely seen. Arena Stage’s mounting of Part I: Millennium Approaches, which opened this past Thursday at their in-the-round Fichandler theatre, is an engrossing representation of what makes this show so powerful. János Szász’s direction fires on all fronts and keeps you at the edge of your seat for the entire near 4-hour runtime.
Acting: I’ll just get out there and say it: outstanding casting, superb performances all around. These are roles that require range and nuance, and that’s what we’ve gotten. Prior and Louis, the gay couple whose relationship is torn apart early in the show an AIDS diagnosis, are pulled off with believable, flamboyant aplomb by Nick Westrate and Michael Kevin Darnall, respectively. Together they cycle through the stages of grief with such internal chaos and confusion that would leave even the most stalwart theatergoer in the trenches of empathy. The second interwoven relationship, the Pitts — the Mormon couple shaken by tremors of homosexuality and not-so-repressed drug addiction — is acted to a T. Deborah Ann Woll illuminates the stage as the troubled, agoraphobic housewife, with every piece of dialog deftfully spearing holes through the fabric of the show’s universe. It may not be clear what her hallucinations or dreams mean to her, but she doesn’t care, and neither should we. Her states of mania and delusion, offset by her failing marriage and ever-so crumbling Mormon values, creates a beautifully tragic storyline independent from the relationship-focused main branch. At the same time, her husband Joe (John Austin) performs a classic Man vs Self struggle that evolves beautifully from staunch Reaganite church man to a shaken, drunk shell of what he was. Edward Gero gives us the antagonistic Roy Cohn of our dreams. His performance gives us the faintest of hints of what’s really going on in his brain, the chaos and guilt of what he’s done to get this far, and how he’ll manipulate those around him to maintain it. Who truly steals each scene though, is the simply stunning Justin Weaks, as Belize/Mr. Lies. We’re first introduced to Weaks as Mr. Lies in Harper’s first hallucination, where he’s an illusion of the travel agent that sent she and her Husband to New York, offering to help her escape to her wildest fantasies (far, far away from Joe). His swagger and fluid characterization is sly and cynical, contrasting beautifully with Harper’s cautious optimism. When he really shines, however, is when Belize is on-stage for literally any reason. Belize, the former drag queen and close friend of Louis and Prior, is also a nurse in Prior’s AIDS ward. He’s witty, he’s crass, and most importantly he has no tolerance for bullshit when his entire world is dying around him and the government won’t do anything. Not one second of stage time is wasted, and Weaks is simply stunning. Rounding out the cast are Susan Rome, doing a wonderful job as a myriad of side characters, who are borderline comic relief: Rabbi, Roy’s doctor Henry, and the taunting ghost of Ethel Rosenberg. Not to say her dramatic talent is wasted, though; when she arrives on the scene as Joe’s rigid mother, who moved from Utah to save her son’s marriage, she is a confused, fish-out-of-water mama bear in the big city with clearly much more to her story than let on (she’s explored much more in Part II, which if produced, I’d love to see her cast again). A pleasant surprise to me was the Angel. Yet another role that’s expanded upon in Part II, the angel communicates in both voice and American Sign Language to Prior — I’m not sure if this was an intentional director’s decision to cast a signing actor, but I was reading about Billie Krishawn, and how she is currently learning it. Not only is it great to see sign language in any production, but I’m also learning it myself! I think also utilizing two languages at once provides this heaven-sent compliment to the religious and cultural themes of the story. I’d really love to see more of Krishawn’s bilingual acting ability in future productions, either of Part II or other work. 10/10
Production: I had my concerns with this being in-the-round. Not that I don’t like things being ITR, in fact I’d say it’s one of my favorite styles, but I was not sure how this would translate. Happy to report: quite well! Maruti Evans heavily utilizes sand as their motif. The primary representation of this is via the circular sandbank in the middle of the stage, with four walkways from the corners. In the center of the sand is a hard platform that rises and lowers as needed. My initial reservations about the sand impacting movement of the actors quickly gave way, as they were able to handle themselves despite my ankles cringing with every step of theirs. It shines the most when both plot lines overlap, and the trails of sand lead into a vortex of dramatic conflict, blurring the lines of interaction and insinuating who, or what the dialog is intended for. My biggest complaint with the staging is when the sand falls upon the platform, and then characters crunch around on it. It screeches throughout the area sharply like nails on chalkboard, and while I may have particular hearing problems (shrug), it was also distracting to others. The plastic wrapped wall environs do poorly at obscuring the nature of the staging, cleverly representing the facade the characters place over themselves. The lighting by Christopher Akerlind is muted, yet tastefully paints the sand to deftly create mood and scenery. This isn’t the most technically innovative show ever, but it does quite a lot with what it has. 8/10
Book: Tony Kushner’s book for Angels is often described as “metaphorical”, or even “complex”. While on this viewing I didn’t find it that abstract, I do admit I have a leg up due to my familiarity with the material. My partner was not, though, and they were able to follow it quite well. (They also found Daniel Fish’s deconstructed, sexy Oklahoma! very easy to follow as well, so they definitely have a taste for this sort of thing). For the uninitiated, here’s a sort of primer: in 1980s New York, Reagan-era conservatism, Religion, and the AIDS crisis tangle together via three seemingly unrelated relationships. As time passes on, psyches and connections are created and unfurled as they make sense of the trajectory of the human condition. It’s hard to really say much more than that without spoiling things (more than I slightly have in the Acting section) or over-explaining each relationship. Note that this is a long show. This clocked in at around 3 hours and 40 minutes over two acts, with a 15 minute intermission. You could see Come From Away twice, Hamilton one and a half times, or the entire original run of the cult animated series Clone High. And also remember, this is a two-part play. So there’s an entire separate, four-hour section of the show you aren’t even seeing at the Fichandler. Oh, but don’t take this negatively. In fact, the only negative takeaway you should have is that they aren’t doing the entire eight-hour production. The dialogue moves at a mile-a-minute, and every interaction is intentional and stuffed to the brim with interesting characterization. Each plot line intersects exactly where it should, and for exactly how long it should. It never feels confusing to the point of frustration, but it’s got enough nuance to make viewers think. Not one minute passes where you’re left feeling bored, or like it’s dragging along. This was always a draw to this show, how Kushner’s book does not let up at all yet does not feel overwhelming. He’s absolutely hit that sweet spot of writing and pacing that makes a four-hour marathon show feel like it was an hour at most. Not only would I sit there an extra four hours for the second part, I’d sit there for another eight, if Tony’s got any plans to make another part or two. 10/10
VisDev: Arena always has great art to advertise their shows, and this one keeps the tradition going. Primary marketing materials, and the program, feature the Angel lifting Prior up from the streets of New York. He looks dejected, feeling abandoned by the world around him. It creates a sense of isolation, yet also one of progress. The Great Work begins, after all, and it’s up to Prior to start it. Pre-show staging is thematic and intentionally uncomfortable. The chandeliers and walls are all covered in holey plastic wrap. I think this creates this idea of false obfuscation, a recurring theme in the show. How many characters are inherently something, yet hide their true selves which remain visible despite? I love when things are happening onstage during audience seating as well. In this case, there’s ambient tones playing, interspersed with the reading of names — AIDS victims, I presume. The Angel orbits the central stage with a rake, creating a radial pattern in her human-scale zen garden. Something I noticed is that when she’s completed the entire pattern, she sits down and the show begins. A great detail, and a clever call to the idea of time and progress that the Angel professes to Prior. 8/10
Verdict: Arena Stage pulls off Tony Kushner’s epic with aplomb, decorating cleverly limited staging with can’t-miss acting performances.
