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    Bridget Everett Shows Off Her Softer Side in 'Somebody Somewhere'

    Sometimes Bridget Everett, the actress, comedian and self-proclaimed “cabaret wildebeest,” wonders what would have happened if she had never left Kansas. She has a pretty good idea.“I’d probably live in Kansas City, or Lawrence,” she said. “I would probably work in a restaurant and have two D.U.I.s and sit on the couch a lot in my underwear.”This was on a Monday afternoon in mid-December at John Brown BBQ, a purveyor of Kansas City-style barbecue in Queens, which is to say the closest that a person can get to Kansas within the New York City limits. (Not very close, as it turns out, though Everett said that the sides were delicious.) She was joined by Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen, the creators of “Somebody Somewhere,” a wistful Kansas-set half-hour comedy that arrives Sunday on HBO.Everett, 49, stars as Sam, a woman whose biography parallels her own, to a point. After years of bartending in a big city, Sam has returned to her hometown. She has a soul-eating job at an educational testing center and various family obligations — a father (Mike Hagerty) with a struggling farm, a mother (Jane Brody) with addiction issues, and a sister (Mary Catherine Garrison) with a wobbly marriage and an Instagrammable approach to evangelical Christianity. Sam sits on the couch a lot in her underwear.Then she meets Joel (Jeff Hiller), another testing center employee, who remembers her from her high school-choir glory days. He introduces her to a band of outsiders and misfits who meet weekly for what they call “choir practice,” a louche and joyful open mic night in an abandoned mall. And slowly, like some late-season wildflower who rips open her T-shirt after an impassioned version of “Piece of My Heart,” Sam begins to bloom.Danny McCarthy and Everett in “Somebody Somewhere.” The series is set in Everett’s hometown of Manhattan, Kan.HBOFor those who have experienced Everett onstage — in plunging, nipple-freeing dresses and with an approach to crowd work that violates most decency clauses — her presence as Sam will come as a surprise. She sings in only some of the episodes. Her wardrobe leans toward flannel. She sits on no one’s face.“If you’re used to seeing the wildebeest onstage, you’re going to be like, ‘Where is she?’” Everett said of her work on the show. “But I hope that people can settle into the sort of softer side of Bridget.”“I also think they’re going to be shocked to see me in a bra,” she added. “That’s really going to rattle some people.”Unhurried in its pacing, gentle in its tone and generally sympathetic to the vagaries of human behavior, “Somebody Somewhere” is not necessarily the show you might expect from pairing Everett with Bos and Thureen, founders of the avant-garde theater collective the Debate Society.But each has strong roots in the Midwest — Everett in Manhattan, Kan., where the show is set; Bos in Evanston, Ill.; Thureen in East Grand Forks, Minn. Which may explain why the producer Carolyn Strauss, who had first worked with Everett on “Love You More,” a pilot for Amazon, connected them.“That’s how she found us,” Thureen joked. “She was like, ‘Oh, they’re Midwestern.’”Strauss, a former top executive at HBO, had helped to arrange Everett’s deal with the network. She wanted a project that traded on more than Everett’s outrageousness, that also acknowledged the shyer, more guarded woman that she is in her offstage life.The creators Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen loosely based the series on Everett’s life.Krista Schlueter for The New York Times“There’s many different sides to her,” said Strauss, an executive producer on the series. “There’s just something about Bridget that really connects to all the parts of people — the good parts, the bad parts, the wounded parts, the healed-over parts.”With this prompt, Bos and Thureen, writing partners who have worked on “High Maintenance” and “Mozart in the Jungle,” pitched a show that drew on Everett’s real life — Kansas upbringing, unholy pipes, a mother who drinks, a sister who died young — and then imagined how this woman might express herself in a place that didn’t seem to welcome her heart or her gifts.“They threw in the dead sister, and I was sold,” Everett said.There are plenty of stories about small-town kids who come to the city with a dollar and a dream, and make good. There are plenty more about big-city transplants finding happiness only when they return home. That first story is more or less Everett’s, though it took decades of restaurant work and a lot of sozzled karaoke nights before she had anything that could be called a career. The second one is arguably Sam’s, though its comedy of chosen family is tinged with heartbreak. The show’s bittersweet message is that it’s never too late to find yourself, whenever and wherever you are.“We didn’t want to do a snarky show,” Everett said. “We wanted to do a nice show. Like a hug, you know?”HBO approved a pilot late in 2018. Everett and Jay Duplass, a director and executive producer on the show, took a research trip to Manhattan, Kan., so Duplass could meet her family, walk its not-so-mean streets and soak up what Everett suggested were its passive-aggressive vibes. Bos and Thureen wrote the script, interpolating some of Everett’s real experiences and a few verbatim quotes.Murray Hill, left, and Jeff Hiller are among the New York theater veterans in “Somebody Somewhere.” “It is a show that I hadn’t ever seen before,” Hiller said.HBODuplass — a creator of HBO’s “Togetherness” and a star of Amazon’s “Transparent” — shot the pilot in October 2019, mostly in Lockport, Ill., a city just southwest of Chicago. He aimed for a kind of documentary realism, he said. “How we could have done this wrong,” he said, “was to make everybody just jack up their quirkiness and undermine the underlying tragedy that’s also going on with each of these people.”But isn’t the show supposed to be a comedy? “In our mind, we are making a drama that happens to be funny,” he said.A seven-episode series was greenlit early in 2020, then paused when the pandemic began. Plans were made to resume shooting in September, but as case numbers rose, the producers pushed production again. The cast and crew arrived in Lockport this spring and shot as quickly as they could, sometimes locking down a scene in only two or three takes.Most of the cast, Everett included, had never played roles this substantial. Hagerty, who recurred on “Friends,” has perhaps the most credits, but no one is what you would call famous. So the shoot was late-bloomer central. “That made the set really fun,” Bos said. “It was a set for people who really wanted to be there.”In the past, film and TV shoots had unnerved Everett, often to the point of intestinal discomfort. But here she finally felt at ease. “It’s because I lived with the project for so long,” she said. “And we built it together — I knew I couldn’t get fired. That’s the main thing: Like, what were they going to do? Replace me with Kathy Bates?”Other actors felt this comfort, too. Hiller has often played small roles on TV, mostly waiters and, as he put it, “mean gay customer service representatives.” No show had ever wanted so much of him.“It is a show that I hadn’t ever seen before,” he said, speaking by telephone. “You don’t have to be gorgeous and perfect; you can be imperfect and queer and weird and too large. It’s nice.”Everett describes her stage persona as a “cabaret wildebeest.” For “Somebody Somewhere,” she said, “I hope that people can settle into the sort of softer side of Bridget.”Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesDuring the shoot, he lived with Everett and the cabaret legend Murray Hill in a rented house that Hill, who plays a soil scientist named Fred Rococo, described as “this ridiculous, Russian supper club, drug den of a mansion.” Hiller would sometimes count the number of pride flags in town: one.“There were times when we would be in the grocery store and get some looks,” Hiller said. “There’s a certain muting one has to do when one goes into slightly less benevolent spaces for the cabaret queers of the world.”But that was OK, because the cabaret queers had each other. Speaking by telephone, Hill, a drag king superstar, recalled growing up within a conservative New England community and feeling a sense of belonging only once he moved to New York and discovered cabaret. “Chosen family,” he said. “That’s how I’ve survived. That’s how Bridget’s survived. So a lot of those themes are in the show.”For Everett, success has always felt like an accident, albeit an accident resulting from years of survival jobs, very late nights and hard work. “Somebody Somewhere” suggests that even if this accident hadn’t happened, even if she had never made it in New York, she would have made a life for herself anyway. Which is a kind of consolation. Starring in an HBO show at 49? That’s consolation, too. And she is glad, she said, that it didn’t happen earlier.“If I had been successful in my 20s, I’d be in prison,” she said. “There’s no question. For some people, it takes a little longer to step into your stride. I feel like it makes it sweeter, in a way. And if it doesn’t work out, then I know I’m going to be OK.” More

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    Actress Dagmara Dominczyk Burns Bright in ‘Succession’ and 'The Lost Daughter'

    The Polish actress also stars in “The Lost Daughter,” directed by Maggie Gyllenhaal.Evening Leather? Too leathery. Bahama Mama? Too beachy. Peaches and Cream? Out of season. Sweet Kitty? No.On the Sunday before Christmas, in a windowless basement under a braiding salon in Downtown Brooklyn, the actress and novelist Dagmara Dominczyk searched for the perfect aroma. A candle devotee since her undergraduate days at Carnegie Mellon University (“I burn them morning to night,” she said), she had arrived for a “Sip & Smell Experience”: a free two-hour workshop hosted by Kately’s Candles that she had found on Eventbrite.Upon arriving, Kevin Pierre-Louis, the organizer, seated her on a greige vinyl sofa and presented her with a caddy of about 50 small bottles with hand-printed labels. His assistant handed her a glass of sparkling rosé, which she sipped with care.“I’m a spiller,” she said. “I spill. I stain.”“You’re too pretty,” Mr. Pierre-Louis said. “I don’t see you spilling.”“I’m pretty because I did my makeup,” Ms. Dominczyk, 45, replied.He brought her more bottles and she sniffed them, rejecting most. “Not Mistletoe,” she said. “I used to like candles that smelled like a Christmas tree, now it’s too much.” She reached for another bottle and read the label out loud. “Creamy Nutmeg — that’s what they used to call me in high school,” she said jokingly.Ms. Domińczyk sniffs scents for her candle.OK McCausland for The New York TimesEarthy and elegant, Ms. Dominczyk, the eldest of three daughters, immigrated to the United States from Poland when she was 6. (Her father, active in the trade unions movement, had become a persona non grata.) Encouraged by a friend, she auditioned for the Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts, where she blossomed as an actress. After graduating from Carnegie Mellon, she booked the female lead in a lush 2002 film adaptation of “The Count of Monte Cristo.”Her career seemed assured.Instead, she spent the next few years staying out, sleeping in, eating Polish food and working only sporadically — a movie here, a television episode there. She dated the actor Patrick Wilson (they briefly overlapped at college), married him the next year, had their first son the year after, and a second son three years later. They live in Montclair, N.J.Work remained occasional. Her body had new curves. When her husband appeared in a 2013 episode of “Girls” as Lena Dunham’s sex interest, some online trolls suggested that a conventionally attractive man like Mr. Wilson would never have a tryst with someone like Ms. Dunham. Ms. Dominczyk snapped back on Twitter, saying: “Funny, his wife is a size 10, muffin top & all, & he does her just fine.”Casting directors — some of whom asked her if she could lose 20 pounds — didn’t know quite what to do with her silky surface, steelier interior and obvious intelligence.That changed in 2018, when she was cast as Karolina Novotney, the unflappable public relations executive on the HBO drama “Succession.” She was quickly upgraded from a recurring role to a series regular.She has asked the producers if Karolina could act out in ways that the Roy siblings do, but they have so far declined. “I want to play,” Ms. Dominczyk said. “I want to have sex with one of the brothers. Or Shiv? I don’t know. But the role is such that Karolina stays in her lane. She’s there to do the job.”Ms. Dominczyk, seen here with Jeremy Strong, plays an unflappable public relations executive in “Succession.”Craig Blankenhorn/HBOShe also stars in “The Lost Daughter,” a film directed by Maggie Gyllenhaal.NetflixMs. Dominczyk can also be seen as a waspish mother-to-be in the much-lauded Netflix film “The Lost Daughter,” directed by Maggie Gyllenhaal. And she has recently wrapped the lead role in the HBO limited series “We Own This City,” in which she plays an F.B.I. agent investigating police corruption. “The more settled I became and the less apologetic for it, the less thinking I had to look a certain way or act a certain way, that was exciting for people,” she said.If she prefers complicated characters, her taste in fragrance skews simpler. “I’m much more of a sweet, cozy, pumpkin pie, fall candle person,” she said.A bottle labeled Dulce de Leche made the cut. And Pumpkin Patch and Pumpkin Rum Cake. Also Smoked Chestnut. (“Chestnut is a very Polish thing,” she said.) And Holiday Basket, though she joked that Mr. Pierre-Louis should have named it Holiday Basket Case. She sniffed the mixture with approval.“I want to down this like a shot,” she said.She brought her choices to the back of the room, where Mr. Pierre-Louis was melting coconut wax and castor oil in a cauldron set over a camping stove. He turned a spigot and the wax pooled into a pineapple shaped mold. Ms. Dominczyk measured out a spoonful of each chosen scent, then added burnt orange coloring and a smattering of dried flower petals.“I don’t cook,” she said. “This is the closest I’ve gotten to cooking all holiday season.”Ms. Dominczyk decorated her candle with flower petals and orange dye.  OK McCausland for The New York TimesMr. Pierre-Louis told her to name her scent and after a moment she settled on Smoked Dag. “That’s also the name of a sausage in Poland,” she said. “Just kidding.”While the wax set, she went back up the creaky wooden stairs and out onto a commercial stretch of Livingston Street to stretch her legs and vape a mint-flavored Juul. Was she ready for the holidays?She reached for her phone and pulled up a picture of her decorations — an orgy of lights, trees and tinsel. “It’s like Christmas vomited all over,” she said happily. That night she would meet friends and family for dinner, then she would help with a Feast of the Seven Fishes and a Christmas dinner that mixed Polish and American traditions.“Last year, we were like, Patrick has been in the family for 15 years — if he wants a Christmas ham, let’s give it to him,” she said, using an expletive.Back in the basement, the wax mostly set, Mr. Pierre-Louis presented her with a pair of scissors so that she could snip the wick. “Like an umbilical cord,” she said.Ms. Dominczyk sniffed, delighted. “Oh my God, it smells so good,” she said. “Bottle it. I don’t even need any commission.” More

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    Stephen Colbert Wants Hard Time for the Oath Keepers 11

    “Finally!” Colbert said. “Up until now, the most serious charge any of these guys has gotten is impersonating a Flintstone.”Welcome to Best of Late Night, a rundown of the previous night’s highlights that lets you sleep — and lets us get paid to watch comedy. Here are the 50 best movies on Netflix right now.Just Like FredOn Thursday, the Justice Department charged 11 Oath Keepers with seditious conspiracy in connection with the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the Capitol.“Finally!” Stephen Colbert said. “Up until now, the most serious charge any of these guys has gotten is impersonating a Flintstone.”“You know how your mother used to say if your friend jumped off a bridge, would you jump, too? These are people who answered ‘Yes.’” — JIMMY KIMMEL“This is huge! Seditious conspiracy is no slap on the wrist — it’s a charge of inciting rebellion against the federal government that carries a maximum penalty of 20 years in prison. That’s pretty bad. That’s pretty bad, I’ve got to say, but somehow it feels like it should be more. Like, if you tried to take the government down, you should go away for longer than one Billie Eilish.” — STEPHEN COLBERT“And hopefully, one day, the Feds will learn the identity of that shadowy figure who was the president who told them to do it.” — STEPHEN COLBERTThe Punchiest Punchlines (Today in Joe Biden Edition)“President Biden had a bad day. You know that vaccine mandate he rolled out last year? The one that required companies with more than 100 employees to get their workers vaccinated or tested regularly? Well, that was struck down by the Supreme Court today. The conservative majority ruled that Biden’s mandate went too far, and our individual right to get Covid from the worst person at work has been preserved.” — JIMMY KIMMEL“What the hell, Supremes? What — what do you know about large employers? You’re a small business with nine workers whose dress code is ankle-length Hefty bag.” — STEPHEN COLBERT“Well, guys, big news from Washington today as President Biden finally delivered a major update on his administration’s Covid response. Yeah, just like most phone updates, Biden kept hitting ‘ignore’ until he had no choice.” — JIMMY FALLON“That’s right, we’re all getting masks. Last year, we got 1,200 bucks; this year, cloth and a rubber band.” — JIMMY FALLON“The White House says N95 masks are the most protective, which is too bad, because I assumed the bedazzled ones I bought on Etsy were 100 percent Covid proof.” — JIMMY FALLON“Yeah, the N95 masks should be helpful. Unfortunately, out of habit, whenever somebody says, ‘N95,’ Biden calls out, ‘Bingo.’”— JIMMY FALLONThe Bits Worth WatchingJimmy Fallon and Questlove played Thursday’s Wordle on “The Tonight Show.”Also, Check This OutMaren Morris was one of the first country singers to see success on streaming platforms.Kristine Potter for The New York TimesMaren Morris is a pop-curious country star who’s finding success as a crossover artist. More

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    Finding Joy Through Art at the End of the World in ‘Station Eleven’

    Emily St. John Mandel talks about the pandemic novel she wrote years before Covid-19 and the HBO Max adaptation that some viewers have found oddly life-affirming.There’s a scene in Emily St. John Mandel’s 2014 pandemic novel “Station Eleven” when people stranded inside a Midwestern airport realize that no one is coming to save them, because nearly everyone else is dead.One character, clinging to hope that the crisis will pass, says, “I can’t wait till things get back to normal,” a sentiment that feels depressingly familiar two years into the pandemic.One might imagine that a story about a devastating viral outbreak would be a hard sell right now. Instead, to Mandel’s surprise, readers — and more recently, viewers — seem to be finding solace in her post-apocalyptic world, where traumatized survivors take comfort from art, music and friendships with strangers.“There’s something inherently hopeful in that message, just that life goes on,” Mandel said in an interview on Wednesday.“Station Eleven” sales jumped in 2020 and 2021 and have now surpassed 1 million copies. Last month, HBO Max began airing a 10-episode limited series based on the novel, which was adapted by Patrick Somerville and concludes on Thursday. Some viewers have found the show to be oddly life-affirming, despite its premise that billions died from a respiratory illness with a 99 percent fatality rate. James Poniewozik, the chief television critic for the Times, called it “the most uplifting show about life after the end of the world that you are likely to see.”Like the novel, the TV series follows a Shakespearean troupe that travels the Great Lakes region performing for survivors, offering hope that art will endure in a world without electricity, plumbing, antibiotics or iPhones. It opens just before the virus sweeps across North America, at a performance where an actor playing King Lear (Gael García Bernal) collapses onstage and dies while a man from the audience, Jeevan Chaudhary, tries to revive him. In the series, Jeevan (Himesh Patel) ends up caring for Kirsten, a young actress in the play (Matilda Lawler), and they quarantine together with his brother Frank (Nabhaan Rizwan) when society abruptly shuts down.The story jumps back and forth between the prepandemic era, the present day, the beginning of the end of the world, and 20 years after the crisis. Kirsten (played in her adult years by Mackenzie Davis) has joined the theater company, a touring caravan putting on productions of “Hamlet” and other Shakespeare plays. On the road, she meets a prophet she shares a strange connection with — an obsession with an obscure graphic novel about a spaceman named Dr. Eleven.Ahead of the series finale, Mandel spoke to the Times about why the story is resonating with Covid-weary audiences, her unease with being treated as a pandemic prophet and why she feels hope for a post-apocalyptic world. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.Himesh Patel in “Station Eleven.”Ian Watson/HBO MaxIt must have been weird to publish a pandemic novel set in the near future and then see a pandemic arrive. What was it like watching this unfold?I really predicted nothing. When you research the history of pandemics, as I did for “Station Eleven,” what becomes really clear is that there will always be another pandemic. We didn’t see this one coming because it’s been about 100 years since the last one in this part of the world, but it was always going to happen.You were also in the odd position of being held up as a cultural expert on the meaning of pandemics. What was that like?It was incredibly disorienting and surreal. At the same time, that was everybody’s life in March 2020 when this thing hit. I don’t know if it was actually that much stranger for me. What did feel really kind of odd and uncomfortable was all of a sudden I started getting all of these invitations to write op-eds about the pandemic. It felt a little bit gross, like I was using the pandemic as a marketing opportunity. That was something that I pushed back on.One of the themes in “Station Eleven” is the idea that art can give life meaning in times of catastrophe. Has that been true for you and do you see evidence of it being true on a broader cultural scale?Yes, absolutely. That’s been really heartening. When I look back to the spring of 2020, when we didn’t really know that much about the virus, I just remember being scared to go anywhere or do anything. Books were a kind of transport in that period for me, just being able to escape from the confines of my apartment, basically, by reading. It really meant a lot to me, and I think that is something that the show captures really beautifully. There’s a traveling symphony, but then also there’s that incredible moment in episode seven where the Frank character breaks into a rap song.How did you feel about some of the changes the show made?The show deepened the story in a lot of really interesting ways. There are some things they did that I really love, that I felt took ideas that I suggested in the book and carried them further, like the importance of “Hamlet” in the story. In my book, it was important that they perform Shakespeare, but in the series, Shakespeare is integrated into the plot in this really deep way that I feel like I only scratched the surface of in the book.I love what the series did with the Jeevan character, where in the book I could never really figure out how to integrate him with the other characters without it seeming a little bit too forced, really coincidental. I love that they just have Kirsten go back to Frank’s place with him. That completely solved that problem. It’s just such a wonderful emotional architecture for the story.What they really did beautifully was capture the joy in the book. It is a post-apocalyptic world, but something that I thought about a lot when I was writing the book was how beautiful that world would be. I was just imagining trees and grass, and flowers overtaking our structures. I thought of the beauty of that world, but also the joy. This is a group of people who travel together because they love playing music together and doing Shakespeare, and there is real joy in that.Another significant change is the character of Tyler, the prophet, who has a totally different fate in the book. What did you make of how they developed that character?There’s something depressingly familiar about the prophet that I wrote, because that’s the only kind of prophet I’d really encountered, in news stories and reading. I based my prophet off David Koresh and the Branch Davidians in Texas. There’s something really kind of original and interesting about the version of the prophet in the series. He’s a much more sympathetic character.Mackenzie Davis, center, stars in “Station Eleven” as an actor in a post-apocalyptic theater troupe.Ian Watson/HBO MaxHow involved were you with this show?I texted sometimes with Patrick Somerville. He cleared a lot of the major changes with me, which I really appreciated. I was not particularly involved once the show started shooting. I never visited the set because of Covid. So, I was kind of distant from the entire thing, which it’s unfortunate. I wish I could have gone there.The show was just beginning production when the pandemic hit. Was there ever a concern that viewers would balk at the premise?My assumption, and I’ve seen this play out on social media, was that some people would embrace it and some people are just too traumatized. I would say for anybody who’s on the fence about the show, that the first episode is the hardest to watch, or it was for me, anyway. That experience of dread as the pandemic washes over your entire society, that’s something that we’re just way too familiar with. It is also a brilliant episode. If you can get past your discomfort for that, I think it’s a more joyful show than people who are hesitant about it might imagine it to be.A lot of people are finding the show to be cathartic. Why do you think people are comforted by the novel and the show?There’s something in the idea that you can lose an entire world, but all of the society that you take for granted every day can disappear in the course of a pandemic. But there is life afterward, and there’s joy afterward, and a lot of things that are worth living for in the aftermath.In the novel and show, history is bifurcated into Before and After, and it’s interesting to think about what cultural shifts will endure from the pandemic.What’s weird is how quickly your boundaries fall. I had this wonderful experience last month. I got to meet all these “Station Eleven” actors and producers at a lunch, and then there was a screening later. It was my first time socializing indoors without masks in two years. I was like, OK, I’m going to do this. I’ve been PCR tested. I’m double-vaxxed, et cetera. It’s fine. I was like, but I’m not going to shake hands or hug anybody. I hugged everybody. More

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    Clare Barron on ‘Shhhh’ and How Playwriting Is Her ‘Kink of Exhibitionism’

    The playwright says her semi-autobiographical works, including her new play for Atlantic Theater Company, help to provide a measure of clarity about painful experiences.In the early months of the pandemic, the playwright Clare Barron published an essay titled “Not Writing,” which she accompanied with photographs of her cats, empty La Croix cans and unwashed laundry. “I haven’t written a play in four years,” she wrote. “I don’t know if I’ll write a play ever again. Who cares.”On Friday, the Atlantic Theater Company will premiere Barron’s new play, “Shhhh,” which she also directs and stars in. It’s not new new — Barron, 35, wrote it in 2016. But like all of her work — which includes “Baby Screams Miracle,” “Dirty Crusty,” “I’ll Never Love Again,” the Obie-winning “You Got Older” and the Pulitzer-nominated “Dance Nation” — it feels new: vibrating, visceral, almost worryingly alive.Part drama, part confession, part incantation, “Shhhh” tells the story of Shareen (Barron), a writer with a mysterious illness, and her sister, Sally (Constance Shulman), a postal worker who also makes A.S.M.R. videos and hosts meditation rituals. (The play refers to this character as Witchy Witch.) It returns to the themes and ideas that fascinate Barron: power, pleasure, desire, pain and all of the very weird things that a body can do. “It’s probably why I’m a theater artist,” Barron said, “to get to keep playing with the body in public.”In a conference room at the Atlantic’s offices in Chelsea, Barron — masked, fleeced, unguarded — discussed writing, not writing and creating such passionately personal work. “It’s not like I love it,” she said. “It makes me sick to my stomach. But then I kind of want to do it anyway.” These are edited excerpts from the conversation.Why did you want to publish “Not Writing”?I’ve always had a little bit of impostor syndrome and shame around not being a daily writer. My romantic image of a writer was like, they get up at 5 a.m., they put the coffee on, they work for three hours and take a break for breakfast — that kind of thing. I just have never wanted to write every day. I want to go out and do things and see people and have experiences. I’ve always felt like, “Oh, am I a fake writer? Am I not a real writer?” I have to wait for plays to incubate inside of me. Sometimes that means four come out in two years. Sometimes that means one comes out in seven years.I started to find success as a playwright in my late 20s, and my mental health was just completely plummeting. I got diagnosed as bipolar right before the 2016 election. And I just haven’t been able to write sometimes because of mental health. It is really freaky when everyone’s expecting you to function at a really high level. And you’re like, “I can’t feed myself right now. I can’t shower myself right now.” I’m not going to always be able to be functional, and I’m not going to always be able to be efficient, and I’m not going to always be able to be productive, and I’m just going to have to make peace with that.Barron at the Atlantic’s Linda Gross Theater. She is also directing and starring in her new play.Tonje Thilesen for The New York TimesDo you think you would have been diagnosed earlier if you weren’t working in theater?Being a theater artist delayed my diagnosis 100 percent, because it is such a weird lifestyle. You’re allowed to be really emotional. When you’re crying for no reason, theater people are great! And the schedule’s really off and on. So it actually works really well with a manic burst.Did you worry about what treatment would do to your process? I understand that even while you haven’t written plays, you have kept writing, mostly pilots for television.Limiting your creative ability or even your creative desire is a really common fear for anyone looking to go on psychiatric medication. I had that fear. And as years went by and I didn’t write new plays, it mounted. I was doing writing as a job. But what I wasn’t able to do was inspiration, personal revelation. I got a little freaked out, like, “Oh, did I lose it?” But being able to be in a TV writers’ room and still produce episodes was really helpful.How did you take care of yourself during the pandemic?Everyone had a different trial. I was single and lived alone. So what I was struggling with was no in-person social support, and just being really isolated. It just was incredibly lonely. I took a ton of baths. I drank a ton. I’d started doing craft projects. Everything from painting rocks to felting. I felted these little stuffed animal creatures.You wrote “Shhhh” in 2016. I remember you describing it in 2019 as a #MeToo play.I never knew how to talk about this play. So I would try out different tag lines. It’s a little bit of a collage play; it’s a little bit of a spell. It is a play about sexual assault, but very, very buried and strange. It’s a play about rape culture, but slightly more casually.When did you know that you wanted to direct it? And that you wanted to play Shareen?You’re talking to me right before we go into tech [rehearsals]. So I’m like, “What am I doing? This was a huge mistake.” I’ve been interested in directing for a while, and I’ve experimented with it a bit. The acting thing came separate. I wrote the play because I was sexually assaulted, but I was not able to say it. It was therapy for me to write this play. And that character, Shareen, is so me, everything that happens to her. It’s not autobiographical, but it’s in my skin and in my bones. We did this reading at my agent’s office where I just read it, and it just felt right and easy. Now it feels hard and scary. But in that moment, it felt like the right choice.“Shhhh” reminded me of one of your earliest plays, “Dirty Crusty,” and its fascination with the body as a site of both pleasure and disgust.I can’t quite get over that. Theater is the body; it is the body in front of other bodies. I like the body to be vulnerable onstage, present onstage, seen onstage, animal onstage — those are all things that turn me on. Growing up in a Christian community and feeling like I wanted to save my virginity until I was married, it took me forever to undo that knot and not feel like I was going to go to hell if I had sex. There’s something, like, compulsive in my theater work where I just keep trying to undo that knot and do things onstage that I never thought I would do. And when I finally did have sex, I just remember my utter shock when I realized that, like, sex was flesh and not magic.Like most of your plays, “Shhhh” has some intimate scenes. Has the pandemic influenced that staging?There’s also spitting and eating and sharing food. All of that feels really different now. In our rehearsal process, we’ve been doing sex scenes in masks. In some ways, it’s nice. There’s an added layer of care and sensitivity. It might feel a little wild to be doing it in front of an audience.There’s magic in this play — incantation, ritual. Is magic something you believe in?I think I believe in magic. I believe in things more than I can understand. Divine coincidence, chanting. Yeah, I do believe in magic. I play with that, too, because theater does feel like a ritual. It’s a little bit like, what can we conjure?You tend to write from a personal place. Where does autobiography end and art take over?Every single play that I’ve ever written starts with something that happened in my life that was super painful. Maybe this is my kink of exhibitionism: I get off on writing about these things super baldly. When a play goes well, I think of it almost as a yeast starter. When you work with the materials, it just changes. But I’m kind of shameless about it. “I’ll Never Love Again” is literally my diary. It’s not even hidden, which is why I don’t get upset when people are like, “Oh, I think this is autobiographical.” Because that’s not a bad word to me. I feel like I’m exposing myself over and over again, hoping to have some kind of like clarity.Is there a fear that you’ll run out of material?I don’t think I’m afraid of that. I just think I might have to wait for it. Life is just so painful and throws you so many curveballs, there always is another thing to write about. It’ll be a blessed thing if I have nothing to write about. More

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    ‘Mockingbird,’ Once a Broadway Smash, to Pause Production Amid Omicron

    “Girl From the North Country,” a musical using the songs of Bob Dylan, also closed, with hopes of reopening in the spring, as the surge in virus cases continues to upend the theater industry.The producers of “To Kill a Mockingbird,” a hit play that had been packing in audiences before the pandemic, announced Wednesday that they would shut down the show until June, lay off the cast and crew, downsize the production and then reopen in a smaller theater.At the same time, “Girl From the North Country,” a heart-tugging musical that uses the songs of Bob Dylan to consider the Depression-era plight of a group of down-on-their-luck Midwesterners in the town where Dylan was born, said it would end its Broadway run on Jan. 23, and would try to reopen in another theater this spring.They became the seventh and eighth Broadway shows to announce temporary or permanent closing dates since early December, when the Omicron variant sent coronavirus cases soaring in New York. Their plans for short-term layoffs follow an example set by the musical “Mrs. Doubtfire,” which recently said it would close for nine weeks.The “Mockingbird” move is dramatic, especially for a show that had been playing to capacity crowds before the pandemic. The show had been contemplating for some time whether a move to a smaller theater could make it more sustainable for a long-term run, and the decision to do so now allows it to avoid a period when attendance on Broadway is soft, and expected to remain so, because of the Omicron surge.“Mockingbird” plans to end its current run on Sunday and resume performances June 1 in the theater where “Girl” has been playing. “Mockingbird,” one of the rare nonmusical productions to realistically anticipate a long stay on Broadway, has been playing since late 2018 at the Shubert Theater, which has 1,435 seats. It plans to move to the Belasco Theater, where “Girl” has been running, and which has about 1,000 seats.“Mockingbird,” of course, is adapted from the novel by Harper Lee, which is one of the most popular in American history — just last month, New York Times readers chose it as the best book of the last 125 years. The play, with a script by Aaron Sorkin, had been selling strongly and is set to expand; a North American tour and a London production are both scheduled to begin in March.“Mockingbird,” which has long since recouped its $7.5 million capitalization costs, originally had Scott Rudin as its lead producer, but he stepped back from active producing after accusations of bullying, and the production is now overseen on a day-to-day basis by Orin Wolf as executive producer and Barry Diller as the lead producer.The show originally starred Jeff Daniels as Atticus Finch; he returned to lead the cast when the Broadway shutdown ended, and the character is now played by Greg Kinnear, who is expected to return when the show does.“Girl From the North Country” has had a tough run on Broadway: It opened on March 5, 2020, just a week before the coronavirus pandemic forced all theaters to close. And then it was deemed ineligible to compete for that season’s Tony Awards, because too few voters had managed to see it before the industry shut down (it is eligible to compete this season).Caitlin Houlahan, left, and Colton Ryan in 2020 in the musical “Girl From the North Country.” The show is closing, but hopes to reopen in the spring. Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThe musical, with a book by the Irish playwright Conor McPherson, resumed performances Oct. 13, 2021, but, with its dark tone and small scale, never really found its footing, despite strong prepandemic reviews in outlets including The New York Times, in which critic Ben Brantley called the show “profoundly beautiful.”The Coronavirus Pandemic: Key Things to KnowCard 1 of 4The Omicron surge. More

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    ‘And Just Like That’ Recap, Episode 7: Back on the Scene

    This week’s episode was a treat for anyone who’s been waiting for the “Sex and the City” revival to feel more like “Sex and the City.”Episode 7Maybe it was just a matter of waiting for a series to hit its stride, or maybe it was the magic of the Carrie necklace, but for anyone who’s been hoping that “And Just Like That …” would feel more like “Sex and the City,” this was your week.In the opening scene of this week’s episode, we find our leading lady, as we’ve seen her so many times before, perched in the window of her walk-up apartment, writing in the glow of her MacBook, a flicker of Y2K Carrie. Days and nights pass, and seasons change, letting us know that a chunk of time has gone by. That fast-forward proves vital because it needs to feel appropriate for Carrie to start dating again — so she can both sell her new book and liven up this show.All that typing has led to “Loved & Lost,” Carrie’s latest memoir, which delves into the death of Big. If that sounds dark and sad, it is, which is the exact issue her editor, Amanda (Ashlie Atkinson), has with the story.“You’re known for writing ‘Sex and the City!’” Amanda tells Carrie, “If we publish this as is, I’m worried your readers are going to pitch themselves out the window clutching their tubs of Häagen-Dazs.” What the story needs, Amanda says, is a “glimmer of hope” that joy is still out there for Carrie.Maybe it’s a coincidence, but it’s a direct parallel to what has been happening with the series. Carrie Bradshaw the writer has an audience, a legacy to uphold. So does Carrie Bradshaw the TV character. Both have longtime fans who expect a certain thing: a fun, pun-filled gal about town whom we can live and love vicariously through.The ‘Sex and the City’ UniverseThe sprawling franchise revolutionized how women were portrayed on the screen. And the show isn’t over yet. A New Series: Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte return for another strut down the premium cable runway in “And Just Like That,” streaming on HBO. Off Broadway: Candace Bushnell, whose writing gave birth to the “Sex and the City” universe, stars in her one-woman show based on her life. In Carrie’s Footsteps: “Sex and the City” painted a seductive vision of Manhattan, inspiring many young women to move to the city. The Origins: For the show’s 20th anniversary in 2018, Bushnell shared how a collection of essays turned into a pathbreaking series.Reasonable people could argue that we, the viewing public, just like they, the fictional reading public, need to let Carrie move on and stop demanding that she show up exactly how she used to. But we haven’t been very good at that. The internet has let out a collective sigh that “And Just Like That …” doesn’t have quite the same magic as “Sex and the City,” in part because all of the formerly charismatic single characters are either married off, mourning or masturbating their way through sexual frustration.The antidote to that — for the book and for the series — is some good old-fashioned dating. Amanda tells Carrie to go out with at least one guy so she can whip up an epilogue that gives the whole story a little lift. So she does, and in doing so, we get that lift on our TV screens as well.Seema, who is now occupying Samantha’s chair at the four-top, took it upon herself to sign Carrie up for some dating apps, and late at night, Carrie finds herself swiping. Eventually, she settles on a widower, Peter (Jon Tenney), and later, as they sit down to dinner, they figure out that this is the first date for each of them since their spouses passed. Carrie and Peter order drinks, and the next thing we know, they’re spilling out of the restaurant in a fit of giggles, almost stumbling over each other until they both puke their guts out at the curb.It’s absurd, and not really believable, but it’s fun, and it’s fodder for cocktail talk at Charlotte’s school fund-raiser, where the whole gang (except Steve — we’ll get to him in a minute) gathers to support their friend. Among the items up for grabs at a high-priced auction: a date with a beloved sex columnist, Carrie.The event is M.C.’ed by Herbert and Lisa, whom Charlotte is trying endlessly to impress. Earlier in the episode, she and Harry played tennis with them, and it got so competitive that Charlotte knocked Harry onto the ground in an attempt to win the game, leading to an utterly ridiculous but entirely realistic argument afterward. (Charlotte and Harry win the match, for what it’s worth, but they also kind of lose it when Herbert and Lisa catch them fighting.) As any good marriage counselor will tell you, fights among longtime couples are rarely about the things that initiated them — this one seems to be more about mansplaining, insecurity and society’s expectation that women always apologize.It is also the exact scene we needed to ground Charlotte and Harry’s relationship in anything like reality — we’ve barely seen them look at each other sideways since they walked down the aisle, let alone have an actual spat. Charlotte got so hot, she even dropped an F bomb, something we rarely (if ever?) see her do. I feel more connected to her character now than I have in years.But there is other behind-the-scenes drama at the fund-raiser. Months have gone by since Miranda’s tryst with Che, and her DM to Che has gone unanswered. Inexplicably, Carrie forgot to mention that Che would be performing at the event, so when Che bounds onstage, Miranda is caught off guard. She had tried in an early scene to revive her physical chemistry with Steve, but it collapsed into anxieties over lube and leftovers. (She apparently has a thing for sex in kitchens.) As she later told Carrie, she feels doomed to live like a sexual zombie for the rest of her life.That is, until she runs into Che again. She had all but given up on Che, but now she can’t resist the urge to reconnect. She is at the party stag, so there’s opportunity. Steve’s absence goes unaddressed — it seems as if the two simply don’t hang out often.Miranda tries to be stoic, feigning apathy that Che didn’t return her message — or, apparently, her feelings — but all that falls apart when Che proposes that they spend the night together. The two fall right into bed, and Miranda seems not to give Steve a second thought.“I’m in love with you,” Miranda tells Che as she bathes in the afterglow. “You’re in love with you, with me,” Che replies.That might be true. It also might be an incredibly kind way for Che to let Miranda know that she shouldn’t walk away from her marriage to pursue some happily ever after with Che — because Che doesn’t really do that whole scene.We’ll see. In any case, it’s hard to imagine seeing Miranda resign herself once again to her living-dead marriage.As for Carrie, there’s a sign of life. Peter shows up to the school benefit as well (apparently this party is the place to be in New York!) and ends up placing the winning bid on another date with Carrie.To be honest, I don’t really see it with Carrie and Peter — at least not yet. He reminds me of the “good on paper” guy Carrie dated years ago in the Hamptons, whom she wasn’t really into. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for Carrie’s finding love again, but before she moves on for good, I would first like to know whether Aidan is still married. I’m guessing many of you do, too.Things I Can’t Stop Thinking About:Are we even rooting for Nya to have a baby? Because it doesn’t seem like that’s what she really wants. Which is fine! Neither did Samantha or Carrie or even Miranda, at first. At this point, she seems to be pursuing a pregnancy mostly to make her kind and devoted husband happy, but it’s 2022, and we all know that’s simply not a good enough reason.Seeing Steve kindly and considerately wash his hands in the kitchen before the act touched my heart and made me preemptively sad for him that he’s probably about to lose it all.Of course no one is going to bid on a date (even a lunch date) with anybody (let alone a “sex writer”) at a private-school fund-raiser attended by a slew of Gen X parents. Why did Carrie agree to this?OK Che, we get it, you smoke a lot of weed. You smoke so much weed you can’t keep your DMs straight. You smoke so much weed that it’s step one in your sex routine. We hear you. You smoke a lot of weed. More

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    In London Theaters, the Show (Sometimes) Goes On

    A surge in coronavirus infections toppled production after production, but two stage adaptations — of a movie and a blockbuster novel — recovered and endure.LONDON — The show goes on, or these days maybe not. The uptick of coronavirus infections in the last month has upended live performances as severely here as on Broadway. During the holiday season, productions toppled one after another, unable to continue because of outbreaks in their casts or crews. Barely had Rebecca Frecknall’s revelatory revival of “Cabaret,” starring Eddie Redmayne, opened to rave reviews before it lost a spate of performances, a scenario repeated on and off the West End.Shutdowns affected big productions like “Moulin Rouge!,” the epic Tony-winning musical whose much-delayed London opening is now scheduled for Jan. 20. But they also occurred at fringe theaters like the Bush, where a two-hander called “Fair Play” closed within days of its premiere. (The run has since resumed.) Elsewhere, the organizers of the VAULT festival decided “with broken hearts,” they said in a statement, to cancel what would have been the 10th anniversary edition of that important showcase for new work.The Royal Court and the National Theater, two prominent state-funded playhouses, shut their doors altogether during the lucrative holiday period, and, over in the commercial sphere, Andrew Lloyd Webber closed his new musical, “Cinderella,” until February. “I am absolutely devastated,” the composer wrote on Twitter on Dec. 21.So you can imagine my delight this week to find the Donmar Warehouse back in business after being caught up in the closures, presenting the stage premiere of “Force Majeure,” adapted from the 2014 movie. (The play is scheduled to run through Feb. 5.) The audience at the 251-seat theater had to show proof of vaccination or a negative antigen test before entry, and we remained masked throughout — something that, until recently, has been an all too rare sight here. (At “Cinderella” back in August, I clocked scarcely a single mask.)I’m not sure that the playwright Tim Price’s adaptation, alas, is worth all the protocol. Those who know the Swedish director Ruben Ostlund’s Cannes Grand Jury prize-winner will recall its portrait of a marriage in free fall, which is sometimes bitterly funny but, more often than not, disturbing and even eerie. Set during five days in the French Alps, “Force Majeure” tells of a husband and wife and their two young children whose ski holiday doesn’t quite go as planned.Caught up in a controlled avalanche that appears to be out of control, Tomas abandons his family in the moment of crisis — or so claims his wife, Ebba, who is shaken by his behavior. Before long, Tomas’s ready smile turns to howls of grief and an awareness that their relationship has been altered for keeps.The theatrical version’s director, Michael Longhurst, has turned the Donmar stage into a miniature ski slope, and the backdrop of Jon Bausor’s clever design shows off the snow-capped mountains essential to the action. What transfers less well is the darkening, ambiguous tone of a film that, in Price’s stage iteration, seems both more literal and more vulgar: Much is made of one character’s priapic tendencies. The couple’s stage children are sullen brats who would have been better off left at home, and the film’s extraordinary ending aboard a wayward bus has been discarded in favor of silly shenanigans in an overcrowded elevator.As the hapless couple, Rory Kinnear and Lyndsey Marshal, both fine actors, slalom their way between affection and recrimination in what plays for the most part as a routine domestic comedy. Tomas’s breakdown — harrowing to watch onscreen — elicited laughs from some spectators the other night.Hiran Abeysekera, left, as Pi and Tom Larkin as Tiger Head in “Life of Pi,” directed by Max Webster, at Wyndham’s Theater.Johan PerssonThe stagecraft is more of an occasion at another play whose performances were interrupted late last year: “Life of Pi,” at Wyndham’s Theater, improbably brings to theatrical life the 2001 novel by Yann Martel that inspired the acclaimed 2012 film for which the director Ang Lee won an Oscar.In that version, 3-D plunges the moviegoer directly into the turbulent waters of a tale told largely at sea, as the teenage Pi, a zookeeper’s son, finds himself cast adrift on a lifeboat with only animals for company — chief among them a Bengal tiger known as Richard Parker. Not to be outdone, the play brings together veterans from the world of video and puppetry who work alongside the director Max Webster and the designer Tim Hatley in conjuring an array of beasts before a rapt audience. The cast list includes six puppeteers for the tiger alone, overseen by the puppetry and movement director Finn Caldwell, who also designed the puppets with Nick Barnes.The Coronavirus Pandemic: Key Things to KnowCard 1 of 4The latest Covid data in the U.S. More