Eliana Willis

The instant the string quartet finished, the police car was there: red and blue lights flashing, siren screaming as it approached.On Saturday evening in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, a masked crowd had gathered to watch a live performance being filmed on the Black Lives Matter mural that stretches down the center of Fulton Street — the Billie Holiday Theater’s powerful reading of “12 Angry Men … and Women: The Weight of the Wait,” a documentary collage of monologues about harassment, intimidation and violence by police against Black people who are simply going about their business.The music, played by members of the New York Philharmonic, had been the overture, but now came this, a sudden shattering of the peace, intrusive and unnerving. When the car stopped, we could see it at close range through the set, a row of five booths lined up like solo stages for the cast, each with three plexiglass sides and an upstage scrim.The vehicle’s strobes stayed on, and so did its headlights, silhouetting the four actors and one violinist (the excellent Daniel Bernard Roumain) as they took their places. OK, then — it was definitely part of the show, the first Actors’ Equity-approved production to take place in pandemic New York City. Its extraordinary, socially distanced design (particularly notable: Devin Cameron Jewett’s lighting and projections) took full visual and emotional advantage of the location.That’s palpable in the sleek, five-camera YouTube video of the one-night-only show, directed by Indira Etwaroo, the Billie Holiday’s artistic director, and available to watch through Election Day. Right in front of the actors, bold letters on the asphalt spell out TAMIR RICE. The 12-year-old killed by Cleveland police is one of 159 people memorialized by the mural. This is the ground on which the show stands, the platform for what are, in essence, testimonies.“I set out with my two sons,” a 19th-century man named Stephen Pembroke (Wendell Pierce) says in what becomes the play’s refrain, an affirmation of how bone-deep in our nation this ugliness goes. “We walked all night and got as far as New York City, where we were violently arrested and secured.”They were trying to escape slavery. In this script, arranged by Arthur Yorinks, the other voices are contemporary, and most are adapted from “12 Angry Men: True Stories of Being a Black Man in America Today,” a 2011 book by Gregory S. Parks and Matthew W. Hughey. An exception is the final story, a duologue about Breonna Taylor, the emergency room technician shot to death by Louisville, Ky., police six months ago.In the other stories, no one dies; they suffer physical and psychic violence and live to tell the tale.There is Solomon Moore (Billy Eugene Jones), a New York Times journalist who is arrested as he reports on antigang law enforcement. (“Police,” he says wryly, “have great difficulty determining who is, and who is not, a gangster — especially Black gangsters.”)There is Devon Carbado (Lisa Arrindell), the immigrant whose American rite of passage is being “spread-eagled” and searched without cause.There is Alex Landau (Marsha Stephanie Blake), pulled over for an illegal turn, who hears an officer say, ​“If he doesn’t calm down, we’re going to have to shoot him.”These are stories of needless aggression, of traumatic indignities that didn’t have to be. And in watching Pierce play Breonna Taylor’s fiancé, nearly 30 years his junior, there is a reminder that the horror of that night and her loss will be with that young man forever.The Billie Holiday first staged this “12 Angry Men” five years ago, with an all-male cast. Its updated revival now is a bold and vital response to an emergency in progress — and to the infuriating question: Who do you call for help when the people meant to help are the ones who are hurting you?12 Angry Men … and Women: The Weight of the WaitThrough Nov. 3; youtu.be/lM6rMoSUJYQ. Running time: 1 hour 46 minutes. More

As theaters look to see how they might reopen with safety accommodations including mask use, Dr. Anthony Fauci says it will likely be more than a year before people feel comfortable returning to theaters without masks.“If we get a really good vaccine and just about everybody gets vaccinated,” he said in an Instagram Live interview with Jennifer Garner on Wednesday, “you’ll have a degree of immunity in the general community that I think you can walk into a theater without a mask and feel like it’s comfortable that you’re not going to be at risk.”He said that would likely not be until mid- to late 2021.But that doesn’t mean he is saying when it would be safe to go to the theater without a mask. Dr. Fauci, the country’s leading infectious disease expert, clarified in a phone interview on Friday that he was referring to when people could return to theatergoing at their pre-coronavirus comfort levels. “Words like ‘safe’ are charged,” he said. “I’m talking about the general trend of when we’ll start to feel comfortable going back to normal if we get a safe and effective vaccine.” More

The Pulitzer Prize in drama is ordinarily given to work that is performed onstage. But this year, because of the coronavirus pandemic, that will change.The board that administers the prizes said Thursday that theatrical work streamed online, as well as shows that were scheduled to be staged in person but were canceled, would be eligible for the honor.“The spread of the COVID virus has closed theaters but has in no way dampened the creativity of the nation’s playwrights,” the prize’s co-chairs, Stephen Engelberg of ProPublica and Aminda Marqués González of the Miami Herald, said in a joint statement. “In this year, of all years, we wanted to honor the work that is being done. The shows are going on, if the audience is remote.”The prize, a highly prestigious recognition for an American dramatist, is granted each spring for “a distinguished play by an American author, preferably original in its source and dealing with American life.” It has been granted most years since 1918; this year, the musical “A Strange Loop,” by Michael R. Jackson, won the prize.Eligibility for the prize previously required an in-person production. But most American theaters have been closed since March, forced by government edict and union restrictions to shutter to slow the spread of the virus.So for the 2021 award — recognizing work from 2020 — the eligible entrants will include “full-length dramatic works” that were scheduled to be produced this year, “as well as plays produced and performed in places other than theaters, including online, outside or in site-specific venues.” Eligible works will also include, of course, works that did manage to open in the first few months of the year, before the pandemic.Playwrights can also choose to wait. “Creators of dramatic works can determine when it is ready for award consideration, as it may be submitted only once,” the board said.Among the shows that managed to open early this year, and might be contenders, were “Dana H.,” by Lucas Hnath, and “Cambodian Rock Band,” by Lauren Yee. Among those with scheduled, but canceled, productions: “The Minutes,” by Tracy Letts, “Sanctuary City,” by Martyna Majok, and the musical “Flying Over Sunset,” by James Lapine, Tom Kitt and Michael Korie. And among the dramas created for streaming: an Apple family pandemic trilogy by Richard Nelson, and “The Line,” a documentary play about medical workers responding to the pandemic, by Jessica Blank and Erik Jensen. More

In a recent essay, The New York Times critic Maya Phillips confessed that she discovered musicals “in a way theater die-hards might find gauche — via the widely panned film adaptation of ‘Rent.’”Yes, that “Rent.” The 2005 flop, which everyone agreed was a pale comparison to the 1996 Broadway hit. No matter, Phillips wrote. “That movie eventually led me to the real deal onstage.”So we asked readers: What was your gateway musical — the show that turned you onto Broadway and the smaller, weirder corners of the theater world?You named classics like “The Sound of Music” and “The Music Man.” Many of you cited Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Phantom of the Opera,” with one reader sheepishly admitting her love for “Starlight Express.” And, in the ’70s, a lot of you were really, really into “Pippin.”More moving were the many ways you discovered these shows — not just onstage but also through V.H.S., vinyl, YouTube. As plays migrate to Zoom these days, it’s a heartening reminder that technology has long let theater reach audiences beyond Broadway.Below are a few more of your answers, lightly edited and condensed.‘Sweeney Todd’It was 1979, and I was 11, going to a sleep-away camp. Every night after lights out, a counselor played the Len Cariou-Angela Lansbury album and would explain what was going on in the show, like one character’s hair going white overnight. It is a powerful show made then more powerful by our imaginations.Adam Herbst, New Jersey‘In the Heights’I had always loved musical theater, but it always seemed like a completely different world, like a dream. But for the first time, while watching the 2008 Tony Awards, I saw myself. I saw my people. I listened to the cast album and was able to see all these characters within my barrio and myself. That’s when I realized that musical theater wasn’t just dreams. It’s our lives put on display in one of the most beautiful ways it can: through song.Tamara Fuentes, North Bergen, N.J.‘Wicked’In the summer of 2007, a girl at summer camp told me to go home and look up “Defying Gravity” on YouTube. I was a bookish, introverted 12 year old in Miami, and I had never seen anything more captivating in my entire life. I watched dozens and dozens of videos and kept a ranked, ever-changing list of my favorite Elphabas.Ali Sousa, New York City‘Carousel’The 1953 performance of “Carousel,” one of a Starlight Opera series at an outdoor venue in San Diego’s magnificent Balboa Park, hit me like a thunderbolt. I went with my mother and her best friend at the end of summer when I was 11. It was a rare treat for me — my mother didn’t drive, and my family did not spend money on movies, much less these kinds of shows. As a feminist, I struggle seriously with the line that someone can “hit you — hit you hard — and not hurt at all.” Yet I console myself that the role of women has changed considerably, and the music still soars.Daryl Ann Glenney, Berryville, Va.‘Les Miserables’I was 9 years old when my best friend played “Do You Hear The People Sing?” for me on her record player. I was immediately hooked. I had no idea what a prostitute was or why Javert spent his whole life pursuing Valjean. But I knew that after school, with snacks in hand, I could march out to my backyard and shout-sing “Les Miz” at the top of my lungs and feel proud and strong.Alysson Caine, Queens, N.Y.‘Jesus Christ Superstar’At first, I only knew the music from the scratched vinyl my parents bought at a library sale and blared on the Radio Shack record player in the kitchen. A few years later, my family purchased a VCR, and I finally saw the 1973 film. My brother and I acted it out with our stuffed animals — Kermit was always Jesus.Josh Flynn, Kokomo, Ind.‘The Fantasticks’Christmas break, 1965. College buddies and I were traveling from Providence to New York City and had heard of a little show down in Greenwich Village — at that time (in our minds, at least) a fabled, bohemian and seductively exotic part of town. We wrangled up $4.50 apiece, fumbled our way to snow-covered Sullivan Street, and meandered into “The Fantasticks.”It was then (and is now) beautifully constructed and intimate, with a gorgeous score, and it’s both genuinely funny and unabashedly romantic. At college age, I saw myself in the callow young hero, Matt; in my 20s, fancied myself the dashing El Gallo; in my 40s, identified with the barely coping dads; and these days I’m a dead ringer for Henry, the befuddled old actor.Charlie Fontana, Washington, D.C.‘Annie’I saw a community theater production in my hometown, Lynnfield, Mass., and it changed the game for me. I thought “Tomorrow” was the most magical thing I’d ever seen. The girl playing Annie slid across the floor with such confidence, ease and hope. And there was a REAL dog!Paige McNamara, New York City‘Company’I grew up in China, so there wasn’t and still isn’t a culture of musicals. Came across stuff like “Cats” or “Phantom,” but besides finding the music lovely, I didn’t have much feeling about it. That changed after I saw the PBS recording of the 2006 revival of Sondheim’s “Company” with Raúl Esparza. That production blew me out of my mind. I realized that music in theater doesn’t have to do a “narrative” job, but can exist as a kind of comment and have a space of its own.Peilin, Germany‘A Chorus Line’The year after kindergarten, I was in a show at day camp. I can’t imagine we actually did the full musical — maybe a revue of some sort — but I definitely sang “One” in a chorus wearing a glittery gold top hat. My parents bought me the cassette of it, and I knew all the words.Clearly, I didn’t really understand much of what the show was about until I was older — I just liked the idea of a show about putting on a show. But like many things, something about its queerness must have been legible to me even then. I’ve since performed drag numbers to its songs, and a couple of years ago I got to see it staged again at the Hollywood Bowl. I cried.Lil Miss Hot Mess, Los Angeles‘Starlight Express’I’m embarrassed to admit this. I was taken to see “Starlight Express,” the Andrew Lloyd Webber shocker about loved-up trains with a cast entirely on roller skates. It spoke to my 7-year-old soul.Nat Whalley, London‘Pal Joey’In the spring of 1952, a revival of Rodgers and Hart’s “Pal Joey” was at Manhattan’s Broadhurst Theater on West 44th Street. I was a junior at Weequahic High School in Newark, N.J., and was seeing my first Broadway show. My date and I sat in the mezzanine. The overture began, and I wasn’t in the real world any longer.Ron Bruguiere, Los Angeles More