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    Martyna Majok on Hoping for Magic, and Wishing for Ghosts

    The playwright, whose Pulitzer-winning “Cost of Living” is now on Broadway, talks about “the precarity of life” and our inherent need to be taken care of.The playwright Martyna Majok has never met her father, so it was her grandfather who played the paternal role in her life. When he died, in Poland in August 2012, she didn’t have the money to travel to his funeral.“Also, I was afraid to go,” she said on a recent afternoon, “because I just didn’t want it to be true.” Not being there, though, gave his death a sense of unreality for her: “Sometimes I just think that we haven’t spoken for a long time.”Majok (pronounced MY-oak) was missing him on the snowy January night in 2014 when she lost her job at a bar in downtown Manhattan. (“They thought I had stolen $100, and they fired me because I was mouthy.”) Back home at the latest in a string of sublets, she started to write the poignant comic monologue that opens her Pulitzer Prize-winning play, “Cost of Living.” It’s spoken by a hapless former trucker named Eddie, whose unmooring grief for his dead wife has him wanting to believe she’s texting him from the Great Beyond.“He’s hoping for some kind of magic, some miracle, something that communicates to him that we don’t just disappear,” Majok said in an upstairs lounge at the Samuel J. Friedman Theater, where “Cost of Living” — which she dedicated to her grandfather, Pawel Majok — is having a limited Broadway run through Nov. 6. “That was definitely where I was at when I was writing it. I kept hoping that I would see my grandfather’s ghost. I was seeking it out. I was looking for signs.”Katy Sullivan and David Zayas in the Broadway production of “Cost of Living.” Majok insists that her disabled characters be played by disabled actors, a decision that Sullivan calls “bold as hell.”Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesAs tinged with longing as “Cost of Living” is, it’s also laugh-out-loud funny. Yet Majok considers it a romance, twining the stories of two New Jersey couples: Eddie and his estranged wife, Ani, who is adjusting to paraplegia following an accident; and Jess, a working-class graduate of a prestigious university who takes a job as a personal care aide to John, a wealthy doctoral student with cerebral palsy.Class figures prominently, as does disability. But to Majok it is a play about “the precarity of life” — the way that one bad break, financial or physical or emotional, can tumble a person into desperation — and the need we all have to be taken care of.Majok, who once juggled late-night bartending jobs with work as a personal care aide to two disabled men, insists that her disabled characters must be played by disabled actors. That stipulation, she said, has gained “Cost of Living” a reputation for being difficult to produce, and led some rights seekers to ask her to make an exception. Short answer: No.“Which I think is brave and bold as hell,” said the actor Katy Sullivan, an amputee who has played Ani in five productions — the world premiere at Williamstown Theater Festival in 2016, Off Broadway in 2017, Los Angeles in 2018, London in 2019 and now Broadway. “I am certain that she has lost out on income because she has drawn that line in the sand.”Majok is just as fierce in her dramaturgy, unafraid of lulling “Cost of Living” audiences into a pleasurable sense of comfort only to spring on them a plot twist that makes the whole room gasp, uncertain whether the emergency onstage is real or part of the play. During the Off Broadway run at Manhattan Theater Club, she recalled, a woman got out of her seat at that moment in the performance and started moving toward the stage to help.“I found that so beautiful,” Majok said, “because to me it was like, look at how instantly we care for people.”This is the tender-tough yin and yang of Majok, who pivots to humor if she tears up, as she did in speaking about her grandfather, the same way her characters joke if they go anywhere near self-pity.Lesson in betrayal: Sharlene Cruz, left, and Jasai Chase-Owens in last year’s New York Theater Workshop production of Majok’s “Sanctuary City,” at the Lucille Lortel Theater.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesJo Bonney, the director of the Williamstown, Off Broadway and Broadway productions of “Cost of Living,” said that Majok as a playwright “is never sentimental, even when people are in dire circumstances. She has faith, I think, in human resiliency. And that’s just very powerful.”Majok, whose other plays include “Sanctuary City” (2021), about a pair of undocumented teenagers, and “Queens” (2018), set among immigrant women sharing a basement apartment, was 5 when she came to the United States from Poland. She grew up mainly in New Jersey, where her mother cleaned houses and still sometimes does on the side.“I have offered to pay her to not clean,” Majok said. “‘I will give you $75 to not clean this house.’ And she’s like, ‘Why don’t you just give me $75 and I’ll still clean the house?’ I’m like, ‘No!’ Scarcity mind-set, scarcity mind-set.”In her childhood, there was some back and forth to Poland before she and her mother became firmly rooted here. Majok feels self-imposed guilt about having chosen as an adult to remain in this country, where her mother and younger sister are, rather than return to Poland, where their extended family is.That’s one reason the markers of success that she’s accumulated — among them an undergraduate degree in 2007 from the University of Chicago, an M.F.A. in 2012 from the Yale School of Drama, the Pulitzer in 2018, the Broadway debut this month — matter to her, as validation of her writing and her life.“I feel like I’m apologizing for leaving Poland,” she said in a second interview, which she’d requested in part to elucidate this. “If you leave your family, it better be [expletive] worth it.”What’s next for the playwright? She’s in the process of adapting a couple of books into films, and collaborating on a musical adaptation of “The Great Gatsby.” Dina Litovsky for The New York TimesScrupulous in her thinking, meticulous in her writing, Majok is easy with profanity. That day, sitting on a bench overlooking the Heather Garden in Fort Tryon Park, near her apartment in Upper Manhattan, she wore a gold necklace that she’d taken off before the photo shoot for this article, figuring it would never make it into a published picture.From a distance its lowercase cursive looks like maybe it’s spelling out a name. On closer inspection, though, it’s one brief expletive, three times in a row — a gift from Marin Ireland, who starred in the 2016 New York premiere of “Ironbound,” Majok’s breakthrough play about a Polish immigrant much like her mother, in which variations on that word appear 68 times.In the “Cost of Living” script, the number is 77, counting an author’s note explaining that in “the Jersey mouth” — and Majok does, after all, have a Jersey mouth — the expletive in question “is often used as a comma, or as a vocalized pause, akin to the word ‘like.’”Despite lingering worries about what she calls “the [expletive] hubris” of presuming she has the luxury to turn down work, Majok lets herself be picky these days about the projects she takes on. She has said yes to adapting a couple of books into films that she’s not yet allowed to discuss, but no to assorted screen projects about “lady murders.” On her wish list? Making a film of “Cost of Living.”And while she was never a collaborator on the musical adaptation of that play, which was announced in 2018, she is collaborating on a musical adaptation of “The Great Gatsby” — which sounds like an odd fit until she says that she sees Jay Gatsby as a working-class character.It’s a psychology that she understands.Far more stable than when she started out, Majok still has a vigilance within — a part of her that is forever anticipating the kind of fracture that could break her life.“I feel like I’m more prepared for catastrophe,” she said. “But you never [expletive] know.” More

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    Nathan Lane to Return to Broadway This Winter in ‘Pictures From Home’

    The play, written by Sharr White and directed by Bartlett Sher, will also star Danny Burstein and Zoë Wanamaker.Nathan Lane will return to Broadway this winter, starring in a new play called “Pictures From Home” about the artistic and emotional relationship between a photographer and his aging parents.The play, written by Sharr White and directed by Bartlett Sher, is adapted from an acclaimed memoir by the photographer Larry Sultan, also called “Pictures From Home,” featuring not only staged portraits of his parents, but also interviews with them.Danny Burstein, a Tony winner for “Moulin Rouge! The Musical,” will play Sultan; Lane, a three-time Tony winner for “Angels in America,” “The Producers” and “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum,” will play the photographer’s father, Irving; and Zoë Wanamaker will play the photographer’s mother, Jean.The Broadway production will be the first for the play, which previously had developmental readings at New York Stage and Film, the Cape Cod Theater Project and the Alley Theater in Houston.White, whose previous Broadway plays included “The Other Place” and “The Snow Geese,” said he became interested in Sultan after seeing an exhibition of the photographer’s work in Los Angeles, where White was working as a writer and producer of “The Affair.”“I was totally captivated, and thought, who are these people?” White said. “The more I read, the more I thought it was an epic story and an intimate story, and one that embodies incredible contradictions.”White described Sultan’s parents as displaying “rejecting acceptance” of their son’s long-running artistic project, which he called “a gorgeous exploration of mortality.” He said the play includes some language from Sultan’s book, and some anecdotes gleaned from interviews with Sultan’s widow, Kelly, but that most of the dialogue was invented by the playwright.Sher, a Tony winner for his revival of “South Pacific,” has been working on the project for about a year, drawn to it, he said, as “an extraordinary exploration of the aging process.” He said the play “is fundamentally about art — who gets to depict what, and how you’re represented,” and said the production would make heavy use of Sultan’s photography.Lane, who last appeared on Broadway in 2019, said he had been unfamiliar with Sultan’s work before reading the play, but that he “thought it was a beautiful piece of writing — very funny and very quietly devastating” and said he hoped that its two subjects, “parents and mortality,” would be relatable to audiences.“It has a documentary feel,” he said, “and yet it’s highly theatrical.”The play is scheduled to begin previews on Jan. 10 and to open Feb. 9 at Studio 54. Although that theater is owned by the nonprofit Roundabout Theater Company, the play will be a commercial production, with Jeffrey Richards as lead producer. More

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    Interview: Now with Not Now

    Max Elton and Matthew Blaney talk Not Now

    Finborough Theatre 1 – 26 November.

    In advance of David Ireland’s Not Now opening at Finborough Theatre in November, we chatted with Director Max Elton and actor Matthew Blaney about the play, playwright and bringing the show to London audiences.

    What can you tell us about the show.

    Max: The show is about a young man, Matthew, who is about to travel to London for an audition at RADA. The timing is not good, his father has just died, and in his place, his Uncle Ray emerges as confidant. The question is, is Ray able to help him navigate this difficult time, or is he a bit useless? David Ireland writes two types of plays. In one type babies are brutally murdered and dogs are romanced. This is the other type – though I think giving away anything more at this stage would be a bit of a spoiler and we wouldn’t be caught dead doing that. I think people will laugh a lot and feel like they’ve been treated to a deeply satisfying evening at the theatre – all in about 50 minutes. 

    Matthew: The play takes place in real time, in Ballybeen, East Belfast, where my character Matthew (an aspiring actor) prepares for his RADA audition that afternoon in London. It’s the day after his father’s funeral. He’s rehearsing the opening soliloquy from Richard III when his Uncle Ray interrupts him. Matthew is naturally feeling underprepared and is having second thoughts about going at all, and what unfolds is an examination on grief, identity, loyalty and love between the two men. It’s also feckin hilarious. 

    Ballybeen is where David’s from originally and listening to interviews he’s done in the past, and discussions in rehearsal, Matthew feels alot like how he may have been as a youngster; Matthew’s a very sweet kid: angry and awkward, but also very sincere. There’s a decency that slowly reveals itself in him I also find very touching.

    Max, you directed the very successful Yes So I Said Yes at Finborough last year, what was your first exposure to David Ireland and what made you want to direct his plays?

    Before Yes So I Said Yes, I’d directed The End of Hope at Soho Theatre which was a lovely show. I had come across it after seeing Cyprus Avenue at the Royal Court Upstairs. My response to David’s writing was completely different to anything else I’d ever seen. His characters get pissed off about the same sort of things that I get angry about. I don’t come from Northern Ireland and I don’t share the same history as many of David’s characters but on some level I strongly identify with them.

    Matthew, were you familiar with David Ireland?
    He’s the best! I’m delighted he’s known now in London and that his work has travelled successfully. He was writing for the Lyric Theatre in Belfast when I was taking classes at the Drama Studio nearly ten years ago. I was hooked right away – I distinctly remember Can’t Forget About You was a breath of fresh air.

    David Ireland has previously said that he thinks he is only ever writing for a Belfast audience but his work clearly has wider resonance and success. In London, Not Now will be his third play at Finborough and the Royal Court staged Cyprus Avenue to great success. What do you think is behind his success?

    Max: David’s flair and insight are on a different level to the vast majority of playwrights working today. He’s a one off and that quality resonates with people, wherever they’re from. 

    Matthew: He doesn’t shy away from the darkness. Certainly with Cyprus Avenue. I think audiences everywhere crave a safe space to be challenged, and seeing the horrors we are capable of doing to each other. Not Now is a quieter piece, but the anger is similar.

    Did you know each other before coming together for Not Now, had you crossed paths socially or worked together previously?

    Max: They had not but I was aware of both Matthew and Stephen. I’m thrilled to be working with both of them.

    Matthew: Unfortunately not. Stephen’s brilliant to watch and learn from, and I’m excited for audiences to see what he’ll bring to Uncle Ray.

    How has the first week of rehearsals gone, are you discovering anything new about the text or characters now that you are together in the room?

    Max: Rehearsals have been very exciting. Reading Not Now only gives you a glimpse of the iceberg with regards to its depth. We’re several feet under sea level now. 

    Matthew: It stops being funny very quickly! For us I mean – the jokes are class but it’s all coming from a painful place. You’ve got to really go there a little to find the truth behind the words, which Max has been encouraging us to do. By the time we get it up and running, the audiences should be reminding us we’re in a comedy again.

    Matthew, as a Northern Irish actor and given some of the plays themes of identity, how does it feel to bring this to London? Is there a little extra joy or satisfaction in taking on a role where you are playing a Northern Irish character in a play by a Northern Irish playwright? 

    I think it’d be difficult to tackle this without the lived experience, which David obviously has. I’m excited for people’s response to the play. The identity question is clearly a frustrating one (as the text explores) which hit me hard personally at Drama School. I’m delighted to bring some of that into my performance, and for audiences to see the complexities unfold in a very immediate and intimate way.

    Many of our ET team list The Finborough as one of our favourite London venues, tell us a little about working with the team? Max, we believe this is your third production here, you must enjoy working with Finborough?

    Max: I think Neil (McPherson – Artistic Director, Finborough Theatre) is brave enough to program work that other Artistic Directors shy away from. It is heartening to know that Neil prioritises excellent writing above all other factors when programming the space. 

    Matthew: Everyone’s been fantastic. I’m very chuffed to be a part of the team, and to get onto the stage pronto. 

    Max, originally you were due to bring back Yes So I Said Yes after its successful run last year but some scheduling issues got in the way. Was there a sudden ‘oh s**t’ moment when you realised you won’t be able to go ahead?

    Yes there was an ‘oh shit’ moment. It was very sad and it made me want to run away and start applying for jobs in the civil service. 
    There are many good days working in theatre and those of us able to do it should consider ourselves very lucky but the bad days can be really very miserable. That said, out of the ashes has come the opportunity to work on a play that I loved the first time I read it so the Department of Digital, Culture, Media and Sport will have to wait until at least the new year.

    Tell us what you each have coming up after Not Now finishes? 

    Max: I’m directing a version of The Government Inspector by Nikolai Gogol at St Mary’s University, which I’m very excited about. Gogol characters can be truly repulsive but there’s something very clear and true about the way they act that I find very funny. 

    Beyond this I’ll be returning to my day job of repeatedly emailing Artistic Directors and Producers to assure them that I do indeed “hope they’re well” and am available for coffee at 1 hours notice.

    Matthew: I’m going to be doing a few nights at The Hope Theatre next year in January with a new play called The Best Pints by Jack Gallagher. He’s also a brilliant writer from back home and that’ll be nice to kick start the new year for sure.

    You can follow Not Now Play on Twitter. Our thanks to Max and Matt for taking the time to talk to us. Our thanks also to 19th Street Productions and credit to Lidia Crisafulli for the rehearsal photos.

    Not Now plays at Finborough Theatre from 1 November to 26 November. Tickets and further information can be found here. More

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    Another Miranda at the Public Theater: Luis A. Miranda Jr., New Board Chair

    Luis A. Miranda Jr., a political consultant and activist whose son, Lin-Manuel Miranda, composed one of the Public’s biggest hits, “Hamilton,” was named chair of the theater’s board.Long before he joined the board of the Public Theater, and before his son, Lin-Manuel Miranda, composed one of the biggest hits in the theater’s history, “Hamilton,” Luis A. Miranda Jr. recalled the first show he ever saw there: Ntozake Shange’s “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow Is Enuf.”“My first experience with the Public Theater, in 1976, was of a production that could not be more different than everything that was on Broadway,” Luis Miranda, 68, said, recalling “For Colored Girls” and its intimate stories of Black female agency told through spoken word and dance.Now Miranda, a political consultant and activist who has worked in city government and the nonprofit sector, will be taking on a new role at the institution: The theater announced Tuesday that he would be its next board chair.Miranda said that his priorities included the renovation of the Delacorte Theater in Central Park, the home of the theater’s Free Shakespeare in the Park program, and support for the theater’s diversity and inclusion initiatives.While many theaters have begun to reckon with being “too white” in recent years, Miranda said, Public Theater had an early start on bridging the equity gap.“We’re not starting from scratch because the theater has a history of cultural transformation and putting onstage diverse actors, diverse writers,” said Miranda, who has been on the board since 2015. But he added that there was more to do and that he would work on initiatives that include antiracism training for board members and the hiring of a senior director of antiracism and equity.“Hamilton” started out at the Public Theater, before transferring to Broadway. “We never thought that Hamilton would be what it has become,” Miranda said.Miranda chairs the Latino Victory Fund, the Broadway League’s Viva Broadway initiative and the Northern Manhattan Arts Alliance. At the Public he succeeds Arielle Tepper, who served as chair for nearly a decade. “I couldn’t be happier that he is taking over,” Tepper said.Oskar Eustis, the theater’s artistic director, praised Miranda in a statement for his commitment to the idea that “culture belongs to everyone.” More

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    ‘Chushingura — 47 Ronin’ Review: A Sprawling Tale of Loyalty

    The palace intrigue behind a mythic battle from 18th-century Japan is the subject of this bilingual play in Manhattan.There is no getting around it: This show is far from perfect. Actually, it might be far from a conventional definition of good. The storytelling is erratic, and so is some of the acting; the production values are minimal.Yet during the vast majority of “Chushingura — 47 Ronin,” I was engrossed in the action, eager to see what was going to happen next. It did not even matter that I knew what was in store, having seen three film versions of the basic plot, including the Kenji Mizoguchi classic “The 47 Ronin,” from 1941. More celebrated plays have not exerted that kind of primal pull on me: Sometimes theater can be so elementally simple that it boils down to the basic enjoyment of a good yarn.And this one, about a band of warriors’ vengeful quest, is among the best of all time. The show, at A.R.T./New York Theaters, is a retelling of an event from 18th-century Japan that has spawned an impressively large number of movies (including one surreal misfire from 2013 starring Keanu Reeves) as well as TV series, artworks and comic books. (“Chushingura” is an umbrella term for the works inspired by the so-called Ako incident.)Now it’s the turn of the upstart New York company Amaterasu Za, which produces bilingual works rooted in Japanese sources and art forms. The show’s writer and director, Ako Dachs, also pops up at regular intervals as a narrator in English; the rest of the text is in Japanese, with simultaneous translation projected in supertitles whose synchronization can be haphazard. (The multitasking Dachs also did the period costumes and leads Amaterasu Za.)The tale is set in motion when, as so often happens, someone finally loses patience. Lord Kira (Hiroko Yonekura) is a scoundrel who, on a fateful day at Edo castle, taunts Lord Asano (Yasu Suzuki) one time too many. Asano attacks Kira and wounds him. Nobody dies in the skirmish, but Asano has broken the castle’s rules by “unreasonably” drawing his sword. Not only must he commit ritual suicide, but his estate will also be seized, and his samurai retinue and staff will be dismissed.Back at Asano’s home in Ako, his chancellor, Oishi (Tatsuo Ichikawa), rallies the samurai, now known as ronin because they are without a master, in a campaign to avenge Asano and restore his clan’s honor.While this suggests a lot of action, the vast majority of the show, which takes place on a fairly small stage, is dedicated to chatty palace intrigue, as if we were eavesdropping on conspirators. When there is a possibility that the unseen shogun might reinstate the fallen clan, some of Asano’s followers are bereft at the prospect of losing their excuse to kill Kira. Honor-bound duty has a messy way of turning into personal revenge.Yasu Suzuki, left, who plays Lord Asano, with Hiroko Yonekura.Melinda HallDespite writing that can be confusing — we are not told, for example, how Oishi’s group of 56 ronin ended up just 47, or maybe a supertitle zipped by too quickly — the story moves at a steady clip. And Dachs’s decision to have women play some of the male roles, most prominently Kira, is very effective.Gender-blind casting is, of course, not uncommon in Japanese theater, and Dachs herself is a former member of that country’s all-female Takarazuka Revue company (she is a familiar presence, under the single name Ako, on New York stages, most notably in Leah Nanako Winkler’s “Kentucky” and “God Said This”). That the actors portraying samurai wear headpieces in the traditional “chonmage” style, in which a ponytail is folded back over the top of the head, creates a sense of androgynous uniformity. (Mitsuteru Okuyama did the wigs.)So yes, “Chushingura — 47 Ronin” is far from the best show out there. But right now, this sprawling tale of loyalty to rigid codes certainly is unlike anything else on a New York stage.Chushingura — 47 RoninThrough Nov. 6 at A.R.T./New York, Manhattan; amaterasuza.org. Running time: 2 hours. More

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    Danielle Deadwyler Is the Beating Heart of ‘Till’

    After critically acclaimed turns in “Station Eleven” and “The Harder They Fall,” her latest role hit close to home. That’s why she was hesitant to take it on.Danielle Deadwyler’s eyes are an instrument that she can play with precise control.In HBO Max’s postapocalyptic drama “Station Eleven,” they stare into your soul as Deadwyler’s graphic novelist character, Miranda, soaks in the world around her. In Netflix’s all-Black western “The Harder They Fall,” they’re the last thing a baddie sees before he’s killed by Deadwyler’s quippy gunslinger, Cuffee.And in her latest film, Chinonye Chukwu’s “Till,” about Emmett Till, the 14-year-old whose gruesome murder in Mississippi in 1955 by white supremacists helped spark the civil rights movement, they often fill your entire screen, tortured and unblinking in shocked grief, eyelids fluttering in painful remembrance. Though the actress has been an outsize presence in smaller screen roles in recent years, “Till” is her first lead part in a feature film.“I’d been reared in the history, but I didn’t know the intimacy of it,” Deadwyler, 40, said of Mamie and Emmett’s relationship in a recent interview on a rainy evening at the Park Lane Hotel in Midtown Manhattan. “So this was a chance to show what it meant to be Mamie both in public and in private, and how she was intentional about and navigating those two identities.”Deadwyler’s expressive eyes are only the beginning of her critically acclaimed performance as Emmett’s doting mother, Mamie Till-Mobley. Reviewing the film for The New York Times, Manohla Dargis praised Deadwyler’s range. “With fixed intensity and supple quicksilver emotional changes,” she wrote, “Deadwyler rises to the occasion as Mamie, delivering a quiet, centralizing performance that works contrapuntally with the story’s heaviness, its profundity and violence.”Deadwyler with Whoopi Goldberg in “Till.”Lynsey Weatherspoon/Orion PicturesDEADWYLER GREW UP with three siblings in southwest Atlanta, the daughter of a legal secretary and a railroad supervisor. Her mother, she said, was intent on giving the children a diverse cultural life.“My mom was like, ‘You can’t go to U.G.A,’” she said, referring to the University of Georgia. “She had intentions for us to get out of a certain comfort zone.”As a youngster, Deadwyler dabbled in theater and dance, taking her first dance class when she was just 4 after her mother saw her shimmying to “Soul Train,” and falling in love with theater in high school.But she didn’t necessarily want to be an actor, she said, nor did she even fathom becoming one.“It was just a part of my life since I was a kid,” she said, sitting cross-legged on the couch in a loose white button-up over black slacks and black crew socks. “It was lifeblood.”She stayed close to home for college, majoring in history at Spelman while continuing to perform in plays. She earned a master’s degree in American Studies from Columbia in New York, writing her thesis on sex-positive representations of women in hip-hop. (In 2017 she earned a second master’s degree, in creative writing at Ashland University in Ohio.)Whoopi Goldberg, an Outspoken StarThe comedian and co-host of the ABC talk show “The View” is known for her provocative opinions — and controversies.‘The View’: Since 2007, Whoopi Goldberg has been the often-irascible moderator on the daytime talk show, helping it become one of the most important political TV shows in America.Holocaust Comments: Earlier this year, Goldberg was suspended for two weeks from “The View” after she said repeatedly that the Holocaust was not about race. She later apologized.On Living Alone: After three marriages, Goldberg told us in a 2016 interview that she knows she doesn’t “want somebody in my house.”A Decades-Long Career: In 2019, the Times podcast “Still Processing” discussed  Goldberg’s career, from her days as a boundary-pushing comedian to her role as professional curmudgeon on “The View.”When she was rejected for the women’s studies graduate program at Emory University in Atlanta — “I cried in the bathroom at the trust fund where I was interning,” she said — she turned to teaching at an elementary charter school for two years. But with her youthful looks and wiry frame, Deadwyler struggled to be taken seriously. “Quinta Brunson’s character on ‘Abbott Elementary’ looks young, but she has a teacherly presence,” Deadwyler said, clutching her knees to her chest. “I just looked young — I was fresh out of grad school. The kids were like, ‘What grade are you in?’”But then came her big break: a role as the Lady in Yellow in “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow Is Enuf,” mounted by True Colors Theater in Atlanta in 2009.Screen work soon followed, including the lead in the 2012 TV drama “A Cross to Bear,” playing a homeless, alcoholic mother. She also began booking small television roles: the antagonist LaQuita Maxwell on Tyler Perry’s prime-time soap opera “The Haves and the Have Nots,” a recurring role as Yoli on the Starz drama “P-Valley,” and memorable parts in FX’s “Atlanta” and HBO’s “Watchmen.”The latter was the performance that came to mind when Patrick Somerville, creator of “Station Eleven,” was looking to cast his Miranda, the artist whose graphic novel drives the show’s narrative arc.“Her eyes can do anything,” he said. “You can feel how substantial the person is inside her whether or not she’s talking.”He put her through a lot of last-minute rewrites, but “she was never concerned with change,” he said. “She was always her own center. I was always impressed by her unbelievable confidence.”Deadwyler in “Station Eleven.” The show’s creator, Patrick Somerville, said, “You can feel how substantial the person is inside her whether or not she’s talking.”HBO MaxHER BIGGEST LEAP to date, “Till,” is one she almost didn’t take.Mamie Till-Mobley is best known for insisting on an open-casket viewing for her son’s corpse, to show the world what a mob of white men did to him, but the film focuses on her transformation from shellshocked parent to fervent activist. “My reps sent me the script, and I was like, ‘Do I want to do this?’” said Deadwyler, who is the single mother of a 12-year-old son, “because it’s a joyous endeavor, but it’s a painful one, too.”In the end, the role of Mamie resonated in her bones.For her audition, she submitted a self-tape that included the scene in which she knots a tie around Emmett’s neck — using her son, Ezra, as a stand-in — as he prepares to go down to Mississippi, telling him to “be small.” Then, in a video call with Chukwu, she re-enacted the moment when Mamie sees Emmett’s corpse for the first time. (“I warned my son, ‘Hey, man, you might hear some weird noises,’” she said.)Chukwu, the director, said she knew immediately that she was watching something special.“When I’m casting, I look at whether actors can communicate a story with their eyes,” she said. “Are they able to get underneath the words in a nonverbal way? Are they willing and able to dive into the work in a way that demands a vulnerability and focusedness? I saw all of that in her audition tape.”Deadwyler’s wordless ability to act with her whole body informed how she shot the film, Chukwu said.“I knew that I wanted the audience to see this Black woman’s humanity and that faces would be important,” she said. “But when I saw how much command and power Danielle had, I leaned into that even more.”Mamie’s testimony scene in the courtroom, for instance — a seven-page powder keg of grief, frustration and rage — is shot in one long take. Chukwu said she originally planned on eight or nine other setups, but when Deadwyler received a standing ovation from the cast and crew on the first take — a close-up on her face — Chukwu decided: She didn’t need any more.Deadwyler said the weight of Mamie’s suffering, her choice to fight battles for future generations even when she knows she cannot win in the present, settled into every part of her body on set. But the minute they wrapped for the day, a waiting car would take her home, Mahalia Jackson gospel songs on the stereo.“It’s a sonic shift,” she said. “It’s the same thing with Mamie: There’s a private self and a public self.”The director Chinonye Chukwu planned to focus on faces all along. But “when I saw how much command and power Danielle had, I leaned into that even more.”Simone Niamani Thompson for The New York TimesYet there were lighthearted moments on set that reflected Deadwyler’s sense of humor. “At first I thought she was very serious, and that she’d get very annoyed with me, because I’m not,” said Whoopi Goldberg, who plays Mamie’s mother and served as a producer of the film. “But she is also very silly.”Despite the film’s enthusiastic reception among both critics and audiences — it currently has a 99 percent fresh score on Rotten Tomatoes — it was a project that took more than two decades to reach the big screen, Goldberg said.“People would say, ‘You know, nobody wants to see that story,’” she said. “You’d say, ‘No, people do want to see it.’ I guess it was the reckoning that happened that finally got people interested in telling these stories.” (“Till” is the second project focused on Mamie and Emmett’s story to be released this year, after the ABC mini-series “Women of the Movement.”)“It has modern-day resonance,” Deadwyler said, adding that she has discussed the story with her son because “it would be neglectful for me to not talk to him about the possibilities.”AFTER THE PUBLICITY TOUR for “Till,” Deadwyler plans to take a moment — just a moment — to soak it all in. She can also be seen starring alongside Zoe Saldaña in the new Netflix limited series “From Scratch,” based on Tembi Locke’s memoir about an American student who falls in love with an Italian chef. And she has a few film projects in the works, among them Kourosh Ahari’s sci-fi thriller “Parallel” and Netflix’s star-studded airport Christmas thriller “Carry On.”“I want to collaborate with people,” she said. “And I’m looking forward to being approached for more projects, vs. doing 80, 100 auditions per year.”In the meantime, after being told that her face can be seen in ads atop New York taxis, she marveled at her change in fortune, though she hadn’t seen one yet. “I would like to go quietly into the dark,” she said, laughing.Deadwyler’s laugh is a curious thing, a sound you haven’t heard much onscreen: It’s a deep, rumbling, full-bodied “HA HA HA” that you can hear echoing down the hall long after the door closes. “Me, a serious person?” she says, eyes twinkling. “No.”I ask what else people get wrong about her.There’s that laugh again.“Everything.” More

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    In a Musical About Penicillin, Superbugs Take Center Stage

    “The Mold That Changed the World” focuses on the physician who discovered penicillin. And it offers a message: Don’t take antibiotics unless you really need them.WASHINGTON — Robin Hiley’s eyes rolled when he recounted the night in 2016 that a friend, an infectious disease doctor, asked him what seemed like a crazy question: “Wouldn’t it be a great thing to have a musical about antibiotics?”Hiley, a composer and songwriter who is the artistic director of the Charades Theater Company in Edinburgh, was skeptical. Though the troupe calls itself “theatre with a social conscience,” antibiotics — or more precisely the threat of antimicrobial resistance, which can lead to death when common germs evade treatment — seemed a bridge too far.But the friend, Dr. Meghan Perry, was persistent, passionate about what she conceded was “this wacky idea.” And so it is that “The Mold That Changed the World,” a musical about Alexander Fleming, the Scottish physician and microbiologist who received a Nobel Prize in 1945 for discovering penicillin, is playing this week (through Sunday) in Washington.The show traces the life of Fleming, from his days as a young private in Britain’s Royal Army Medical Corps who later became a medical doctor, through two world wars and his famous discovery. It also offers a glimpse into a dark future — one predicted by Fleming himself — where antibiotics no longer work because deadly “superbugs” have learned to evade them.It also has a neat twist: a chorus of real-life health care professionals and scientists, who play soldiers, lab technicians, reporters — singing and dancing with the rest of the cast. They include people like Mario Sengco, a scientist at the Environmental Protection Agency who also sings in the Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington.Emily Bull, as Rose, comforts a wounded soldier played by Scott Armstrong in “The Mold That Changed the World.”Michael A. McCoy for The New York Times“How often can a musical deliver a lifesaving message to society?” he asked.The danger Fleming foresaw is, in fact, already here. Experts estimate that antimicrobial resistance leads to 1.2 million deaths around the world each year.And the problem — known by its initials, A.M.R. — is getting worse, because the drugs were overused during the coronavirus pandemic, said Dr. Rochelle Walensky, the director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (The show opens on Nov. 1 in Atlanta, home of the C.D.C.; Dr. Walensky will participate in a panel discussion before the performance.)At a discussion before Thursday night’s performance at the Atlas Performing Arts Center here in the nation’s capital, Dr. Rick Bright, former director of the federal Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, made the story personal: After a cut he sustained while gardening led to an antibiotic-resistant infection, he spent a week in the hospital, and almost lost a thumb. It took seven antibiotics to cure him. Another panelist, the writer Diane Shader Smith, lost her 25-year-old daughter, who had cystic fibrosis, to a superbug infection.In Edinburgh, that is precisely what Dr. Perry was worried about when she pitched her idea to Hiley, who said he gravitates “toward historical stories that have a social impact.” He began reading about Fleming, he said, and “saw this potential of a story and started to begin to understand the global impact of A.M.R. And the seed was sown, so to speak.”The musical features a chorus of real-life health care professionals and scientists, who play soldiers, lab technicians, reporters — singing and dancing with the rest of the cast.Michael A. McCoy for The New York TimesThey received funding from the British Society for Antimicrobial Chemotherapy, which in turn led to backing from a powerful figure: Dame Sally Davies, who was then Britain’s chief medical officer. She was so concerned about antimicrobial resistance, she said, that it is now on Britain’s “risk register,” along with pandemics and bioterrorism, as a security threat.The show has had sold-out runs at the Edinburgh Fringe festival and has also played in London and Glasgow — with mold spelled “mould.” It opens with Fleming, played by Jeremy Rose, at the end of his life, encountering an otherworldly, barefoot Mother Earth figure named Rose, played by Emily Bull.Rose, the Mother Earth character, hovers over the story as a kind of narrator, bringing Fleming back and forward in time. Two ethereal-looking circus performers, dressed in flowing psychedelic colors, appear throughout the musical, spinning on an acrobat’s wheel. Hiley envisioned them as the “Gram twins,” representing two different types of bacteria: Gram-positive and Gram-negative. (Penicillin treats Gram-positive infections.)The audience sees the young Army private bidding farewell to the London Scottish Regiment, where he has served for 14 years. (“Private 6392, this mess hall honors you!” the cast sings.) Soon it is 1914, and Fleming is in Bologne, France, tending to soldiers — some from his old unit — facing death from exposure to poison and shrapnel wounds that turn into deadly infections.He cries at the uselessness of it all: “These men came to war prepared to die to protect their homeland, their families, their friends — not to be poisoned by gas, gangrene, harmless cuts; infected by horse manure on the fields on which they fought!”Fleming, later seen in his bacteriology lab at St. Mary’s Hospital in London, is a rumpled, earnest figure. He was apparently not the neatest of scientists, and the show riffs on other scientists who frown on his untidy habits. (“It’s clean and tidy we adore,” the chorus, dressed in lab coats, sings. “So sterilize those beakers! Disinfect that glass pipette!”) But that very untidiness led to his world-changing discovery.In 1928, while experimenting with common staphylococcal bacteria, Fleming spotted a ring of mold in a petri dish he had left by an open window while he was off on vacation. He was astonished to see that the mold had killed the germs. But that is not the end of the story.More than a decade passed before his discovery could actually be put to use. It took a couple of polished Oxford University scientists, Howard Florey and Ernst Chain, to purify the mold called penicillium notatum so that it could be tested on mice, and then people, and manufactured in mass quantities. They shared the Nobel with Fleming.A panel discussion at the Atlas Performing Arts Center included, from left: the composer and songwriter Robin Hiley; Sarah Despres of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services; Bethany Brookshire, a science writer in Washington; Dr. Rick Bright; and the writer Diane Shader Smith.Michael A. McCoy for The New York TimesOne of the biggest challenges in modern medicine is that drug companies don’t want to invest in developing new antibiotics; it is not that lucrative, and if germs keep evolving to evade new drugs, the market potential is limited. In bringing the show to Washington, Dame Sally said, she hopes to persuade Congress to pass a bill, the PASTEUR Act, that would offer incentives for companies to innovate. (The name, a play on the famous scientist Louis Pasteur, stands for Pioneering Antimicrobial Subscriptions To End Up surging Resistance.)“We have a market failure,” Dame Sally said.Looking ahead, Dr. Walensky said, “addressing antimicrobial resistance is going to be the next chapter because it was the thing everybody was worried about before the pandemic.”As “The Mold That Changed The World” winds down, Fleming finds himself in the future, aghast at what humankind has wrought. With so many people taking antibiotics unnecessarily, and farmers using them to prevent and treat disease in livestock and increase productivity, modern medicine is no more equipped to handle bacterial infections than the young Fleming was on the battlefield.The message, Dr. Perry said, is clear: “Don’t take an antibiotic unless you really need it.” She harked back to when she and Hiley were brainstorming at the cafe in Edinburgh, and to the message she had written in block letters atop their storyboard: “Antibiotics are precious.” More

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    ‘Life of Pi’ Will Come to Broadway

    Lolita Chakrabarti’s stage adaptation of Yann Martel’s award-winning novel will begin preview performances on March 9.The theatrical adaptation of “Life of Pi,” about the tales of a teenage boy stranded on a lifeboat in the Pacific Ocean with a hyena, a zebra, an orangutan and a Bengal tiger, is coming to New York this spring.Following an energetic run in London, where “Life of Pi” won five Olivier Awards, including best new play, the show will come to Broadway’s Gerald Schoenfeld Theater with preview performances starting March 9 and an opening night slated for March 30. Casting has not yet been announced.The show, written by Lolita Chakrabarti and directed by Max Webster, is an adaptation of Yann Martel’s acclaimed 2001 novel, which won the Man Booker Prize and inspired a 2012 film. It uses intricate puppetry to bring the story’s animal characters to life, with the seven performers who play the tiger collectively awarded best actor in a supporting role at the Olivier Awards.In The New York Times, the critic Matt Wolf wrote that the appeal of the production in London’s West End “lies not so much in blunt pronouncements as in the visual wonder of a bare stage yielding to richly imagined life.”In a statement, Chakrabarti called the show “a story of survival which all of us can fundamentally relate to after the effects of the pandemic.” She added that “to be able to tell this story the way I imagined it, to create the world using my references and viewpoint, has been an extraordinary gift.”Before coming to Broadway, “Life of Pi” will make its North American premiere at the American Repertory Theater at Harvard University. More