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    ‘The Skin of Our Teeth’ Review: A Party for the End of the World

    Thornton Wilder’s antic play, from 1942, packs in an ice age, a deluge and midcentury décor. This Lincoln Center Theater production is the maximalist revival it deserves.No fossil evidence suggests that a giant ground sloth ever composed a symphony or that a Devonian fish split the atom even once. And yet, have human beings really proved their worth? We have brought the world calculus, the sonnet, no-knead bread. But think of what we have inflicted: environmental devastation, species collapse, atrocities of various complexions. Humans keep surviving. We’re fit that way. But when you think about it — should we?Thornton Wilder’s “The Skin of Our Teeth,” a formally inventive, constitutionally melancholy Pulitzer Prize winner from 1942, usually ticks the box for yes. An antic ode to human resilience, written as America was entering World War II, it follows the Antrobus family as they face down an ice age, a deluge and a very human catastrophe. Somehow, they always come through.“We’ve come a long ways,” George Antrobus, the dad, says. “We’ve learned. We’re learning. And the steps of our journey are marked for us here.”And yet the revival that opened at Lincoln Center’s Vivian Beaumont Theater on Monday, which is to say somewhere in the mid-Anthropocene, isn’t so sure. Under Lileana Blain-Cruz’s gorgeous, restive direction, this production sides not so much with George, the inventor of the wheel and alphabet, but with Sabina, the Antrobuses’ vampy maid, who maintains a healthy skepticism toward the whole of the human race.“I used to think something could be done about it,” Sabina says. “But I know better now.”We meet Sabina at the top of the play, in the living room of the Antrobus family’s flower-bedizened home in Excelsior, N.J. (The exuberant design, by Adam Rigg, with radiant lighting by Yi Zhao and climate-disaster projections by Hannah Wasileski, suggests a midcentury postmodern aesthetic.) She resents her work as a maid, and because Wilder never met a fourth wall he couldn’t smash, she resents the play, too.“I hate this play and every word in it,” she says, before throwing down her duster like a mic drop. Sabina is played by Gabby Beans (“Marys Seacole,” “Anatomy of a Suicide”), a ferocious actress and a Blain-Cruz regular who demonstrates her comic gifts here. Those gifts are ample. And they come beribboned and frilled.Gabby Beans as Sabina, the Antrobuses’ vampy maid. Richard Termine for The New York TimesShe and Maggie Antrobus (Roslyn Ruff, eternally excellent) await the return of George (James Vincent Meredith, solid), commuting home from the office as an ice sheet descends on the Eastern Seaboard. (It’s the 1940s, but as the pet dinosaur and mammoth suggest, it’s also the Cretaceous period. Or possibly the Paleolithic. Just go with it.) In the second act, set in Atlantic City, the Antrobuses have survived, only to encounter a Genesis-style flood. The final act shows them and their children, Henry (Julian Robertson), who used to be called Cain, and Gladys (Paige Gilbert), back in Excelsior, picking themselves up after a seven-year war.In most productions, the particular conflict is left ambiguous; here Montana Levi Blanco’s shrewd costumes intimate that this is the Civil War. And in most productions, the Antrobuses are white, but here they are Black, which lends that choice particular resonance, twisting the knife of human cruelty. This strategy doesn’t warp the play so much as deepen it. (The playwright Branden Jacobs-Jenkins has contributed just a few lines — trading a reference to the Broadway classic “Peg O’ My Heart” for a shout-out to “Bootycandy” — to make all of this work.)The play takes place in the 1940s, but as the pet dinosaur suggests, it’s also the Cretaceous period. Just go with it.Richard Termine for The New York Times“The Skin of Our Teeth” is a big play. It has to be. The whole of humanity doesn’t fit tidily into three acts, even assuming as much frame-breaking foolery as Wilder allows. In Blain-Cruz’s maximalist hands, it gets even bigger, the stage overflowing with flowers and lights and dazzling, playful puppetry. She favors a high femme aesthetic — luxuriant, Instagrammable — and no other serious director working now has such a profound interest in visual pleasure and delight. She also has a killer playlist (Rihanna, Dua Lipa). Because this is the way the world ends: all bangers, no skips.For some, this too muchness, married to Wilder’s bookish mischief, will pall. The intermission doesn’t come until nearly two hours in, and as I walked out into the lobby, an usher asked me if I planned on leaving. Apparently a lot of people do. But if you stick it out, you can find real power in the way the lush design garlands a profound suspicion of human endeavor. Blain-Cruz relegates Wilder’s emphasis on endurance for something more questioning, mostly by giving space to the questions that are already there.“How do we know that it’ll be any better than before?” Sabina asks, as humanity prepares to pick itself back up again. “Why do we go on pretending?”When the curtain rises on the third act, the furniture lies ruined. But the natural world has revived. The stage blooms with a thousand flowers, and when characters traverse that meadow, it feels like a dream. Do we really want to wake from it? When “The Skin of Our Teeth” first opened, in 1942, the world wobbled on the threshold of disaster. Now, it seems, we are wobbling again. Maybe it always seems that way. Human life could continue indefinitely. Or the end of the Anthropocene might be nigher than you think. And that would be terrible, wouldn’t it? But look how the flowers grow.The Skin of Our TeethThrough May 29 at the Vivian Beaumont Theater, Manhattan; lct.org. Running time: 2 hours 55 minutes. More

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    Interview: Every Rain Cloud Has A Silver Lining

    Julia Bentley and Elan Butler on A Little Rain In Monaco

    It’s been a tough couple of years for theatre makers. And even if it isn’t Covid making life hard, it’s venues cancelling shows for completely different reasons! So our heart went out to Sober Riot Theatre who’s show, A Little Rain In Monaco, suffered that last minute cancellation earlier this year. But like all good theatre, it couldn’t be kept down for too long, and the show has now found a new stage to play on at The Pleasance (11 – 14 May).

    A Little Rain In Monaco rasies that all-important question; how you or your team would handle the PR disaster of punching Phillip Schofield live on TV? For those with longer memories, you may recall it wouldn’t be the first time the deity of daytime TV has been attacked live on TV, just ask Carter USM’s Fruit Bat how it affected their careers!

    And because ET is always here to support young theatre makers, we couldn’t really not ask them to sit down with us for the afternoon and tell us a little more about the show and it’s journey just to make it to the stage. So that’s just what we did, with Producer Julia Bentley and writer Elan Butler.

    Let’s get this out of the way first, how excited are you that you’re finally going to get the play on the stage after everything you’ve been through just to get here?

    Very, VERY excited. It’ll be special for us and the cast to finally have an audience reacting and (hopefully) laughing at this comedy drama. That adrenaline rush before a show is something that we’ve all missed and it’s just so special to get to do it at The Pleasance. The months preparing and repreparing have given us some big learning curves early on, which makes the final showing even more satisfying. We’ve been so lucky to have a supportive and friendly team of people working on this, who’ve poured everything into rehearsals and deserve a successful week of shows. The Pleasance has been a real shining light for us and we can’t thank them enough, we’ve been buzzing for weeks. 

    Have you ever considered the troubles you’ve gone through are karma for your play suggesting (in jest we hope) that national treasure Philip Schofield should be punched live on TV?

    I (writer Elan Butler) feel like Phillip has been watching over the whole project since it began, him being the three things we all learnt about God in R.E, omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent. We have joked in the past about there being some sort of Monaco curse, like we’re the last few characters in a Final Destination movie waiting for another catastrophe to happen…maybe we should have considered a character punching Holly Willoughby instead…maybe that would have had less consequences. 

    It feels like the play has more than a passing nod towards cancel culture. Is that a fair assessment?

    It’s fair, but I (Elan Butler) feel like it talks about cancel culture in a way that isn’t too cringeworthy for the regular theatregoer. I think there’s a dangerous line to walk with anything too media or internet based in the theatre realm, it can quickly become quite generic and samey, we’ve aimed to avoid that.

    Really, the main protagonist is on the verge of cancellation throughout the play but it’s about the inner motivation that drives him to walk that tightrope that’s interesting. What makes these celebrities enjoy being the bad guys? Is it an adrenaline rush? Is it validation? Or is it something deeper? 

    And there are themes of class, identity and mental health – are these common threads to what you have experienced yourselves trying to bring your show to the stage?

    The characters in the play all struggle with the class difference between them, it’s what subconsciously drives them to do and say most things. The illusion that the grass is greener with money and fame, or perhaps not, is a discussion I’ve always strived to get in this play, even from the earliest draft. It’s something I’ve (Elan Butler) personally thought or assumed, like most immersed in the arts “industry”, I put industry in quote marks because I don’t even like the term, another thing reflected in the play that represents a somewhat class divide. Topics of identity also derive from real life. I’m very much interested in portraying the struggle I’ve seen of identification whilst immersed in lad culture or other repressive environments. 

    What do you hope the play will say to people, what do you want them talking about as they grab a drink at the bar afterwards?

    I’m ( Elan Butler) cautious of saying what I hope because everyone takes different things and whatever I say it will be the opposite. I once heard Simon Stephens say a play should be like a football match, the audiences should be roaring and booing and kicking and celebrating, I agree.  I don’t want to see people endlessly talking, that’s Chekhov, I want to see action! So I’d hope people walk out feeling like they’ve witnessed a champions league final that finished 5-5 and went to extra time and penalties. Iwant it to be an experience, not just a play, and have them consider what really makes them happy, then put all their attention into it. 

    Sober Riot is another theatre company that has come out of East15, and not the first we’ve had the pleasure to chat to. Is there a reason that place seems to be producing so much fresh young talent?

    The Contemporary Theatre Course at East 15 is definitely a breeding ground for fully-rounded theatre makers, it celebrates the art of making your own work and creates life-long partnerships with people that enable your work to flourish. We sort of accidentally (yet thankfully) became writers/directors/musicians/producers, during our time at East 15, where we began a journey (like many others) thinking acting was the only route for us. Often people find their people on the CT course, who they want to collaborate and make work with, or sometimes people discover they solely want to work individually, and that’s great too. It’s sort of a beautiful coincidence. It proves the only limitation to getting work as a creative is yourself, and that the possibilities of what can be created are endless with the right mindset. We have Uri Roodner (Head of The BA Acting And Contemporary Theatre Course) to thank for that!

    The show now plays for 4 nights at The Pleasance, what plans do you have for after that? Or are you too scared to plan further ahead?

    We’ve got a lot of work in the pipeline currently around a handful of projects, which will all be revealed across the course of the year, so everything depends on time, capacity, and dare we say it…funding. As a lot of emerging companies, we often have plans and projects in place, but then an opportunity is thrown our way that we weren’t expecting and steers our work into exciting, yet unexpected routes. At the moment what we’d love is to organise a small ‘A Little Rain In Monaco’ tour around regional theatres, so more communities can experience the show outside of London. We’re a Midlands born company, so bringing the show back to our home county is something we always strive for with our work. 

    And finally, are you going to invite Philip Schofield, we could help get an invite to him if you like?

    We haven’t…yet! We’re not too sure how Philip would enjoy being fictionally punched on live TV, possibly he’d enjoy it? Who knows! But if the original contemporary theatre scene is Philip’s jam, then somebody get a big slice of bread to match. It’s a very tempting offer. Philip, if you’re reading this, would you like a ticket? 

    Many thanks to Julia and Elan for their time to chat. A Little Rain In Monaco will play at The Pleasance between 11 and 14 May. Further information and bookings can be found here. More

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    Interview: Sarah Milton on ‘4’

    Playing at Park Theatre’s Come What May Festival

    Playing as part of Park Theatre’s Come What May Festival, Bruised Sky’s 4 tells the story of one woman’s response to a sexual assault. Writer and performer Sarah Milton approaches the topic by looking not just at sexual assault but at the effects of a toxic friendship, as well as crisis of identity. 

    It’s a subject that feels never far from the news right now, but as the statistics show, it’s also something that is still seriously under-reported and certainly one where the perpetrators are more often than not never held accountable for their actions.

    We sat down with Sarah to find out more about the play, why such stories are so vital and what her hopes are for the play and its audiences.

    (Trigger warning: This interview contains references to sexual assault and rape.)

    What was the starting point for you to write 4?

    I was sexually assaulted myself in my early twenties, but I didn’t really acknowledge it until I read the #MeToo hashtag in 2017. That movement was a period of awakening for me; not only did my behaviours and experiences that had followed the assault make a lot more sense, but I reflected heavily on how powerful denial had played into my survival. I was alarmed at how ingrained the expectation of assault and inappropriate behaviour was from men by women pre #MeToo and how easy it was to excuse; how the patriarchal systems in place had made it seem almost forgivable. Denial as a survival mechanism was certainly the starting place for writing 4.

    It’s clearly a very personal play, how easy is it to address this in front of an audience?

    I never write a play initially with the intention of it being read or watched – I try to write with truth and wildness of thought and then edit heavily before it’s sent to others. It began as a cathartic release of writing before it becomes more structured and less personalised, but the truth of it for me is still very much in the bones of the play. I was expecting it to be a very difficult process, but so far it’s felt empowering more than anything – like I’ve taken back the control that was taken from me all those years ago.

    Is there a risk that by examining toxic friendships alongside this story that the focus moves away from the actual perpetrators? Are we at risk of blaming the wrong people about what happens?

    I think because we live in a patriarchal society, we’re always at risk for blaming the wrong people for the wrong things. However, this play isn’t about perpetrators, it’s about survival. In the play, the friend of the survivor very much represents the expectation of the behaviour from men and how, as younger women pre #MeToo, we were almost encouraged to feed in to that behaviour in order to successfully attract them, which we are frequently told throughout our lives that we’re unsuccessful or undesirable if we don’t manage to attract a man. This is obviously ludicrous. I imagine the audience may want to blame her at times, but really we should be blaming the system that’s been built for her and led her to justify becoming a bystander to herself.

    Reported sexual assaults are just a fraction of how many are believed to actually occur each year, do you feel plays such as 4 can help empower women to report crimes with more confidence?

    Unfortunately, I think it’s going to take a lot more than a play to encourage women to report a sexual assault. It’s going to take a stronger judiciary system, an immense increase of faith and trust in the police and the law and more funded, professional, appropriate and timely support for survivors. That said, I do hope that the play will help add to the mounting voices highlighting the need for those things to change.

    The play was originally meant to play at the VAULT Festival, and was long listed for the VAULT FIVE mentoring programme, how vital are such festivals and programmes for emerging artists and those looking to test new work?

    VAULT and models like it are vital for artists like myself. They’re relatively affordable, lower-risk and allow voices a well-marketed platform that may otherwise remain unheard. It was devastating when VAULT was cancelled again this year, but a decision that was ultimately necessary. Audiences understand VAULT now and are more likely to take a risk on what they book for and see too. It was amazing to see how theatres attempted to rally round and house lost shows, proving that the industry recognises the value and importance of the festival and programmes like it. However, there’s a fear of taking on new voices in bigger theatres generally… But, audiences want them and with the right marketing support and authentic investment in those voices from the bigger buildings and producing houses, they will come. I think the financial losses from the pandemic are going to affect theatre’s ability to do that for a while though.

    What do you want people to leave 4 thinking about?

    I want people to leave 4 with a sense of how immediately a sexual assault can change your life, how denial can play a strong role in surviving but ultimately how resilient survivors can be. So often victims of sexual assault on television or film are either portrayed as overly hysterical and/or physically shaking, or the character’s assault also results in their death and the detectives (often male) talk about them and focus on finding the perpetrator, whilst also battling a deep, personal trauma of their own. Now, the former can of course be a person’s response – every reaction is different for every survivor but 4 is displaying a less publicly explored reaction; one very similar to what I experienced. 4 shows a woman functioning and going about her life immediately afterward, at times with humour, as I did and navigating her world with a changed and shifted understanding of it. But through it all comes the hope, and ultimately the joy, the protagonist realises she can find again.

    And after the Park Theatre run, do you have plans in place or are you waiting to see how the show is received first?

    We’d love the show to have further life, but there’s nothing solidly in place just yet. So, watch this space…

    Photo credit @ Lauren Mabbett Photography

    Our thanks to Sarah for her time to chat to us in such an honest way. 4 plays as part of Park Theatre’s Come What May Festival between 16 to 21 May. DIscounts are available for booking for more than one show in the festival.

    Further information and bookings can be found here. More

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    ‘Great Comet’ Producer Hasn’t Paid Royalties, Composer Says

    Dave Malloy has filed a petition seeking the help of an arbitrator in his dispute with Howard Kagan over international productions.The creator of “Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812” says the show’s producer has refused to fully compensate him for international productions of the musical, and the artist is now going to court in an effort to force payment.Dave Malloy, who wrote the book, music and lyrics for the show, has filed a petition in New York County Supreme Court asking a judge to appoint an arbitrator to settle his dispute with the producer Howard Kagan.In the court documents, filed on April 11, Malloy says he is owed “hundreds of thousands of dollars” for productions of the musical that took place in Japan in 2019 and in Korea in 2021.“The Great Comet,” adapted from a section of the classic Tolstoy novel “War and Peace,” arrived on Broadway in 2016 after a series of Off Broadway and out-of-town productions, starting at the nonprofit Ars Nova. The musical, starring Josh Groban, won strong reviews and was nominated for 12 Tony Awards, but it won just two, for scenic design and lighting, and closed at a loss in 2017.The production endured several previous public controversies. In 2016, Ars Nova asked the courts for help in a bitter dispute with Kagan over how the nonprofit was credited in the show’s Playbill. That dispute was settled, but then the next year the Broadway production imploded after a controversy over who would play the show’s lead role after Groban’s departure, and amid questions about its finances.Lawyers for Malloy and Blue Wizard Music, the publisher of “Great Comet,” declined to comment; lawyers for Kagan and his producing entity Comet Lands on Broadway did not respond to requests for comment. More

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    Tony Award Nominations Postponed Because of Coronavirus Delays

    This year’s Tony Award nominations will be delayed by nearly a week, administrators of the awards said Friday, because enough actors have been out with coronavirus cases that it has become difficult for awards nominators to see all the eligible performances.The Broadway League and the American Theater Wing, who present the awards, said nominations would now be announced on May 9, instead of May 3. The awards ceremony itself will remain, as scheduled, on June 12.The change reflects the extraordinary disruption the coronavirus pandemic has caused to this theater season. Multiple shows — on Broadway, Off Broadway, around the country, and in Britain, Canada and elsewhere — have been forced to cancel performances and shift schedules because of coronavirus cases.On Broadway several shows have been scrambling to open before the eligibility deadline, which was scheduled to be April 28, but will now be May 4. Four shows — “Paradise Square,” “Macbeth,” “Plaza Suite” and “A Strange Loop” — canceled multiple performances because of coronavirus cases. (Among those testing positive were the “Macbeth” star Daniel Craig and the “Plaza Suite” stars Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick.)Even now, when all shows are running, some actors are still out. That has made it hard for the nominators to see all the eligible shows with all eligible performers onstage.There are six shows scheduled to open next week, including “Funny Girl,” “The Skin of Our Teeth,” “A Strange Loop,” “POTUS,” “Mr. Saturday Night” and “Macbeth.” More

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    Interview: East Meets West In Ealing

    India Gate comes to Questors Theatre

    Questors Theatre has only recently found its way onto our list of venues we’ve visited, and we do wonder just why it has taken us so long to do so. But now we know it’s there, we are overjoyed to share it with everyone. For an amateur theatre, they are still willing to be brave in their programming, and India Gate, coming to their stage at the end of April, certainly seems to evidence that bravery.

    India Gate marks the country’s 75 years of independence and is made in collaboration with the Punjabi Theatre Academy. The play follows Edwin and Emily Lutyens and their connection with the Indian community in London and Delhi during the construction of the All India War Memorial (India Gate). Their story is interwoven with that of the Sikh Martyr Udham Singh, whose extraordinary fight for India’s independence from the British Raj began in 1919 in Amritsar.

    So it was a pleasure to chat with Questors’ Howard Shepherdson and Punjabi Theatre’s Tajinder Sindra, who have worked together to bring the show to the stage.

    What has brought you together to make India Gate?

    Howard: I was involved in some outreach for the Questors looking at arts and community groups that we could get involved with and an ex colleague put me in tough with Tajinder. I remember looking at the Punjabi Theatre Academy website and thinking they would be interesting to get involved with in some way. We first met on Zoom, then face to face, and came up with the idea of a workshop production together to see how we got on. Alex Marker, the Questors Artistic Director, was keen on the idea and suggested a couple of performance nights in July las year.

    Tajinder: I had been thinking of doing something for the 75th anniversary of Indian independence and suggested it might be a good theme for the workshop. I had also directed a play in the past for the 50th anniversary of India Independence day in 1995.

    Since Howard and I started working together in May 2021 we have gripped the interest for both communities, British and Indian, to enjoy the production and provide an opportunity to see the India freedom movement and British support for them, such as Lady Emily.

    Also, it felt a great opportunity for Questors Theatre and Punjabi Theatre that working under their joint vision and mission to bring audiences in the Questors Theatre and generate a long term partnership between the two play groups.

    And what brought you to the story of Edwin and Emily Lutyens?

    Tanjinder: The play was never intended to be a documentary; it is about storytelling and real people. It is the human story behind the history and that makes it accessible. I have seen and meet people who were affected by the Amritsar massacre and now we can provide a wider platform for people who have less knowledge of the incident.

    Howard: Certain moments of history are revealed in the play but most are shown indirectly through their effects on people’s lives.  You could describe the play as a collection of personal stories.  and we have not tried to cover every complex detail, especially the political turmoil dominating events. There are clear signposts for the audience as to where a scene is set and during what dates. All designed to make the story telling easier.

    For many of us, thoughts of Indian culture on the stage and screen will be filled with bright colours, dancing and drums, are we going to be treated to any of these in India Gate?

    Howard: The play is set in the 1930s and 40s so dress codes were certainly not flamboyant amongst the British characters. However, the Indian roles are more colourfully costumed. And there are drums, even fireworks and a Punjabi song, but it is not a Bollywood style play by any means.

    Tajinder: Moreover we are trying to preserve the old Punjabi folk style; poetry, singing and highlight the values of our tradition.  Also, bringing Punjabi culture in the play for abundance and entertainment. Generally when people think of Indian culture they immediately think Bollywood, whereas Indian culture is made up of 50 separate states, each rich in their own traditions. With India gate, we are giving an insight into just one of these that is Punjabi culture.

    How has it been co-directing the play, when we assume you both come with very different styles and ideas?

    Tajinder: British theatrical culture is very different to that in the Punjab. For a start they rehearse for much longer and go deeper into the technical aspects of a play. My productions are perhaps more spontaneous, based on more historical sagas, and India Gate focuses on one of the richest, that is Punjabi cuture. It is cast from both our companies and my actors have enjoyed working with the people from Questors and with Howard as a director.

    Howard: For a full stage production at the Questors, someone had to take the lead and Tajinder let me take that role. He has been really valuable in helping keep a sense of authenticity, especially with the Punjabi characters. He has also given great advice on music and costume and what I have loved most is his passion for community and shared understanding. Although India Gate is a serious play, we have fun in the rehearsal room and our joint WhatApp group is busy day and night!

    Is it importantant bringing Indian culture to the stage?

    Howard: Absolutely, especially in a place like West London where there is a significant Indian population.  We have a unique shared cultural history, even if it has not always shown the British in a good light.  Theatre is a place where communites can have real dialogue and learning. Working with all different cultures is important and we need to see their lives on the stage. There are some brilliant Indian actors around now and we need to see more of them.

    Tajinder: This has been our mission of Punjabi Theatre Academy to keep Punjabi culture alive, and performance is a great way to achieve this.  Working with the Questors is a great opportunity to expose ourselves to a new audience and connect with mixed audiences.  More India production please everywhere. Put them on and people will come!

    And do you hope that it will bring in a very different audience to the theatre?

    Tajinder: From the two workshop productions last year over 50% of the audience came from an Indian background, which was so satisfying. We also had five West London MPs attending. All this goes to show that there is an audience out there hungry for this type of project.

    The play is in English and Punjabi, are you planning surtitles or will the language barrier not be a problem to understand what is happening?

    Howard: We are using some subtitles both in English and Punjabi but there will not be any simultaneous translation because the play speaks well for itself and the story telling is clear.

    There’s been lots of talk recently about reviewing our history books to better represent the less appealing sides of British occupation and the empire – is this something India Gate is likely to touch upon?

    Tajinder: Yes, both directly and indirectly. There is a line that Howard wrote for one of the characters who is being congratulated on the birth of India as a new country. She replies that it is not a birth, but regaining something that was taken away. We need to recognise that. It is not rewriting history but perhaps revisiting it from a different perspective.

    Howard:  I prefer to describe it as carefully stripping away ther layers of interpretation and discovering the truth. The history of the British in India is both complex and controversial and so are some of the events amongst a divided Indian population. It befits us all to understand that history properly. There is a lot we can celebrate even when we strip away the excesses of Empire.

    What do you hope audiences will take away from watching the play?

    Howard: One audience member spoke to me a few days after seeing a workshop performance last July and said “I learnt so much and wanted to carry on learning. So I went home and did hours of research on Google”.  But people also felt they had spent time listening to events unfolding in the lives of some fascinating characters. “I didn’t realise that these events happened” was another common reaction.

    Tajinder: We also want people to realise that our shared heritage has made both nations what we are today and that understanding can only bring us closer together.

    And after the run at Questors, what next?

    Howard: We will be touring the play to Birmingham Crescent Theatre and the Lacemarket Theare in Nottingham during July and also hope to perform at the Nehru Centre for the Indian High Commission.  If we can raise the money we have ambitions to take the play to India.

    Thanks to Howard and Tajinder for taking their time away from regersals to chat to us. India Gate opens at The Questors Theatre on 30 April. Further information and tickets can be found here. More

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    The ‘POTUS’ Playwright Is Making a Farce of the Patriarchy

    “POTUS” will be the writer Selina Fillinger’s Broadway debut. “I really didn’t feel like I needed to do any research. I have been all of those women,” she said.Three days before the first preview performance of her first Broadway production, the playwright Selina Fillinger perched in the middle of the empty mezzanine of the Shubert Theater, peering down upon the set. “I’m sorry, I can’t look away,” she said. “It’s like a crew of fairies and angels, just making things happen.”Down below, the crew building the set was buzzing around a re-creation of a women’s restroom in the White House — star-studded carpet, cream and gold wallpaper, coin-operated tampon dispenser. “It’s so specific,” Fillinger said of the tampon machine. “And of course it would be paid.”Fillinger’s new play, “POTUS,” is a comedy about seven women in the inner circle of the president of the United States. It takes place on a day when the president’s various sex and sexism-related scandals are blowing up so spectacularly that the women in his life are prompted to take increasingly desperate measures to keep his administration afloat.The idea began developing in Fillinger’s mind during Donald Trump’s run for office. “I was fascinated by the women in his orbit,” she said. And she noticed that, with every new headline about a man abusing women — Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein — “there was always at least one woman, right there at the elbow.”The stars of the play include, from left, Vanessa Williams, Julianne Hough, Julie White, Suzy Nakamura, Lilli Cooper and Rachel Dratch.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThe result is a farce about women’s relationship to male power — how they access it, what they are allowed to do with it, and who else they subjugate along the way. “I love farces, but they typically rely on sexist and racist tropes,” Fillinger said. So she wrote a comedy about women struggling to adhere to the rules of the patriarchy, which “literally causes a farce on a day-to-day basis.”In crafting the play’s characters, Fillinger wanted to create the most combustible combination — among them are the president’s weary first lady, Margaret (Vanessa Williams); his perfectionist personal secretary, Stephanie (Rachel Dratch); and his cocky convicted-felon sister, Bernadette (Lea DeLaria) — and dropped them onto a White House set that rotates dizzily like a turntable as the crisis mounts.As for the president, he is a cipher, appearing in the play only as limbs jutting occasionally into view. “I was interested in purposefully and consciously failing the Bechdel test,” Fillinger said, referring to the challenge popularized by the cartoonist Alison Bechdel that a movie ought to feature two women who talk to each other about something other than a man. “If you take the man out of the room, patriarchy still exists and we still play by its rules.”Also, she found the president character too tedious to actually write. “He’s an amalgamation of so many presidents,” she said, “and also several men that I’ve done group projects with in high school.” The play’s full title is “POTUS: Or, Behind Every Great Dumbass Are Seven Women Trying to Keep Him Alive.”When Trump announced his candidacy, Fillinger was an undergraduate at Northwestern University. Now, at 28, she is building a notable body of work, and her farce is being lifted straight to Broadway without an out-of-town tryout. Even as she prepared to open “POTUS” in New York, she was writing for the Apple TV+ series “The Morning Show” in Los Angeles; she joined the writer’s room for its third season and has managed both jobs by flying cross-country and back, sometimes every weekend.When I met Fillinger on a Monday morning, she was jet-lagged and unfed in a plum jumpsuit and pale purple face mask, a look she described as “chic mechanic.” We talked until she politely announced that she should probably locate the nearest Starbucks instant oatmeal or “I might pass out.” When I asked about her relationship to her own success, she said, “I really didn’t expect it,” then joked of an alternate life: “I thought I was going to spend my early 20s WWOOFing or whatever.” (WWOOFing: visiting farms through the World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms program.) “It has been a dream, and also, it has been a tremendously steep learning curve.”News stories have become a tool for Fillinger, seen her on the “POTUS” set, who then takes them into unexpected directions.Celeste Sloman for The New York TimesFILLINGER WAS RAISED in Eugene, Ore., “by hippies in the woods,” she said. Her father is a sustainability-focused architect, her mother is a social worker who works as a partner in her father’s firm, and Fillinger grew up without television, except for the occasional “Sesame Street” episode and a VHS box set of Charlie Chaplin movies she watched when she was sick. “I read a ton and I wrote a lot of stories and I played a lot of pretend in the woods next to my house,” she said.When she arrived at Northwestern planning to study acting, “it was an intense culture shock,” she said. “There were all these kids from LaGuardia” — the New York performing arts school — “and they knew all the playwrights’ names, and all the directors’ names, and all the actors’ names, and they had all grown up going to Broadway shows, and I had no awareness of any of that.” But she now sees the upside to having waded into the theater world “when you don’t necessarily know what is being done, and what is not being done.”As a sophomore, Fillinger took an introductory playwriting class that she found so difficult she assumed it would be her last. But the professor, Laura Schellhardt, encouraged her to submit her work to a university-wide playwriting festival, and Fillinger was selected.The play was based on a 2013 news story about a Canadian bar that serves a shot garnished with a mummified human toe, and the American man who walked into the bar and swallowed that toe. At the time, “I didn’t know if I belonged at Northwestern. I didn’t feel, necessarily, good enough to be there,” Fillinger said. So she transplanted the story to a fictional Oregon town, and shaped the bizarro news item into a drama about a middle-aged woman fighting to save her bar from being bought by an outsider — a big-city guy whose initial display of dominance over her is to gulp her prized appendage.When Fillinger first entered that class, “she came in and identified as an actress, and she said that several times,” Schellhardt said. “The second she took ownership over the piece, her hold on the identity of being an actress began to loosen. She could tell her own story and not just to be an instrument for someone else’s story.”News stories became a tool for Fillinger — a snapshot of the culture that she could twist into new meanings and steer into unexpected directions. As a senior, she took part in a Northwestern program meant to simulate a play commission, and worked with the Northlight Theater in Illinois to develop “Faceless,” inspired by the story of a white woman in Colorado who is recruited to join ISIS through an online network. The simulation turned real when Northlight staged the play in 2017.Later, her 2019 play, “Something Clean,” a Roundabout Underground production, imagined the parents of a college student convicted of sexual assault in a scenario modeled after the Brock Turner case. After reading Turner’s parents’ statements in that case, “I was just fascinated by the cognitive dissonance that would have to go into their survival,” Fillinger said; the play imagines the mother shielding her identity so she can volunteer at a rape crisis center. The Times critic Ben Brantley called it a “beautifully observed, richly compassionate new drama,” adding that Fillinger “uses traditional forms to frame toxic contemporary subjects” and “keeps readjusting our point of view” along the way.Kathryn Erbe and Daniel Jenkins in “Something Clean,” an earlier work by Fillinger that Roundabout Theater Company staged in 2019.Maria Baranova for The New York TimesFillinger is still affected by current events, but “you don’t necessarily see the stitching as much” in her more recent works, she said. In “The Collapse,” commissioned through the Manhattan Theater Club’s Sloan Initiative for developing new plays about math and science, environmental devastation plays out in miniature in a California apiary, where a bee researcher is dying alongside her hives. When it came time to write “POTUS,” she said she didn’t focus on any particular political figures. “I really didn’t feel like I needed to do any research,” she said. “I have been all of those women at some point.”All of her plays bear certain imprints: they are interested in interrogating women in power, in finding human tenderness and absurd comedy even in great tragedies, and in placing several generations of women in conversation.“It’s a shame that people stop writing love, sex and violence for women after a certain age,” Fillinger said. But exploring women at middle-age and older, as she tends to do, is also a canny defense against those who might reduce a young woman’s work to mere autobiographical stenography. When she does write a 20-something woman, “everyone projects assumptions upon that character,” she said. “All of my plays have so much of me in them, but not necessarily in the ways that you would expect.”AT A TECHNICAL REHEARSAL the week before previews were to begin, the “POTUS” cast practiced on the rotating set for the first time. Under a bust of the suffragist Alice Paul, Dratch, wearing nude shapewear and a lace dickey, writhed on the floor in an inflatable pink inner tube as DeLaria stomped around in camo cargo shorts and a T-shirt that read “SHUT UP, KAREN.” Lilli Cooper, playing a White House reporter, was strapped to a portable breast pump affixed to bottles sloshing with milk; both Cooper and her character recently had a baby. As the set rotated, Suzy Nakamura, who plays the White House press secretary, raced among the rooms to hit her cue at the briefing room podium and stumbled over the president’s disembodied legs, which had accidentally been left splayed on the floor. The cast fell into laughter.“When it gets toward this time of night, they get tired and they get hysterical,” the director, Susan Stroman, said; it was 9 p.m. and nearing the end of the day’s second rehearsal stretch. “Sometimes we laugh so hard that we cry and we have to stop.”Stroman said that when she first read the play, she was startled to find a farce that put women not in secondary or tertiary roles but primary ones. “I couldn’t believe that it had all these things going for it, and that it was really funny,” she said. Then she met the playwright, and “I couldn’t believe she’s 28,” said Stroman, a five-time Tony-winner who directed and choreographed “The Producers.” “She’s an old soul. She carries the spirit of women who have come before her.”If Fillinger were to play a “POTUS” character, it would be Stephanie, the type-A personal secretary who is always subverting her own self-doubt into an exacting performance of perfectionism.She knows that her early success means that she is leaving a very public trail of the emotional and intellectual state of her 20s. Early works are “time capsules of you — sometimes in a good way,” she said. “But they also hold all of your blind spots, and all of your little work-in-progress moments, all of your ignorance and all of your youth. It’s so mortifying to have yourself, frozen at 22, out in the world, just being read.” But that’s been a gift, too: “I’ve been forced to become not so precious.”As “POTUS” nears its opening, she is still tinkering. “I’ve been reworking the ending a lot to try to calibrate the tone,” she said. “POTUS” drives frantically toward a shift among its seven women, who begin to question why they are working so hard in the service of male power. But how that change will shake out — and what it will cost — is somewhat open to interpretation.Fillinger’s relationship to optimism in her work, she said, is complex.“As a young person and a woman, I’m expected to perform hope for people, without having the luxury of expressing my rage,” she said. “But I feel like rage can be hopeful as well.” More

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    Review: ‘Hangmen,’ Offering the Last Word in Gallows Humor

    Martin McDonagh’s rollicking comedy about capital punishment, now on Broadway, feels like a perfect fit for our unjust times.Welcome to Broadway’s fleurs-du-mal moment, a rare blossoming of funny plays on deeply unfunny subjects. At Circle in the Square, there’s “American Buffalo,” about creeping criminality; at the Friedman, “How I Learned to Drive,” about pedophilia; at Studio 54, “The Minutes,” about white triumphalism. In all of them, comedy is a top note, perfuming the odor of rot underneath.But no fleur is as mal right now as the one that opened on Thursday at the Golden Theater: “Hangmen,” Martin McDonagh’s rip-roaringly hilarious yet profoundly horrific play about the abolition of capital punishment. Or rather its endurance. For in this deeply cynical tale, set in the final days of the death penalty in England, we see how “justified” murder, no longer state sanctioned, survives by other means.Among those other means is Harry Wade (David Threlfall), the country’s second most famous executioner. We meet him, in a chilling prologue set in 1963, as he hangs a man named Hennessy, convicted of raping and killing a young woman. That Hennessy (Josh Goulding) goes to his death maintaining his innocence is neither here nor there to Harry, who sees his job as morally neutral. He merely wants to dispatch the man with dispatch — and does so in an unnerving coup de théâtre.Threlfall’s titanic performance in this Royal Court Theater and Atlantic Theater Company production offers the most terrifying incarnation yet of the author’s acid misanthropy. Which is saying a lot after plays like “The Beauty Queen of Leenane” and “The Lieutenant of Inishmore” that portray the busy small-mindedness behind big ugly doings. His Harry is in some ways the flip side of Smike, the poor mangled wretch he played in “The Life & Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby” in the early 1980s. Harry, too, is Dickensian, but more like one of Dickens’s monstrous, red-eyed lawyers: He is cruel, peremptory and, with his dyed hair and prissy bow tie, dandyish in his self-regard.The act of Parliament that suspended the death penalty in 1965 does not erase those traits. Most of the play takes place that year, after Harry has retired from public service to the pub he runs, with an executioner’s charm, near Manchester. There he still cuts an imposing if thin-skinned figure, bullying everyone in sight: Alice, his keeping-up-appearances wife (Tracie Bennett); Shirley, his 15-year-old daughter (Gaby French); and a bevy of barflies who together form a composite idiot.But do not pity the poor hangman with no one to kill; his self-pity is more than sufficient. Despite his protests of “no comment,” it therefore takes very little coaxing for a cub reporter (Owen Campbell) to get him talking for an article timed to the second anniversary of Hennessy’s execution. Out it all pours: the vainglory, the moral equivocation and especially the furious envy of “Albert bloody Pierrepoint,” the “Number One hangman all them years,” with hundreds more executions to his credit.Somehow McDonagh sets these instigating events in motion and assembles the core characters without your even noticing the structural work going on. But now he plays two wild cards. One is a character we met in the opening scene but who returns unexpectedly: Syd (Andy Nyman), Harry’s mousy and possibly pervy former assistant. Syd, too, burns with suppressed fury, Harry having ratted him out for some minor peccadilloes involving other people’s genitals.Threlfall, left, as a former executioner who runs a pub, with Allen, center, as the menacing Mooney, and Jeremy Crutchley, as a detective and pub regular.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThe other is the menacing Mooney (Alfie Allen), a “spiffy young devil” (as Ben Brantley called the character in his review of the 2018 Atlantic production) and an obvious outsider with his mod clothes and inscrutable Oxbridge palaver. In Allen’s convincingly reptilian performance, Mooney is an anarchic force, deliberately jangling everyone’s nerves with non sequiturs and contradictions that invite an effort to pin him down. Is he a sociopath or merely an entitled toff?But he is un-pin-down-able, making short work of those who try. When a suspicious detective named Fry (Jeremy Crutchley) does his best to scare him off, it goes nowhere:Fry: You wanna watch yourself, lad. We’re not all friendly up north.Shirley: I am!Mooney: She is.Fry: She’s not everyone, is she?Mooney: She could be if she tried harder.Shirley, whose own mother calls her “moody on the inside and mopey on the outside,” knows this makes no sense but likes Mooney anyway and soon goes missing.Having built its gallows, the play proceeds to hang someone on it. Or perhaps several people, for there is at least mild comeuppance all around. If Harry’s attempts to promote a glorious history instead of his true one are thwarted, so too are almost everyone else’s delusional hopes. Only the cronies come out ahead, having netted for their troubles some free beer and a lot of excitement.Which makes the audience another crony, with beer available at the theater bar. And in Matthew Dunster’s whirlwind production, we certainly get a lot of excitement, even if it’s the sickly kind laced with danger. (The fight direction, by J. David Brimmer, is superb.) Dunster also extracts every possible laugh from each dour situation; even as Hennessy resists the noose in mortal terror, Syd tells him, “If you’d’ve just tried to relax you could’ve been dead by now.”From left, Crutchley, Gaby French, Allen, Horton and Hollis in the play, with sets by Anna Fleischle.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesLogic, for these characters, is a backward-flowing sewer, and ethics, likewise, are useful only to the extent they can be inverted into excuses for bad behavior. That Harry is loosely based on Harry Allen, England’s actual last executioner, a man who was indeed less famous than the real Albert Pierrepoint, suggests the play’s diagnosis of the human propensity toward violence and revenge is neither fictional nor narrow; there’s a reason the title is “Hangmen,” plural.This is bracing, yet something nevertheless bothered me about the play, even aside from a few logical holes and untied knots, when I saw it downtown. Though, like most of McDonagh’s earlier work, it trades in the comedy of human pride in awfulness — a bottomless resource — the contrast between its profoundly serious subject and its baroque construction is more unsettling here than usual. Something about a hanging (let alone two) is hard to let go of, and if you laugh as much as I did at “Hangmen,” you may later find yourself asking whatever for.That this feeling of disproportion is fainter in the Broadway production than in 2018 may provide a clue to the answer. The cast, with just four holdovers, is certainly better tuned now, and Threlfall makes a big difference. Also successfully amped up for Broadway are the sinister sets and pinpoint costumes by Anna Fleischle.But it’s more than that. Four years later, the world feels coarser — perhaps it always does — and not just because death has become much more visible in streets and wards and wars. So has people’s indifference to it, and to all kinds of suffering and unfairness. McDonagh’s cynicism feels closer to our own, or rather we to it. “Hangmen” now plays less like a clever exercise and more like news, with an unnerving headline. Garden-variety amorality is not a far throw from violent psychopathology, it reports, or for that matter from what we call justice.HangmenThrough June 18 at the Golden Theater, Manhattan; hangmenbroadway.com. Running time: 2 hours 20 minutes. More