London Theater: John Lithgow stars in a great new play

 I recently spent three days in London, seeing four plays. Three were new, and one of these, Giant by Mark Rosenblatt, was terrific--the best new play I have seen since the 2017's The Ferryman by Jex Butterworth.  Giant won this year's Olivier Award for Best New Play, and dramatizes a true episode from late in the life of renowned British author Roald Dahl (James and the Giant Peach). In 1982 Dahl wrote a review of a book that documented the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in 1982. In the review Dahl was harshly condemning of Israel, accusing the country of genocide (strong echoes of our current situation). He angered many readers by interchanging criticisms of "Israel" and "the Jews" in his review, receiving international condemnation. In this play a representative of Dahl's publisher flies to London to convince him to retract his statements, feeling that 1. they were wrong and 2. they would lead to catastrophic decreases of his book sales. Playwright Rosenblatt writes crackling, intelligent, stimulating dialogue, crisply directed here by Nicholas Hytner. It was as if the smartest, must lucid people you know were in the same room debating the Israel-Palestine catastrophe, making all the best points for each side, and leaving you not entirely convinced about your own point of view. As the acerbic Dahl, John Lithgow (Third Rock from the Sun, The Crown, Dexter) was stunning. He covered a range of emotions from pathetic to arrogant to domineering to vulnerable. Mostly, he was unwilling to admit to others what he likely realized internally--that he had overstepped, made anti-Semitic comments, and hurt many people who loved his work. This was the best portrayal I have seen of an intelligent person who tries to use their brilliance to best a rival, regardless of the morality and impact of their stand. 

Giant was the best kind of play--one that left me thinking and questioning my views for days afterwards. Not just about Palestine, but about the responsibility of leadership and fame. Does an artist's individual creative brilliance that we so value require modification when it treads on social and political hot potatoes? Also, how do we think of an admired artist when they express unpalatable views? This is an especially relevant questions in an era in which some feel all art should be political, or interpreted politically. If so, how does the artist now differ from an elected politician? How should we judge them? The play offers no simple solutions, but is highly provocative, and I strongly suggest you seek in out if it plays in your area. 

On a similar theme was Retrograde by Ryan Calais Cameron, a young black playwright now making his name. This was another play based on a true event, this time from the life of black Bahamian-American actor Sidney Poitier (1927-2022), a trailblazer for black actors gaining good Hollywood roles (A Raisin in the Sun, Blackboard Jungle, In the Heat of the Night). But in the 1950s, at the start of his career and at the height of McCarthyism in the US, he was asked by his management firm to denounce the great black singer/actor/role model Paul Robeson. Robeson had been a Communist party member and an early mentor of Poitier. The play deals with some of the same themes as Giant: what is an artist's responsibility to his career and public vs. his responsibility to his own ethics. Here, unlike Giant, the artist's point of view (against McCarthyism) is clearly the "right" view, unlike Dahl's antisemitism. So the play lacks some of the tension and poignancy of Giant. Here we are pulling for Poitier from minute one of the play, rather than being torn by his statements and actions. This difference often makes the play more melodramatic, with clear heroes and villains. For example, the manipulative manager who tries to strongarm Poitier into the denunciation becomes an evil caricature by the end of the play. The acting here was excellent (esp. Ivanno Jeremiah as Poitier and the unctuous Stanley Townsend as his manager's lawyer), but the play lacked the depth of Giant. 

Entertaining but less provocative was The Fifth Step, a new play by Northern Irish playwright David Ireland. This is a two person play, composed of the verbal sparring of two men in the same AA alcohol recovery group. Over 90 minutes they debate about their lives, loves, and foibles. One is the older, experienced sponsor of the younger, less assured man, who memorably begins the play with the line "I think I might be an incel". I had to look up this GenZ slang...an incel is an "involuntarily celibate" young man unable to attract women. Ireland writes topical, witty, fast moving dialogue. Perhaps predictably, the play turns 180 degrees midway, as the younger man begins to see through the false security of the older one and begins to gain the upper hand in the verbal war. The message seems to be that we all are vulnerable and have no real control, so one might as well just muddle along and make the best of it. Second message: men are pretty lame, and always competetive. I enjoyed the actors (Martin Freeman, Jack Lowden) and direction. The play was funny and entertaining, if not memorable.