"Crown of Shadows," Richard III, Titanic 3D, and Celebrity Apprentice

Oh boy, another "catch up" post, you say? No, these productions really do have some things in common.

Crown of Shadows, the new (world premiere) production at Round House, is subtitled The Wake of Odysseus, and is a modernization of the story of Penelope and her son, Telemachus, who needs to grow the hell up before the state makes this presumed widow marry a despicable new king.

Normally I would come home after the play (which I saw on my usual Preview Thursday subscription night last week) and give a bit of a recap. But truthfully, I was tired, the play itself was draining, and I was distracted by the actress who played the ambitious little schoolgirl/love interest because she reminded me too much of my niece (incidentally a two-year RHT student summer program alum).

Julia Proctor (as Calliope) with Michael Morrow Hammack (as Telemachus), courtesy of Round House Theatre Facebook page.

I recognized Ms. Proctor right away from her previous RHT performance in The Picture of Dorian Gray (which apparently I didn't recap back when I saw it in 2009, though I can say I liked it a LOT better than the Washington Post's reviewer did). The characters she played were strikingly similar, both in their naive ambition and in their ill-fates.

Her resemblance to my niece was particularly disturbing because it made me realize that, as a then-aspiring actress, Rachel may have had to make some difficult casting decisions. With both Crown and Dorian, Ms. Proctor was required to simulate being sexually assaulted, with semi-nudity involved. Though I didn't discuss these choices with Rachel, I knew they never would have been hers. Just as well she switched from theater to business major.

I'll note also that I continue to enjoy seeing familiar actors in shows around town. Crown had a bit of a Sabrina Fair cast reunion, as both Proctor and Hammack had minor roles in the latter. (And, in checking my SF program, I see our pal Tom Story --from RHT's Next Fall, Ford's 1776--also played son of privilege, David Larabee.)

So this little segue leads me to the connection in the productions mentioned in the title of this post. And here I confess it isn't a particularly profound conclusion: In all of these, I see the corrosive effects of not power, but privilege.

In Richard III, which was read yesterday by my Shakespeare Readers group, I was especially struck by the differences between King Richard's battlefield speech and that of Richmond.

Richmond (oration to his Army):
...
If you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain;
If you do fight against your country's foes,
Your country's fat shall pay your pains the hire;
...

compared to a baser appeal from the tyrant himself

Richard (oration to his Army):
...
Remember whom you are to cope withal;
A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways,
A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'ever-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate ventures and assured destruction.
...

Don't worry, I won't belabor it for Titanic 3D - just think of the Cal Hockley character (played by Billy Zane). As with Telemachus and Richard, any attempt to deny his privilege of property is met with a pathological descent to subhuman violence.

Which brings us to Celebrity Apprentice. I've been wanting to talk about this show from the business perspective, but as my friend Patrick aptly pointed out, Celebrity Apprentice is to business as circus clown cars are to Transportation.

Heh!

Now, you know I am only watching this crap because of Clay Aiken. And while Trump and his privileged offspring are actually very well behaved compared with most of the celebrities (Clay most definitely excluded), the aggressive sense of entitlement is just simmering below their waxy surfaces. Though they clearly have several brain cells among the three of them, and are trained in spotting weakness, their main talent is telling Daddy Trump what he wants to hear. God forbid they lose their entitlements by displeasing the king.

As evidence I present to you Failure to Launch (video of full episode available on NBC.com until June 4), in which Daddy Trump petulantly fires Adam Carolla for the sin of not being surnamed Andretti (racing royalty), and Andretti for not being as smart about cars as his name would imply, thus displeasing the brand, Buick, that wanted an Andretti endorsement on the cheap.

Look at the presentations of the two teams (the "winning" team mispronounced the Buick product being sold, among other flubs), and then look at the childrens Trump telling Daddy that he did the right thing.

Okay, I'm done. I have no privilege, so I'm just a yammering jealous little what-not. And I still love Clay Aiken. *g*

love,
hosaa

Next Fall and 1776: Fear and Foresight

I'm now officially a resident of Ford's Theatre: I'm receiving mail there. Hee! Thanks to my buying my ticket for 1776 at the box office instead of TicketBastard, they had my membership information handy. So when I got to my seat yesterday for the matinee, there was an envelope taped to the arm rest. Inside was a very sweet note thanking me for my support, along with a tiny box of mints.

One of the other benefits of membership besides a permanent address) is being able to get tickets to the new education center across the street. Still, as I looked out at the huge long line to get into the center, I thought I'd wait a bit longer before making the attempt. The mission to support "preserving the past for the future" is one I can certainly get behind.

As an official resident of at least two theaters (the other being the Round House in Bethesda), I'm getting used to seeing familiar faces, so if there is any connection to be made between this production of 1776 and the last production I saw at RHT--Next Fall--it runs through actor Tom Story (link to year-old WaPo interview).

Tom Story ("Congressional Secretary"), with cast of the Continental Congress, 1776. Photo by Carol Rosegg for Ford's Theatre

Tom Story ("Adam") and Kathryn Kelley ("Arlene"), in Next Fall. Photo by Danisha Crosby for Round House Theatre

Other than one actor, you'd think these two plays had nothing in common. But they do in fact have much in common. Next Fall focused on the relationship between a gay Christian man ("Luke," played by Chris Dinolfo) and the parents (played by Kathryn Kelley and Kevin Cutts) whom he was unable to come out to, as well as between him and his atheist lover ("Adam," played by our Tom Story).

The fear of "otherness" is a strong theme in Next Fall--the otherness of sexual orientation and the otherness of religious belief. Fear of rejection, fear of differences, all lead to self-fulfilling prophecies.

In 1776, the differences between the property owners and the idealists were made more marked when the true issue came down to the otherness of the black slaves themselves. To the property owners (and it's not just a Southern thing--the leading "Cool Conservative" was Ben Franklin's fellow Pennsylvanian, Dickinson), it was about preserving wealth and status, which they argued encouraged the pursuit of wealth for all. (I'm pretty sure that's still a major argument for conservatives' tenets.)

The "Cool Conservatives," 1776. Photo by Carol Rosegg

Ultimately, in order for the Declaration of Independence to be accepted by the conservatives, the passage declaring freedom for black slaves had to be removed.

Which eventually led, of course, to the Civil War. And a century later, it could be argued, to the killing of Trayvon Martin, an unarmed black kid, by a white "neighborhood watch" coordinator. Similarly, it is the fear of the otherness of sexual orientation that has led to the bullying of, and subsequent suicides by, young gay kids like Tyler Clementi.

Fear of otherness continues to divide the United States of America. Unity must come from within our own hearts and minds. And that means keeping both wide open, regardless of our fears.

I'm probably as much a coward as any other white suburban matron. But I don't want to live in a world where middle-aged white ladies should automatically be fearful of young black men. Two episodes:

Sometime last year I was coming home by subway from a play. It was probably something at Shakespeare Theater, as it was a Sunday night. The evening before that, I'd just seen the bio-drama I Wish You Love about Nat King Cole at the Kennedy Center, which touched on the very same issues. So the issues of racism and distrust were very much on my mind as I headed for the elevator up from the Bethesda Metro platform that night.

I was alone on the elevator as the doors began to close, but then a young black guy (not wearing a hoodie, but still ...) got on the elevator with me. I had no time to even think about getting off, but I had already made up my mind not to fear a young black guy getting on a lonely elevator with me late at night. I didn't want to live in a world where a young black guy automatically frightens middle-aged white women. And I didn't want him to think we lived in that world, either.

So the dude stood near the front of the elevator, busy with whatever was on his phone, and kept his back to me. Forty-five seconds later, the door opened; he went off his way, and I went mine.

Everyone I told this story to at the time told me I should have gotten off the elevator when he got on. Sigh.

Then a few weeks ago, before going to a show at Shakespeare Theater (which is at the Gallery Place Metro), I killed some time by darting into the McDonald's at Verizon Center to have a quick bite. There was a hockey game that night, too, so the joint was jumping. There was a big group of young black dudes horsing around, not eating much, just there. They were very lively and enjoying themselves. I sat down in the section on the other side of the front door from them, and a (black) security guard came and stood right next to me, apparently blocking the kids' view of me.

I thought at first it was just because he wanted to be near the door. But later, a young black mother sat at my table (it was crowded, she asked if she could share). She and the security guard exchanged a word or two--the mother didn't feel safe at all with the black kids cutting up in the restaurant. The security guard shrugged his shoulders and said to the mother, "Well, she just sat down here."

Meaning me. Meaning, he came over to guard me because I was too stupid to know that I wasn't supposed to be there, that I wasn't safe.

I tried to reassure the mother that there was nothing to be afraid of--those kids were just "up" and enjoying themselves. They were ogling all the girls who came into the restaurant, calling them "dreamgirls" and what-not.

Anyway, for all of the lack of understanding that the security guard and the mother had about me, and all the lack of understanding that I had about that particular place and its citizens, I didn't want it to be about fear of otherness.

That's what freedom is all about, and if our Founding Fathers had known that, it might have happened for everyone a lot earlier.

Love, hosaa
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