I'm a self-professed theater geek who usually sees over 100 performances a year. This is where I'll get to share my reactions, work out my thoughts, and catalogue everything I see this year.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Compulsion
It has been some time since I’ve hated something as thoroughly and completely as the new play Compulsion playing at the Public Theater. I don’t even want to bother summarizing this play, so I’ll crib from the Public’s website.
“It is 1951 and Sid Silver is on a mission to be the guardian of one of the most moving and provocative accounts of the 20th century. Deeply moved by Anne Frank's diary, he is driven to bring her story to the American masses by promoting the book's publication and adapting the diary into a work of theater. Inspired by the story of Meyer Levin, COMPULSION…is part historical fiction, part investigation into what makes a man obsess, and part exploration of an untold dimension of Anne Frank's powerful and enduring legacy.”
What the synopsis doesn’t tell you is that Silver/Levin is a gigantic asshole whose actions become increasingly erratic and unforgiveable. He’s a man who started with the best of intentions but after he was forced off of writing the theatrical version of The Diary of Anne Frank, he becomes singularly obsessed with the ways in which he was wronged, eventually leading to wholly unforgiveable behavior like telling Otto Frank that he was Silver’s, “personal Nazi” intent on destroying him.
How a man turns evil is potentially compelling. But if you’re asking an audience to spend over two hours with someone so loathsome, you better have some pretty keen insight to share. And you damned well better work around to a stronger point than, “Well…he really believed in something.” Because you know who else believed in something really strongly? Hitler. And while one douchebag’s actions cannot be considered on the same level as the penultimate tyrant of the 20th Century, it’s the same sort of overblown comparison the playwright keeps making throughout the show.
It doesn’t help that Mandy Patinkin is playing Silver. The king of histrionics, he has two modes here: barely concealed rage and not at all concealed rage. He bellows. A lot. Soooooo much. Which isn’t necessarily his fault. The character is one note. Rounding out the three person cast are one man and one woman who inadequately portray a variety of characters. The man is pretty solid in one of his four roles. The woman…well, she’s a terrible actress with a voice made for educational children’s videos.
But I haven’t gotten to the puppets! Holy crap—the puppets!! There are a ton of them, but the only one that really matters is the Anne Frank one. And let’s just talk about one scene. I almost left at intermission but didn’t. If there’s one reason I’m glad I stayed, it’s because if I hadn’t I literally never would have been able to imagine the horrors of watching Mandy and his wife in bed with the Anne puppet. It’s his wife’s dream sequence, and she’s conversing with Anne. Since she’s also the voice of Anne, that presents a problem. Mandy to the rescue. So WITH MANDY PATINKIN AS THE VOICE OF ANNE FRANK (I’m sorry to get all capsy, but that really needs to sink in), the wife has a conversation with her puppet about whether Anne’s ghost might benefit from therapy. After all, it’s totally hard to HAVE DIED IN A CONCENTRATION CAMP!
I got all capsy again. I apologize. But it was such a truly horrifying moment that I ended up head in hands, trying not to laugh out loud and the blisteringly misguided, ham-handed, ridiculous, and borderline offensive nonsense on stage that I actually couldn’t look anymore.
I loathed this show. The author is working with fascinating stories that show how several people react when pressed to the extreme. But anything thoughtful or curiosity-piquing seems at best accidental as the play itself is written almost completely tangentially to anything involving clearer or deeper thinking. The only words that resonate in the show are Anne’s own, and even there, repetition and misuse wears you down. Bottom line: no matter how interesting the story, you can fuck it up by not having any actual insight into what makes people tick. And no one wants to be hollered at for more than two hours. Not just the worst thing I’ve seen recently. One of the worst I’ve seen ever.
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