The Dark Knight Rises

* * * * *
Seen July 21st, 2012 in RPX at Regal Fenway 13

*NOTE: I don't consider anything I've written below a spoiler - I'm not talking about intimate plot details or reveals. However, there are some pieces from this movie that, when discussed, may give you a pretty good idea of the film's direction. So if you draw a conclusion because of something I write and it turns out you're correct, don't say I didn't warn you.*

I'm not sure this quite qualifies as a review as much as a collection of my thoughts on the film and the series as a whole, but being so driven to write after coming home from a movie happens so rarely anymore, so I'm just going to run with it.

Much will be made of the conclusion of Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy. I suspect lots of well-deserved good things will be said. There will be some bad things said as well - to that, I can only say that everyone is entitled to their opinion. I know only what I saw, heard and felt, and I witnessed one thing that tells me that Nolan's film is a winner.

I've never seen, nor did I ever expect to see, so many people cry in a Batman movie.

Now, it's not all that surprising, I suppose. Nolan and Christian Bale's version of the Dark Knight has been a very different take from the very beginning. He's vulnerable, flawed, and so very, very human. And between the first two movies and this one, there's been over seven and a half hours to connect with him. What's astonishing is how well Bale makes that an incredibly difficult task until the very end. Every time you get close to identifying with Bruce Wayne in this series, he tends to go and do something deeply stupid to screw it up. Finally, in The Dark Knight Rises, you're able to feel for Wayne, because he's finally allowed to truly put on the table all the pain and suffering he's endured, and be weak because of it.

Of course, that's not to say he doesn't get over it when he has to...

The best part of this movie is that Nolan couldn't have possibly made it without making Batman Begins and The Dark Knight first. In one respect, it's a true sequel, drawing closely from the world and relationships established in the first two films to color its entirely self-sustaining story. There are strong ties to both Begins and Dark Knight, though I think it ends much more firmly connected to the first. That in itself is something that franchises run into trouble with, particularly action/adventure/superhero movies - this is not just another tale from Batman's long history featuring a new villain. In order to fully appreciate it, you need the understanding of some of these characters that can only be gained from the first two. But more than that, this movie reveals Nolan's plan for the franchise, and the Batman character as a whole. The strongest point of Batman Begins was its origin story, the birth of the hero. The Dark Knight outlined the villain, so strongly epitomized by Heath Ledger's Joker. It's important to specify that brilliant though Ledger's portrayal of the iconic archenemy is, "The Joker" is not the villain that Nolan needed to define in that movie. It's less about the actual man, and more about understanding what type of man would serve as the villain - the lengths they were willing to go to, the amount they were willing to risk, and their motivations for doing so. All of those elements set the standard for Tom Hardy's Bane, but more importantly, it draws the tightrope-thin line that divides these villains from Batman and Bruce Wayne himself.

So if the first two films established those standards, then The Dark Knight Rises establishes the stakes of the battle and wages the war. Because despite being "about" Batman, this movie is about Gotham. The whole series has positioned Gotham as the logically-derived theoretical end point of America's current social and economic predicament - a jewel of a city celebrated by those who can enjoy it, and whose weight crushes an ever-growing number who cannot. For all three movies, that unsustainable tension has been at the boiling point, and it takes very little for Bane and his backers to supply the small push needed to break. Much of the movie focuses on the backlash against the upper class, though the warning is blunted a bit since the "oppressed" used are, for the most part, rightfully-convicted criminals. But not all. There's one scene during the breaking that shows horrendous acts being carried out by prisoners as an in-uniform doorman does the same side by side. While the orange jumpsuits give a small barrier, look closely enough, and it's not hard to see some version of our own future, defined only by how far some of the marginalized are willing to be pushed.

Even more telling about Nolan's final Batman film is how little Batman is actually seen in it. I've always marveled that in Begins, the first shot of Bruce Wayne in the costume comes a full hour into the movie. Nolan was very dedicated to establishing how that persona came to be before we got the payoff of watching him jump off buildings and hit things. The same goes here - so much precious time is spent showing exactly why Gotham needs to be saved, and who it needs to be saved from, before the hero has an opportunity to do it. Ironically, my mind goes to the end of Marvel's The Avengers, when someone asks Nick Fury how he knows the supergroup will be back. His response is simply, "Because we'll need them to." Nolan painstakingly establishes his city in peril, all the while building up the people who would be integral in saving it. It's a beautifully planned trek through the muck to get to the icon, and it works, because when Batman finally comes in to save the day, we know exactly why; we know what is at stake and how it came to be endangered. The city's savior could not have returned at any other time, nor could it be anyone other than Batman. It's a phenomenal commitment to world- and conflict-building that is unparalleled in any other franchise that I can think of.

As expected, your normal cinematic elements are airtight as well. Bale's Bruce Wayne is still deeply layered and interesting, as are the people he surrounds himself with. In each of the movies, someone close to Wayne has been tested by his methods and disregard for law in the face of what is right or necessary, though the test in Rises is much more personal, heartbreaking and effective than the other two, great though they were. Anne Hathaway's Catwoman (neé Selina Kyle) doesn't fit as cleanly into the overall arc of the films, but she's a still fun addition that gives Batman both a foil and an ally as needed. There are enough hints of a backstory to keep her interesting and to tie her into Gotham's story, though not really enough to warrant another disappointing spinoff. Much focus has been placed on Joseph Gordon-Levitt's previously-unknown beat cop and how he may factor into the Batman canon, but his strength comes from being a phenomenally relatable everyman. Levitt plays John Blake so cool and controlled that in the rare moments when he does break out, whether from frustration or awe, it's really fantastic. I've been a huge fan of his for a long time, and between this and Inception he's finally begun to be the star he's capable of being. I guess I owe a lot to Nolan for that one...


But as always, Nolan's role as writer-director is what ties everything together, and he's done it masterfully once again. He has woven these stories, settings and characters together in such a way that links them inextricably - this story could only be about Batman, and only Batman could fit into this world. It's something he could only achieve by knowing exactly where his story begins and ends, and planning it to fit that structure from the very beginning. I'll be incredibly interested to see where Nolan goes next - what Nolan will be allowed to do because of his success with this trilogy really has no boundary; his is a blank check that will undoubtedly be paid in full once the project hits the screen.


I'm sure I'm not the first to make this comparison online (I haven't looked), but it's sort of unavoidable for me. Nolan laid out a three-part structure in The Prestige. How Begins is the Pledge and Dark Knight the Turn could each be a discussion unto themselves, but there's no doubt that Rises is the Prestige for Nolan. This film will be the one that lingers. Origin stories may be judged by Begins, and villains may be compared to Ledger's Joker. But more than anything else, Nolan delivers a complete, fully-functioning story arc in Rises, and I would guess manages to keep everyone happy. Fans of both the movies and Batman's comic-based canonic legacy can all leave happy. Nolan even manages to keep Warner Brothers happy, since he leaves the door open for someone else to pick up the franchise without another reboot, if they so choose.


And let's be honest - we all know they will. Nolan's legacy, his prestige, is how incredibly daunting those shoes will be to fill.

Movie Review: The Hunger Games

See March 23rd, AMC Boston Common Sorta-IMAX

**** (out of 5)

I will admit that I completely bought into the hype for The Hunger Games. When the third book in the series was released, my wife was working at a children's bookstore, and needless to say they were mobbed. She had read The Hunger Games at one point, and mentioned to me that it's something she thought I would like, but I didn't get around to it until the trailers started appearing for the film. It looked interesting enough, so I picked up the first book, and proceeded to read all three over one three week period. They flow very, very well that way. The initial previews set the right tone, and had me looking forward to the adaptation for months.

The quick version: In a dystopian North America, the citizens of Panem are divided into two classes: the well-to-do Capitol residents and the less fortunate residents of 12 outlying districts. 74 years ago, the districts rebelled against the government, only to be defeated. A condition of the treaty was that every year, each district must offer up one teenage boy and one teenage girl for gladiatorial combat as a reminder of the Capitol's dominance, with only one of the 24 participants surviving. The Hunger Games follows Katniss Everdeen, the female "tribute" from District 12, who has had only one winner in history. It follows her from the day of her "reaping" into the arena where she must find a way to outlast the other 23 participants in order to get back to her family and life in District 12.

If you've read the books, you'll be pretty pleased, I think. The film hits the highlights really well. The production design stays very true to what Suzanne Collins described in all areas - District 12, the Capitol and the Arena. While everyone's imagination will fill in details in a slightly different way, this is absolutely in line with how I pictured the world. Most of the major events from the book are present, though the significance of some have been adjusted one way or another.

The film's biggest strength is its star - Jennifer Lawrence plays Katniss with all the intensity and ferocity needed to appropriately set the stakes. She's more than capable of carrying the film on her shoulders, which is good, since she's in 90% of the scenes. She strikes a nice balance of determination and desperation when in the arena, and seems to carry the weight of at least her world very believably, mostly revolving around her younger sister back in the district. Lawrence is capable physically, too, and shows Katniss as resourceful - she looks right at home in the various deep-woods environments - and dangerous - she sells her archery skills really well throughout the film, and she seems like a legitimate threat to win from the beginning.

Having Collins as one of the writers probably paid off in deciding what scenes were necessary, and what could be cut without hurting the overall film. It also allowed her to add some context with scenes that weren't possible given the first-person narrative in the book. We see glimpses of the Gamemaker's control room, a la The Truman Show, that further the reality show, blood-for-entertainment feel for the event. It also gives some depth to Gamemaker Seneca Crane - mentioned in the book, but not seen. It would be easy to dismiss the character in charge of constructing booby-trapped arenas in which children fight to the death as evil, but Wes Bentley plays Crane as a dedicated TV producer, determined to give his audience the best show possible. Certainly out of touch, but that can be said of everyone in the Capitol. It's a job for Crane, one he takes pride in and seems to be quite good at. He becomes a part of the system he inherited and thrived in, but is not the ultimate sadistic villain he could easily degrade into.

The downside to the perspective change is that The Hunger Games stumbles a bit when trying to establish the level of emotional impact of the books. All of our information about other characters comes directly from Katniss in the book, and without that intimate assist, we're left without a ton of direction as to why we ought to care for much of the supporting cast. Because of that, relationships feel a bit shallow, and some of the dramatic emotional scenes end up a little unearned and hollow. Once again, this is something that fans of the books won't have an issue with (myself included), because we'll be able to fill in those details. Fortunately, the world is built well enough that even without the distinct personal connection, heavy events maintain some weight simply because of the situation these kids are thrust into - you can feel the emotional impact of a character's death as a victim of this brutal system, even if the emotional tie to Katniss doesn't play as clearly as it ought to.

If director Gary Ross in on board for the sequels, I do hope the studios insist on some more steadycam involvement. Handheld shaky cams certainly have their place, and can be used to establish a level of frantic activity that is appropriate for parts of the story, but it's overused here. Too often it becomes unclear who is doing what to whom - likely intentional at times to maintain their PG13 rating, but while I appreciate that, I would still like to be able to follow the action. Other than needing a more steady hand (literally), Ross does a fine job of translating to screen, and allows Lawrence to take the lead and be the heart of the film, as she should be.

Probably more than the book, this is very clearly part one of a trilogy. Efforts were made to build some tension between the districts and the Capitol that will pay off in Catching Fire and Mockingjay, and the film actually did a better job of identifying the ultimate antagonist than the book - I'm very much looking forward to that character getting more screen time and more impact as the films continue. Ultimately, The Hunger Games didn't really have a prayer of living up to the hype that was built around it, but this is certainly a well-made, entertaining first step that not only made me want to reread all three books, but also left some anticipation for the second film, currently slated for November 2013. Do yourself a favor and read the book before heading to the theater, but if you don't get around to it, you'll still find a good adventure with an intriguing setup that will probably drive you back to the book to fill in the little details once the credits roll.

Once more into the darkness...

I think this blog still exists purely for me to post about Sleep No More. It seems to be the only thing that gets me motivated enough to write.

After a road trip in March to see the newest reincarnation of Punchdrunk's Macbeth/Hitchcock nightmare mashup, I sort of figured I was done with it. At that point, I'd seen it four times - three times in Brookline, MA, and once in NYC. I'm not foolish enough to think I'd seen everything - the way that show is put together, you could go every night for a month, and still find something new. But I'd seen a lot, had an amazing experience every time, and even gotten some spectacular solo interactions with the cast - an amazing bonus reserved for just a handful of lucky people every show. I could continue to go back and see more, explore more, but I didn't need to anymore. Plus, especially with the move to New York, it's an expensive habit to form - $80 a ticket minimum, and all the expenses that go with a weekend trip to Manhattan. I love the show, but it seemed like the end.

Then it kept getting extended. Never too far - a couple weeks further every time. I kept an eye on it, because I do love it so much, and I'm thrilled to see it doing well enough to warrant an extended run. When available tickets hit mid-to-late October, my wife and I started discussing how insane Sleep No More would be around Halloween. The show is such a creepy, surreal trip anyway, we could only imagine how over the top they would go if given the excuse.

Then the show got extended past Halloween and into November. Only odd thing was that tickets were blocked off from Wednesday 10/26 to Halloween night this coming Monday. Clearly they had something special planned, and wouldn't it be cool if we could go? But the message on the website was that those tickets were being held for VIP guests on an invitation-only basis, so we figured we were out of luck.

When the email came with our invite and promo code that would allow us to purchase tickets for that week, we barely thought about it. Our wedding anniversary had just passed, so we had a bit of extra money, and before we really discussed it too much, the tickets were bought for Thursday the 27th. We had both already gotten that week off from work - completely unrelated to Sleep No More's schedule; that was just the last week it seemed that we'd be able to get together. Everything sort of fell into place.

Two days later, I still love that show. I will admit to being... disappointed is the wrong word. The show is still incredible. I had an incredible time. I still saw things I've never seen before. The New York show seems to have grown and expanded in the last six months, and really developed past what it was in its early weeks and months. My only regret is that there were so many people.

I feel bad even saying it, because a huge part of me wants as many people to experience this as they possibly can, and also wants Punchdrunk to become a household name - if you look at some of the events they've been doing in Europe, they're moving in the direction of becoming the next Cirque du Soleil, the go-to group for truly fantastic, off-the-wall experiences. But all four previous trips into Sleep No More, across two cities, I always found moments of quiet. Moments where I was alone in the set, able to carefully examine a document, or watch the minutiae of a character's business. There were times when I would be the only person to witness a small scene between characters, because the rest of the audience were having their own adventure elsewhere. There's something truly special about that. And that was much harder this time around. It seemed like there was always a crowd to fight through to see a pivotal scene, or too many people to dodge when the character you're following suddenly breaks into a sprint. It just seemed crowded. Oftentimes, when I came across anything involving a major character, there would already be such a crowd gathered that I would just head off in another direction - there's no way I could get close enough to see anything anyway. I don't know if this was the standard amount of people that attend every night, or if they boosted their capacity for the Halloween week, but it certainly seemed like more people in the space than there had been before. Maybe in March, we just got in before New York figured out what a gem they had in their city.

Again, there's almost shame attached to this. I feel like an idiot who complains when their favorite indie band hits it big - like it's no longer fun when everyone else likes them. I still want everyone who is even remotely interested in this sort of thing to go check out the show, because it's absolutely worth it. My only hedge now is that I might recommend checking them out on a weekday night. It's a bit cheaper (not that the show isn't worth the more expensive weekend tickets), and there may be less of a crowd with you.

I will say this about their Halloween extravaganza - Sleep No More and Punchdrunk can throw one hell of a party. If you happen to have tickets to any of the Halloween week shows (only three left at the time of this post), you're in for a treat, though a pricey one if you're looking for some liquid motivation. The party in the ballroom was a lot of fun, though not quite my scene. I do wish they had made it clear that other parts of the set would be open for less raucous celebration - my group might have stayed a bit longer had that been the case. But if you're looking for an amazing night out in one of the cooler places you'll ever get to party, it's worth it.

Once again, I feel like I'm good with Sleep No More. I've been scouring the internet for months for more news on "Punchdrunk Travel," their next project that was rumored to kick off in September, but I've never found more news. I'm ready for the next thing, and I think I'm cool with not seeing Sleep No More again. Yesterday, I saw a note on Twitter that they had extended to December 30th, with the 31st listed, but not available. I bet they'll throw one hell of a New Year's Eve party.

And if I were to get an invite, I might just change my mind...

A new project...

Inspired in part by my previous post:

The Near Fall Journal

What Is The Near Fall Journal?

The four of us are long time professional wrestling fans who want to write about professional wrestling giving it the respect it deserves. The internet is flooded with sites dedicated to professional wrestling news and rumors. Here at The Near Fall Journal, we aim to dig deeper and analyze the story lines and performances of today while also re-examining its illustrious past.

We hope you enjoy.

Should be fun!

I Enjoy Pro Wrestling... and So Does My Wife. SWERVE!

June 7, 2010 was the day my wife began a slow-but-inevitable transformation into a (reluctant) pro wrestling fan.

If I remembered that date off the top of my head, I’d be a much better fan than I am. No, this is why we have Wikipedia. The date is nothing important, but the angle kicked off on WWE’s Monday Night Raw was what caught her eye and caused her to pay a little more attention, give a little more credence to the shows at which she usually just rolled her eyes. My wife claims that she has to fall asleep on the couch for a couple hours before going to bed, or else she won’t be able to get to sleep. So our nightly ritual typically consist of watching something we both care about until she’s about to crash, and then I put on something that I like that she considers background noise – and wrestling very often fit that bill. But that night in June, she was apparently more awake than usual…

I’ve been a pro wrestling fan off and on for most of my life, with a particular upswing in the last couple years – having a DVR made a huge difference in that respect. The WWE’s product has had its ups and downs over the last couple of years, but the past year has seen a couple angles started that showed real promise of opening the concept up to newer audiences – not all superheroes and goofy real-life cartoons. What CM Punk is doing right now on and off WWE TV is a great example – a little more realism, making the whole saga a little more relatable.

On June 7, 2010, Raw seemed to be business as usual – they were in the middle of the dreadful guest host gimmick, and this particular night was “Viewer’s Choice” night, making everything that much worse. (Side note: I’m all for giving fans what they want, but shows like this prove that some people just don’t know what’s good for them). Anytime Morgan was awake while watching wrestling, she typically gave a running commentary of just how goofy it was – not that I can blame her for it. For the first hour and fifty minutes of Raw, it was clear this was not going to be the night to change Morgan’s mind about wrestling.

The John Cena/CM Punk main event had her attention a bit more – Punk’s good for that, even at the tail end of the dying Straight Edge Society gimmick. But just as Raw went into their 11 PM overrun, something happened that even made her sit up and take notice. The debut of Nexus, led by Wade Barrett, was unique and special because it wasn’t something that WWE often allowed people to see on TV. Individual characters were always fair game, including the onscreen version of Vince of McMahon, but taking shots at the company or the product wasn’t something you’d normally see. So when the former NXT participants came down to the ring, decimated the company’s poster boy in John Cena, and then proceeded to tear the ring and ringside area apart… that was new.

One of the most telling points for me was when they tore off the mat to reveal the plywood that makes up the ring surface – I don’t think that’s something that most people realize. With the acceptance that pro wrestling is fake/fixed/planned/etc., I think a lot of people expect that the ring is a giant mattress of some kind to make sure the performers don’t get hurt. So seeing plywood laid on a steel frame was probably an eye opener to some people – my wife included – and if nothing else earned the performers a bit more respect.

The biggest impact from the segment was that it was produced in a very unique way: there was no commentary, and no one on the microphone. The cameras were picking up everything that was going on, but the performers were not playing to the mounted camera side of the ring like they will in a match – most shots had something going on in the background. They involved people who wouldn’t normally get that into the action – ring announcer Justin Roberts, commentators, cameramen and producers, referees. And the icing on the cake – the crowd shots. Starting with the attack on Cena, but escalating as Nexus tore down the set, you could tell that people in the crowd weren’t really sure what was going on, but they knew this was not a normal Raw event they were at.

The thing about most pro wrestling fans that I’ve met, myself included, is that we know it’s fixed. And the WWE has stopped trying to sell it as a legitimate sport, branding themselves “sports entertainment.” But that doesn’t mean it can’t be enjoyed – did knowing that Lost was fiction and not a documentary get in the way of people liking the show? The typical question I’ve heard is that people would rather watch MMA or boxing because “at least that’s real.” And if that’s what you’re into, enjoy it. I personally don’t really like people getting the crap beaten out of them when it’s “real.” I also enjoy the storytelling aspect of wrestling. Granted, there have been a lot – A LOT – of crap stories over the years, but every so often they find one that hits home, reenergizes the fan base, and maybe even grabs them some new fans.

Common consensus is that WWE dropped the ball with the Nexus storyline – it jumped the shark right around the time that Cena was “fired,” because that stretches the line of plausibility just a little too much. Now just over a year since their debut, Nexus has basically disbanded, and included only one of the original members of the group at the time of its demise. WWE missed a huge opportunity to launch Wade Barrett, the original mouthpiece of the group, into superstardom. Even the addition of the CM Punk could only stretch out the inevitable demise, and the group’s final death knell came from Punk picking up his much more exciting current storyline. But the promise of what WWE put together on that night made it the most exciting storyline they’d had in years. It came out of nowhere, immediately thrust eight brand new talents into the spotlight (something WWE has always been extremely hesitant to do with new talent), and took a direction that no fans could have expected. That first night – and honestly, most of the first couple months – had fantastic execution that just fell apart by the end.

After the Nexus angle petered out, my wife continued a quiet transformation. She was awake a bit longer into Raw. She’d make comments about performers she liked watching – Randy Orton, Kofi Kingston, CM Punk. I could show her clips of ridiculous spots from matches (the Randy Orton-Evan Bourne RKO clip was a personal favorite), and she appreciated them in a way I don’t think she had considered before. And then came the most recent turning point, one month ago when CM Punk sat down on the entrance ramp in Las Vegas and delivered one of the best promos anyone has ever given. While it’s completely awesome in its own right, it shared a bit with the Nexus angle in that it was completely unexpected, unlike anything the company had done recently, and carried a much more realistic tone than most other storylines. For the first time, she wanted to see what happened next. She wanted to watch Raw the next week. We even threw around the idea of ordering the Money In The Bank pay per view - but really, WWE? $55? Really?

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

Time will tell how the current Punk angle plays out, or if what comes next will hold her interest, but I think it speaks well of the current state of the WWE product that they were able to hook a new fan who prior to the new direction had no real interest whatsoever. I’m sure that she’s not the only one, either.

On a recent episode of ESPN’s BS Report with Bill Simmons, CM Punk talked about the current state of pro wrestling: “A lot of people are embarrassed about pro wrestling. I don’t think anybody needs to be. My goal is to make this shit cool again.” I admit to being one of those people, but seriously, what’s the point? Anyone who is going to nitpick your interests and hobbies surely has one of their own equally deserving. So well done, CM Punk. I don’t know if wrestling can once again be classified as “cool” yet, but you once again have my outward support.

Returning to an Incredible Nightmare

In the course of one month in 2009, I posted twice about the same piece of theater, ART & Punchdrunk's Sleep No More. I actually had a third piece almost ready to go, but after re-reading it, I realized I didn't really have anything new to say, outside of "people who come here to disrupt the performance suck," and never posted it. If you've had any real world contact with me in the past year and change, there's a good chance we've spoken about it. I admit, I was somewhat obsessed. Those two posts can tell you the long story of why, but the short version is that the show got me more involved and excited about a theatrical performance than anything else I'd ever seen or experienced. It was just. That. Good. And like many people, I was disappointed to think that I might never get to experience Sleep No More again - it was a limited run, good things come and go. I get that. It's also part of what makes it so special.

Well, to hell with that. I'm doing it again: Sleep No More NYC

Running for just 6 weeks (March 7th - April 16th) in NYC's Chelsea neighborhood, this time Punchdrunk is taking over... I'm not really sure exactly. It looks like it's a fairly general retail/warehouse space. From what I can tell, part of the building has been used to host a seasonal haunted house called Blood Manor New York for the last couple years; another piece of it used to be an upscale nightclub; still another was recently a Sprint retail location. I have no way of knowing how much of the building they'll be using until the show opens, but after my experience in Brookline, I have complete faith in Punchdrunk to make the absolute most of whatever space they have.

The website is branded for "The McKittrick Hotel," which to save people the Google search (cause I already did it!) is the name of a hotel in Hitchcock's Vertigo, where one of the main characters "vanishes" and loses the detective tailing her. From what I can tell (having never seen Vertigo... gonna take care of that shortly), it's not a major scene in the film, but Punchdrunk is using that element of disappearance to set the stage for their incredibly unique telling of Macbeth. Here's hoping they're able to make it as atmospheric and incredible as the transformed Lincoln School in Brookline. That's actually one of the reasons I'm so excited - the territory is familiar, but the setting isn't. With the design and atmosphere being such an integral part of the show, I can't wait to see what new spin Punchdrunk can put on the show I loved so much.

I've already got my tickets booked - for a 11 PM entry, no less - MIDNIGHT MACBETH NIGHTMARE! - and will be there with full anticipation with my wife and a pair of cousins. If you are in or can get to the NYC area anytime during the run, I highly recommend it. It's one of the most remarkable experiences I've ever had, and while it's certainly not for everyone, if you let yourself buy into their premise and presentation, it will push you, challenge you and thrill you in a way not many other forms of entertainment can. Highly, HIGHLY recommended.

Johnny Baseball

American Repertory Theatre, Cambridge, MA

6/2/10

I didn’t hate it until really close to the end. So I guess that’s saying something.

Let’s get one thing really, really clear first. I am the polar opposite of the target audience for this show. I don’t like musicals. Big strike one there. I’m also a pretty serious Red Sox fan – I’d wager that I know the history better than the average fan, which puts ART in jeopardy of pissing me off if they get too cute with the artistic license. So I had a sneaking suspicion I was going to be cranky when the final curtain fell on this one.

So the fact that the first four-fifths of this was mostly inoffensive to me is fairly high praise, considering the circumstances, even if I ended up walking out with an awful taste in my mouth thanks to the last 20 or 25 minutes.

Another caveat – before I go on the inevitable rant about what I hated so thoroughly near the end, I want to stress that I think the vast majority of people who would even consider going to this would probably get a kick out of it. The music is more fun than not, all of the performances were strong (more on that later), the production elements are really nicely designed and put together really well. 100% of my issues with the show fall in the lap of the writers, and not any of the other countless artists and staff involved in the production. I firmly believe that there are a lot of people who will connect with this show in a different way than I did, not be bothered at all by it, and have a wonderful time. In fact, that’s definitely the impression I got from some other guests at the post-show opening night gala.

But where theatre is an entirely subjective experience, I can’t speak for those who had a pleasant time from open to close. I can only speak for me, and talk about my experience. And my experience as a historically-informed Red Sox fan found a script that slowly deteriorated over the course of two hours until finally, in two connected moments, it spat on the long, storied, damn-near-mythologized history of this team. A history that is revered by the team’s fans and some of its players, current and from years past. A history that has undoubtedly made a red “B” in blue trim one of the most recognizable entertainment symbols from the past century. All I could think about as I walked out of ART last night was that the writers of Johnny Baseball, one a member of Red Sox Nation himself, had no respect for the team, its fans, or the specific players who gave us the most exciting, rewarding sports moment of the last 90 years.

Johnny Baseball follows Johnny O’Brien (Colin Donnell), an orphaned rookie pitcher with a helluva fastball who works his way up to the Boston Red Sox during Babe Ruth’s (Burke Moses) final season with the team in 1919. Ruth takes the fellow orphan under his wing, and introduces him to Daisy Wyatt (Stephanie Umoh), a young African-American jazz singer just finding her way in Boston. Sparks fly, of course, and as Johnny’s career takes off and his romance with Daisy deepens, the two of them must confront the realities of race relations in the early 20^th century.

Their story is told through an old African-American man, who is sharing it with a young Red Sox fan. They also happen to be sitting in the Fenway Park bleachers during Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS against the Yankees. Eventually, the stories merge, and the audience sees a what-if scenario of the progression of the fabled Curse of the Bambino.

According to ART’s website, Johnny Baseball “traces the origin of the Curse to a collision of three orphaned souls… these three lives contain both the reason for the Curse and the secret to its end of the bat of Big Papi in 2004.” When you’re dealing with a mythos like the Curse of the Bambino, of course everyone is entitled to their opinion. But I have a very hard time swallowing that opinion when it relies on a very selective list of conceits that don’t really jibe with the legitimate history of the Red Sox. Without going into any details of the surprises and reveals throughout the play, the authors (Richard Dresser, Robert Reale & Willie Reale) sort of mangle some of the important aspects of the story. Their curse starts – and it has a very clear, active “start” – in 1948. But if you’re really going to play with this particular story, and you decide to bump the generally accepted start date of The Curse by nearly 30 years, you damn sure better give a good reason why the Red Sox, the greatest team in the first 15 years of the modern era (1903-1918), failed miserably for the next thirty years… and then got cursed. Why should I believe that 1948-2004 was a vindictive (if not undeserved) curse placed on the team, but 1919-1947 was just really bad management? To me, that just seems sloppy.

I’m also not at all pleased with the implication of how the curse was lifted. The writers drops two clear, contrived and cheesy instances of deus ex machina onto the end of the play – watching the otherwise-beautiful lighting and set flicker and flash as the hex was placed made me want to scream – and instead of being at all enlightening, or even all that interestingSox Nation finally got satisfaction after 86 years of heartbreak because one selfish bastard decided he’d punished people enough, and recanted his curse at the perfectly convenient moment.

The issue is that in the same two hours that the play is touting baseball’s place in American history, it’s also implying that the game itself has no actual impact or importance on its own – it’s merely a social mirror to what’s going on in the country as a whole, vulnerable to the whims of those involved in it. It’s a very contradictory when compared with the group sitting in the bleachers, watching this infamous game, and all of the stock they’re placing on it. In one song, they all plead with God for “One More Run,” because that’s clearly something important enough to them to make such a high request. In another, “Do or Die,” a couple’s entire relationship is dependent on the outcome of Boston’s season. Do these two contradictory messages really belong in the same show? If the point is to show the pointlessness of fans placing such importance on inconsequential games, then sure. But that’s not very generous to the fans you’re likely trying to lure into the theater to watch the show.

Of course those are overblown examples – of course they are, this is musical theatre. But you’ve got one hand setting up the sanctity and importance of baseball and this team for so many people over many generations, while at the same time the other hand is showing just how meaningless the entire sport is – the 2004 team, heroes to unexaggerated millions,  don’t even factor in. They were just in the right place at the right time.

Talking with my fiancée after the show, she was a little amused (but not at all surprised) by my fury, and came up with a pretty good reason why I was mad. “It’s blasphemy!” she said. And that’s partially right. I am pretty well wrapped up in this team, and the ups and downs of their seasons, and have been for the better part of 15 years (I know, I’m a rookie compared to some of the long-suffering fans. That’s still three-fifths of my lifetime, so cut me a little slack). So to have someone twist this mythology in this way certainly pisses me off on a personal level, but that’s not the bulk of it. Being angry about blasphemy is being angry because someone disagrees and has the gall to talk about it in front of you. Much more than that, I’m angry because in writing what was disguised as a love letter to the game, these guys ended up disrespecting it, disrespecting the Boston Red Sox, specifically the 2004 team, and every player who made that historic World Series title possible. And that’s infuriating to me.

Dismissing the accomplishments of that team as a happy coincidence completely undermines the game and the place that baseball or any other athletic competition holds in our society. Admittedly, that place might be a little higher than it ought to be at times (BEAT LA!), but this is a Trojan horse into the minds of the fans who revel in those sports and pastimes.

I don’t want to end this on that sour a note, so let me just say that until the writing took that very unfortunate turn, I was fairly amused for the first good chunk of the play. First off, the set is gorgeous, featuring a very versatile set of Fenway bleachers, set on casters and able to be rearranged into different configurations. It allows for a nice variety of levels and dimensions without getting repetitive, even though you spend a good amount of time looking at different ballparks. I’m also pretty sure ART rebuilt their entire deck and stage to accommodate the show, pulling out what would have been considered “orchestra” seating to create side sections, performing the show on a thrust that gives much more of a ballpark feel. Even the light grids above those sections are reminiscent of the field lights at Fenway. Nicely done. There’s also a fantastic moment when Ruth hits a home run during a game – a combination of lighting, blocking and performance that perfectly and hilariously imitates film from the time period. Pretty sure I laughed louder than anyone else in the room on that one.

The performances are quite good, as well, in particular from Johnny “Baseball” O’Brien himself. Colin Donnell finds nice moments throughout the play to highlight Johnny’s growth. He hits small-time pitcher well; his starstruck introduction to Babe Ruth is hilarious; he picks up an appropriate swagger as his stock rises, and then finds a wonderfully contrasting darkness and bitterness as an older Johnny lives out the rest of his life wondering what could have been. It’s a really nice progression that Donnell handles with ease.

I wish I could say the same about the romantic plotline, but I don’t think it’s a good thing when you view the female lead and love interest as an extraneous character. The story seemed stunted, and the actual courtship between Johnny and Daisy felt condensed into about half of the amount of time it needed to have to really carry any weight. You only see two or three meetings between the two of them, and none of them really hold the significance to generate the impact the relationship is supposed to have later in the play. I think this weakness also led to some of the less-inspired directing in the show –when given nothing significant to portray emotionally, the scenes fall flat and stretch too long, often ending up with Daisy staring off into space longingly while Johnny stares longingly at the back of her head. Elsewhere, Diane Paulus’s directing is sharp and fun, highlighted by a raucous scene in a Boston brothel where all ten or twelve characters onstage never run out of things to do. Despite the writing’s shortcomings, Stephanie Umoh is charming and sweet as Daisy, and her voice will blow the roof off that theater for the entire run of the show. The scenes featuring Daisy as a jazz singer, though inconsequential to the show as a whole, really do a great job featuring Umoh’s talent.

The show’s ensemble is equally strong, with standouts in Burke Moses, who spends most of his onstage time playing Babe Ruth, and Jeff Brooks, who plays a collection of older characters including early Sox catcher Wally Schang and controversial (yet legendary) Sox owner Tom Yawkey. An honorable mention also goes to Alan H. Green, whose short turn as a certain legendary player produces a lot of laughs and the best song of the show. The modern-day crowd scenes portray some unwelcome but not uncommon (and, admittedly, not entirely untrue) stereotypes about Boston fans, but they also produce some of the most enjoyable songs in the show. The opening number “Eighty-Six Years” is catchy, goofy fun, and also lays out the history for those who might not be intimately familiar with it.

I’ll say it again: there’s a lot to like here, and maybe I’m being petty by letting those two moments ruin the entire experience. But those two moments are crucial to the plot, and in my mind forces all of the show’s credibility to come crashing down. They ruined an otherwise enjoyable night at the theater for me, and one that obviously still has me fuming a day and a half later. If you don’t care as much about the history as I do – and there’s no reason you ought to – forget the entire middle section of this review and go enjoy a peppy, sweet musical with the Red Sox as a backdrop.

But you most certainly will not see me there again.