'Tis A Pity She's Unclear

Last year, my partner (referred to, from here on, as K) bought us a five-ticket subscription to theater at Brooklyn Academy of Music.  We liked it enough that he subscribed again this year -- which marks the first time I've ever been a "theater subscriber."  Yes, we are younger than the average subscriber by roughly two decades.  And yes, we have the "nosebleed" seats.

Anyway.

Last week, we went to see a british production of "'Tis A Pity She's a Whore."  Admittedly, we should have paid more attention to what we were getting into -- for as many plays as I've read, as many canonical plays as I've read (plenty, folks -- remember, these days, I'm an English teacher, capital E), I hadn't come across this one...and I remembered it (incorrectly) as "some French thing, I think?  I dunno, I guess we'll find out; I know it's old" (quote-unquote: this is what I told K as I was running out the door the morning of the show).  Oy.  So, okay, it WAS old.  But it wasn't French.  It was in what K calls "old-ey English."  Which is fine -- give us a few minutes to adjust and we can handle it, after all, we're Shakespeare pros at this point -- but when you combine difficult language with unfamiliar plot, BOY are you hoping the direction is clear.

The challenge?  Apparently, "'Tis a Pity" is a "bread and butter" play over on the other side of the pond (and maybe here, and we're just really ignorant).  Because the staging assumed everyone in the audience knew what was going on, assumed that the director/company's job was to "dust off and sex up an old chestnut".

Clearly, this was a sexy play to begin with.  But whoa, mama, we had (gratuitous) nudity within the first few minutes, an entirely red set with a huge bed center stage, crazy "club" style choreography to lead us into the show...they were throwing every "contemporary" choice they could find at this play set hundreds of years ago.

In many scenes, the actors never left the stage, even when they weren't in the scene.  In some scenes, only the actors in the scene were on stage; end result: hard as hell to tell who was "actually" in on particular pieces of information.  There was almost nothing done to distinguish locations...which works on an empty stage, but is tough when it feels as though EVERY scene is happening in a bedroom.  

In short, at every turn, the production went for "cool" over "clear."  If you were very familiar with the play, I'm sure it was an interesting staging -- but for anyone new to the play, as we were, it was a question of holding on for dear life through complicated plot turns, complex language, and muddy staging.  It was, in short, more frustrating than fun.

So while part of me wants to just nod sagely along and say "Oh, yes, "'Tis A Pity," we saw it, interesting staging choices, don't you think?" (and pretend I've read it enough to talk about it), my going into a famous, classic play ignorant actually provided a couple of key reminders:

1) It sucks to be "talked down to" as an audience member -- but it sucks even more to feel like you've been "locked out" of the show -- to feel like the people putting it together don't give a shit about reaching you.

2) Flourishes are fine, but if your intention is to tell a story (yes, I know, there's plenty of theater now that isn't aiming to tell a story, but I gotta say, I'm a "story" girl), make sure you're using your artistry IN SERVICE of your intentions, rather than to FIGHT your intentions.

3) Suit your production to your space.  I kept thinking "wow, I bet this is a really powerful production -- in a space half this size."

Reader, I woulda stayed 'til the end, but K got so fed up, we left.