Among Boston’s theater circles this year, the A.R.T. has been mythologized with its own curse, or perhaps, Diane Paulus’ curse-breaking. As the story now goes, the once audience-alienating company has been rejuvenated by a new populist marketing message and a more limber interpretation of its charter mission. Their importation of a few proven hits as well as shows that try their hardest to straddle the gap between old hat headiness and the new hat’s “populism” lead to the two biggest hits of the season; Sleep No More, which I’m sure they would’ve kept around longer if they could’ve, and Boston’s new Shear Madness and Blue Man Group, The Donkey Show. Paradise Lost and Best of Both Worlds may have been bombs, but the rest of the season carried enough extra weight.
In my opinion, next season is looking up, but Robert Orchard is baaaaaack and from the looks of next season’s lineup at Arts Emerson, I predict some competition. And it’s Emerson who nabbed Elevator Repair Service for The Sun Also Rises.
Anyways, back to my metaphor. By breaking their curse and ushering in an inning of financial success (or at least subsistence), the A.R.T. has brought a new curse upon itself, displeasing the old-line and more than a few critics with shows like, well, Johnny Baseball. Winning in the theater isn’t nearly as simple as winning in baseball. Johnny Baseball, as one would expect and might’ve read, is wicked conventional, so much so that, if it didn’t require such a large cast, I wouldn’t be surprised if it became a seasonal theater fixture for tourists, locals, and local non-theater-types alike. I’d rather not get too deep into the plot here, because it’s not very interesting, and (unless you’ve kept away from the TV and movie theaters for the last 25 years) you’re probably able to fill in most of the blanks.
The ensemble of ardent fans (Marcus Stern)
Johnny Baseball re-writes the Curse of the Bambino legend, explaining the Red Sox’s 86 year losing streak as having nothing to do with the sale of Babe Ruth to the Yankees in 1919, but rather sources it to the failed interracial relationship of Johnny O’Brien (Colin Donnell), Babe Ruth’s (Burke Moses) fictional Sox teammate. O’Brien falls for Daisy Wyatt (Stephanie Umoh), a black jazz singer whom the Red Sox’s owner quickly shoos out of town. O’Brien loses his pitching arm and his girl, and while there is a reunion years later, it’s not all too redeeming, as the play’s time line requires all 86 years of the Curse to eradicate racism.
While the musical does a pretty good job of picking up on the spirituality and local flavor of the game and translating it into accessible and comic songs and thematics, that spirituality and sincerity is corrupted by a bland telling of historical race politics (Willie Mays even makes an appearance) that seems cribbed from some middle-school-reading-list historical fiction. It tries its hardest to preserve the popular divinity of the game, casting Babe Ruth as a coarse comic god (he clowns a home run, serves as matchmaker, frequents dens of inequity, and talks about “coaxing dames into his death bed”) and O’Brien (here, the embodiment of the game) as an innocent who just can’t seem to understand black & white. It’s only Daisy that’s capable of getting the implications of their relationship, and is more sympathetic towards, and protective of, him than he is of her–even if O’Brien can’t understand why.
It’s by no means a straight historical narrative. All this drama is further dramatized by being wrapped up with a cultural experience, that for most, is a little closer to home base–the 2003 World Series 2004 ALCS. We get fans praying to God for a win, offering to quit smoking, get a job, and become a nun. And we get Robby, an optimistic child-fan up in the bleachers that’s befriended by a wise old black guy who tells this story to him and us. Not a very original device, yes?
Johnny Baseball does succeed within its conventions. The band was on and the jokes are funny. The local humor is snappy and not cheap, and these out-of-town actors nailed the comedy and had wicked good Boston accents. The set was simple with its utilitarian sections of bleachers and screamed Boston with some well produced signage of our local landmarks; Fenway and South Station. Watching the show, I think I subconsciously dismissed the plot, opting to connect the dots myself (based on years of bad movies, TV, and books) rather than watch for predictable plot points. While Johnny Baseball may have not been an active experience for me, I can’t say it’s not tightly produced and smoothly directed by the maestra herself, Diane Paulus. And the A.R.T. might be onto something with a hot dog cart at intermission.
The American Repertory Theater‘s Johnny Baseball runs through June 27th @ the Loeb. Tickets $25-$75.
Colin Donnell (Johnny O'Brien), Burke Moses (Babe Ruth), Joe Cassidy, Jeff Brooks, Robert McClure, Stephanie Umoh (Daisy Wyatt) (Marcus Stern)
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
I do agree….the play was original and fun, but I felt like I was at the Huntington, not the A.R.T.
Long way from the provocative trilogy in the beginning of the season.
Well…I don’t know if my reaction would’ve been any different had I been at the Huntington. Actually, I’d probably be a little shocked to see it there. And I have to at least partially disagree. While I’m not a “Donkey Show” hater, I think “Best of Both Worlds” was an utter bomb.
The play’s framing device is the 2004 ALCS, not the 2003 World Series (which the Red Sox weren’t in)
Thanks for catching that Ron.