The Cavalier daily :: Friday, March 20, 1970 :: University of Virginia Library

NEW YORK There are many
people who criticize the Broadway
theatre, its conventions, its commercialism,
its resistance to change,
its reluctance to experiment. Well,
let's set the story straight. There is
nothing wrong with Broadway
itself; the problem lies in its
audience.

In supporting this argument. I
would first like to discuss Richard
Seff's new comedy, "Paris Is Ours!"
which proudly declares itself an
"audience play." Its strongest
appeal is to Broadway's dear,
lovable, (is my sarcasm seeping
through?) matinee matrons, which
readily explains why it has just
switched its performance schedule
to include an unprecedented four
matinees a week. But it has also
proven itself to be fairly capable of
attracting the overall Broadway
market as well, which is predominantly
Jewish and middle-aged.

Planning A Trip

The play is about a Jewish
couple, probably in their sixties,
planning a trip to Europe, That's it.
That's all there is to the play. She is
a stereotyped Jewish mother -
extremely kind, solicitous, protective,
a bit scatter-brained - and
he is a stereotyped Jewish father
grumbling, complaining, but, underneath
the hard shell, loving. You've
seen them several times before. It
should also be noted that they have
a son and female travel agent, both
in their twenties.

By this time, you should have
guessed everything which happens
in "Paris Is Out!" We immediately
know the father will become
temperamental and call off the trip,
then the mother will act stubborn
and call off the trip, then they'll
leave on schedule. And, of course,
there has to be some half-baked
romance between the son and the
travel agent:

Rely On Personalities

This would be completely
unbearable if the two leads were
not Molly Picon and Sam Levene,
who do their professional best to
give life to the tired material. Once
in a while. Mr. Seff helps them out
with a funny line, but, for the most
part. Miss Picon and Mr. Levene
have to rely solely on their likeable
personalities. As a result, none of it
is really boring, but it is totally
mediocre.

Unsurprisingly, my critical
observations were not shared by the
majority of the audience members
at the matinee I saw. Most of the
audience was thoroughly pleased
with "Paris Is Out!" and had a
delightful time. The question we
now must ask is "why?"

There are many possible answers,
but most important is the fact
that they can relate to it. They
recognize the lives of the characters
as being similar to their own. They
can laugh at the ethnic humor
because it poses no threat to them.
They are, in essence, comforted
when the theatre (supposedly as a
mirror of society) reflects their
personal view of that society in
which they live. In short, it's safe.

The day after I saw "Paris Is
Out!" I attended a preview of the
Repertory Theater of Lincoln
Center's third production of the
season, a new play by Sam Shepard
entitled "Operation Sidewinder."
Very little about the play was
known as it hasn't been reviewed at
that time, and the audience was
very much like the one at "Paris Is
Out!" only perhaps a bit more
refined.

"Operation Sidewinder" is an
anti-Establishment drama loaded
with four-letter words and weird
goings-on. One of its early scenes
shows a woman lying on desert
soil achieving orgasm with a computer
disguised as a snake wrapped
around her. As you can probably
tell already, it contains much
symbolism and is hardly conventional
in is assaults on the Air
Force, the C.A., computerization,
and other facets of the American
way of life.

Sense Of Urgency

I should make it known now
that this is far from being a well
written play. The characters are
one-dimensional and of no real
interest to us. The plot is ridiculous
and the dialogue is at times
sophomoric. But, for all its faults.
"Operation Sidewinder" is alive,
which is more than I can say for
"Paris Is Out!" It has a sense of
urgency attached o it which
heightens its topicality.

There is a five-man combo
situated in front of the stage, which
bridges the play's many episodes
with loud rock music. There is a
seemingly authentic Hopi Indian
snake dance ritual late in the
second act. There are flashing lights
and simulated explosions. In short,
we never know what's going to
happen next, and, since we are
interested in what the author has to
say, our attention is held. As a play,
it's quite weak, but as a theatrical
experience it is often somewhat
electrifying.

Half-Shocked Matron

During its intermission, I overheard
one half-shocked matinee
matron say to another, disapprovingly.
"I wouldn't have thought
we'd have gotten there." She was,
of course, referring to the play. It
was not the strong language which
unsettled her, but rather the anti-Establishment
nature of the drama.

The author's depiction, in the
opening scenes, of the typical
American tourist and two cold-blooded
murders is disturbingly
true-to-life, thereby giving the
audience cause for realistic fear. It
is later that the extremely radical
and questionable views surface.
Consequently, the conventional
audience's fright turns partially into
anger. Even I consider many of Mr.
Shepard's social and political
theories to be decidedly warped.
But whoever said you have to agree
with a playwright's views?

Establish Opinions

Here, however, is where Broadway
audiences establish their generally
negative opinions of this play
and others like it. It scares them.
They see in this reflection of a
minority viewpoint a threat to their
concept of society. Therefore, they
reject the theatrical experience.
With only a few exceptions (which
usually occur when the power of
the playwright's rhetoric is greater
than the power of the distasteful
subject matter), Broadway audiences
will accept a different concept
of society from their own only
if that society is an improvement
over their own.

But is anger not as valid a
theatrical emotion as laughter and
tears? According to Broadway
audiences, it isn't (I should mention
that transparent shows such as
"Hair" do not really frighten or
anger them, only bore them, which
is understandable and justifiable).

Insecure Audience

What does this all mean? Simply
that Broadway producers cannot
judge scripts solely by their caliber
and potential. They must cater to
the psychological needs of an
insecure audience which knows
comparatively little about theatre.

This season alone, Broadway
audiences have let two dramas,
which, despite their flaws, were
socially significant ("A Patriot for
Me" and "Indians") die while giving
their support to trivia like "Paris Is
Out!" In recent seasons they have
killed one good, critically acclaimed
drama after another: "Does a Tiger
Wear a Necktie?," "After the
Rain," "Staircase," etc., etc., etc.

Want To Experiment

Whether the matinee matrons
know it or not, we are there.
Playwrights want to experiment (as
Arthur Kopit did in "Indians").
They want to comment on society
as they see it. They want attention
and they want a little freedom.

But since Broadway is really the
only place that can offer playwrights
any discernible degree of
financial success, they are being
grossly restricted. They must either
conform to audience demands,
accept being poor, or move into
another medium, namely films. It's
all very unfortunate.

And the sad part is that there's
nothing we can do to change it.