On Angels

Hey there, and Happy 4th of July if you're into celebrating.

I've always felt a little wary about celebrating the 4th because (as we all know) our country is a multifaceted entity, that generally only benefits the elite//white//cis//male in the way that it promises to benefit all. While our independence and ideas might be commended, with Trump in office with children separated from their parents, I don't really know how to celebrate the US. Yes, I love my country, but should we separate the good from the bad and celebrate while ignoring the systematic wrongs that occur where there should be liberty and justice for all? I don't know.  (Here and Here and Here are some articles discussing the topic.)

On Saturday, I woke up bright and early at 5AM to rush tickets for Angels In America with a group of friends. If you don't know, the show is subtitled A Gay Fantasia on National Themes, which is the only concise way I can describe it (thanks Tony Kushner).

It is a 2-part, 7-hour-long play that follows 5 characters living through the AIDS crisis in 1980s New York. It follows Prior Walter, who is diagnosed with AIDS, and abandoned by his boyfriend, Louis, after he gets sick. Prior becomes a prophet for the Angels that begin to speak to him and reveal to him the true nature of God. Louis, meanwhile, while struggling deeply with his guilt for leaving Prior and his understanding of the world, meets Joe Pitt, a closeted gay Morman. Joe is working in the same office as Louis and has been offered a high-ranking job in D.C. by his mentor, the despicable Roy Cohn. Joe hesitates to accept because of his Valium-addicted wife, Harper, who sees danger around every corner. Harper finds out that Joe is gay in one of her hallucinations, and their relationship becomes more and more estranged. Joe comes out to his mother who promptly sells her house in Salt Lake City and moves to New York. Roy is diagnosed with AIDS and refuses to admit this for fear of being perceived as gay, and the disbarment committee begins to try and remove him as a lawyer.

And that's just Part One. You know what, if you haven't read it, (which is unlikely seeing that you are reading this blog) just go read it.

You back? OK great.

I was lucky enough to steal into the Neil Simon Theater on two occasions to see this show. The first go around, I was sat in the orchestra, and all I could see were magic moments. I didn't remember how poignant this show was for my life until it was created for me, in real time, by a tireless group of actors and crew members.

At the beginning of the play, Kushner writes, "The moments of magic...are to be fully realized, as bits of wonderful theatrical illusion--which means it's ok if the wires show, and maybe it's good that they do, but the magic should at the same time be thoroughly amazing."

7 hours is a lot to ask of an audience, and a lot to ask of actors, but regardless of zoned in or out I was (you try to focus for 7 hours), each moment on every level of the show (lighting, set, direction, etc.) was given distinct and delicious meaning. Broadway shows=well fianced shows, and this one clearly used it's budget to uphold Kushner's vision. People appeared and disappeared, a fully functional angel was created, as was Antarctica, not to mention a beautifully melancholy rendition of Moon River. The first time I watched the show, I was enthralled by the magic and took in the play by allowing myself to sink into the world of the characters without much analyzation. My second time around, I had a seat in the Mezzanine, a more Brechtian perspective (literally) and the stamina to notice.


This time, I could see the trap doors open, and the rig that made the rain, the wires that flew the actors into the air, but it was still magic. As I watched, the world falling apart in Angels seemed to parallel the way the world is crumbling now. The delirious strength of Harper and Prior, each marching toward love for themselves and life reminded me of those fighting with everything they have against the America that is constantly against them. Louis's guilt over his lack of sickness is also the guilt of the elite. Watching Roy Cohn evade, lie, insult, and assault created a chilling parallel to Trump, especially considering that Cohn was a real person, and Trump's lawyer. Roy, demands us to ask what powerful and terrible people deserve, if anything, when they are dying or otherwise vulnerable. Also, JOE. Joe's equal fear and yearning for true freedom and vulnerability felt like an eerie mirror the second time I saw it.

The Angels tell Prior that AIDS is the physical manifestation of the prophecy and that in order to fix heaven, humans must stop moving, stop changing, stop doing. Eventually, Prior revokes the prophecy: he knows humans can't stop doing, and despite the tragedy, he chooses to live on earth, with hope. As the show ended, the actors stood on a basically bare stage with the Bethesda Fountain behind them, the lights that have been on the actors for seven hours dim, and the lights in the audience come up. Prior says, "The world only spins forward. We will be citizens. The time has come. Bye now. You are fabulous creatures, each and every one. And I bless you: More Life. The Great Work Begins." Just like that, the audience is thrust back into their world, where The Great Work of life continues.

Tony Kushner writes, "...you do not live in America, no such place exists. Your clay is the clay of some Litvak Shtetl...Because she carried the old world on her back, across the ocean, in a boat, and she put it down...and she worked that earth into your bones, and you pass it to your children, this ancient, ancient culture and home."

Walking out with giddy laughter and a tear streaked face, I thought that's it. Maybe I don't know how to celebrate the freedom of America, when so many people here are not truly free, but I can celebrate people, their ancient earth, and The Great Work, for life, liberty, and justice,  for all.