In which my knowledge of history lets me down

Despite being primarily interested in the period surrounded America's Revolutionary War, I found myself taking a bunch of classes in college about European history. I found a professor I really liked, so wound up signing up for classes that I didn't think I'd have any interest in. And thus I found myself taking Modern Russia, which just captivated me. I was fascinated, to the point that I wound up spending 2 weeks in Russia last year.

This, however, was a bit of a hindrance when I saw Brother Russia at Signature last week. It's the world premiere of the musical by John Dempsey and Dana Rowe that tells the story of a troupe of actors in the wilds of present-day Russia. They, then, tell the "story" of Grigori Rasputin--who may or may not be the head of the troupe, a man going by the name Brother Russia.

The focus of the play-within-a-play is the rise of Rasputin, portrayed by Doug Kreeger in a far sexier way than I ever thought about Rasputin. (God bless director Eric Schaeffer for getting Kreeger out of a monk's robe and into some jeans and a sexy, low-cut black shirt.) Kreeger does a fantastic job--his voice is amazing and his portrayal of Grigori's desperation to advance in the world and to be loved was captivating. He spends a lot of time on stage, and even when not the focus of action, my eyes were frequently drawn to him.

Grigori winds up in the court of Tsar Nicholas II and Tsarina Alexandra to care for their son Alexei, who suffers from hemophilia. And there he falls in love with their daughter, Grand Duchess Anastasia, played by Natascia Diaz, who manages to be a picture of vulnerability whether singing the wistful "Siberia" or belting out more rock-influenced numbers.

Throughout the show are breaks in the story, generally as Brother Russia pops in to comment on the story or redirect the actors. The ultimate message of the modern-day players--and thus, I suppose, of the show itself--is something about how art ensures that nobody dies, our stories go on, etc., etc. And we largely get that in the piece at the end of the show, after the play-within-in-a-play has wrapped up, mostly from a speech of Brother Russia, but also from some exposition from Diaz's modern character, Sofya.

The play, you see, isn't about the actual story of Rasputin; it's about how Brother Russia chooses to remember the story. Which, thank God, is acknowledged--again, near the end of the show. The player Viktor (Russell Sunday, who also did a fine job as Nicholas II) gets fed up and details the history the show got wrong. I could've cheered. I spent a lot of the show enjoying it in one part of my brain (particularly "This Is What They Call the Good Life," led by Stephen Gregory Smith as Prince Felix Yusopov, who winds up assassinating Rasputin, and "Vodka," the great number at the top of Act Two, led by Tracy Lynn Olivera), while another part of my brain was shouting, "BUT IT'S WRONG!" I'm sorry. I can't ignore the fact that Anastasia was a child when she first met Rasputin. A child very much loved by her parents.

(I could happily ignore, though, the whole Sexy!Rasputin detail. I'm shallow that way.)

I attended a talkback after the performance and was interested to hear about the development of a musical. I asked the actors how much they researched their roles, as they weren't, you know, historically accurate. I wasn't surprised to hear that Amy McWilliams, who portrayed Alexandra, did a lot of research; the performance matched how I imagine the tsarina. (For the most part. I don't require total accuracy.) Kreeger said that his research focused on how modern-day Russians view Rasputin, which also makes sense. Smith claimed 100% accuracy for his cross-dressing Yusopov. Diaz, whose character strays the farthest from the historical figure, acknowledged that, essentially; the play isn't about the historical story, but about how stories remain with us.

I'm still not sure how I feel about the show. The performances were great, and the songs were incredibly enjoyable. I don't know about the show itself; I'm not sure whether I wish they focused on the theater troupe and used them acting the Rasputin story to highlight their relationships. I don't know whether I want just an odd take on the Rasputin story. (Though really, the actual historical story is AWESOME; why change it?)

I think I prefer my historical musical theater more along the lines of 1776--one that sticks pretty closely to how history actually happened. Or, if it's far off, to be about a topic about which I know very little.

Down once more

Phantom of the Opera has snuck back into my consciousness lately. A month or two ago I caught a 2-hour "behind the scenes" look at Phantom, with interviews with all of the major players. And then on Sunday, I stumbled across the 25th anniversary concert being broadcast on PBS.

I loved Phantom. Totally obsessed with it. And it helped me! I learned words like "queue" and "ingenue" (much like how Evita taught me "bourgeoisie"). Of course, I was convinced for a while that a queue was a letter. The conversation is something like:

Andre: Damnable! Will they all walk out? This is damnable!
Firmin: Andre, please don't shout. It's publicity, and the take is vast. Free publicity--
Andre: But we have no cast!
Firmin: But Andre have you seen the queue? Oh, it seems you got one, too.

See, what happens between those two sentences in the last bit is that Firmin has picked up notes (thus the name of the song, "Notes") and noticed that one is for Andre. However, just listening to the song and not seeing the show itself for another 6 years, you don't know that. And because you're 10, you don't know that a queue isn't a letter.

I spent many, many hours in the basement of our house in Connecticut acting Phantom out. I've decided that my parents probably weren't too terribly concerned about the amount of time I spent in our basement; I was making decent grades and had a fairly active social life, so it's wasn't too worrisome. But still, I was enough of a dork to actually copy out the notes from the Phantom. Props!

So I've been listening to it again, and I do still really enjoy it. Raoul still sucks, but I don't think I ever really liked him. (And that was before the movie came out, with Raoul ditching Christine as soon as the Phantom shows up at the end of "Masquerade.") (Although the guy who plays him in the 25th anniversary concert has fantastic hair.) Good plot, good characters, good music...I'm still a fan.

Not that I wasn't tempted to go to a showing of the sequel tonight and mock it for all its worth. Talk about a bad idea.