New theatre company Bad Example Productions opened its first show last night—Ray Bradbury’s Faherneheit 451 at the Alchemist Theatre. A modest crowd turned out for the second dystopian drama to open at the Alchemist this summer.
Stuffy Background Criticism
In 1951, author Ray Bradbury wrote a short story set in a world where books were routinely rounded-up and burned by government officials known as “firemen.” Books were burned for the good of a society that was permissive enough to allow them to be burned. The short story was turned into a short novel in 1953, which has gained acceptance as one of the greatest literary works of the 1950’s and one of the first science fiction novels to gain widespread critical academic acceptance.
The book has often been seen as a criticism of government censorship and the dangers of a totalitarian society, which is kind of missing the point. It’s clearly stated in the text in numerous ways that society as a whole has grown apart from books. The government is only doing the will of the will of the majority of society. Bradbury himself has gone on record as saying that the book was actually about how television destroys interest in reading literature . . . and interest in critical thought along with it.
In light of modern technology and the bewildering complexity of contemporary mass culture, it’s difficult not to see the source material as anything other than a quaint, old relic from the dawn of modern mass media. Bradbury was pretty progressive leveling TV’s effect on mass culture in the early 1950’s when it was first becoming established, but he wasn’t visionary enough to see its effect in the context of the rest of the mass media that would be established . . . a decade after Bradbury wrote Fahrenheit 451, Marshall McLuhann predicted the “global village,” of a globally-connected information society. Twenty-three years after Fahrenheit 451 was published, the first word processing computer program was developed. The influence of word processing on our understanding of the written word cannot be overestimated. More has been written since the invention of word processing than had been written over the course of the rest of human history combined. The information-rich world we’re floating around in demands a basic level of savvy that Bradbury didn’t see coming. His nightmare vision of a culture intellectually and emotionally crippled would’ve only been possible in a vacuum without internet and other forms of interactive media that permeate the modern world.
Fahrenheit 451 is also a love letter to narrative fiction itself. I’m watching characters passionately speaking through actors onstage about the books they love—classics quoted in the script. And as I’m watching this, I’ve got quite a few of those classics along with 30 other novels in a wallet-sized PDA in my left front pocket. A recent iPad commercial casually boasted being able to carry around more books than you could read in a lifetime. Book burning has always been a symbolic, theatrical event. Book burning in the modern world would be almost completely meaningless. When Fahrenheit 451 was published, a book was a very solid, very concrete thing . . . the type of thing that could be taken away from us. In the modern world, this would be very difficult to do. Classics that have fallen into public domain are available for free online. It’s very difficult to imagine a world where society would turn its back on books and critical thinking. In the modern information-based culture, one turns one’s back on books at one’s own risk.In an information-rich environment, those who cannot think critically become marginalized capital.
The world has changed a lot in the half-century since Bradbury wrote Fahrenheit 451. It’s a very interesting, very compelling story, but it really needs to be enjoyed in the context of the world Bradbury’s rendering. Certain universals about human understanding, passion and compassion keep Fahrenheit 451 relevant, but his more specific concern about what television and pre-packaged media are doing to society comes across a little silly in the context of the modern world.
The Play
Bad Example plays Fahrenheit 451 on a mostly blank stage. There are a few chairs and a table. The drama plays out entirely between actors, costuming and a few books. Jeremy Eineichner plays Guy Montag—a professional “firefighter” who burns books for the common good. A few key events shake Montag’s faith in what he’s doing. Eineichner puts together a pretty solid dramatic performance in the role. At the beginning of the play, he’s passionately extolling the virtues of fire. At the end he’s completely disenfranchised and passionate about the books he’s been burning all these years. It’s a big journey—Eineichner could’ve tried to reach for more intensity in his performance and ended-up playing it way over the top. Eineichner does a really good job of tempering the emotion to make it feel more natural.
Montag’s co-workers help to fill-in some of the details about the world the story rests in. We only get three others on-set: Black (Desiree Gibson,) Holden (Warren Anderson) and Beatty (Robert Golden,) but the very lived-in costuming (a very practical-looking fireman’s uniform) and the overall feel of the group scenes between them works quite well in establishing the work culture of the “firemen.”
Much of the rest of the world of the story is brought-in through Montag’s interactions with his wife Mildred (Joanna Thomas.) Thomas has something of a sullen restlessness in the role of Montag’s wife. She’s often seen watching television . . . Director David Kaye has elected to have actors facing the fourth wall every time they’re watching a TV screen or a monitor, which is remarkably simple and startlingly effective. When these characters are watching a glowing screen, they’re looking out in to the ether beyond the audience . . . it’s a nice aesthetic effect.
The big difficulty with the show seems to be the script, which is far too reliant on monologues to carry much of the action. Interaction between characters feels a bit stiff and perfunctory, which has only a small bit to do with anything actually happing onstage in this production. Bradbury has characters interacting in sympathetic monologues. It doesn’t feel as natural as it should, which would be fine if it felt more haunting or poetic.
One of the single best performances in the production is that of Grace Liebenstein in the role of Clarisse—a quirky intellectual girl who lives next door to the Montags. Liebenstein has a sparkling stage presence that makes her limited time onstage quite memorable. Liebenstein’s rapport with Eineichner onstage make for some of the more charming moments in the production. We feel Montag’s fondness for her in those fleeting moments she’s onstage. Liebenstien’s performance gives Clarice’s disappearance midway into the play quite a bit of impact.
Bad Example has put together a very solid production. The script may feel stiff in places, but director David Kaye delivers it with more than enough impact to make this is an entertaining drama that’s well worth the price of admission.
Bad Example’s production of Fahrenheit 451 runs through July 24th at the Alchemist Theatre. Bad Example’s next production will be a staging of Elise Thoron’s Prozac and the Platypus.
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It is a pity when we feel as an audience the need to reduce our standards to the point where-in "wholly uninspired" becomes "a very solid production." I for one had such a myriad of difficulties with Bad Example’s production that I have difficulty knowing exactly where to begin.
Let me then begin with its supposed overall theme. Mr. Bickerstaff makes a very valid argument in the first part of his review as to the waning social relevance of the letter of Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451.” A sound and well thought out argument which, due to David Kaye’s proclaimed love and scholarship for the material, an educated audience member would hope be addressed within the presentation of the piece. Logical conclusion to Mr. Bickerstaff’s points would be for an audience member to ask oneself, “In an era in which the written word so permeates our existence, why should we care about what happens in a seemingly impossible future dystopia in which fiction, poetry, and philosophy have been extinguished?” I feel that David Kaye utterly fails to answer this question from the start, despite the fact that even the most cursory investigation of the material presented brings intriguing answers.
The first answer is to challenge whether or not our own excessive amount of writing indeed bears any substance whatsoever; that a word without meaning is useless. This point is driven home time and again by several of Bradbury’s “stiff” monologues yet is quickly glossed over by actors and director alike as just another speech to get through (one of many ironies intrinsic to the very nature of producing “Farenhiet 451” outside of it’s original written medium which seems to be completely and wholly lost on the creative vision of this production).
The second answer is to further explore the actual relationships and inner turmoil and, shall I say, drama, which exists within and between the characters beyond the letter of the play. All of us have our own ideas about our place in society, whichever that may be, and an underlying drama to “Fahrenheit 451” occurs when those ideas are challenged or even proven false. I did not feel that this aspect was thoroughly represented by David Kaye’s vision. Why is it that he fails to explore both Montag’s and Beatty’s inner struggles with their chosen roles in this book burning society? In the course of the play we discover that neither wishes to be a fireman, nor belong to the society in which they exist. The two characters react to this inner conflict in opposite ways, one through liberating rebellion, the other self-destructive fatalism. Nowhere in Golden’s performance of Beatty and Eineichner’s performance of Montag is it driven home that they are, essentially, the same man, choosing different paths. Sure they say it, because Bradbury tells them to, but there is no emotional response to these revelations; thoroughly robbing the audience of any catharsis or empathy. This goes for all of the other like paired characters in the play, such as Mildred and Clarice.
With his production, I have no idea what David Kaye is trying to say beyond, “Books are good; people who don’t read are dumb.”
This glib take on an immensely complex and critically acclaimed work could be forgiven if the technical aspects of the production did not come off as equally slap-dash and shoddy. The lighting design was reproachable, with gaping areas of darkness in which most of the action unintentionally (as the presence of an awkward yellow spot upstage left [for dramatic effect?] during an intense part of one particular scene betrays) took place, making it impossible to see any nuance to any performance. The unfortunate decision to use a harsh dark blue wash to represent “night” was equally sophomoric and ineffective.
Another issue was with the production design itself. Kudos to the “lived in costumes,” but the rest of the play was staged on an undressed set with an hilariously scant amount of necessary props. A couch is used where a bed should be, and where a couch should be, Kaye feels it is adequate to use the rehearsal trick of, “let’s just throw three chairs together.” When presented with the challenge of showing us hundreds if not thousands of illicit literature, Kaye’s solution is to give us one waist high nightstand bookshelf, and an embarrassing glance offstage followed by an equally embarrassing, “Yup they’re all back there alright!” confirmation by one of the actor’s on stage. We are given the same insulting treatment when dealing with Beatty’s Hound. Three and half inch floppies are supposed to represent the epitome of future data storage capabilities, and a receiver-less phone is supposed to be accepted as an intercom when a call out to an imaginary omnipresent “Big Brother” speaker device could have easily sufficed and is bafflingly used elsewhere in the play when all the other characters speak to their appliances. I understand that funding is an incredible challenge to overcome when mounting a first production, but it didn’t seem that Bad Example even felt it necessary to try, and the lazy way in which they solved staging issues from a highly technical play was almost an affront to their audience’s expectations and intelligence:
Why use voice-over recording at all when you have at least four competent actors off-stage at any given moment? Why project barely visible light patterns to represent television screens (the fourth wall TV is an effective device) when moving pictures are just as available? Why not use a sterile white set to aid those projections and create a further sense mechanism and discomfort?
It is hard for me to believe that David Kaye bothered to ask himself any of these questions, and much less expected that his audience will ask the same questions of him. Overall I feel that with “Fahrenheit 451” Bad Example has set an atrocious one.
It's probable that if you ever actually read the script of this "highly technical" play, you would understand the vast majority of the items that you're complaining about.
i.e. the couch, which David Kaye uses a couch to represent, and which in the script is a couch (people generally do not keep beds in their living rooms), or the pre-recorded voices, which, in the script, are...pre-recorded voices. I'll give you three guesses as to what the script says the TV or the hound should look like--regardless, it shows you're criticizing something you haven't read or done your homework on. (Unlike Russ Bickerstaff, who clearly did his research before seeing this show and sharing his opinion.)
How about the fact that Bradbury himself calls for minimalism in the set design?
Or the fact that many of the things in the book, including character parallels, changed from the book to the script when Bradbury did his adaptation to the stage? The characters in the play are not the same people in the book, from Montag, who is inquisitive almost from the moment he steps on stage, to Beatty--significantly more fleshed out than in the book, and even Mildred, who is vapid and self-concerned in the book but in the play is mostly just plain irritated.
Don't get me wrong, I love the actual book. Read it probably twice a year. Prefer it to the play. I've had issues with some of the changes Bradbury made in dialogue and plot with the characters. But I've learned to appreciate the play for the different, evolved creature that it is, much like when one goes to see a Harry Potter movie and appreciates it for what it is--a story based on the original that gives you a visual, touches main plot points but makes you crave reading the original version that much more. (Don't even get me started on the movie version of F451.)
Anyway, Kaye could have actually figured out how to have a walking, tap-dancing eight-legged mechanical hound on stage and you still probably would have written a two page long diatribe on how much he didn't do in the script he did not write.
I say kudos to him and to the actors involved (Robert Golden, I'm looking at you with your two insanely lengthy lectures as Captain Beatty) for putting in the months of effort required to make a very difficult script of a very beloved book hold some extremely poignant moments.
By the way, what exactly is it that would make a sterile white set so much superior to a sterile black set? I'm curious.
Tom,
I'm going to start with an apology to you. Jay is of course someone connected to the show and when I was told they had commented, I was not pleased. While your comments certainly don't make me happy, it is your opinion and you are more then entitled to them. Feedback on the good and negative side of the spectrum are certainly far preferable to throwing work out there in the abyss.
I'm also sorry that you didn't enjoy the show. I will never claim to be a genius director, but at the same time, I am incredibly happy with this show and would not change what I have done. This is my first shot, my choice of play, my choice of venue, and quite frankly my own money on the line. I was willing to do this, because I care about this show. That you didn't like it, honestly does make me sad. However, other people have enjoyed it, and that means a great deal to me.
Anytime you put yourself out there, in a play or writing or music or politics or anything else, you of course leave yourself open to criticism. You need to have a thick skin, and I luckily do have that. It's fine, if unfortunate, that you didn't like it. Do I wish you had been a little more respectful, of course, but that was your choice. However, I will ask that while I accept your opinions on the show, please respect Russ' as well. I would never say a critics view matters more then any other audience members, but their opinion is no less valid. Russ bought a ticket, but he saw something there, he enjoyed it. If you disagree, that is fine, but please respect his opinion too. Feel free to comment any time on shows I do, if you happen to see any of them in the future.
David Kaye
Bad Example Productions
Re David's comment: Most gracious response I can imagine. Whether the show was good or bad or in between this is the best way the director could have responded. Very cool of you, man. I respect that.
Again I am at a loss as to where to begin. I would like to start with a half-hearted apology for hurting “Jay’s” feelings by saying the play was bad. I would like to continue by thanking “Jay” for reaffirming my initial point that the production was uninspired. “Jay” chooses to defend Kaye’s inability to look beyond the letter of the script by stating that Kaye was just following the script, or that the script doesn’t give him enough information. I have always understood that the director’s role is to make decisions as to how to perform the work when the playwright doesn’t have everything spelled out as to what to do at any given moment, thus, in a way interpreting it. This is what I mean when I refer to David Kaye’s vision, or lack thereof. Nothing “Jay” has just said counters this main argument.
I have also never heard of a such a thing as “sterile black” as black is a very hard color to keep clean and uniform throughout the run of a production, furthermore black does not evoke a sense of sterility more-so than it does fear or mystery. White may not have been the best choice: the set could have been grey or blue or red or green or dark green. The point is: doing anything with the set would have been better than the nothing David Kaye seemed to be quite pleased with. I believe that “Jay” mistakes “minimalist” with a naked stage. It is not minimalist to throw furniture up on what is left of another production’s set (I refer here to the Alchemist’s “Closet Land”) after strike without altering it any significant way, it is just lazy. I am glad that “Jay” was able to tell me that the scenes at Montag’s home did, in fact, take place in a living room, as I have never seen one in which the residents choose to place three folding chairs in front of their television and their couch back up into a corner.
I would like to remind “Jay” that we are not discussing the book “Fahrenheit 451,” nor are we discussing the film by the same name, nor any of J.K. Rowling’s books, nor the films based upon them either. We are discussing Bad Example’s production of “Fahrenheit 451” which is now playing at the Alchemist Theatre. Knowledge of these other projects should not be requisite for the enjoyment or understanding of what David Kaye thought was sufficient to call a production. I have been to many plays, and never before have I been required to read the script before I sat in my chair to enjoy it, or in this case, very much not enjoy it. Nor did the few never before seen original plays I have attended pass around copies of the script with the program so that I could follow along. As an audience member I am getting tired of bad directors blaming their own bad choices, in their own bad productions on the challenges of a supposedly bad or difficult script. As an artist, the director is supposed to rise up above these challenges and make the script into his or her own work; showing us his or her own opinions rather than just vomiting up copied genius onto a stage as effortlessly as possible and then taking credit for it. That is an intellectual fraud that nobody, not even friends and family should have to endure.
Oh! Would there only have been a tap-dancing eight-legged robot dog to have seen! That, would have been worth the price of admission and most likely have avoided an original post altogether, as it would have been at least one shining beacon of exception in David Kaye’s raging sea of laughable mediocrity. I would have left the theatre thinking, “Well, the play was garbage, but man, was that dog cool! They must have spent all their time on that.”
I would like to apologize if I come off mean-spirited, I do not intend to be. I want David Kaye to know that I know that he is capable of something much better than what he produced, if only because anyone is so capable. Strive for better David, and don’t bring us rubbish. I will encourage anyone to see the show, and if they agree with me to politely ask for their money back.
This exchange has been pleasantly diverting, but seeing as most likely they are only being read by those who disagree with me and will most likely not be swayed by my opinion, my posts are unfortunately redundant and controversial…can you burn a blog response?
@Tom: I haven't seen this production so I'm not qualified to weigh in on it and everything I'm saying here should in no way be interpreted as commentary on this show...
I have, however, seen enough other local productions drowning in what you'd probably also term a "raging sea of laughable mediocrity" that I felt compelled to thank you for sharing intelligent, well-defended commentary.
It can be so discouraging hearing poor quality work lauded with the same glowing terms as those shows which are actually deserving of praise. It makes it hard to determine if the *good* work is really good and if its message is actually getting across (and as intended, no less), and harder still to determine if there is actually any *bad* work out there at all.
There is.
It's too bad leaving contact info here leaves one open to harassment, because I would love to know how best to invite you to join my s.o. and me for a show some time. Your ticket's on us.
I have seen the production and, as a friend of a friend of the players, was not able to speak up.
But I agree with much of what Tom has written here. Unfortunately.
And also unfortunate is the increasingly clear fact that Russ seems to be constantly blindsided by whichever mildly cute female graces the stage, sometimes devoting paragraphs of "review" to that person even when they are in somewhat less significant roles than others.
I have seen a number of great shows at the Alchemist and around town at various other theaters that deserve recognition and discussion. This, however, is such a non-show that I feel foolish even chiming in on the topic. It is supposed to be fun to see friends on stage, right? This felt like I was babysitting someone's children who whipped up an endless play that I was forced to watch except that it wasn't performed by children and even children know the difference between pretending to put on a play and actually producing a play. As horrible as the 451 film is, perhaps this group should have considered playing it in the background and simply motioned along with the action in front of the screen?
I could have gone to dinner on my night off but I was obliged to see this.
If you're not obliged, go to dinner instead.
I saw this show last week, and I liked it way better than Tom! Yes, I have a friend in it, but I thought it was good anyway. No, maybe not THE BEST theater out there, but I was willing to hold aside some judgement because this was the director's first time directing. You have to start somewhere, right? I like the original book, so it was cool to see the characters on stage. I felt good for supporting a small, new company, and local theatre. Again, it's not the best show ever, but I am glad I saw it! I don't see why it either has to be THE BEST or THE WORST. Maybe you have to start towards tthe bottom to work your way towards the top.
The thing I like about independent theater is that most times the artists have something to say. Amidst the cacophony of the mass media, listening - the primary prerequisite of actual conversation - is a lost art. Mainstream McTheater is safe, predictable, and pointless. It's all empty calories and flavorless, but it looks good on the side of a bus. Independent theater is a gamble. The audience risks its hard-earned ducats and precious free time on unproven talent, makeshift venues, and the threat of boredom. It's not a pastime for the squeamish. But the payoff of good theater is an indelible impact on the viewer.
Bad Example's production of "Fahrenheit 451" doesn't even offer the possibility of an impact. A book burning parable is hardly relevant in the digital age. The play is preachy with loads of self-important sermonizing. The presentation is an open-faced homage to Ray Bradbury's venerable old sci-fi yarn, delivered with expressionless reverence as if this once powerful but no longer particularly meaningful story can carry the show. Instead of an artistic vision, the audience is subjected to the ritualized reenactment of inspired scripture by Saint Ray.
Next time I'd recommend giving rise to your own voice by making the story your own. I promise that I for one will be listening.
I saw this show last week, & would have possibly enjoyed it, but I missed about 50% of the dialogue because I couldn't hear it. And I was sitting in the 3rd row!! The only actor that I could understand was the older actor who doesn't appear until the 2nd act. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot...
I would personally like to thank everyone who took the time to come see, review, comment and critique Bad Example's production of Fahrenheit 451. I feel this is the type of constructive discussion that EVERYONE needs to be having about the arts, good, bad or indifferent. Without feedback, criticism and discussion the arts would cease to exist and none of us would have the luxury to excercise our right to discuss them. Every single one of you cared enough to take the time to join the discussion and that is what any truly dedicated artist strives for. Just like a performance and it's audience, one can never truly exist without the other. Let's keep it going, I know I will!
Warren J. Anderson
www.warrenjanderson.com