Perhaps the theatrical highlight of my summer came after I returned to New York and was passively watching the remaining days drift away before my return to Cambridge. I went to the TKTS booth in Times Square, looking for discount tickets to any one of the few shows that would not still be running or would lose their original stars before my next visit home. When I got to the front of the line and saw what was available, I happily snatched up a seat for tick, tick,… BOOM!, an off-Broadway musical written by the late Jonathan Larson, a Tony and Pulitzer-prize winner for RENT. I had read much about the show and was excited to see a piece that Larson had written for himself to perform as a one-man show; its original title was 30/90 and it told of his anxiety at turning 30 in 1990. This production, directed by Scott Schwartz ’98, expanded the cast to three, adding two additional characters to portray Larson’s best friend and his lover (as well as various other small parts).
The brunt of tick falls, though, on the actor playing Larson, and in the lead role, Raul Esparza was an absolute revelation; he is now my favorite musical theater performer. This was not the first time I saw Esparza on stage—I was impressed by his turn as Che in the 20th anniversary tour of Evita that played Boston two summers ago and was wowed by his Riff-Raff in Rocky Horror—but as Jonathan he displayed such vocal power and genuine vulnerability, that there was no way I could pull my eyes off of him. Esparza is a theatrical force to be reckoned with and I’m sure he will captivate in this fall’s Broadway premiere of Sondheim’s Assassins, where he will play the would-be FDR assassin Zangara.
But don’t convey my effusive praise of Esparza to indicate the show itself was unspectacular. On the contrary, it is a beautiful piece full of hard-driving anthems of hope, which also features a witty commentary on yuppie life, infectious pop songs and an homage to Sondheim. Without being told the composer, one can recognize the voice that would later create RENT. The show, however, is more than an early work to be admired merely for its promise. Yes, it reminds of all the great musicals that Larson will never get a chance to write; but it also presents the public with another great musical that he managed to leave behind.
It’s smarter to be lucky than it’s lucky to be smart
On my last weekend of the summer, I prepared for a final trip to the theater, wanting to squeeze in a trip to David Auburn’s Proof, a play which, like Larson’s RENT, also claimed both the Tony and the Pulitzer. The show’s original award-winning star, Mary-Louise Parker, was scheduled to leave, and I had little interest in seeing her replacement, Jennifer Jason Leigh, a talented film actress who seemed lost on stage in Sam Mendes’ gripping revival of Cabaret. And so, determined to see the show, I embarked into the city without a ticket, and with the knowledge that the show was sold out. I got there early enough to stand on the line for standing-room only tickets… well, apparently, not early enough, because they sold 15 tickets and I was eighteenth on the line.
After standing room dried up, those of us still hoping to get in became a cancellation line, and we waited for people to reject tickets that we would gladly snatch up. Eventually the two people in front of me got in the theater—and then I lucked out. I was able to buy the canceled ticket of a very nice, very attractive actress, who co-stars on network television’s most critically-lauded drama; I also, then, had the opportunity to sit next to her in great house seats for the show and exchange a few comments. I draw so much attention to this part of the afternoon, for it was the most enjoyable. Proof featured solid acting, and was led by Parker’s fascinating, if somewhat hard to rationalize, portrayal. The play itself, though, seemed to lack depth and compensated with melodrama which, at times, make it decently suspenseful and enjoyable, but at the end, left me feeling that I had witnessed something less than substantial.
And so, back I came to Cambridge with a summer’s worth of theater behind me. My travels brought me to many shows and many venues—but it wasn’t enough theater, nor could it ever be. Yet I return eager for this year’s offering on Harvard’s stages, at the ART, at the new Market Theater and in Boston itself. And I wait for the next time I go into the theater, take my seat, and sense the lights dim—I wait for my next favorite moment.