From Last Row of the Orchestra at the Cort Theatre

From Last Row of the Orchestra at the Cort Theatre 

(The Night I Saw Paula Vogel’s Indecent) 

The Cort Theatre / 138 W. 48 St., NYC
Photo courtesy of The Cort Tehatre

The Producers, the Mel Brooks original movie, was on channel 13 about a week ago.  I tuned in just in time to see Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder watching Springtime for Hitler from behind the last row of the orchestra at the Cort Theatre.  I started thinking of all the shows I saw there.  The list grew rather lengthy.  It included Grace, Stick Fly, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, This is Our Youth, M. Butterfly (December 17, 2017 posting on this blog), Glenda Jackson in King Lear (April 23, 2019 posting on this blog), and Linda Lavin in The Lyons.  My memory of shows there goes all the way back to Cherry Jones and Frances Sternhagen in The Heiress.  The one night that stands out in my memory of shows I experienced in that hallowed hall is when I saw the production of Indecent (April 30, 2017 posting on this blog).  It was stunning.  I sat in the last row of the orchestra, house right, third seat from the side aisle.  That seat is not the most comfortable and does not offer the best view of the stage.  If you ever sat in the last row of the orchestra at the Cort Theatre, you probably know what I’m talking about.  I felt like I needed a booster seat, and the overhang from the mezzanine seems really low.  Since I usually get my tickets on TDF, I often sit in last row.  I am very grateful for that discount, which affords me to see as much theatre as I do (or did).  I remember occupying that very same seat at the Cort Theatre a few times.  Once the show starts and I engage, I usually surrender to the elements and connect with the performance.  However, when I saw Indecent, there was another challenge I faced from the last row. 

Photo courtesy of Indecent

The night I saw Indecent, the couple in front of me was on a date.  Not necessarily a first date, but definitely an early in their relationship date.  As soon as the show started, the man put his arm around the woman’s shoulder, sat close to her, and leaned his head against hers, blocking my already slumped view, claustrophobic from the mezzanine overhang.  I am not the type of person to tap a stranger in front of me on the shoulder and disturb their theatre experience.  I am, however, the type of person who writes about it on their theatre blog sometime in the future (meaning now).  I doubt they will be reading this, and if they do, won’t recognize themselves.  In my vengeful imagination, they broke up after the show.  I spent the evening shifting my focus from over their joined heads, to the right side of their joined head, then the left, and sometimes, when the stage positioning allowed, to the small open space under their lightly touching ears.  Remember, I was already slumped down.  The total effect of the powerful images by director Rebecca Taichman was enthralling.  Paula Vogel’s sweeping dialogue was encompassing.  The production left a very strong impression on me, no matter how hard I had to work to be emotionally engaging because of the challenges.  My blog post here on April 30, 2017 focused on that, and did not reflect my discomfort. 

My reading list of plays during this coronavirus lockdown seems to get longer every week.   Reading the works of one master playwright seems to open up inquiry into another.  My list originally included a number of plays written by Donald Margulies, including his version of The God of Vengeance.  I found his adaptation of Sholem Asch’s original play, which is the inspiration for the story of Indecent, to be powerful and intriguing.  Since Paula Vogel’s play does not re-tell the story of The God of Vengeance, I decided to read her play with my newfound understanding of the full story.  I thought it would be interesting to see if my reaction would be different, and I figured reading the play would also fill in any gaps I might have missed while dodging the couple’s heads in front of me. 

The Broadway production of Indecent at the Cort Theatre
Photo courtesy of Indecent

A close read of a play always gives me a strong appreciation for the intention of playwriting, and my read of Indecent was no exception.  Paula Vogel crafted a strong work that is a testament to what she states in the introduction to the published play.  “There are storied collaborations in the American Theater, writer/director collaborations that over years result in plays that remain vivid on the page.”  Indecent is definitely one of those plays.  Her scenes develop with a fierce focus on the desires of the characters.  The overarching action evolves out of these moments.  The characters are driven by their deep need to communicate the truths of their experiences.  This comes strongly into conflict with the norms of the society in which they long to assimilate.  In all her plays Paula Vogel takes her audience on a journey that exceeds any expectation.  Her collaboration with director Rebecca Taichman on Indecent supersedes the high bar she sets for herself and her audience in any of her previous work. 

Zero Mostel & Gene Wilder behind the last row
of the orchestra at the Cort Tehatre
Photo courtesy of The Producers

Toward the end of Indecent, one of the characters makes a powerful statement about the theatre experience.  “…the play belongs to the people who labor in it!  And the audience who put aside the time to be there in person!”  This line rings with extra veracity in this time of the pandemic shutdowns.  I look very much forward to the return of live theatre so I can belong in that way again.  I would be willing to pay three times the ticket price for that seat in the last row of the Cort Theatre, house right, third seat from the side aisle, slumped down and claustrophobic from the mezzanine overhang.  I’d even pay that price to stand where Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder stood just to engage in a live theatre experience.  It is worth any effort it takes to commune with an audience, even dodging head of a couple seated in front of me.  I look forward to that return.  I look forward to seeing you there!

Domenick Danza