Let me preface this review by saying that my wife and I have been attending plays at this theater for several years and, for the most part, have had a wonderful experience. The stages are intimate, we designed, technologically current and altogether convenient. The ambiance of the facility alone would merit a much more favorable review but unfortunately the content of the offering must count for a significant portion of the score. And that brings me to...
X'S and O's a football love story
The most charitable thing I can report about the production was that it left both my wife and I with the painful feeling that we just spent an hour and a half that we will never get back.
The play begins with an ensemble cast, surrounded by modern gridiron music and imagery who were engaged in what can only be described as cripplingly slow choreography that walked the line between bad modern dance and goofy performance art. From there it proceeded into a sequential staccato recitation of the timeline of the genesis of the NFL punctuated with the occasional physiology 101 lesson about the realities of traumatic brain injuries complete with a lab coat and pictures and everything.
From there, it progresses to alternating segments of sympathetic depictions of ex-players and spouses who recount both their underlying fondness for the game while reciting the debilitating consequences of their participation. That would have made for some sympathy had it not been interspersed with other scenes of self-righteous indignation for the perceived transgressions of the sport. And here they do not hesitate to trot out all of the sport's nasty evils for us to revile: corporatism in the league, callous mistreatment of the players, promotion of jingoistic militarism, exploitation of the underprivileged, racism, sexism, etc... They even managed to throw in a passing barb at the league's raging homophobia in the recitation of a memo from Teddy Roosevelt to president of Harvard. In the end, this overtly preachy diatribe had all the tenor of years of built up anger from hapless theater nerds finally being given a pulpit to vent their resentment for perceived slights visited upon them in the past by the athletes they despise. At this point, I can honestly say that the best outcome of the play was savoring the delicious irony of the unlikely possibility of a halftime production by an ensemble cast of washed up thespians detailing the litany of debilitating and unjust consequences of a lifetime of participating in bad theater while fondly reminiscing about their love of the craft.
The problems with this play are twofold. First, goring the ox of the NFL is just too easy so they are left with nothing more profound than the "but what about the children?" theme. Seriously, its nothing more than "Don't let your precious little males grow up to become damaged, cast off camera meat for their indifferent ruling billionaire overlords and the legion of drooling, mindless orc-fans who pay countless sums to fill stadiums and buy crappy beer and food at seemingly endless sports bars.". The second problem is the play's prescriptions for the resolution of these societal horrors are dashed off as a series of straw men that range from the ridiculous to the absurd. Invest in better protective gear - nope, isn't effective. The league needs to update the regulations - sorry, the players are just getting bigger and faster and the league can never regulate away the laws of physics. Ban the sport - can't its too big to fail. Fans can stop watching - but we have a need to placate our innate violence through vicarious participation in gladiatorial conquest. So we can no more stop this behavior than we can choose not to slow down to gawk at the multi-car pileup on the freeway as we drive by....
I feel sorry for the actors who are given so very little to work with here. The characters are hollow and one dimensional. The subject matter is trite, strident, simplistic and reveals little more than the painfully self evident shortcomings of a pastime turned into an unbridled financial monstrosity. If you must endure this production, do yourself a favor of the fact that it lacks an intermission and have about four stiff drinks prior to the opening. That way you can depart shortly after the opening on the pretense of relief and avail yourself of the remainder of the play on the big screen in the bar. If you could just find a way to order some hot wings and watery beer at least you could enjoy life imitating art. read more