The Vertical Hour

I believe I've already mentioned my aversion to Broadway musicals (although, to be fair, the last few I've attended have been surprisingly worthwhile). In contrast, I find the dramatic theater irresistible. Instead of paying somewhat exorbitant prices to see a film in Times Square, I can walk a block or two and enjoy the performances of live actors (in some cases the same people I would have seen onscreen), for not much more (when I'm lucky enough to search out hefty discounts).

A friend of mine posts "audience reviews" on his blog, where he critiques the etiquette of his fellow theatergoers instead of the performance. In that spirit, I definitely prefer play audiences to musical audiences. I would estimate that the typical Broadway crowd is about 80% tourists (higher if it's a Disney production, of course). However, in my observation, more native New Yorkers are interested in seeing plays, so I don't feel as if I've mistakenly wandered into a Red State when I enter the theater.

David Hare's politically charged The Vertical Hour proved to be both more currently relevant and thought-provoking than I had expected. The plot follows a former war correspondent (recently retired into a Political Studies professorship at Yale) on a trajectory-altering visit to the English country estate owned by her boyfriend's father. In her portrayal of Nadia Blye, Julianne Moore reminded me of those musicians whom, although incredibly talented, are difficult to watch because they radiate discomfort while onstage. In contrast, Bill Nighy (as the father) seemed completely and utterly at ease. He is nearly ubiquitous these days (I just saw him in Notes on a Scandal as Cate Blanchett's crusty old husband), and Nighy's apparently effortless charisma was disarming. Although it subtly incorporated many themes, at the play's heart was a single observation: be it personally or as a society, it is always simpler for us to live in denial than to face the truth.