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Remember that part in Jurassic Park when Ian What's-His-Fuck says something along the lines of, "They were so busy thinking about whether they could. No one stopped to think whether or not they should"? Murder Ballad Murder Mystery is like Jurassic Park sans dinosaurs and coherent narrative (right down to the theme of dead things being resurrected). Oh, it's visually stunning, resourceful, raucous, and joyous theatre-making, but there are clearly ill-conceived aspects to the whole affair. While fresh, the piece is unripe and therefore minimally nutritious.
First of all, the program contains a supposedly preparatory blurb that seemed more like a caveat, tacitly saying "If you're expecting shit to make sense, don't worry about it. It doesn't have to. Anyway, we know what we're talking about." If a play depends on a nebulous paragraph in the program to impart coherence to the audience, that's problematic. There were no character bios or lists of source material. Why bother talking about something esoteric if you're not going to give the audience necessary information to help them keep up?
Speaking of being dragged along, Elizabeth Doss' script races desultorily, distracted by synaptic misfire. The thematic elements just garble over, contradict, and shoot past one another with little to no connection. Any knowledge of the nature of the piece is masked with a frantic zeal. Dustin Wills (Black Snow, Ophelia) imbues the script with vivacity the way murder ballads do for the dead, encouraging the beast to scramble and wreak havoc. It might have succeeded if not for an ill-administered and confounding injection of something like a narrative in to the 2nd act that stopped the animal in its tracks. It is unclear whether it had a destination in the first place.
If one's piece is securely rooted neither in cohesive storyline nor conversational theme, it should be studded with believable characters. Those that populate Wills' other productions are studded with high theatricality, but possess an undercurrent of sincerity. This is largely not the case with "Murder Ballad". Be hyperbolic all you want, but make sure that truth is at the root, lest it seem a lie. The performances were not in accord; some ostensibly strove for honesty and some disregarded the notion wholly. We're dealing with legends that used to be people, with the idea that murder ballads immortalize and instill their subjects with glinting humanity. These dichotomies should be reflected in the characterizations, but instead we're left with satirical, farcical performances that seem to dissuade an audience attempting to take seriously and engage with the work and instead endorse a passive willingness to be washed over.
The utilization of the space was evocative. The lighting, sound, and music constructive and intriguing. The striking and consuming set endorsed the frenetic nature of the piece, allowing Will's hallmark strengths of utilization and getting his money's worth to gleam. The dynamic staging had characters scrambling behind and above the audience, splashing them with water and crawling over them across the risers. However, with audience engagement so clearly the focus, and no real reward offered at the end, the entire piece almost feels like a self-serving, flashy ruse.
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Has there ever been an article in more desperate need of an editor? Did anyone read this before it was posted? My head is aching.
The reviewer of this play is an idiot. Pure and simple. He thinks he knows theatre, but he can't read a program, is incapable of following a story line, and can't write worth a damn.
A single example should suffice to demonstrate why no one should ever take this reviewer--as a reviewer, actor, playwright, or director--seriously. The introductory blurb to which he so snarkily and snidely refers is, in fact, a short introduction to the murder ballad form and format. As the introduction states, the play follows the format, so that if you are not familiar with the structure and content of murder ballads, you will be able to understand the play. There is neither anything new with providing guidance nor anything insulting or demeaning about doing so. Even Shakespeare used a prologue from time to time.
Another example of his pitiable attempt at criticism: "Speaking of being dragged along, Elizabeth Doss' script races desultorily, distracted by synaptic misfire. The thematic elements just garble over, contradict, and shoot past one another with little to no connection."
First of all, no one was "speaking of being dragged along," least of all the reviewer. While he couldn't keep up, no one else has had any problems.
Secondly, "desultory" means "marked by lack of definite plan or regularity or purpose; jumping from one thing to another"--and Carboni's description once again does not comport with reality. The play does move quickly along, but it has a definite plan and purpose: to tell a story using the murder ballad form. The fact that Carboni clearly missed that from the beginning is the reason he was left behind.
There were no misfiring synapses evident in the script or the performance; everything followed from the original premise. It didn't always go in a straight line, but it was internally consistent, sensible, and logically complete. Apparently looking for pure linearity, Carboni was left behind when stories overlapped or when he couldn't see what was coming next.
Enough. This review of the review is longer than the review itself. I apologize, but I think it is important to explain that Carboni's review is flawed and, ultimately, worthless as serious theatre criticism. He gets off by piling on.
Mr Carboni is clearly entitled to his opinion. He is not entitled to his own facts. He would have us believe that not only did he understand the underlying premise, but also that he could follow the lively and satisfying play.His review demonstrates that neither is true. Ignore him; discard his ramblings. Go see the play for yourself. You will enjoy it.
To his credit, Carboni did, at least, sign his name to his criticism.
The line about not being "entitled to his own set of facts", while still as rhetorically badass as it was when Daniel Patrick Moynihan said it, doesn't really apply in the case of opinion-based criticism. Your "facts" are, what, that the play makes perfect sense and is "lively and satisfying"? Those aren't exactly things that fit the definition of "fact", and it speaks to why your comment is kind of silly - apparently the only criticism of Murder Ballad that you'd accept would have to start from the premise that the show is awesome. I'm sure that you worked really hard on it, but that doesn't necessarily mean that all of the things you think it does well are actually accomplished effectively. The perspective of the theatermaker is usually pretty biased when it comes to that sort of thing - for obvious and totally fair reasons - which is why we send critics out to discuss the show at all. Otherwise, the entire audience would just have to take the cast and crew's word for it that what they saw was amazing, lest their opinions be rendered invalid.
--d
Also, v. important: It was Jeff Goldblum that said that line, not Ian Somebodyorother.
Who was, of course, playing the character Ian Malcolm. I knew that.