Angels in New York

Today I find myself nursing a completely irrational, absolutely unrealistic crush. They are famous people, some of them, actors all, and we've never met. You know the story. And I know it will fade! I know I am bewitched by the roles as much as the people. But that's also part of the magic of the theater, so much more intimate a form of communication than the cold dead touch of celluloid could ever be. To watch someone, several someones actually, giving their all to make a story come to life, working for a full eight hours, throwing themselves against the metaphorical and literal wall in order to make a story come to life for you? Putting themselves heart and mind into another person's circumstances and trying to imagine how they would feel and behave if they were in this person's shoes from day one of life? It's very much a gift. And so yes, I'm being coy about my fanboy feelings, and yet, a couple of days after seeing both parts of Angels In America at The Neil Simon Theatre and letting the experience continue to wash over and affect me, I do have a new and very real devotion for these actors, and this story.

And yes, Andrew Garfield has a particular appeal in the way that a lanky and sensitive gent who is giving the performance of a lifetime can have on another sensitive and not so lanky gent. It helps that this is an incredible role he is playing, that of Prior Walter. In my opinion, Prior, and not Roy Cohn, is the part to covet. Sure Roy is an incredible monster, a train wreck of a part that one can't help but watch greedily, but Prior is the heart of the story. Open hearted, thriving in his world, completely at home in all his complexity. He's a rebel in a way that I will never be, defiantly being an out gay male in a world where the majority of people (even the liberals!) were still figuring out how they felt about gay people. Most people at that time, and even ten years later, had thoughts like "Good people the gays? Sure. What two people do in their bedroom? Nobody's business. Kind people? Sometimes the kindest. Artistic! Creative! But would I want to be one? Never. Why put yourself through that? And confused!! Living a life where they can never be the gender they want to be, uncomfortable in their own skin, and performing a role for us, pretending they have parts they do not have to avoid being their true selves. And life can fuck you up. Childhood can fuck you up. But do these flaws, these things that they are, whether their fault or not, do they mean I should let them be near my children to unknowingly communicate that sickness to little souls still forming? I can't do that to my kid."

Of course now, many of us are coming to the belief that the soul, or our DNA, that which makes us up, comes into this world, already formed. Pliable, and shapable like a newborns soft spot at the back of her skull, but there is no doubting that from the beginning, there is a "there" there.

This is not the world of Prior, and more than that, there is a war on. And those most afflicted and affected by it are not winning that war. But Prior is fighting that war, against a disease and a culture, telling the world to fuck off because he is going to love the person he cares for in a public way, just like everybody else gets to. Because that declaration is a very important part of the act of loving. And then we discover that this "fabulous creature", this supportive boyfriend, lover of the past, this fierce spirit, this kindred spirit, is afflicted. And we, the audience proceed to go on this eight hour journey with him, watching him from afar, and yet feeling like our finger tips are just inches from his own, and that if we extended them far enough we would grab onto his hand and walk every step with him, while at the same time we wonder if we would. We wonder if we would have Prior's strength if life had not handed us his fate. We want to be him at the same time that we fear we are his treacherous, hand wringing companion. And if the person bringing Walter to life is doing his work, we love him. You can't help, but love him. And it's a strange kind of love because you admire this actor because you know he is performing an illusion. He is not gay. Does not really know this undeniable fact of Prior's life from the inside out. And as a gay person, some piece of me wished he was gay so I could feel like he was truly reaching out to me and saying "I understand. I am like you, and I will take this journey for you." And yet, when you stop and think about it, that's exactly what he is doing. He is saying "I have been in circumstances where I felt lost, I often feel like I am fighting a world that doesn't understand me, and as much as I can, and I will take this journey for you". I mean anyone who plays anyone, even their own self on stage, is taking a leap to understand something they are not, or no longer are. And so, eight hours after watching this man undergo a willing obstacle course of imaginary nightmares and heartbreak, terror and revelation, and after his gracious and humble curtain speech worthy of Hugh Grant at his most charmingly chagrined, I am left, days later with the gentle reverberations of his efforts.

And of all their efforts. For everyone in this performance is putting their entire lifetimes into these parts. Their efforts and Kushner's will be rewarded by connecting with and winning the heart of a different member of the audience, for every individual seeing this play will see a different story, and view it through different eyes. Those who see themselves as innocent seekers will find comfort in Prior or Harper. The mothers will likely thank Hannah Pitt for the stoic way in which she suffers the sins of her child and braves connection with those so little like her on the surface.  Those still struggling with their sexuality may latch on to Joe or to Roy, and those who lived through this time and gave more than they felt they were capable of will understand too well what Belize and Louis are experiencing.

These are people who's stories were not being told in this way twenty-five years ago. And now? These stories need to continue to be told. And not just Prior's. Not just Roy's. Or Louis's, or Joe's. The way that we can honor these feelings of admiration, goodwill and gratitude that we are left with is to to speak about this story, and and to honor those who people it. To broaden that support to stories in which the Hannah's, the Belize's and the Harper's of the world get told more fully and can inspire the attention and effort which supports writers who's hearts are pouring out the words which allow these other untold stories to take center stage.