Godspell (2011 Revival)

Circle in the Square

Next to the enormous Gershwin Theatre is the tiny, scrappy, and innovative Circle in the Square Theatre. In 2011 it housed the, dare I say cult-classic, Godspell. This production would mark the first official revival of the show on Broadway, although a popular off-Broadway rendition played in 2000. The 2011 production did not receive much critical acclaim. In fact, it was shut out from the Tony's. However, the memories from the show will stick with me still.  

. . . 

The only other time I had been to a theatre-in-the-round was to see a local college's performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was utterly confusing when I saw it. I had no idea what was going on, plus I was dangling over a balcony, which, quite literally, put me on edge. 

When I took the escalator down the New York theatre and turned the corner into the auditorium, I was taken aback. It was so small! I couldn't believe a theatre in New York could be so intimate.  

Additionally, the setup of the stage and "pit" also perplexed me. I didn't know how the sound would work with the tiny pit sprinkled throughout the room. I feared that I would be distracted by the band's placement throughout the audience, but I wasn't. Yet, I wasn't seated right next to a guitarist. 

I also wasn't sure how the show was going to start. Of course I figured the lights would dim, but how long would it be for the show to really start after that point?

Well, there was no confusion there. Uzo Aduba stalked onto the stage with such ferocity that I honestly was wondering if some crazy person had bustled in from the street and was just making a scene (pun intended).

Nope. It was just the actress delivering her lines with the most energy and passion I have ever witnessed onstage. I think the smallness of the environment and the projection she had was the perfect recipe for a dynamic start to the show. 

. . . 

Throughout the beginning of the show I recall how many contemporary, topical jokes were thrown in to the script. On the one hand, it was funny. On the other hand, most of the jokes felt cheap. It felt forced. It felt like putting a square peg through a round hole (pun intended, once more). 

. . . 

To see how the director overcame blocking challenges was satisfying. What was even more satisfying was to see how inventive the set designer was. One would think that condensing the space would limit a designer. In this case, the designer found clever solutions: cut-outs. The wooden floor had slats that were retracted to reveal something new. In the first song, the slats opened up to small pools of water in which the disciples walked on water. For "We Beseech Thee," the slats unveiled individualized trampolines. In "By My Side," fog spewed from the slats. Trap doors are nothing new, but these trap doors were multipurposeful. 

. . . 

The start of Act 2 disoriented me. No entr'acte I knew of had actors singing nonchalantly. Telly Leung came out to the piano and broke the fourth wall. He then brought out two other actors to perform a reprise of "Learn Your Lessons Well." At the time, it seemed like three people just pal-ing around with each other, but now I realize how it was almost a somber foreshadowing. It was the last time the actors would interact with the audience directly before the future had to take its course. It was our last supper -- I mean, really -- they gave us food at intermission on stage (another disorienting practice). 

. . . 

Christ's crucifixion is the obvious climax of the show. When it came time for the scene, the entire mood had shifted in the room. Everyone knew what was going to happen. What I most recall is not watching the actors during the scene's buildup, but watching the other audience members. That is a joy of theatre-in-the-round: you can more easily see how those around you in the audience are reacting. Sure, it can be awkward, but it can also be inspiring. When it became "real" that Jesus was going to be nailed to the cross, I watched a young girl's face drop. She turned to her mother with a look of, "Wait -- you don't mean they're actually going to do this?" That moment in the theater perhaps is the most important moment I've witnessed. I couldn't help but think, Who all had that same exact reaction at the actual crucifixion? I was witnessing a girl experiencing empathy for someone who was depicting the Savior. I was witnessing someone understand the humanity of Jesus. I was witnessing life change. It can seem abstract and vague for people to talk about the power of theater, but that moment made the advocacy of theater real to me. 

. . . 

The end of Godspell can vary. I knew this heading in to the show, and I was quite anxious to see what spin this production would have on the finale. Ultimately, I was relieved by the optimism. When the disciples carried Jesus's body over their heads, it was symbolic. What surprised me is when they practically threw his body into the air upon the start of the chorus. That movement exclaimed victory, hope, and joy. Catharsis occurred. 

. . . 

The next show I would see would be another Stephen Schwartz hit. This revival far surpassed Godspell in its critical acclaim. The show was Pippin.