Angels in America, Part One: Millennium Approaches, Fitchandler Theatre, Arena Stage, Washington, DC

 

Nick Westrate as Prior Walter in Angels in America: Part One, Millennium Approaches. Photo by Margot Schulman.

Arguably one of the most important, and perhaps best American play of the last half of the twentieth century, is Tony Kushner’s Angels in America. A work of epic proportions, Angels is divided into two parts. Part One, Millennium Approaches, is the current offering at Arena Stage’s Fichandler Theatre. Although there has been no announcement concerning the production of Part Two, Perestroika, one can hope that, having produced such a fascinating production of Part One, Part Two will be on the schedule soon. Coming toward the end (we hope) of the plague of COVID, this play reminds us of another plague, AIDS from the 1980s, which still has not been conquered.

Seven actors play a variety of characters in three connected stories. Prior Walter has just learned that he has Kaposi’s sarcoma, indicative of the beginning stages of AIDS, and is sharing the news with his partner, Louis Ironson. Louis works in the same government agency as Joe Pitt, an idealistic young lawyer from Salt Lake City. Joe and his wife Harper (who suffers from an addiction to valium and a variety of emotional ailments) have relocated to New York, where he is mentored by the ruthless attorney Roy Cohn (who also mentored Donald Trump, among many others; sources indicate that Cohn introduced Trump to Roger Stone). Cohn came to fame working for Senator Joe McCarthy, prosecuting Ethel and Julius Rosenberg. Ethel Rosenberg is just one of many additional characters figuring in the mix, including Joe’s mother, a couple of Prior’s ancestors, a one-time drag queen turned nurse, an angel, a rabbi, a real estate agent, and an imaginary travel agent.

Attempting to recount the plot as the play unfolds would not do it justice. Time is better spent discussing the themes of the play. Certainly it is a political play, taking place in 1985 and 1986 during the Reagan presidency, a period in which Republicans were ecstatic at their opportunities to change the direction of the country, turning a blind eye and deaf ear to a plague that “only” seemed to affect gay men, Haitians, and intravenous drug users – none of whom were considered worthy of concern. It is a play about claiming one’s identity, during which Joe and Roy both initially deny their sexuality just as Harper denies her valium addiction. It is a play of philosophical differences, in which characters argue issues of racism, antisemitism, religious doctrine, homophobia, and public health in the same way that these topics are argued on editorial pages and in social media today.

I have been fascinated by Angels in America since reading it some thirty years ago, wondering how it could be staged in order to “work” as a theatrical event. I was fortunate to be able to see its original production on Broadway and vividly recall it, especially the performance of F. Murray Abraham (who replaced Ron Leibman in the role of Roy Cohn) and the spectacle of the Angel’s appearance at the end of the play. The play is cinematic in its writing, moving from one location to another or splitting the simultaneous actions between two different groups of people. I was anxious to see how Arena Stage would present the play in their Fichandler Theatre.

Billie Krishawn as the Angel in Angels in America, Part One: Millennium Approaches. Photo by Margot Schulman.

Entering the theatre space, I saw a large circular space covered with sand, a number of chandeliers encased in plastic bags, and what appeared to be a huge piece of plastic sheeting hanging from the ceiling with strategically placed holes. In the center of the stage was a hole. The actress playing the Angel was slowly pacing around the circle with a rake, just as one might groom a Japanese Buddhist Zen garden, connoting perhaps a Hindu mandala, or a labyrinth, all of which are places for rituals associated with self-assessment, contemplation, and meditation. That hole in the center of the stage would be filled from time to time with a variety of different locations, from Roy Cohn’s office to Prior Walter’s hospital room. From time to time sand trickled through the holes, falling onto a casket during a burial or onto individual characters, but its presence was a constant throughout. A metaphor for the sands of time? A connection to the earth? The granularity of life? All of the above – and more? While at first, the sand was somewhat distracting, but as the action unfolded, it was taken for granted, especially as various props were thrown or buried into it, completely obscuring the circular pattern created in the pre-show action.

Janos Szasz, a Hungarian theatre and film director, may seem an odd choice to direct this very American piece of theatre, but who better to look at Americans objectively and be able to examine us in a way we are not capable of examining ourselves? Aided and abetted by an ingenious team of designers (set design by Maruti Evans, costume design by Oana Botez, lighting design by Christopher Akerlind, music and sound design by Fabian Obispo, and wig and make-up design by the Wig Associates), Szasz and his collaborators create a world in which the audience takes flight to new dimensions, creating real and unreal worlds, locations, and cultures. The audience never knows where or how the next characters will appear or whether they will be literal or metaphorical.

Szasz directs a cast of remarkable talent. Nick Westrate gives a masterful performance as Prior Walter, baring himself and his soul on stage as his AIDS progresses, moving between reality and pain-induced fantasy with ease. We barely get to know him as a carefree, disease-free man in love before the first signs of the disease appear, but remnants of that person, witty and flamboyant, surface even in the midst of his physical pain. Westrate also appears for a short period of time as the Man in the Park, effectively and unrecognizably, a seamy denizen of Central Park.

Michael Kevin Darnall, who bears some physical resemblance to playwright Tony Kushner, appears as Prior’s lover, Louis Ironson (incidentally, the only actor playing a single role). Louis knows that leaving Prior during his time of need is unforgiveable, but it is his only choice, even knowing that he will be punished for it. Darnall manages to gain some of the audience’s sympathy, though he (and we) know that he is doing the wrong thing by leaving Prior in his time of need.

Deborah Ann Woll and John Austin are well-cast as Harper and Joe Pitt. Woll captures Harper’s essential instability and quirkiness as she puts together the pieces concerning her husband’s sexuality. The audience sees that she is delusional and emotionally unstable, but cannot help but root for her as she finds her own escape through fantasy. John Austin shows Joe’s unsurety and duality as he plays out the various opposites he faces: is he gay or straight, ethical or not, principled or power-hungry? No matter what he does, he will disappoint someone: his wife, his mother, his mentor, or his would-be romantic partner. (Rereading the play after seeing it, what I thought I heard in the play as “bunny kisses” between Joe and Harper is written as “buddy kisses,” which conveys a very different image.) Austin, more than any of the other actors, seemed to have some problems in moving amid the sand covering the stage; his movements and kicking up the sand drew more attention than the other performers.

Susan Rome as Roy's doctor and Edward Gero as Roy Cohn in Angels in America, Part One: Millennium Approaches. Photo by Margot Schulman.

Susan Rome makes a strong impression, initially as a rabbi and later as Hannah Pitt (Joe’s mother), Roy’s doctor, and a very eerie Ethel Rosenberg. As the rabbi burying Louis’s grandmother, Rome gets the show off to its start with the ritual of the funeral. As Roy’s doctor, she is a strong counterbalance to Roy, who insists that he does not have AIDS. Despite the doctor’s diagnosis, he insists that he cannot have AIDS because he is a man with power. He has stomach cancer and that is the lie he will give the media. He has the ear of the president and, more importantly, the president’s wife. Karmically, Rome appears as Ethel Rosenberg to torture the dying Roy Cohn, especially since we learn that he committed prosecutorial misconduct to make sure that she would receive the death penalty. 

Billie Krishawn’s primary assignment is as the Angel, in which she manages to be both ethereal and earthly. She is both empathetic and sympathetic as nurse Emily, comically eccentric as real estate agent Ella, and physically menacing as a homeless woman.

Nick Westrate as Prior Walter and Justin Weaks as Belize in Angels in America, Part One: Millennium Approaches. Photo by Margot Schulman.

As I recall, the character of Belize is more prominent in Part Two, Perestroika, which should be staged, at a minimum, so that Justin Weaks could play that role. Belize is a former drag performer and lover to Prior, who has become a nurse. As Belize, Weaks takes on Louis in a powerful dialogue about racism and antisemitism, proving his innate humanity and care for Prior. Weaks is also lithe and nimble as Mr. Lies, outrageously costumed as a figment of Harper’s imagination, who takes her on an unforgettable excursion to Antarctica.

I have not saved the best for last, because I would be hard-pressed to choose a “best” among this cast, but I can choose the most evil of the lot. Edward Gero, a giant in the world of DC theatre, gives an indelible performance as Roy Cohn. Cohn is completely devoid of honorable characteristics, a creature who has opportunistically managed to make himself important. Power is the prize and that is the lesson he wants to impart to his protégé, the idealistic Joe. Based on a true historical character, Kushner may have heightened Cohn’s vileness, but as Gero plays him, we can easily believe that he is evil incarnate. That we see him as evil is delightfully contrasted with his brief scenes as one of Prior’s foppish previous incarnations.

I left Arena’s production of Angels in America, Part One: Millennium Approaches, totally drained emotionally, aware that I had been a part of an indelible theatrical experience. The creativity and imagination that went into this production leave me speechless, the intensity and truth of its performances leave me in awe. I have replayed moments of the production – and will continue to do so – finding more meaning with each replay.

The Saturday night performance that I attended was, unfortunately, not well attended, which is sad. The idea of sitting through a three-and-a-half hour performance may discourage you, but I assure you that I have seen plays of half the length that seemed twice as long. This is important, life-changing theatre, creatively staged and expertly performed, that deserves to be seen by large audiences. The show has several weekday matinees scheduled and continues through April 23.