this week in literature

EDDIE IZZARD: CHARLES DICKENS’ GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Eddie Izzard works some magic in one-woman adaptation of Charles Dickens’s Great Expectations, (photo by Bruce Glikas)

GREAT EXPECTATIONS
The Greenwich House Theater
27 Barrow St. at Seventh Ave. South
Tuesday – Sunday through January 22, $60-$99
www.eddieizzardgreatexpectations.com

Eddie Izzard is absolutely delightful portraying approximately twenty characters in her one-woman retelling of Charles Dickens’s Great Expectations, continuing at the Greenwich House Theater through January 22. Adapted by Izzard’s brother, Mark, into a taut two hours (with intermission) from the five-hundred-plus-page 1861 novel, it’s a classic British coming-of-age story divided into three stages of the life of one Philip Pirrip. The Aden-born, two-time Emmy-winning, Tony-nominated actor, comedian, and activist — who is exactly 150 years younger than Dickens to the day — looks fabulous in spiky blond hair and a steampunk goth costume (by Tom Piper and Libby da Costa) consisting of a ruffled V-neck white blouse, form-fitting black coat, black skirt, black stockings, and knee-high lace-up black boots. Piper’s set features lush red drapery in the front and the dilapidated facade of a white house with graying, torn curtains in the back, emblematic of the faded royalty of Miss Havisham, one of the most memorable figures in all of literature.

Izzard is Pip, the book’s narrator, who sets the tone and scene in the opening monologue:

My father’s family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So I called myself Pip. I never saw my father or my mother, never saw any likeness of either of them, for their days were long before the days of photographs, that wondrous new invention. Ours was the marsh country, south and east of London by the Thames river, within twenty miles of the sea. On a raw afternoon towards evening I found out that this bleak place overgrown with nettles was the churchyard; that Philip Pirrip, late of this parish, and also Georgiana, wife of the above, were dead and buried; and that five little stone lozenges, arranged in a neat row beside, were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine. I also discovered that the dark flat wilderness beyond the churchyard was the marshes, and that the distant savage lair from which the wind was rushing was the sea, and that Pip was the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it all.

Pip is seven when the tale begins, living with his sole remaining sibling, his mean sister, who is married to the kind blacksmith Joe Gargery. Wallking through the marshes, Pip is accosted by a dangerous-looking man, Abel Magwitch, who declares, “Hold your noise, you little devil, or I’ll cut your throat!” He demands that Pip bring him food and an iron file, and Pip obliges, seeing no other choice, stealing the items, including a Christmas pork pie, that was meant for such family and friends as Mr. Wopsle, Uncle Pumblechook, and the Hubbles. “I was too cowardly to do what I knew to be right, just as I had been too cowardly to avoid doing what I knew to be wrong,” he admits, a theme that runs through his life, which takes its next turn when he is summoned by the mysterious spinster Miss Havisham, who wants the poor Pip to play with her adopted daughter, Estella.

Eddie Izzard is superb as Pip and everyone else in Great Expectations (photo by Bruce Glikas)

Pip, who learned how to read from the orphan Biddy, is desperate to become a gentleman, and the surprise opportunity arises when a London lawyer named Jaggers arrives, explaining to Joe that a benefactor wishing to remain anonymous is offering Pip the chance to study in the city and, indeed, become a gentleman. “I have come to relieve you of your apprentice,” Jaggers says to Joe. “The communication I have to make is that this young fellow has great expectations.”

Those “great expectations” lead Pip to meet London tutor Matthew Pocket, son of Herbert Pocket, Miss Havisham’s cousin; Jaggers’s clerk, Mr. Wemmick; rival scholar Bentley Drummle; Magwitch’s fellow convict, Compeyson; the merchant Clarriker; and Clara Barley, who takes a liking to Herbert. The adaptation has cut a few figures from the story, including Miss Havisham’s younger half-brother, Arthur; blacksmith Dolge Orlick; Wemmick’s friend Miss Skiffins; and another of Pip’s fellow students, Startop.

Izzard, who has appeared in such films as Ocean’s Twelve and Ocean’s Thirteen, The Lego Batman Movie, and Whiskey Galore!, such television series as The Riches, Hannibal, and Powers, and such plays as The Cryptogram, A Day in the Death of Joe Egg, and Race, is dyslexic; as a challenge, she recorded Great Expectations as an audiobook, the first major literary work she had ever read, and in doing so decided to make it into a solo show. She has a graceful, commanding stage presence onstage, smoothly transitioning between roles with just a twist of her body and a slight change of voice; the subtle movement direction is by Didi Hopkins. Izzard’s clear familiarity with the text and understanding of the material help her develop a quick rapport with the audience, who cannot help but root for Pip, a character previously played by such actors as John Mills, Roddy McDowall, Michael York, and Ethan Hawke.

The Izzards and director Selina Cadell (Love for Love, The Life I Lead) create a menacing Victorian atmosphere, especially when it comes to Miss Havisham; when she is in a scene, Tyler Elich/Lightswitch turns down the lights onstage and up on either side of the audience, an eerie glow building slowly to correspond with the ghostliness of Miss Havisham’s existence. You can practically see and smell the (nonexistent) decaying, rat-eaten bride-cake in the corner, the remnants of her being left at the altar many years before.

“As I had grown accustomed to my expectations, I had begun to notice their effect upon me and those around me and I knew very well that it was not all good,” Izzard says as Pip about halfway through the play. Izzard lives up to expectations, and it is all good.

OLIVIA HARRISON AND MARTIN SCORSESE IN CONVERSATION: CAME THE LIGHTENING: TWENTY POEMS FOR GEORGE

Who: Olivia Harrison, Martin Scorsese
What: New York City book launch
Where: Kaufmann Concert Hall, 92nd St. Y, 1395 Lexington Ave. between Ninety-First & Ninety-Second Sts., and online
When: Sunday, November 20, in person $31.50 – $55, livestream $25, 8:00
Why: “Only the past is carved in stone / So that it will not be forgotten. / This sand, once granite, / Covers and clings to my wet feet. / Ancient geology as I walk to the sea / Each grain a memory being set free / To solidify and be carved again / Marking the time once more / So the past will not be forgotten.” In her new book, Came the Lightening: Twenty Poems for George (Genesis, June 2022, $35), Olivia Harrison, the widow of beloved musician George Harrison, remembers her husband through twenty poems, photographs, drawings, and more, in honor of the twentieth anniversary of his death from cancer in 2001 at the age of fifty-eight. (The book includes contributions from Henry Grossman, Sue Flood, Mary McCartney, Marcus Tomlinson, Klaus Voormann, and Brian Roylance.) Among the poems are “End of the Line,” “My Arrival,” “Without Hummingbirds,” “Keepsakes,” and the aforementioned “Carved in Stone.” Olivia, who married George in 1978, writes, “Here on the shore, twenty years later / my message in a bottle has reached / dry land. Words about our life, his death / but mostly love and our journey to the end.”

On November 20 at 8:00, Olivia Harrison will be joined by Oscar-winning director Martin Scorsese at the 92nd St. Y’s Kaufmann Concert Hall for the New York City launch of the book, celebrating the life and career of the Quiet Beatle. (A special-edition signed book-and-print edition will be available December 6 for £125.) If you can’t make it to the event, it will also be livestreamed. As George Harrison sang more than fifty years ago, “Sunrise doesn’t last all morning / A cloudburst doesn’t last all day / Seems my love is up and has left you with no warning / It’s not always gonna be this grey / All things must pass / All things must pass away.”

FINALE — LATE CONVERSATIONS WITH STEPHEN SONDHEIM: AN EVENING WITH D. T. MAX

Who: D. T. Max, Michael Schulman
What: Book launch
Where: The National Arts Club, 15 Gramercy Park South
When: Thursday, November 17, free with RSVP, 8:00
Why: “I always wanted to write about Stephen Sondheim. Actually, long before writing about him was a possibility, I just wanted to meet Stephen Sondheim. In the spring of that long-ago year 1977, my mother went to a benefit for the Phoenix Theatre, a repertory company that pioneered off-Broadway theater. The event included a performance of Side by Side by Sondheim, a revue of the composer-lyricist’s songs. Going to benefits was not the sort of thing my mother usually did, but my uncle was a playwright whom the Phoenix had championed, and he might have persuaded her. Sondheim at the time was exactly the sort of creator the Phoenix wanted to associate itself with. He was remaking the American musical in the same way the Phoenix was trying to remake the theatrical landscape.”

So begins D. T. Max’s new book, Finale: Late Conversations with Stephen Sondheim (Harper, November 22, $20.99), which collects three years of interviews he conducted with Sondheim, including discussions about technology, boring books, pop music, movies, New York City, the joys of live theater, and more. It was initially going to be for a profile for the New Yorker, focusing on a new musical Sondheim was writing, but the pandemic and the maestro’s death changed things. On November 17 at 8:00, Max (The Family That Couldn’t Sleep: A Medical Mystery, Every Love Story Is a Ghost Story: A Life of David Foster Wallace) will be at the National Arts Club to launch Finale with the help of fellow New Yorker scribe Michael Schulman; admission is free with advance RSVP.

STEVE MARTIN, HARRY BLISS, AND NATHAN LANE: NUMBER ONE IS WALKING

Who: Steve Martin, Harry Bliss, Nathan Lane
What: Book launch
Where: The Town Hall, 123 West Forty-Third St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
When: Tuesday, November 15, $68, 8:00
Why: Multihyphenate Steve Martin has made films and records and written plays, movie scripts, novels, children’s books, and tongue-in-cheek self-help tomes. He has now entered the graphic novel field with Number One Is Walking: My Life in the Movies and Other Diversions (Celadon, November 15, $30), with the help of black-and-white illustrations by cartoonist Harry Bliss. A follow-up to their 2020 cartoon collection A Wealth of Pigeons, the new book features scenes in which Martin looks back at his career for the first time in print. The title comes from a Hollywood trope; in one panel, Martin explains, “On a movie call sheet, the actors are listed numerically. The lead is number one, the second lead is number two, etc. I was slightly embarrassed on my first film, The Jerk, when I would head toward the set and the assistant director would trail me, transmitting into his walkie talkie . . . ‘Number one is walking.’” Martin points out that he was also “number one” on Bowfinger, Cheaper by the Dozen, and Bringing Down the House, but when he did Nancy Meyers’s It’s Complicated with Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin, each time he came on set he was horrified to hear: “Number three is walking.”

Longtime New Yorker cartoonist Bliss has illustrated such books as Joanna Cotler’s Sorry (Really Sorry), Doreen Cronin’s Diary of a Worm, and Alison McGhee’s Countdown to Kindergarten as well as writing and illustrating Bailey and Luke on the Loose. On November 15 at 8:00, Martin and Bliss will be at the Town Hall to discuss their collaboration; serving as moderator will be the one and only Nathan Lane, who appears with Martin in Only Murders in the Building. All audience members will receive a signed copy of Number One Is Walking: My Life in the Movies and Other Diversions, courtesy of the Strand.

ALBERT CAMUS’ THE FALL

Ronald Guttman brings his one-man show, Albert Camus’ The Fall, to the Huron Club at SoHo Playhouse (photo © Zack DeZon)

ALBERT CAMUS’ THE FALL
The Huron Club at SoHo Playhouse
15 Vandam St. between Varick St. & Sixth Ave.
Wednesday – Saturday through November 19, $51, 7:30
www.sohoplayhouse.com/the-fall
www.highbrow.net

Theater is all about the connection between audience and performer. During the pandemic lockdown, I watched hundreds of livestreamed or prerecorded shows, but being at home in front of your computer by yourself is not the same as sitting in a dark venue with other people as a story unfolds in front of you, told by live actors.

Among the memorable virtual plays I watched was Albert Camus’ The Fall, Alexis Lloyd’s adaptation of Camus’ final novel, known in French as La Chute. The book was published in 1956; Nobel Prize winner Camus, who also wrote A Happy Death, The Stranger, and The Plague, would die four years later in a car accident at the age of forty-six. The one-man show starred Belgian-born actor Ronald Guttman onstage in FIAF’s Tinker Auditorium on October 1, 2020, with an audience of twenty-five.

Guttman has been presenting various iterations of The Fall, which he first read when he was seventeen, for more than two decades; the latest version, directed by Didier Flamand, takes place in the Huron Club at SoHo Playhouse, a downstairs bar with a small stage. The audience is seated at round tables, several of which are only a few feet from the stage; there is also a row of barstools. The walls are plastered with images of women, in framed pictures and pages from magazines, along with a few travel posters; the stage features a backdrop of an Amsterdam canal. Guttman, wearing an old brown suit, his long white hair nearly reaching his shoulders, enters from the rear of the room, instantly making eye contact with just about everyone. It’s an exciting moment that can’t be experienced virtually. He walks onstage and then scans the crowd again, deciding which member of the audience will serve as a stand-in for the man his character addresses directly in the book, which is essentially a public confession by Parisian ex-pat former lawyer Jean-Baptiste Clamence, delivered to an unidentified person in a seedy dive bar in Amsterdam’s red light district.

The night I went, he selected me.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. You’re probably . . . a businessman? Kind of a businessman? We all tend to be kind of, in almost everything,” he says to me at the start, carefully looking me over. “Let me guess, if you don’t mind. You’re in your fifties, you’ve been around, kind of . . . Your hands are clean, and you’re well dressed, kind of. You’re upper-middle class, but . . . sophisticated upper-middle class. And you find me amusing, which means you’re open minded. Kind of.” He didn’t do too bad, although I was wearing a jeans jacket and a black mask. (Masks are optional.) I would nod, shake my head, or laugh in response, confident the best thing was to say nothing.

He then turns to the rest of the audience and explains, “As for me, well, I’ll let you be the judge of that. In spite of my good manners, and my way with words, I am a regular of these sailors dives, here in Amsterdam. There’s only one thing simple about me: I don’t own anything. I used to, I used to be wealthy, back in Paris.”

Looking at me once again, he adds, “Which makes us compatriots, I imagine?”

Ronald Guttman is mesmerizing as Parisian ex-pat former lawyer Jean-Baptiste Clamence in The Fall (photo © Zack DeZon)

It’s a fabulous opening to this immersive experience, in which Clamence shares aspects of his private and professional life as he walks around the space, gets drinks from the bartender — who spends the sixty-minute show reading a copy of Playboy — and stops by each table to make sure everyone is involved in his tale. He moves and speaks with an eloquent, elegant poetry as he explores the nature of truth and humanity’s innocence, and its guilt. “I look trustworthy, don’t you think?” he asks. “If thieves were always condemned, honest people would always feel innocent, and that would be a disaster.”

He talks about his success with women, about his insufficiencies, about shame. “Think for a moment about your own life, search your own memories, maybe you’ll find something of that kind,” he says. “Something you’ll tell me later, one day.”

The centerpiece is a rainy November night when Clamence — a play on the word clemence, which means “forgiveness” — passes a woman on a bridge, then hears a loud splash in the river below, along with several screams, followed by silence. “I wanted to run to her, but I didn’t move,” he admits. He walks away, convincing himself there was nothing he could do. It’s a poignant parable for the choices we all have to make every day. Camus is forcing us to put ourselves under the microscope, facing what we’ve done, what we haven’t done, and whether there’s still time to confess and change, how to avoid being judged but still be punished.

“You can never really prove anybody’s innocence, but you can be sure we’re all guilty,” he says. “Every man bears witness to the crimes of all the others, such is my faith, such is my only hope.”

Guttman (Bauer, Patriots) is mesmerizing as Clamence; he embodies the character from the moment he enters the Huron Club. We are not so much watching a one-man show as listening to a stranger telling us about his life and how we can learn from his story as we, perhaps, become friends.

“I don’t have any friends anyway, not anymore. I only have accomplices. But I have a lot of them; they are the whole of mankind,” he tells everyone. He then looked right at me and said, “And within mankind, you. You’re the first of my accomplices. The one who is there is always the first accomplice.”

Consider me guilty as charged.

GrahamDeconstructed — MARTHA GRAHAM: WHEN DANCE BECAME MODERN

Who: Martha Graham Dance Company, Neil Baldwin, Janet Eilber
What: GrahamDeconstructed
Where: Martha Graham Studio Theater, 55 Bethune St., eleventh floor
When: November 8-9, in person $20-$30 (livestream $25), 7:00
Why: “For me, growing up in the Manhattan neighborhood where Lincoln Center would someday be built, the name ‘Martha Graham’ conjured a distant image: A goddess-like, athletic personage in a tight, shirred bodice extended at the hips into a flowing gown, her bare right foot weighted and planted as if holding to the floor, left leg poised aloft at an impossible angle revealing a long, muscular thigh emerging from the play of fabric in the eloquent garment. Her right arm is bent, her hand half-crooked at the wrist, fingers contracted and crowning a smooth brow while she gazes, angular-featured, luminous half-closed eyes fixed downward and focused inward, seeking an undefined, urgent answer.” That’s how Neil Baldwin describes his subject at the beginning of his new biography, Martha Graham: When Dance Became Modern (Knopf, October 2022, $40).

On November 8 and 9 at 7:00, the Martha Graham Dance Company will present a special program as part of its continuing “GrahamDeconstructed” series. Baldwin, who has also written such books as The American Revelation, Man Ray: American Artist, Edison: Inventing the Century, and Henry Ford and the Jews, will be at the Martha Graham Studio Theater on Bethune St. to launch the book, reading sections — joined by MGDC company members who will perform excerpts from dances he mentions — signing copies, and participating in a discussion with MGDC artistic director Janet Eilber, followed by a wine reception. The event will be livestreamed as well.

BOOK SIGNING WITH KIMBERLY BROWN: NAVIGATING GRIEF AND LOSS

Kimberly Brown will celebrate new book at Rubin Museum on November 4 (photo courtesy Kimberly Brown)

Who: Kimberly Brown
What: Book launch
Where: Rubin Museum of Art, 150 West 17th St. at Seventh Ave.
When: Friday, November 4, free, 6:30 – 8:30
Why: “Unsuccessful attempts to deny, bypass, or discharge pain create disappointment or frustration and increase our suffering. Why do I still feel so angry? When am I going to stop being so tired? These can also make our feelings even more powerful, insistent, and overwhelming, because they need to be heard and cared for by you before they can resolve,” meditation and mindfulness teacher Kimberly Brown writes in her new book, Navigating Grief and Loss: 25 Buddhist Practices to Keep Your Heart Open to Yourself and Others. Brown’s follow-up to July 2020’s Steady, Calm, and Brave: 25 Practices of Resilience and Wisdom in a Crisis, Navigating Grief and Loss pairs chapters with guided practice; for example, “There Is Nothing Wrong with You” is linked with “Stay,” “When People Behave Badly” with “Forgive and Remember,” and “Mourning and Social Media” with “Skillful Speech.”

“I wrote the book to share the practices that supported me after my dear friend Denise died, and when my elderly dad had a health crisis during the pandemic, and included chapters on divorce and job loss too because not all painful losses are deaths,” Brown explained in a Substack post. “I hope it will remind everyone that profound loss doesn’t have to overwhelm or destroy us because we can learn useful and simple tools to meet our pain and sadness with kindness and wisdom, and open our beautiful hearts to ourselves and everyone else — to connect in our sorrows as well as our joys.” Brown will be at the Rubin Museum on November 4 to sign copies of the book as part of the institution’s free K2 Friday Nights program. Brown is one of the teachers in the museum’s Mindfulness Meditation series on Mondays; you can listen to past sessions here. In addition, on November 15 at 7:00, Brown will celebrate the book’s release with an online party hosted by Mindful Astoria.