The Mysteries at The Flea: I Have Thoughts (unabridged)

Epic.

That is a word bandied about too often in the world of storytelling.  But it is one word that perfectly describes the night one experiences when they journey to The Flea Theater’s presentation of Ed Iskander’s The Mysteries.

It is so epic in fact, that one word is simply not enough to describe the night in its entirety.  A second word I would choose stands somewhat at odds with the first but is no less accurate in theme or experience.  That word is communal.

You probably don’t even need to see The Mysteries to understand why it would be labeled as an epic.  A nearly six hour long production, featuring over 50 actors and nearly as many writers, telling the story of the “Entire history of man’s salvation from the fall of Lucifer through and including Judgment Day.”  Possibly more mysterious is the label of “communal”. 

Everything about this show seems designed to connect the audience with the production, from the cast to the set to the stories themselves.  The play is acted out among the audience (a runway style stage that puts the action directly between different sections of audience), and right from the moment you enter the theater you are among the actors, not only viewing them in character but talking with them as well (and possibly ordering a drink or two from one of them).  The intimate staging leads to many a stare down between actor and audience member and the action at times creeps so close that you will literally be shaking in your seat.

Intimacy is unquestionably one of the clearer themes of the evening, between God and man, the characters of the show, and the actors and the audience.  This intimacy culminates with the final segment, a Kumbaya type scene titled “Sermon of the Senses” in which the actors recount (seemingly out of character but still scripted) the many gifts of being (see: “My Favorite Things” – Rogers and Hammerstein).  Indeed, much of the show gives off something of a late 1960s free love, libertine aroma, at times giving the stories a charming edge, at others trying too hard to break the mold from which it was cast.

The story itself is a somewhat uneven affair.  It often appears confused as to who or even what it is all about as it jumps from story to story and genre to genre.  With a production as ambitious as Mysteries which claims its source material from both canonical and apocrypha traditions, speculative controversies (Jesus and Mary Magdalene), as well as wholly new story angles (Jesus and Judas!?) things are bound to get a little convoluted. 

As if things weren’t already difficult enough to tackle, the production gives itself the added challenge of frequently changing genres throughout the show often altering the mood drastically from scene to scene.  It shifts from period piece to steam punk to satiric comedy to modern day drama and back again several times over and with the exception of a few odd scenes it works quite strongly to the show’s advantage.  The three act, episodic nature of the play helps to keep the story fresh and fast paced and while it does little to help digest the story as a whole it works wonders for consumption in the moment.

God on the eve of creation.

The story begins on the eve of creation with God (played commandingly by Matthew Jeffers) casting out, Lucifer (Asia Kate Dillon), and assigning his right hand, Gabriel (Alice Allemano).  God then moves right along and creates man and we have a relatively straightforward telling of the Garden of Eden story appropriately featuring fully nude Adam and Eve played with wondrously energetic naivety by Jaspal Binning and Alesandra Nahodil.

Next up comes the stories of Cain and Abel, Abraham and Isaac (who seemingly moved from Eden to the hills of West Virginia), to a very fire and brimstone Noah.

It doesn’t take God long to grow tired of his new creations.  This is not your grandmother’s God.  The God of The Mysteries feels less an omniscient all-powerful entity and more like a God cut from Greek Mythology.  Shortly after he casts out Lucifer for expressing free will, he somewhat paradoxically sets about creating man – his self proclaimed greatest creation – with the power of free will.  He then quickly becomes frustrated that his creations exercise their free will and goes on an “extended vacation” leaving Gabriel in charge.  The Mysteries incarnation of God the Almighty, is less the merciful and patient Almighty and more a petulant child, angry that his toys don’t work the way he wants.

The next hour or so of the show revolves around the rivalry between Gabriel and a Milton inspired Lucifer (who both play and look the parts of angels with a wicked streak that is a delight to watch).  On paper you could say they share the role of central character, but on the stage, Lucifer – always a juicy character in Abrahamic traditions – out shines all.

But it is all fleeting.

Somewhere around the beginning of Moses and Egypt the show abruptly leaps forward to the Immaculate Conception.

It isn’t long before Jesus (Colin Waitt) is front and center and we are in the full Gospel swing of things.  Gabriel still maintains a presence throughout the rest of the show but after the Temptation in the Desert, Lucifer is once again cast off, this time to window dressing.  Needless to say, right around the halfway mark it becomes Jesus’ show for the duration.

From there things really start to get wild.  The show picks out a few gospels, mixes it with apocrypha (See: Gospel of Judas), and some exercises in free love that theater folk love so well (Jesus is into open relationships, and three-ways), before getting to the Passion.  Then the show begins to take even more liberties with its sources.  It never drags but it does run on a bit, seemingly unable to find a proper place to end before finally culminating with the aforementioned Sermon of the Senses.

For the most part it is all very entertaining and thought provoking.  Many more scenes work than do not and most of the ones that don’t get points for trying (though a few lose points for trying too hard).  Perseverance through hardship, belief in the human spirit, community, intimacy, and love for all God’s creations, all worth while themes explored throughout the show.

But what the hell happened to that Lucifer v. Gabriel thing?

Gabriel leading a choir of angels.

Did Gabriel win?  If so, she forgot her victory dance.  And it doesn’t help that one of the lasting images from the tail end of the show was the Virgin Mary flippin’ God’s #1 angel the bird (Yep, you read that right).

Did Lucifer win?  Hard to see how, she was virtually non-existent in the last hour and ½ of the show (and, once again, no victory dance).  It seemed like Lucifer gave up some time in act two, content to simply sulk in the background for the remainder of the night.

As fun and creative as the telling of Jesus and his disciples was it was disappointing to see such a grand original idea dropped for things more familiar.

Even the reappearance of God at the end of the show didn’t’ provide much closure.  “Box it up.”  He repeated over and over again despite mild protest from a few of the other central figures from the evening.  That’s all we get, God coming back from a nap at the other end of the universe just to throw everything in the garbage?  “Oh well, I tried… sort of.”  Though the scene did supply a few good laughs, I would have traded them in for a more fulfilling resolution.  With so much in the build up, it was a rather anti-climactic rapture.

 The Baptism of Jesus

All of this may give off the impression that I have a bone to pick with The Mysteries.  That is not the case.  The show scarcely had a dull moment and most of these blemishes only begin to swell once a time has been spent looking for them.  Where the story falters, the cast is nearly always able to carry it.  When a show with the length, weight, and ambition of The Mysteries comes a long, just keeping it interesting can be a task nearly insurmountable.  The Mysteries achieves that easily and much more before it is done.  There was only one true issue I took with the show that I believe damaged my experience.

The many writers involved with The Mysteries are hardly the first people to ever try to use sex and nudity to subvert religious material.  It’s an idea (tactic) used so often it is virtually commonplace, particularly in New York theater, and I have no problem with it whatsoever, as long as it contributes to the story or characters.  Some scenes in Mysteries use sex and nudity as tool, some scenes do not, there were simply too many of the latter. 

Some moments simply came off as perplexing.  A threesome between Gabriel, Jesus, and Judas as a stand in for the prayer in Gethsemane comes so far out of left field, even upon reflection it is difficult to make sense of it.  Why did Gabriel want to have sex with Jesus, exactly?  To make up for the fact he was about to die?  What was Judas doing there at all?

Indeed, Judas’ character was one of the biggest missteps for the show.  Having the role of Jesus’ lover (along with Mary) he is Jesus’ closest confidant and the one chosen by Jesus to succeed him on Earth, yet, after Judas' death, little time is spent dwelling on him and it seems every other disciple was actually more important than him to Jesus anyway. The whole love affair might have been better left out as it felt a predictable and lazy way to subvert gospel traditions. But if it couldn't be avoided, a cleaner route to go may have been that of an unrequited lover, who when rejected, acts out of bitterness.  It at least would have allowed them to tie things off a little better.

Still, that was not bad as one or two moments of the show when the nudity offered little more than shock value.  One scene, late in the evening, portraying a roman guard urinating on the Virgin Mary was particularly unnecessary.  Not so much because of how awful it was to see, but because it served no purpose beyond looking awful.  It was already established in the scene, quite graphically, that the roman guards were vicious and sadistic.  It was something simply there to make people squirm in their seats.

The worst part about it wasn’t even how gratuitous it was, it was how it cheapened other moments in the show that contained nudity or sex.  It doesn’t take much to turn a powerful story telling tool into a cheap gimmick.

Not long after the scene with the roman soldier, we’re given another scene with nudity.  This one centers on Jesus accepting his death and role as Mankind’s savior.  The scene was tremendously well written, and played with masterful delicacy by Colin Waitt and Karsten Otto (as Joseph), but when I saw Jesus begin stripping of his clothes it was all I could do not to role my eyes.  It was meant to be a beautiful moment of vulnerability and acceptance, and yet the first thing that went through my head was “Here we go, another acting taking off their clothes.” 

Call me repressed but I felt cheated out of that moment by the night’s earlier frivolities.

When the lights came up for the final time after an evening at The Mysteries I had a lot of feelings.  Some powerful moments, many excellent performances and fantastic use of live music to be sure.  I may not have been sure if I had seen something that was great, but I at the very least needed to ask the question.  Now, some days later, I may be more certain that "greatness" had not been achieved.  But I also know that what I experienced is still with me.  Those feelings still ruminating, asking questions, provoking ideas, sparking creation, and that is well worth an evening in the dark.

The Beauty of a Busted Bracket

One Game.

That’s how long it took before I was out of the running for Warren Buffett’s Billion Dollar Bracket Challenge.  It all seemed so possible at first.  My first two upset picks, Harvard and Pittsburgh, were well on their way to making me feel like a genius and Oregon and Syracuse were dispatching their competition with savage efficiency.  All I needed was for Ohio State to get it together and take care of this silly little team from Dayton. 

But they didn’t take care of that silly little team and with one game in the books my bracket was 0 and 1 in picks and my chances at a billion dollars evaporated as if it had never been.

In reality, it might as well have never been.  The college game has become less and less predictable as potentially great college players cut their careers shorter and shorter in favor of the NBA.  The most generous estimates on the odds of actually picking a perfect bracket in the lead up to the tournament were somewhere in the range of 7.4 billion to 1.

With the best players going one and done, every team is suseptible to the "improbable" upset.

That of course didn’t stop me from dreaming up what my life would be like if I suddenly was getting an extra 40 million dollars of Warren Buffett’s money every year (The prize money was set to be paid out in 40 million per year increments).  If I’d somehow be able to go on living my life in Brooklyn and whether or not I’d have to get a bodyguard in the wake of the frenzy of becoming the “luckiest man alive”.  How much of the money I should donate to charity annually to constitute being a philanthropist or, at the very least, a decent human being. 

It was absurd how much time I put into that bracket.  Reading everything I could find about possible upsets and likely winners.  Making picks, going back, changing picks, fully aware I was completely wasting my time.  It was all a ridiculous pipe dream, of course, but one that was too much fun not to consider the possibility.

That is what March Madness is all about, after all: pipe dreams and possibilities.  Despite the hordes of screaming fans, very few people have vested interest in any school’s success in the tournament beyond picking them in their bracket.  My own school, Providence, did manage their first tourney appearance in a decade but their time was but short as they exited after a close defeat to UNC in the first round.  Long dead are the days of UCLA dynasties and Phi Slamma Jamma juggernaut teams, the big money of the NBA has seen to that.  If anything, disdain for NCAA basketball is at an all time high as corruption seems to seep through every crevice and whole conferences cannibalize themselves in a frenzied cash grab.  But fans keep coming back every March, and they don’t need Warren Buffett to put up a billion dollars to do it.  All they need are pipe dreams, and just the slightest possibility that they could come true.

It only takes a minute to fill out a bracket.  No matter how little you know or care about the college game.  No matter how much the quality play has dropped off over the years or how “tainted” big money makes it, how imperfect the system is for finding the best team, the bracket is just too good to pass up.

Breakout players like Sabazz Napier give us a reason to keep watching after the bracket are long forgotten.

Even when it all inevitably falls apart, we’ve gained so much appreciation for what we’ve seen we can’t look away.  That is the real value of the bracket.  We play for the dream of greatness for ourselves and we watch for the dream of greatness for others.

When it is all done, we count the days until next year and the possibilities are endless once again.