All the Views Fit to Print? Charles Isherwood on Whither the Playwrights (Plus a P.S.)

Yesterday, Charles Isherwood, one of the two main theater critics at the New York Times, published an interesting essay about how it was time for playwrights who have abandoned the New York theater for TV to come back to the form they love, and write a play during the Writers Guild strike. Of course, one would have to be insane to disagree with this admirable exhortation, but, sadly, the source of the sentiments has - with all due respect - the merest hint of a credibility problem. I am able to say this without fear of it being written off as sour grapes, because generally he has been respectful of my work, even when critical. The same applies to Mr. Brantley, his fellow reviewer.

In his first paragraph, the following words stand out: "for all those writers lying on the couch in Hollywood perfecting their video-game scores, or weeding the backyards of their Laurel Canyon haciendas." He goes on to challenge them to name the author of a bit of dialogue from a certain classic American play. His supposition about what the writers are doing is faulty. They are on the picket lines. Many, who are currently unemployed, including a number of playwrights, are figuring out what to do about mortgages.

The line he challenges readers to identify is from Clifford Odet's play "Waiting for Lefty," a playwright he then writes off rather high-handedly as someone who became "hooked on the money " and who " continued to work in Hollywood for years, growing sour and self-disgusted."

In fact, Mr. Odets, far from being hooked on the money, had given so much of it away to the Group Theater, et al over the years, that he had very little choice but to turn to Hollywood. Particularly after he grew ever so slightly cold in the eyes of the fickle New York critics. He had children to bring up, and that cost money then as it does now. (Mr. Isherwood, whom I do not dislike at all , has, I note with a degree of idleness, no such obligations, as far as I know.) He goes on to suggest that making a living as TV writer is easy. This, I can assure him, is so laughable a notion, so entirely false, that I beg him to take my place for a week, when I am able to go back to Brothers & Sisters (where my skills as a playwright get in the way of the entire business, making me almost a joke to be kindly endured at ABC). I have never worked harder in my life than the two years spent getting Brothers & Sisters up and running.

And now to the slightly unpleasant part of this essay. Mr. Isherwood, as a critic, will never be noted for his generosity of spirit. He is not Harold Clurman. He tends to be waspish, dismissive, cool, and brittle - as a writer. He can be gratuitously insulting, and his reputation is marred by the general consensus that a good mind is not matched by a particularly big heart. There is a whiff of Grinch in his criticism. Mr. Brantley, more and more seems like a breathless writer of gossip and gush for fan mags, and his intelligence - which again is not in question - seems to fail when it comes down to the big picture. The Times critics present themselves as advocates for consumers, and not as advocates for the theater itself. Unlike Clurman, Ken Tynan, say, or even Frank Rich, who could be withering but always managed to let it be known that he was passionate for new voices, passionate for promise, and uncompromisingly rigorous, as he is as an op-ed writer on Sundays. Speaking of Sundays, the Times used to have a Sunday critic, but have dropped that, thereby handing a monopoly of opinion to Isherwood and Brantley.

I would submit that they do not necessarily add incentive to the already tendentious struggle that playwrights face in trying to make a life in the theater. Nor is that really their job. But there is a slight whiff of disconnection in Charles' essay.

I went to do my TV show so as to never have to worry about that problem again. I have never really worked on Broadway, and hopefully my income from TV (supplemented by whatever gains we make in the strike) will allow me to not look back, as soon as all my obligations are fulfilled. (Fuller disclosure - I owe ABC two new pilots.)

I have one new play in some sort of shape, and am working on another. My deployment under the palms has been temporary, because I am mindful of the agonies of Mr. Odets, and now I live, thank the lord, back in New York.

There are no other critics that matter in NY, other than those of the Times, and when Charles is gratuitously cutting and destructive, and when Brantley is gushy and woozy and adrift in a language derived from OK!, or Teen Beat, it is simply part of the climate now. There are very few playwrights I can think of who won't come back to NY because of the people who sway audiences by their pronouncements about their work.

As a critic, Isherwood is not without value, though many people are still scratching their heads over his almost Olympian celebration of an inscrutable monologue a few years ago at a Union Square theater. All things are connected. The regional theaters now live in a timorous queue, waiting for that which has been granted thumbs up in Gotham. Used to be much more likely that a playwright could go off to say, Seattle Rep for six months, and then come into Playwrights Horizons - now, you start at Playwrights, and if Charles or Ben doesn't respond favorably, the regional theaters do not, generally, come a-calling.

Not the critics' fault, but there it is.

Craig Wright, the creator of Dirty Sexy Money, who Isherwood mentions in his essay (he mentions me as well), is a playwright by nature, and so am I, stuck with it for life, no worries. But when the gentlemen who write for the New York Times pen this piece, which happens every seven years or so, like clockwork, wondering why so few playwrights are sticking around, it cannot be denied that they are part of the reason why. Fortitude depends on the writer. Stamina is up to the playwright too. Having a thick skin - essential.

But against aging and monochromatic audiences, subscribers who arrive bleary and distracted, and jaded New Yorkers- the serious young playwright could use less of what makes Mr. Isherwood a lesser critic than he could be: namely, coldness and a rather shocking lack of humility. It is a tough time to be a American playwright. Isherwood has, for instance, been critical of Richard Greenburg for being far too prolific, and has further, celebrated plays that last a mere 90 minutes, so one may go to dinner and be home in time for a ten PM TV show. This, I would suggest, is quite simply well-dressed urban Philistinism.

I suggest that the Times critics re-read Tynan, for instance, who was funny and could be ruthless, but was always on the side of the artist, and never innocently hid behind the pretense of being in the hire of the cultural wing of Consumer Reports. All things are connected, Charles (and Ben). Reading your essay yesterday, it occurred to me that you are suffering from that most modern of diseases - a soul-deep isolation, and a growing dislocation -- a place from which being a critic of the theater, is dangerous, given how communal the art is.

There is one last point I will make -- and it is about the Times itself. I believe that working there can be corrupting on some level, there is a safety in it, and a routine in it, and there is smugness too in the culture pages. Inoculate yourselves with sabbaticals. Maybe some time in Rome, or in LA, before coming back to the Grey Lady with a new understanding of some of the verities in the larger world.

PS - Friday. The heat within has died down somewhat, and I now regret the swipe at above mentioned monologue. Put it down to my ire at the timing of Charles' essay, in the midst of the strike -- and my lack of manners. I humbly apologize to the author of said monologue.
In THAT regard, I am an ass.

Comments

[Madelainy]

Bravo and well said. I too am disillusioned with the so called art of critique but for different reasons. As an actor, I have poured my heart and soul into creating a performance only to have some reviewer come and draw a big red line through it on opening night! I'm not afraid of criticism and I respect the right of any person to dislike a piece of writing or acting. But having morphed into comedy world where the laughs of the audience are an 'instant review', I find it more worthwhile and less ego-bruising than a 3 month run of a play or performance sliced and diced for column inches.

[bneveu]

Wow. Exactly. I'm a professional playwright who just had a kid and so then recently made the trek from Chicago to LA. I've had a hell of a time getting plays up in NY (feels like the theatres can perhaps hear a "questionable" review or two in their heads as they check out the scripts) and so the choice of playwriting in NY or playwriting and whatever else in LA seemed sorta clear. God knows if I could have made a strong living as a playwright, then I would have stayed in Chicago or moved to NY -- but the points you make define the situation. NY is tough and made tougher by fear and frustration, both by artist and and audience. But anyhow, I probably have more to write, but I really should go weed my video game hacienda.

[jonrobinbaitz]

Thanks - to those who wrote.
I am not proud of dragging in another playwright - even without naming him. Heat of the moment. I needed to chill and do a rewrite, but instead, like a shmuck, fired off, regardless. Playwrights have no business being crappy about anybody who manages to do this in New York (in particular, but anywhere..­.). Hard enough to contend with all the things I mention above, without having some smart-ass at HuffPo using you to make a point. However- I forgot that Charles also reviewed a show in the form of a dialogue between...­his 2 cats. That would have been funnier to discuss, and though I am sure Mr. I's cats are clever - I doubt that they can read. Perhaps they can write...?

[nycplaywright]

BRAVO! and also very brave. as a playwright who has been on the receiving end of one of isherwood's notorious smackdowns, i was incredibly heartened by what you wrote. since arriving at the times (and, to my mind, he wasn't this way when he reviewed for variety), he sets out to humiliate and embarrass when he dislikes a piece of work, not consider it on its own artistic merits, however faulty he finds them. and that makes it all about him. (remember the pan he wrote in the voice of a cat a couple of years back? show-offy much?)

he's bitchy, so i'll be bitchy too: this is a man whose one published work is a biography of porn star joey stefano.

this gawker story is priceless:

http://gawker.com/news/charles-isherwood/his-ass-was-his-fortune-the-early-days-of-times-critic-charles-isherwood-153824.php

[CallieKimball]

All I can think of is…

“Baby, please come back.”

“Chuck, I have a new life now, a life where I feel valued and appreciated, and where I can afford to buy unlimited quantities of Project (Red) tees.”

“You’re out of your element. You belong with me. This is just a phase.”

“No, Chuck, I just don’t think you Get Me. And therefore you don’t. Get. Me. I’m tired of pouring out my heart and soul only to have you piss all over it. In public.”

“Oh yeah, well..well­…you’re just doing it for the money. And you’re getting fat and ugly.”

“Well, Chuck, you’re not entirely wrong there. Because on those occasions when I don’t feel valued and appreciated, at least I have health insurance. And playwrights never claimed to be a pretty bunch.”

“It won’t last. You’ll be dumped for someone new and then you’ll come crying back to me.”

“And I suppose you’ll be there, ready to pick me apart?”

“There’ll always be ink for you in my pen, Baby.”

"Lucky me."

Bullies need victims. Hurrah for every playwright who manages to make a decent living writing in other media. We have to sell out to support our theatre habit--it certainly won't support us.

[GarnishKing]

So far, your review of Isherwood's essay, and of Isherwood himself, has received good notices only. There's no disputing, apparently, that you are a decent scribe, worthy of endless praise. However, I must take issue with the reverence you show both Frank Rich and Ken Tynan. They, like "Ishy" and every other working critic out there, are bought and paid for opinion-whores. Nothing more. Do not gush over any of these talentless hate-mongers. They are not worthy of your fluffing. You are a talented man. In the words of Salty Milkduds, "Recognize them as the enemy, or it's us against us."

[rmurf62]

As you mention in your thoughtfully brutal article, money has a lot to do with the general case of dry rot pervasive in New York theatre. The constant need to secure funding leads to timid creative thinking, which leads to spineless creative decisions, which leads to much of the predigested crap being produced today.

I've been reading Charles Ludlam's essays recently about the beginnings of the Ridiculous Theatre, and I've wondered how they would have fared starting out in 2007 New York. Would the Times even bother to give them a review? I doubt it.

[allatonce]

I would be curious if Mr. Isherwood reads this article - surely someone will mention it to him. Perhaps he will display, for the first time in his career, some actual intellectual curiousity, and read it. Quite frankly, Mr. Baitz is being kind. I have not been so lucky as to be the recipient of one of Mr. Isherwood's fatuous, implausible, mean-spirited, reductive and aggressively bitchy reviews, but many friends of mine have. He is, to be frank, not a critic. He is a reviewer. He has no actual notion what it means to be a playwright. And quite frankly, until he stops urinating all over the theater, he shouldn't recommend a biscuit to a irish setter.

In the end, Mr. Isherwood has more than a whiff of the Grinch. He is also ignorant and foolish, and smug and bitter.

[Aunt Shecky]

But now the stagehands are on strike as well.

[Rebeck]

HILARIOUS. your posting cheered me right up, Robbie. it has never been clear to me why they get so mad when we make a little money from the big old evil TV machine. would it be better for our craft if we jus sat around in crummy overpriced New York studios, worried about how we were going to pay the rent?

my experience has been it helps to have a little money in your pocket, when the New York Times whacks you on the head because of some utterly inane new rule they've come up with as an excuse to dismiss your play. Ben Brantley suddenly decides he likes David Mamet and uses his review of my play to express this fact? Oh brother. Maybe I should dip into my savings and go to Italy for a few days...

[guru75]

There are so many fine playwrights, young and old, whose work does not receive a production but ends up in "reading hell" where some fine actor friends read the play - and few if any producers come to see it. There is virtually no Broadway for new plays - other than British imports - and off-Broadway is often a club where membership is hard if not impossible to obtain. Any young playwright would be wise to work in Chicago or another city if he or she wants to see the work onstage. Mr. Isherwood should be encouraging the construction of new theatres and asking for more theatre producers who actually read the plays that are submitted. Yes, yes, we know that most producers work on a shoestring and are understaffed - like most regional theatres - but there is no excuse for a six month reading period - assuming that the play gets read in that time.

As an "established" writer I visited a regional theatre a few years ago where I was given the tour of the premises. The artistic director opened a door and there, on the floor, I saw a few hundred scripts yet to be read. It spoke volumes about the conditions of the playwright today. Most of us who write plays do so from love of the form, not from any misguided belief that it will provide a fortune, let alone a living. My own living was made in television after a career in the theatre. Asking TV writers to go to Broadway is a bit of arrant nonsense that only a smug theatre reviewer such as Isherwood would propose. The Times should be offering two reviews for each new play so that new work does not live or die on the judgment of an Isherwood or a Brantly. But that would mean that they actually respect the theatre as an art and not as a source of advertising revenue.

[HollandTaylor]

Inspiring, as usual, in your work, and your days. Thanks for bringing home the beacon.

[nemo1043]

FYI:

ten·den·tious also ten·den·cious (těn-děn'shəs) Pronunciation Key adj. Marked by a strong implicit point of view; partisan: a tendentious account of the recent elections.

[grappolo]

The rules of the game have to be broken and you realize this. Nothing should ever be the same forever. The brilliant Frank Rich understands and has the perfect forum for his talents at the moment. The cultural coverage at the Times misses the point over and over. I know this from inside and out. What matters? The work and workers that persevere. Today on Fifth Ave., all levels of the writing industry congregating in unison. The million dollar club and the out of work club. The writers and re-writers who hate each other. The smug, the desperate. But everyone came together for one reason-- a belief in change and fairness.
When the studios and the writers see themselves as one breating organism-- it may work. When the playwrights and the critics see the same thing, we will have an audience that embraces differing opinions for the right reason-- a living breathing experience from which we all benefit.
Go talk to Local One-- they really get it.

[Leontes33]

Hmmm...ver­y well put as always. A curious line. "where my skills as a playwright get in the way of the entire business, making me almost a joke to be kindly endured at ABC". Mamet on CBS. Sorkin back on Broadway..­. Craig Wright et al. Mamet seems to balance well his "Playwriting" and his Executive Producer title. Doesn't his new Play November open soon?