The Waltz Invention
“Well, I don’t,” Nabokov responds soberly. “And this too is the tragedy of tragedy.”
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Alas, few theaters have the nerve to take Nabokov’s words to heart, to take risks–box office be damned–and embrace innovation. Practically every company in town, from the esteemed Steppenwolf to the fledgling troupes renting space for $50 in the basement of O Bar, seems to prize commercial over artistic success; the result is a stream of productions loaded with talent but devoid of originality, ambition, and imagination. But I’ve got news: I have no interest in seeing the best possible revival of The Man Who Came to Dinner. Cast Golda Meir and Nastassia Kinski as the Pigeon sisters, and you’d still have trouble getting me off the couch to see The Odd Couple. Above all, theater should be about subverting or surpassing expectations, not meeting them. And if that seems too naive or idealistic a goal, I wish you an eternity of lavish revivals of The Glass Menagerie and Bleacher Bums.
Though Nabokov’s three-act begins as a somewhat long-winded satire mocking the stupidity of bureaucrats and military men, it soon spirals into a grotesque Marx Brothers fever dream. When Waltz waltzes into the war room, he encounters a menagerie of humpbacked, mumbling, stumbling, pop-eyed lunatics who make Snow White’s seven dwarfs look like ordinary, well-adjusted citizens. Controlling the country’s destiny are the myopic, guffawing General Bump, the mincing General Rump, the doodling General Dump, the gregarious General Gump, as well as generals Mump, Hump, Stump, Lump, two puppets, and the offstage president. As the second act draws to a close, with newly instated leader Waltz tumbling in and out of a dreamworld and promising the defense department peace and harmony through mass destruction, the play promises an insanely unpredictable conclusion.
But theater shouldn’t be measured only by its success. When a company like Strawdog is striving for a heady, exhilarating comedy with social, literary, intellectual, and entertainment value, I’ll gladly sit through a few dull patches and mediocre performances. It’s better than Les Miz–which I hear is returning to town, after a very short absence.
