East Harlem

Act 3 comes off like something I would wake up to at 4 am on Adult Swim. That being said, I can't tell if it's supposed to be completely meaningless, warbled garbage so far off and alienated from its source material that it's become nothing at all, or if this ending is actually a dark foreboding warning in the image of a known evil capitalist cartoon character literally overusing industry to the point of nothingness. Something about Maria and Quincy's argument in Act 2 tells me it may be both, but I honestly can't tell and don't know what to make of it.

I find the use of "might" in these stage directions so interesting. I think this is also the second time the playwright has done this so far. I like how her vision for this play is clear and the stage directions can be precise, but she still simultaneously leaves things up to the actors. I bet different nights of the same production could be different depending on whether or not Gibson does cry and how Sam touches him in response. That's so cool to me, even though it's kind of a small thing.

I feel like this is subtle word-play foreshadowing who's actually going to die and I just think that's neat.

I think this whole ordeal starting in the first place speaks to a deep lack of self-worth in Seymour. He barely has any problem at all with Audrey II needing his blood as long as he's the only one getting hurt. He's just happy to help the business out. Maybe had Mushnik been nicer to him, he would have more confidence in his ability to impress him, and none of this would have ever even happened. I think most people who value themselves more would have a lot more difficulty making this choice, and if Audrey II never asked for more, Seymour would have let the plant drink him to death.

I know Seymour and Audrey are both singing these lines kind of only because they're the leads and the love interests and they have to, but I also think it speaks to their individual characters specifically. They both declare that they would do anything they could to get out of Skid Row, and as we see, Seymour really means he would do ANYTHING. Even though they both want the same things (a better life somewhere nicer, to be with each other), had it been Audrey who discovered that Audrey II will only eat blood, I don't think she'd have gone nearly as far as Seymour does. Especially since she doesn't really seem like the kind of person who takes action to actually get the things she wants (or even needs). "Somewhere That's Green" is sung like it's a fantasy and an out-of-reach dream, but she herself says that the only thing that's stopping her from being with Seymour is herself, since she doesn't think she deserves him and won't break up with Orin even though she's miserable. I guess my point is that Seymour and Audrey both have similar roots and come from the same place (physically and emotionally), and I think ultimately what sculpts Seymour's character is his desperate need to please (to keep the shop open for Mushnik, to be a "botanical genius", to impress Audrey, etc.) and this drives what he DOES. Whereas Audrey has just as low self-esteem and needs the same validation, and this drives what she DOESN'T do.

I thought "satire" was an odd adjective to use in place of "parody" to describe Little Shop. It parodies science fiction and musical comedy etc., but when I think of satire I think of a work criticizing something in the world, not necessarily in art? Upon thinking about it more, though, I do think this show kind of satirizes American life, and the American dream in a way. The underlying moral of the story seems to be that the temptation to escape poverty is very strong, even if it involves violence, and to be wary of that temptation. We see in the real world capital being valued over human life all the time; a timid and basically nice guy becoming a murderer to feed a hungry plant in exchange for money and fame seems like an over-the-top allegory.

I don't think I'm supposed to but I can't help but read a transmasculinity into this character. I'm going to use she/they pronouns when talking about them since she refers to herself as she. When she said "My hips are too big / I dislike my genitals" all I could think of that line was that they were trans masc. I think what this character is experiencing is a lack of identity on all fronts. Their ideal self seems unreachable to her from her real self. She wants to be a person free from depression, but doesn't know how to be. Her mind is sick and she doesn't feel at home in her body. None of these things are inherently gender-related, but I can't help but read that into it as well, especially when she uses words like "dysphoria."

She says this a lot throughout the play, which I find really interesting considering she does kill herself. Maybe what she means by this is that she wants to learn how to live, but no one is properly teaching her how to. The meds don't work and the doctors aren't helping. Maybe she really doesn't want to die but ultimately comes to the conclusion that it is the only possible alternative since she just doesn't seem to be able to learn how to live, or how to coexist with her depression since she can't seem to cure it.

This line really stuck out to me because it's pretty much exactly what we've touched on in class. An argument against epic/political theatre is that theatre is meant to be escapist. I sympathize with the customers here, and I think people generally become exhausted when the waking world is a living nightmare and do need an escape from it every once in a while. Uncle Mu'nis leaves his reason for not satisfying their desire for a happy story open-ended, but I think it's because it would be vastly preferable to live in a real world that is peaceful, than to live vicariously in that world for a few hours during a play, and that world will not create itself.

I feel that in a lot of ways this play is about the audience, which I find very Brechtian. This play's cast is largely made up of audience (the customers listening to the story), and focuses a lot on their comments on the action that they are seeing. The actual audience of this play would be watching the customers in the café react to the play itself, and for me that blurs the line between the two audiences. I think this is done so that as we watch the customers comment and form opinions on the story, we are encouraged to do the same.

This seems to me like a direct question to the audience, which I think is the defining question of Brecht's work. When we learned about Brecht way back in the Intro to Theatre class, I remember this quote of his came up: "Art is not a mirror held up to reality, but a hammer with which to shape it." As I pointed out before, the dialogue is pretty unnatural, and there are many instances in this play that don't resemble real life. Characters burst into song, give soliloquies and asides, directly address the audience, explain things that are happening, etc. It is my understanding that this is because it is not Brecht's goal to create a realistic play, but to constantly remind the audience that what they are watching is theatre and to remind them throughout to think about what is happening and to form opinions about it.

Already in only the first line of the play the dialogue is distinctly Brechtian (at least, to my understanding of what "Brechtian" means). In these few sentences Galy Gay establishes his relationship to the person he is speaking to, and tells her things about him she already knows, because he is really introducing himself to the audience. If the dialogue were more natural-- if it wanted to imitate real life-- I don't feel like he would refer to his wife as "dear wife," but by her name, and he wouldn't need to tell her that he is a porter and list defining traits of his. This information is clearly for us, and it's already clear in the dialogue that Brecht is writing with the audience in mind, and that his method of storytelling is not necessarily prioritizing immersion.

Bruce "teaching" Alison how to draw here feels more like he's trying to dictate to her how she should live her life. Especially after the incident with the party dress, he may already suspect that she may be queer or otherwise different in a way he sees himself in ("You're wearing a girl color!"). I think in his own mind he's trying to protect her, but her inability to change and conform reminds him of his own identical inability and he can't stand it.

This is already indicative of Bruce and Helen's marriage. Bruce is a closeted gay man in 1970s suburbia. His obsession with the way his house looks and keeping up appearances reflects the way he manufactures his life for public consumption. Helen is not truly his partner, but just another tool for him to build a false image of himself. Once he finds what he needs, in this case the bronzing stick, he no longer needs her and immediately dismisses her without even a, "I've found it, thanks anyway!" You can already see here that he is entirely obsessed with the external, and is completely neglecting his internal life.

The word "nature" keeps coming up in this play, often referring to a latent animal nature in human beings. This line in particular calls back, for me, the animals dressed as people at the fair. The Showman made the point there that people are just animals who've donned human costumes. Woyzeck using clothes as an indicator of class brings up this imagery again, that "class" is just a costume given to some, but underneath it we are all still just animals. Woyzeck is treated poorly because of his lower-class status, and throughout the play the Doctor, the Captain, and Andres repress his nature and treat him as an animal rather than a man. It is the lower rungs of the social hierarchy that are more apparently "beasts" and treated as such. Marie, too, is referred to as a "she-beast" and a "she-wolf," (and is killed for that reason) and Woyzeck is referred to later as a beast not only for being poor but having been brought up by a woman.

It seems here, especially with the capital H in "He," that the captain is really confused by "God," or, at least, the rule based in religion he is trying to defend. Because Woyzeck actually makes sense here, the Captain does not know how to accept new information that contradicts his entire worldview, so he just rejects it entirely, especially since he's already deemed Woyzeck a moron.

Unless I'm missing something, plotwise, Kristin doesn't really need to be here for a lot of the play. There's a good chunk where she doesn't contribute any dialogue and is only there to sleep, which made me question why she was there at all. This bit, though, reminds me of the times in my real life where my dreams are just replays of my day at work. I feel like her sleeping on stage may actually be a sort of character exposition, as her being so exhausted and dreaming of work is indicative of her working-class status and juxtaposes her against Miss Julie.

I feel like maybe we are reminded of the audience here for a reason. A recurring idea that Miss Julie and Jean keep throwing around is about how people will talk about a woman from a higher class being with someone from a lower class. Jean in particular is pretty preoccupied with how Miss Julie acts, and how her behavior is contradictory to her status in that she behaves too common, and is constantly reminding her of other people and how she is seen. I could just be overanalyzing but I think it could be read here that Julie is perceiving these eyes on her now.