John Lennon was rather prickly with a lot of people and Picasso was pretty shitty to a lot of women, but I can still enjoy most of their art. Bill Cosby, not so much.
This is one of the extremely thought-provoking issues presented by Giant, led by a towering performance by John Lithgow. As Roald Dahl, the most read children’s author in history, Lithgow presides over a single afternoon on 1983 that if not overshadowing his amazing biography, it certainly defined him for many people.
The play will go long distance to bring into razor sharp focus the question of separating the art from the artist.
Barely mentioned in the play, but Dahl had an incredible life before he gained widespread fame as the author of James and the Giant Peach, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and several other icons of children’s literature. After fumbling through a fairly successful career as a fighter pilot, Dahl was ushered into the role of spy. His colleagues, Ian Fleming and Noel Coward each went on to impressive literary fame that Dahl could not initially attain. But as a spy, the dashing young Dahl soon found himself mixing martinis over lunch with FDR. Stints later as an oil company executive and as the unlikely inventor of a medical device that would end up saving hundreds of thousands of patients, Dahl relentlessly endeavored to become a literary master.
When his writings for adults failed to garner any traction, he pivoted and turned much of their darkness into stories directed at a younger set. Failing to find a buying public in the US, his publisher eventually found Dahl untold success in the UK and then globally thereafter.
A marriage to the gorgeous actress Patricia O’Neill preceded the events portrayed in Giant.
Against the foregoing backdrop, the play becomes even more compelling. With only brief references to O’Neill and the medical device (and little mention of his pivotal role as a spy for England), we see Dahl’s fiancé and two representatives from his publisher trying to deal with an explosive book review Dahl published, in which he decried Israel‘s attack on Lebanon in the 1980s. The potential backlash was likely to deleteriously affect the forthcoming publication of his next children’s book, and the publisher’s representatives are hoping to persuade Dahl to issue some sort of clarifying statement to soften the blow.
The Dahl house in the British countryside is undergoing renovation, which causes extra for frisson as the story unfolds. The incredibly prickly Dahl is sharp with his rejoinders and does a fairly persuasive job of pointing out that criticism of Israel’s political elite is warranted. Only by Dahl jousting with the junior publishing executive does the audience begin to appreciate that Dahl has conflated his disapproval with Israel’a political elite and derision of an entire race.
It becomes evident that Dahl has an abiding love of children but that is jarring juxtaposed by his violent antisemitic positions.
Lithgow is impeccable in the role. No stranger to towering performances on screen and stage, his natural stature (apparently spot on in recreating the author‘s physical presence) coupled with an astute sense of timing, make for a riveting performance. His brilliant role in Giant at age 81 stands atop a staggering biography: seven Emmy Awards, two Golden Globe Awards, a Laurence Olivier Award and two Tony Awards, as well as nominations for two Academy Awards, a British Academy Film Award, four Grammy Awards, and four Screen Actors Guild Awards.
As the British afternoon’s banter becomes ever sharper, the audience seems to be holding its collective breath as the next verbal volley is served.
Blank as Dahl’s fiancé is marvelous, expressing an obvious love of her future husband. Her mien becomes more grimacing as his more distasteful aspects bubble to the surface. We are not quite sure on what side she comes down regarding charges of antisemitism, but the two publishing executives, each of whom are Jewish, are pushed directly into more uncomfortable positions.
The more junior executive seems to be weak willed, but impressively shows a sturdy spine in going toe to toe with the esteemed author many decades older.
This is a play that elicits an amazing amount of discussion long after the final curtain falls. Indeed, Lithgow apparently enjoys his long walk home after each performance, not because of its distance (which is not very far) but because of the time it takes after being stopped by folks wanting to discuss the play.
Tickets and more information here.
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