the ocean

We saw Gloria this past Thursday at the Goodman. If you're planning to see it, stop reading now, because there are definitely going to be some spoilers. Also maybe think about going to see a nice Neil Simon play instead; they're much easier on the nerves.

I'll admit I didn't do any advance preparation for my Gloria journey. Generally I enjoy the surprises that theater brings, and I do much of my serious reading about shows in the program during intermission while I'm waiting endlessly to pee. And maybe I should have been more serious about the warning that "gunshot effects" would be used during the show. I kind of figured that would just be the sound of gunfire offstage like, in a war or something. But no. The first act of Gloria ends with a mass shooting at an office, as in you actually see three people getting shot. You know, just like in Eugene O'Neill.

I'm not great with violence. I have watched entire sequences of The Wire from the kitchen. But this one really fucked with me. I fully considered leaving before the second act, only to sit for another forty-five minutes in tense silence as the surviving characters attempted to cash in on their experience. Because the media is exploitative, you see. And people will do anything to make buck. But given that I can think of several distinct episodes of Murder, She Wrote that put these points across more efficiently and without showing an intern taking two to the chest, I didn't exactly have the best time.

I am fully willing to assume that this one is just me. The reviews have generally been strong, I think. But to me, making exploitation one of the themes of your play doesn't make the act of depicting mass murder on stage and less exploitative. So we came home and watched Top Chef as a palate cleanse. When Padma Lakshmi seems calm and pleasant, you know you're in trouble.