When you have a play that expertly blends art, ego, and humor all while making a statement on the human condition, you have 'Critic's Choice.' Written by Ira Levin, the creative genius responsible for other popular works such as Rosemary’s Baby, this play first took the stage in 1960. Directed by Otto Preminger, it transcends time with its insightful yet comedic narrative of a critic’s life who must review a new play written by an unexpected playwright: his wife. It first graced Broadway, but its themes resonate universally.
Here's the setup: The play takes place in the hustle and bustle of New York City during a time when theater truly was the heartbeat of the city’s cultural scene. And what here makes the stage really electric is that it's both a tribute and a satire of the entertainment industry. Levin delves into the blurred lines between professional duties and personal relationships. Picture this, Parker Ballantine, the protagonist and theatre critic, is challenged like never before when tasked with critiquing a play penned by his own spouse, Angela.
The lines between personal and private lives are expertly dissected in the play. Hilariously but poignantly, Parker struggles with the concept of being honest in his critique while maintaining his marriage. This clash between professional integrity and personal affection is the spark that ignites endless humor and empathy. Levin artfully captures this struggle, offering a mélange of laugh-out-loud moments and silent reflection.
One could say 'Critic's Choice' taps into universal themes. Relationships are complex, and coupling that with professional duty introduces various shades of gray. The play sheds light on the tension between the subjective nature of art and the perceived objectivity expected of critics. Levin paints his characters with a brush that's both colorful and riddled with quiet undertones of contradiction.Plays like this reinforce the idea that art imitates life, and perhaps, life sometimes imitates art.
It would be easy to say that 'Critic's Choice' is merely a comedy about a critic's woes, yet that would undersell it. The layers of wit and romance cover a solid foundation of human vulnerability. Parker’s dilemma isn’t unique to critics or playwrights. It’s familiar to anyone who has ever had to give an honest opinion to someone they care deeply about. The conflict isn’t just Parker versus Angela; it’s a battle with himself.
For a generation that deals with the perpetual candidness of social media and the pressure to maintain personal relationships amid societal judgment, Parker's struggle is incredibly relatable. It taps into that part of us that fears honesty could destroy what we hold dear but knows honesty is owed—to ourselves and to those we love.
There are those who argue that critics tend to elevate or demolish artistic work based on biases or the weight of expectations rather than any objective metric. Parker serves both as a warning and an example of how entangled we are when we allow external pressures to dictate internal truths. Throughout the play, Levin nudges his audience to go beyond laughter to introspection. Are we performers in our own lives, seeking approval from the harshest critic within, or are we critics of our own performances, fearing too much truth will strip the facade away?
Of course, not everyone appreciates the level of meta-commentary that 'Critic's Choice' provides. Some see it as a lightweight handling of deeper issues, perhaps preferring works with heavier gravitas when it comes to dissecting interpersonal relationships. To them, Levin might appear to tiptoe rather than stride into the labyrinths of human connections. But others see the beauty in its subtlety, in how it allows humor to bridge sensitive terrains without the heaving weight of drama.
As a play that is both timeless and bound by the idiosyncrasies of its era, 'Critic's Choice' has much to offer. The snappy dialogue and relatable dilemmas may entice a younger audience looking for glimpses of their own life reflected through humor and warmth.
By the time the curtain falls, 'Critic's Choice' leaves one not wrapped in the throes of laughter, but with a resonant vibration—a nudge from Levin suggesting that maybe, just maybe, art and life mirror each other in ways we might not always recognize. This not only gives a generous splash of love to theater and its ecosystem but also summons a gentle urgency to keep questioning, keep reflecting, and keep laughing at the absurdity that is life.