A quarter-century after stunning the theater world, one of the greatest theatrical journeys of our time returns to Broadway in an acclaimed new production from the National Theatre. As politically incendiary as any play in the American canon, Angels in America also manages to be, at turns, hilariously irreverent and heartbreakingly humane. It is also astonishingly relevant, speaking every bit as urgently to our anxious times as it did when it first premiered. Tackling Reaganism, McCarthyism, immigration, religion, climate change, and AIDS against the backdrop of New York City in the mid-1980's, no contemporary drama has succeeded so indisputably with so ambitious a scope.
I've written more than once in this space about the flaws of "Angels." It's too long, too sentimental, too inclined to demonize at the expense of comprehension, too rigid in its Marx-flavored politics ("Angels" would be a richer play if Mr. Kushner had had the wit, not to mention the honesty, to portray Ethel Rosenberg as shamelessly guilty). Yet all these things notwithstanding, it remains a fixed star in the firmament of American drama, a testament to Mr. Kushner's willingness to take huge chances instead of playing it safe, and I expect it will continue to hold the stage, both for its genuinely visionary moments and for the character of Cohn, one of the 20th century's great stage villains. Mike Nichols's 2003 TV version was also highly impressive and largely successful, but "Angels" works best in the theater, and if you've never seen it there, this revival, imperfect though it is, will show you much of what you've been missing.
This is a bit like taking coals to Newcastle - the equivalent of an American company bringing a David Hare state-of-the-nation play to the West End - but this is a production of Broadway-style scale and ambition. "Very Steven Spielberg!", says a dying young man at the end of the first part, as an angel arrives in his dreams.
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