In a time like no other in American history, and with a sense of urgency like never-before, Michael Moore comes to Broadway for the first time in an exhilarating, subversive one-man show guaranteed to take audiences on a ride through the United States of Insanity, explaining once and for all how the f*** we got here, and where best to dine before crossing with the Von Trapp family over the Canadian border.
Performed live each night just blocks from Trump Tower, The Terms of My Surrender will, like Moore's films, feature the wry, satirical humor of one of America's iconic political observers and all-around-shit-disturbers, a fearless Midwesterner not interested in taking any prisoners. Audiences are in for one surprise after another.
As the Bard once said, or nearly so: 'To thine own audience be true.' Michael Moore, that renowned, brashly-impudent political provocateur, knows his audience. He has always been keen at smelling fresh blood in the air, usually facing off against one Goliath or another; and he is known for ambushing his particular bogey man with lacerating skill and buoyant relish. Setting his sights on you-know-who-the nominal leader of our great land, presently in self-imposed exile from his abode twelve blocks up the avenue from the Belasco-Moore plucks his prey, like a pre-Thanksgiving turkey; stuffs a juicy crabapple in its mouth, like a Christmas suckling pig; and sets the roaster on slow burn.
'The Terms of My Surrender' makes vain gestures in the direction of a variety show. ('Dancing With the Stars,' a silly leitmotif, is both a nightmare and a tempting dream for this capped bear with two left feet.) But Moore isn't the secret vaudevillian no one ever suspected him of being. His comedy (he does a bit on the outlandish items the TSA forbids in carry-on luggage) is as galumphing as his cursory musical interludes.
| 2017 | Broadway |
Original Broadway Production Broadway |
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