It’s never fun to critique a critic. But sometimes, someone gets paid to do something and gets it so horribly wrong that one must call them to task. Such is the case with Marilyn Stasio’s article in Variety and Charles Isherwood’s article in the New York Times, both covering the off-Broadway musical Invisible Thread on December 2. I had the opportunity to see the production recently so when I read these reviews, I wondered if we had seen the same show.
Stasio begins by complaining that Invisible Thread is about Griffin Matthews, the protagonist. I’m truly at a
Marilyn Stasio, Variety
loss as to what Stasio expected. The story is about Griffin Matthews’ experience. His life. Written by and starring him. But she is confused about why the story is about Matthews. It’s like saying “write an autobiography… about someone else.”
Stasio next calls the show “loud.” Well, it’s a musical. So volume is to be expected. Perhaps she was not expecting the cheers and the singing along by the audience, adding to the beautiful voices of Melody Betts and others as they fill the Second Stage Theater and our hearts. The sounds of liberation are not whispered; they are bellowed.
In complaining about the musicality of…. the musical, Stasio says, “And let’s not even get into the incessant drumming.” One wonders if Stasio understands that drums were used in many African cultures to assist with storytelling, and were often used as a means of communication. This tradition continued when slaves were brought to this country. Drums reverberate throughout our music, so it seems fitting that they were a backdrop during the production.
While it is true that everyone views art through their own lens, one wonders how cloudy the lens of Stasio must be to find it appropriate to put the word African in quotation marks each time she uses it.
Stasio also insults the intelligence of nearly every single character in the show: “the only person with any kind of sense in this show is Jacob’s sister.” Perhaps Stasio missed that the majority of the characters are teenagers. One shouldn’t necessarily expect the maturity of someone Stasio’s age from them. Yet these “senseless” children are surviving as orphans on the streets of Uganda. Stasio should give them the credit that they deserve.
Stasio ends by remarking, “And you thought charity was supposed to be selfless.” This belies the problem that I have with “journalists” today. They don’t research; instead, they expect to have everything handed to them. In fact, Invisible Thread does just that, by updating us at the end of the show on the lives of the students that Griffin befriends and mentors. But a review of all of the work that Witness Uganda has done over the past decade, largely by way of donations and fundraising campaigns, surely is indicative of how selfless Griffin Matthews and Matt Gould have been.
The review by Charles Isherwood in the New York Times wasn’t much better. The title alone “In Invisible Thread, a gay New Yorker Goes to Uganda” says more about the critic than the show he critiques. If the title is indicative of what Isherwood thinks is the overwhelming theme of the show, perhaps taking a sabbatical and then coming back refreshed is in order.
Charles-Isherwood, NY Times
Isherwood states, “The fateful meeting with Griffin’s pastor, for example, is merely referred to, as is the cold shoulder Griffin gets from his fellow choir members, whom he considers his friends.” One wonders if Isherwood left the theater for a moment, because it is during the scene when Griffin is shunned by his church because of his homosexuality that Melody Betts’ brings down the house (the first time). This moment was pivotal and layered with the hypocrisy of too many Black churches when it comes to the sexual orientation of their worshippers. Having that context is key; perhaps Isherwood isn’t familiar but then, he should not speak of what he knows not.
Isherwood also complains about the dancing saying: “these sequences are not remotely integral to the plot.” But one of the great things about people of color, especially the youth, is that dancing can break out very organically without it being integral to much of anything. Further, it’s not as if singing was integral to the orphans learning how to read, yet it seemed to fit right in when it occurred. Again, this is a musical. Singing and dancing is to be expected.
Finally, Isherwood laments that “We never really enter fully into the lives of the Africans.” But it is Joy’s monologue that becomes the most gripping moment of the play, and is truly the lynchpin to all that we’ve learned about how so many struggled to survive in Uganda. Again, it feels as if Isherwood wasn’t listening at all.
What Isherwood and Stasio missed most, however, was the ebullient feeling with which theater patrons are left once the lights come up. The audience, those who aren’t being paid to find fault, is in love with this show. We have yet to see anything but enthusiastic praise from anyone who saw it with an open heart and mind. Perhaps critics should allow for the opportunity to interact with fellow patrons and feel the surge of emotion that wafts throughout the theater during Invisible Thread instead of, you know, just looking for things to… critique.
