Arscht Center, Miami
May 6, 2012
This
was my first time to see Lily Tomlin live. She did not disappoint. The thing
that struck me most is that this seventy-two year old woman moved with the
agility of an athlete. She walked all over the stage, she stood, she sat, she
kneeled, she jumped, reclined, she sat on the floor, she danced, she skipped,
and she never stopped talking. A few times she would drop to one knee and raise
her arms and bow her head in an exaggerated gesture to the audience (basically
claiming success for some zinger she delivered). For over ninety minutes she
performed at this pace, and the only sign of fatigue happened briefly when she
had to break character to get a drink of water; she covered for it by saying in
Edith Anne’s voice, “Forgive Lily; she’s old and can’t make saliva anymore.”
Otherwise, she was energetic, nimble, and indefatigable. That alone was an
inspiration.
The
show was pieced together from several fragments, like an energetic, performance
quilt. There was basic stand-up followed by some autobiographical narrative about
her childhood (giving the audience a glimpse of her provincial upbringing and
family life) followed by the resurrection of characters from her early days of
comedic entertainment. One flowed seamlessly into the next and even though she
brought characters from the past back to life she simultaneously updated them.
For example, Edith Anne now has an iPod and Ernestine no longer works for the
phone company but for an insurance company.
Tomlin
moved from one character to the next (and from characters to herself, though
even her “self” was obviously something of a stage persona) with no costume
changes, no special make-up, only a few lighting changes, and almost no props.
Her set was very simple, a living room set on stage right, open bare space
center stage, and some steps leading to “nowhere” on stage left. Behind the
living room set was a set of stairs that led to what was supposed to be Lily’s
teenage bedroom.
On
the back wall (upstage) there was a screen and on the screen short videos were
played; sometimes a vintage video from her earlier work, sometimes a new video
of one of her updated characters, sometimes a photograph of her family or of
herself as a child or teenager. After a minute or two of a video clip (or a
photo), she would launch right back into her live shtick, usually as a
continuation of whatever the screen had introduced. Some of her “iconic” monologues
were included while most of the performance was new material, or an update of
older work.
In
addition to comedy monologues, performed memoir, multi-media presentations, some
of her classical characters such as Edith Anne, Ernestine, Mrs. Beasley, the
Consumer Advocate, Tommy Velour (I love gender-bending performance!), and bits
from The Search for Signs of Intelligent
Life in the Universe, Tomlin also included at the end of her show a
question and answer time. Before the show people could write questions on cards
and at the end of the show she would read and answer some of them. The final
question she read and answered was MINE. I have now been part of a Lily Tomlin
performance! (So where’s my royalty check and name in the Playbill?). It was
actually a personal thrill.
I
was afraid my question was frivolous, silly, certainly “queer”, but she seemed
to enjoy talking about it. Not only did she choose to read and answer it, but
it may have been the longest time she spent on a question and it was the
question that closed the show.
My
question was what was it like to work with Dame Judi Dench, Dame Maggie Smith,
and Lady Joan Plowright in Tea With
Mussolini. Others had asked about her work in Nine to Five, her political views, etc., but she seemed to love
having the chance to talk about working with deities of the British theatrical
pantheon. She delighted in sharing how Dench and Smith are chain smokers who
can’t stop smoking long enough to eat even. She mentioned how the English
actors were polite to her (and to Cher, another American in the film), but how
they were usually pretty cliquish among themselves. She mentioned Judi Dench’s
fair complexion and how she was so taken with the English acting giants that
she would walk around with an umbrella trying to shield Dame Judi from the Mediterranean
sun. And she laughed that when one of the three members of the British acting
triumvirate was unavailable for dinner, that she would be honored to be invited
to substitute for the missing person. So if Lady Joan was absent, she might get
to have dinner with the chain smoking Smith and Dench, and so on.
True
stories, improvisation, skits and sketches in character, multi-media
presentations, movement that would exhaust someone half her age, and even a
chance to include the audience in the actual performance all made for a
delightful evening of entertainment. And, more importantly, gave me many ideas
of what to include and how to shape future performances of my own.
