Julia Roberts Fails to Impress Broadway Critics

There is nothing in acting that compares to the challenge of a live performance. For that reason, this journal has always distinguished between movie stars and actors. The former get as many chances as they need to get the line right (and still some don’t), while the former need to be perfect even on matinee Wednesday. Julia Roberts’ Broadway debut earlier this week has the critics putting her firmly in the “movie star” category.

Of course, part of the problem is the inherent choice that those in acting in the US must make about geography. New York is where one must live to perform live (regional theatre being adequate in many places but never a final destination one selects). Hollywood is where the TV and movie people live (despite some filming that gets done elsewhere). Compare this to Britain where one can live in London and tape a TV series, perform in the theatre for a six month run, and then shoot a film on location and sleep every night in one’s own bed. Fewer British actors have to make the same choice (although often they must choose between the UK and Hollywood for films with really fat paychecks).

Another part of the problem is the celebrity idolatry that pervades American society. In ancient Rome, actors and other performers were slaves, or at most, freedmen of low repute. While one might cheer them in the arena or theatre, having them to dinner just wasn’t the done thing until the Empire killed the Republic. In modern America, just the opposite is the case. The result is a theatre-going experience that turns into a celebrity hunt, complete with paparazzi. So, “Three Days of Rain” by Richard Greenberg opened on Wednesday at the Jacobs Theatre, and in the house were: Tim Robbins, Susan Sarandon, Mayor Bloomberg, Marcia Gay Harden, James Gandolfini and Oprah Winfrey. It was an “event” not a performance, and that is not Ms. Roberts’ fault.

Her performance, though, was her responsibility. Ben Brantley of the New York Times, who claims to be a fan, wrote, “She's stiff with self-consciousness (especially in the first act), only glancingly acquainted with the two characters she plays and so deeply, disturbingly beautiful that you don't want to let her out of your sight.” He also wrote, “Your heart goes out to her when she makes her entrance in the first act and freezes with the unyielding stiffness of an industrial lamppost.” The Boston Globe’s review put it more harshly, “One hundred and fifty minutes of tedium. Roberts, a cinematic ball of fire, wanders around the stage in the first act as if she’s looking for the Prozac.” Despite the headline “Pretty Woman pretty flat,” the Toronto Star was kinder, “For the record, Roberts does not deliver a train wreck of a performance . . . [however] Her face, so luminous on screen, barely registers onstage.”

Ms. Roberts is contracted for eight shows a week for the next 12 weeks. In that time, it is certain she will improve; practice always helps. However, one cannot help but recall what Lord Olivier said, “My stage successes have provided me with the greatest moments outside myself, my film successes the best moments, professionally, within myself.” Perhaps that explains the self-absorbed nature of Hollywood. All that said, Ms. Roberts deserves credit for simply trying live theatre, where few movie stars dare to tread.



© Copyright 2006 by The Kensington Review, Jeff Myhre, PhD, Editor. No part of this publication may be reproduced without written consent. Produced using Fedora Linux.

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