Audience Response: Me, Myself & I
Posted by Adam Immerwahr on February 13th, 2008Are you one of the 14,750 people who have seen Me, Myself & I? What did you think? Do you agree with the newspaper reviews, or disagree? Favorite parts of the show? Things that weren’t to your taste? Post a “citizen response” or read what other people are saying by clicking on the “comments” link below. We can’t wait to hear what you think!
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Posted by Adam Immerwahr, Producing Associate at McCarter Theatre.
4 Responses to “Audience Response: Me, Myself & I”
February 13th, 2008 at 11:50 am
It’s been twenty-four hours since I returned from my first experience of Me, Myself & I. I don’t buy the reviews I’ve read so far – that it’s all fun and (word) games. I can’t help but try to divine meaning, but it wasn’t until The Happy Ending that a sort of explanation began to take shape in my head.
When the sign descended and the flashy, phony cowboy rode in on his chariot, I sat up and thought: My god, is that Ronald Reagan? The birth of the twins was 28 years ago…1980… Reagan. And The Mother (the United States?) has been in bed (with a shrink) since then? Is this a metaphor for a type of national paralysis? The Mother(land) has been fumbling around for her “true” identity since the father took off. Are we waiting for a political hero to save us from our own worst selves?
The Mother insists upon an absurd equality for her sons – they get the same name, she nurses them at the same time, she insists they were born simultaneously. It’s the worst kind of mothering, this one-size-fits-all-no-child-left-behind mentality. And she’s intolerant, racist, lazy, controlling and stupid – all from the comfort of her bed with the grumbling corporate-medical-pharmaceutical establishment that essentially plays along with her self-absorption. Doctor is unloved and can see clearly, but what does he do with this clarity? Jack. He’s ineffective & emasculated, put in his place over and over again.
When The Man rides in at The Happy Ending with harnessed black panthers (subjugation of African Americans?) and emeralds (longing for The Emerald City?), The Mother harps on the past and quickly chases The Man – and any hope of a happy ending – into the proverbial sunset. The Happy Ending was a myth anyway, but who knows? We might be wishing desperately for someone to swoop in and save us now, someone to make wild promises, someone we can’t forget.
What did the Reagan era really usher in? It became acceptable to not care about the poor, the homeless, those dying of AIDS. Self-absorption, malaise and complacency followed, and they have done us in, morally and economically. Maybe OTTO is right; who wouldn’t want to be Chinese? They have the world by the tail and all that potential in front of them. Of course, OTTO can’t get there without a lot of money, which he doesn’t have because he’s basically bankrupt, all the way around.
In the meantime, we spend our days in bed, fretting over the promise of the past, lost in the minutiae of trying to sort out who the hell we are. We deny our brothers; we are no longer our brother’s keeper. We deny our evil side, the one that screws our better half and screws the innocent as well. How many are still blind to what we’ve done in the world these past seven years?
So what are we left with? Staring at ourselves in the mirror, more narcissism. Or perhaps that’s a turning point, a cool, honest assessment that compels us to ask: can we feel one another again? Can we be compassionate again? Can we reach out to our brother and really see him, feel him, hear him? God, I hope we can, but there’s so much to repair.
I enjoyed the references to theatrical conventions and to what we can and can’t say. I’m all in favor of precision without prevarication. We’ve become so careful with language and so deceitful – but not Maureen!
The cast is brilliant. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see the play sooner, because now I’m not sure I can get to it again before it closes. But I will try because I would love another go-round with it. I must admit that I didn’t laugh more than once or twice. Maybe I sense something rather grim – an expression of national existential angst? – behind the word play, beyond these individual characters. But what absolute joy in the experience, to be emotionally and intellectually charged, and for that I thank you.
Sue Repko
February 14th, 2008 at 12:52 pm
sue,
you are absolute;y brilliant! as a psychiatrist i must admit that my own scribblings after the play focused on the individuals and their intrapsychic worlds and the dualities of good and evil, loved and unloved and symbolic concepts related to twinships.
i wish that i had had your ability to look at this mesmerizing play with your socio-political eye.
bravo!, bravo! and KEEP ON WRITING!
best,
jen
February 15th, 2008 at 12:11 pm
Your dissection of ME, MYSELF and I is remarkable. Even if Albee never intended all the meanings you attribute to the play you make the experience of it even more rich for me. I loved the play on opening night. Emily Mann directed it so cogently. I thought Tyne and Brian were outstanding; they reminded me of old vaudevillians, no longer pertinent, confused about the present and unable to shuffle forward. A picture of many Americans today.
The play works on a number of levels and I think it will have a long life. Thanks for writing so well about this fine new work.
February 17th, 2008 at 11:42 am
Jen, all those dualities are crucial too. I just kind of skipped over them in my post, but without a doubt, they are working throughout the entire play at a whole other level. The writing is so rich; there’s so much to take in and think about. Jane, that’s a really interesting observation, and your use of the word “vaudevillian” seems apt. The actors really did a fine job of being perplexed about lots of things, while also repeatedly hearkening back to things they knew with more certainty and maybe took comfort in. I hadn’t ever thought of our culture as perhaps being one big herd of deer caught in the headlights, but that’s what your comments bring to mind.