This is part 3 of a series of reflections triggered by the musical, A Face in the Crowd, playing at the Young Vic Theatre. Less review and more a collection of thoughts that the show provoked in your faithful bee, this essay contemplates the narrative resolution, societal complicity, and the disquieting contrast between fiction and reality.
A Story of Rise and Fall: Introducing A Face in the Crowd
At the heart of A Face in the Crowd lies a tale that feels both timeless and unsettlingly relevant. Set in 1950s America, the Young Vic’s production follows the rise of Lonesome Rhodes, a charismatic, silver-tongued drifter whose unfiltered charm propels him from obscurity to national fame. Adapted by Sarah Ruhl with a lively, versatile score by Elvis Costello, the play charts Lonesome’s transformation from a charming local personality to a media mogul whose influence reaches all the way to the political stage. Yet, as his power grows, so too does his ego, and it is not long before the same traits that made him endearing become his downfall.
Ramin Karimloo’s portrayal of Lonesome was nothing short of electrifying, balancing charisma and menace with equal skill. His voice soared, filling the theatre with a raw, compelling energy that captivated the audience—so much so that the bee nearly forgot, at times, the darker undercurrents of his character. The production’s nostalgic, 1950s aesthetic only added to this sense of allure. With its bright colors, slick costumes, and infectious songs, it presented a world that felt inviting, even as it reminded the audience how easily charm can be used to mask manipulation.
Fiction’s Clean Endings vs. Reality’s Messy Continuity
The bee was struck by how neatly the play resolved Lonesome Rhodes’ narrative. His rise and fall followed a clear arc, giving the audience the satisfaction of watching a manipulative, ego-driven character receive his comeuppance. It was a moment of narrative justice, a chance for viewers to see that those who abuse their power will, in the end, be exposed and brought down. But as satisfying as it was, the bee couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discomfort, knowing how rarely real life offers such tidy resolutions.
In reality, figures like Lonesome Rhodes often evade the justice that fiction so eagerly provides. Instead of a swift and satisfying downfall, they tend to linger, navigating scandal after scandal, using each attack to reinforce their narrative as embattled champions of the “common folk.” Real-world populists, like Trump, have demonstrated an uncanny ability to turn criticism into fuel, spinning every new controversy into a story of persecution. For every revelation that should be a nail in the coffin, there is a counter-narrative, a deflection, or a new scandal that distracts and shifts the focus. The audience, far from turning away, often leans in closer, drawn by the drama.
The bee reflected on how A Face in the Crowd skillfully mirrors this dynamic through its staging. There are moments when the actors break the fourth wall, mingling with the audience, shaking hands, and making eye contact. It’s a reminder that the audience is not just watching a play; they are part of it. And this, perhaps, is the most poignant metaphor of all. In real life, there is no clear divide between performer and spectator. We are all participants in the spectacle, whether we like it or not. We amplify it with every click, every share, every moment of outrage.
The Production’s Sharpness: Immersive, Nostalgic, and Uncomfortably Real
The bee can’t praise enough the way this production created a sense of nostalgia, yet subtly undercut it with sharp social commentary. The 1950s setting, with its pastel tones and shiny new TV sets, felt almost whimsical—a time when television was still an exciting, new frontier. Yet this was also the beginning of something far more insidious: the realization that television, and by extension, media, could be wielded to shape opinions, sell ideas, and yes, even win elections. The immersive staging, where actors roamed the aisles and interacted with the audience, blurred the line between fiction and reality, making the experience feel immediate and, at times, unnervingly intimate.
The songs, composed by Elvis Costello, played a crucial role in building this world. They were catchy, toe-tapping numbers that drew from a range of American musical styles—country, gospel, blues, folk. Karimloo’s Lonesome crooned and belted with such passion that the bee found itself caught up in the moment, even as it was aware of the manipulative charm at work. Costello’s lyrics often carried a bite, using humor to soften the blow of darker truths. It was this interplay of the lighthearted and the serious that made the production so compelling. The audience was invited to enjoy the show, to laugh, to sing along, but always with the awareness that there was something more troubling beneath the surface.
The Contrast Between Marcia’s Reckoning and Reality’s Complexity
The bee found the play’s most poignant moment in Anoushka Lucas’s final monologue, where Marcia confronts the reality of her role in creating Lonesome Rhodes. She acknowledges her complicity, reflecting on how she was drawn in by his charm, how she enabled him, and how she let herself be blinded to the danger. It was a moment of clarity that felt powerful, but it also left the bee with a lingering sense of sadness. If only reality offered the same opportunity for reflection and reckoning.
In the real world, such moments of clarity are rare. The media, politicians, and even the public are often too entangled in the spectacle to step back and reflect. For many, it is easier to double down than to admit a mistake. And this is where the play’s narrative justice differs so sharply from the chaos of reality. Lonesome’s downfall in A Face in the Crowd is swift, definitive, and cathartic. But in the world beyond the stage, figures like him often survive scandal, finding ways to spin their own stories of victimhood and resistance, bolstered by the very attacks that should have been their undoing.
It’s a kind of tragic irony, and one that the bee felt deeply during the play. As much as Marcia’s final reckoning offered a sense of closure, it also underscored the rarity of such moments. In the real world, the spectacle continues, and the story doesn’t end when the curtain falls.
The Bee’s Emotional Reflections: Caught Between Laughter and Discomfort
Throughout the play, the bee found itself caught between laughter and a deeper, more unsettling feeling. There were moments that were genuinely funny—sharp, satirical jabs at the absurdities of American media and politics that drew hearty laughs from the audience. But for the bee, there was a kind of tragic humor at play. It was hard to laugh without feeling the weight of the reality it was reflecting. The humor didn’t just entertain; it stung.
This contrast—the lightness of the comedy against the darkness of its implications—added layers to the bee’s experience. There was something magical about sitting just a few feet away from the performers, feeling their passion, their energy. When Karimloo shook hands with audience members, it was thrilling, a reminder of the bee’s childlike wonder for the theatre. It brought back memories of standing in the pit at the Globe Theatre, feeling that same rush of excitement as Julius Caesar himself walked by, welcoming the audience to Rome.
But the thrill was tempered by the play’s message. A Face in the Crowd doesn’t let its audience off the hook. It pulls them in, makes them part of the spectacle, and then forces them to reflect on their role. The bee left the theatre with its wings buzzing, heart heavy with questions. Why do we let ourselves be seduced by charm and charisma? Why do we indulge in the spectacle, even when we know it can be dangerous? And most importantly, are we prepared to take a step back, to resist the pull, and to hold those who wield such power to account?
Conclusion: The Reality Behind the Performance
In the end, A Face in the Crowd is more than just a play about one man’s rise and fall. It’s a commentary on the nature of power, influence, and society’s willingness to be complicit. The bee could not help but reflect on how the play offered a kind of justice that reality often denies, a neat resolution that brought the story to a close. But as satisfying as it was, it served as a stark reminder that the world outside the theatre is far less forgiving, far messier.
The production’s immersive, nostalgic aesthetic invited the audience to lose themselves in a simpler, more innocent time, only to reveal the dark currents beneath. It was a performance that captured the bee’s heart, but also troubled its mind, forcing it to confront the uncomfortable truths about how easily charm can turn into manipulation, and how the spectacle can become a tool of control.
As the bee flitted out of the theatre, it was left with a sense of unease, but also with a renewed appreciation for the power of theatre to provoke, to challenge, and to hold up a mirror to the world. For in the end, A Face in the Crowd is not just about Lonesome Rhodes. It’s about the society that allows figures like him to thrive, and the role each of us plays in that story. And perhaps, if we can learn to see through the spectacle, to resist the easy pull of charisma, we might find a way to write a different ending.
Four stars!
Watched October 2024 at the Young Vic, London. This was Part 3 of a three part series. Here are Parts 1 and 2. A Face in the Crowd runs at the Young Vic through 9 November 2024.
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