FUN HOME

I’ve spent a week since the opening night of Fun Home at the Ahmanson contemplating what to say about this popular Broadway musical. I know that, to be politically correct, one must say that they’re a fan, whether or not they really are. Judging by the wild enthusiasm of the crowd that night, just about everyone really does love it.

But, sadly, I did not. I didn’t dislike it, either. I basically felt…nothing. But, of course, I still have some things to say about it, including sharing two short personal stories that this show reminded me of while I was watching it. And, whenever an entertainment can make you hark back to something in your own experiences, that has got to be a good thing, right?

In case you’re unaware, Fun Home is a true coming-of-age story (a term I detest) about a girl who realizes she’s gay, when she’s in college. And that her father is, as well. (I was explaining it quickly to a pal, by saying, “It’s the gay musical.” And he shot back, “Isn’t that every Broadway musical?!” Ba-dum-bump.)

The best thing about the show, to me, is knowing that Mike Pence would get booed by it’s audience. I love shows that make the current regime uncomfortable, so I thank the creators of Fun Home for that.

But the title doesn’t give any clues to the content. It actually refers to that the main setting is a family’s house that is also the town funeral home. If I had just seen the title, and the colorful picture from the ads, I would have thought this is a fun show for kids. But I think it would be a weird one to bring children to, depending on their age; in my opinion, kids shouldn’t hear singing about any kind of sex. I believe in letting children remain absolutely innocent for as long as possible. The world gets difficult for them soon enough.

Fun Home is based on the graphic memoir by Alison Bechdel, whose biography is portrayed at three different stages of her life. As a story, I guess it’s somewhat educational. When Fun Home opened on Broadway, it was revolutionary, as the first musical with a lesbian at its core. Good on them. I’m happy for any group to get their own musical.  I mean it. I kept thinking that this must be what my people felt like when they first saw Fiddler On The Roof all those decades ago!

There are several things I did like about the show, even though, in general, it wasn’t my cup of tea. I love that the wardrobe of the three actresses who play Alison at different ages is all variations of the same color scheme. Cute touch. And the lighting is very good throughout, which I rarely ever think. Also, some of the lyrics are very clever.

And I did like the set, which even featured a room with a ceiling at one point. Think about it—when do you ever see a ceiling on a set?!

I also loved that the excellent band is on stage the whole time. Right from the top, they give the show that proper Broadway feel, which is always wonderful. But the music itself did less than nothing for me. There were no songs to come away singing, and the two big numbers, one with three kids dancing around the funeral home, and one where the young girl realizes she’s attracted to a woman, both sounded like other known songs, (like, in the case of the former, a Jackson 5 hit.) Nothing original there. I found the music to be pretty pat. (But that’s obviously just me—the show won five Tonys, including Best Musical and Best Score.)

High up in the positive column is a big number near the end, performed by Susan Moniz, as the mother, which I imagined would bring down the house. It should have, but perhaps the opening night audience was a tad strange. They went nuts over that Jackson 5-type number performed by the kids, (even though I could barely make-out one lyric they were singing,) and then there’s this woman up there, singing her guts out in the most difficult song of the whole show, and nary a peep out of them. I don’t get it.

For me, the performance of the show is given by Abby Corrigan as teenage Alison. Not only is she brave enough to prance around the set in grandma panties, (that note would have stopped me right there from even auditioning!,) but every word she hit was spot-on. She really added a much needed spark to the show.

One thing I didn’t understand was that, all of a sudden, grown-up Alison takes over for the teen-age one to sing the emotional song Telephone Wire, with the dad. I feel like they gave the actress the song as a way to make-up to her that she’s on stage the entire time, but basically in the background. There doesn’t seem to be a natural progression about the character change.

Okay, so, here’s my first personal story that goes along with the theme of when one realizes that he or she is gay: I have a young friend, whom I love so much, who’s now in his mid-20s. I’ve known him since he was born, literally, so I’ve seen a lot that has gone on in his life. When he was about 7-11, he was truly in love with a little girl across the street, who was about three years older than he was. I witnessed him being really painfully gaga over her for all those years. He’d ask me for tips of how to get her to love him back.

And then, when he was about 12-14, another little girl who had been in his elementary classes but was now in a different middle school, showed-up looking gorgeous, and he acted like an idiot to get her to like him again, as she had in younger years, when he had love for only his neighbor girl.

And by age 15, he was gay. I have never understood that. And even he can’t explain it. I was hoping this show would give me some insight into that process, but it didn’t really do that.

I think, in cases like this one for me, where one finds oneself to be not in love with a show, you just have to be grateful to be seeing such a Tony-award-winning show, and enjoy it as it lays, without hoping for the amazing experience you were brought to expect. The opportunity to see live theatre is always one to be appreciative of.

But the funeral home setting did give me a chuckle, thinking about my own sad little experience with one, which is my second personal story. I was a student teacher, and loved all my little kindergartners. Those kids came in for just half a day, so we had two sessions. One afternoon, the family of one of my absolute favorite morning kids, Kenny Bright, called the school, hysterical because they couldn’t find him. The ensuing search brought to light that the family was using his grandpa’s address, which was the local funeral home, so that Kenny could go to our school, but that’s not where he lived.

When he came in the next day, I asked him where he had been. He said, “I was hiding with the bodies.” Ewww. But he was fine with it. (I can still hear him saying it exactly, after all these years. Isn’t that something?)

And then, as we dismissed the class, the grown-up teacher, (remember, I was just a student one,) told the kids that that was Kenny’s last day with us, (because they were making him go to the correct area school.) I must have cried for two hours in a row. The rest of the teachers told me that I could not let myself get attached to the students, but good luck with that, honey! Have they met me???

So, maybe I have a thing against funeral homes, in general, for being responsible for taking away one of my students. Or maybe I just don’t like shows about fathers who are not fabulous to their children. Or perhaps granny panties make me a tad queasy.

Actually, all three are true. But even with all that being said, at an hour and forty minutes with no intermission, Fun Home is a theatre experience Angelenos should not miss. And, now that I gave you such low expectations, you’ll probably love it!

Fun Home running through April 1, 2017
Ahmanson Theatre  135 N. Grand Avenue  213-972-4400 www.centertheatregroup.org