By Bill Marx

[Editor’s Note: I am speaking only for myself in this commentary, not for any others who are involved in producing the Climate Crisis Cabaret.]

Why did I help organize the Climate Crisis Cabaret? Because these are not normal times. And we need more theater like it.

But some in the Boston theater community don’t think business as usual needs to be interrupted. Or, they may think it, but aren’t willing to act because it will upset the status quo, undercut decorous social/economic arrangements. The fact is, normality itself is under threat today from both the dangers posed to democracy by the right and our inaction on mitigating the degradation of the environment. Our stages are largely ignoring these existential dangers. This neglect reflects a baffling indifference to the survival of the theater companies themselves as well as to the well-being of future generations. It also represents a retreat from theater’s responsibility to do more than supply entertainment or confirm accepted notions. For the Greeks, the stage had the civic responsibility to speak truth to (or at least dissent from) unjust power.

At the moment, an ascendant right is slicing and dicing our institutions, particularly those that deal with the climate crisis, as it marches toward what looks like an autocratic reign. This antidemocratic movement demands a strong public reaction from our theaters or, at the very least, incisive efforts to dramatize what’s at stake in the contest. What are our elemental values? Why do we hold them? What happens when we forsake them? The first tragedians would have promptly swung into poetic action. (Euripides would have loved Trump — one of his satyr comedies starred a giant, mindless priapic bull.)

Boston’s contingent of liberal theater makers are sleepwalking through the alarm bells. Are our stage artists and administrators hypnotized by the grind of the right’s buzz saw? Could it be that, deep down, the left is skeptical of the democratic values that are being trashed? Have our stage companies decided to “obey in advance”? It sure looks like it. Confronted with mounting evidence of political chaos, hometown stages are content to pump out reassuring theatrical product. Don’t worry, audiences, no choppy waters will interrupt your stage-bound carnival cruise. Pay no attention to sounds of reactionary turbulence outside your cabin. Lean back and relax, people, enjoy the diverting routine, wallow in the usual. The stage is a place where you can relax — the world may be turning topsy-turvy, but the footlights stay on an even keel. The truth is, history has shown that theater can thrive even when authoritarians are in control.

A recent, lengthy NYTimes article entitled “Why Does Every Play Seem Political Now?” sets out the current laissez-faire attitude among too many in the theater establishment. I sense a touch of fear in the question posed by the piece’s headline, as well as in the writer’s ideological balancing act (three mentions of “liberal,” four of “conservative”). The strategy is to reassure audiences (i.e., tourists) by domesticating political theater. Yes, we are told, there will be engaged theater aplenty in New York, but don’t be alarmed dear theatergoers. There’ll be no protest, no embarrassing calls for action, no Brechtian bite.

What are these political dramas hitting the Broadway barricades in search of? “[T]o find the frustrating, the bewildering, the nuanced and the human in our contemporary political landscape.” Oligarchy and kleptocracy are on the rise and authoritarianism is underfoot while democratic remedies are taking a beating. The response to the news? Commercial and comforting political drama, resistance via Hallmark Card. I won’t waste your time going over the history of political theater here and elsewhere; it is a rich chronicle filled with productions that provoked thought, anger, and raised a goddamn stink. My advice: an afternoon with AI or a visit to the library will place the puerility of the NYTimes in its proper context.

One point in the article speaks to why I helped organize the Climate Crisis Cabaret.

Breakneck speed is, in theater, not generally achievable. And at a time when many people feel we tumble over the edge of a new cliff every day, it’s almost impossible to imagine what a timely artistic response might look or sound like. Will it offer catharsis, or solidarity, or pushback, or hope or outrage? Or will it just feel like a hand to hold on to while in free fall?

Broadway’s high-priced productions require lengthy development and cater to broad audiences to recoup significant investments. Similarly, large regional theaters often prioritize the moderate, risk-averse preferences of universities and philanthropic donors. But the stage can do so much more than take its time to discreetly charm the bourgeoisie. Over the centuries, street theater (one of the earliest forms of stage performance) and low-budget cabarets have been whipped up quickly — by independent, ad hoc groups of performers — to meet the moment, often during times of social turmoil. Beyond hard work and imagination, the key is to bring together talented artists, musicians, and an audience.  These dynamic productions often raise indispensable questions the NYTimes piece leaves out, such as who do I work with to advance the cause?

Collaborative theater productions that addressed a political emergency or the need for systemic change were the inspiration for the Climate Crisis Cabaret (CCC), particularly the political amalgamations of Bertolt Brecht. That said, the final form the evening has taken — a lively mix of theater, comedy, song, and readings, prefaced by a lobby street fair of groups engaged in climate issues and followed by a post-show conversation among performers, scientists, and activists — owes more to the expansive practice of Erwin Piscator than it does to Brecht. The show intermingles compelling theater with solution-oriented activism, each form enriching the possibilities posed by the others.

Bread & Puppet Theater skit about global warming. Photo: Elliot Stoller

One of the aims of the CCC is to inspire community action and encourage regional theaters to prioritize climate crisis programming The fact that the CCC sold out quickly (granted, it will take place in Arrow Street Arts studio) proves there is a hunger for stage productions that deal with a reality that we disregard at the peril of the planet and all who inhabit it. We have a respected history of activist performance groups in New England, from the Underground Railway Theater to Bread & Puppet Theatre, the latter celebrated for its circus-like extravaganzas staged on the streets and in parks. (Founded in 1963 by Peter Schumann, Bread & Puppet is one of America’s longest-running nonprofit political theater companies.) Theater artists (especially young people — it will be their future, after all) should build on that tradition and work with others (institutions, activists, citizens) to fight to preserve the future of the world’s environment. The next four years will be a time of turmoil — we need theater artists who will play a forceful role in supporting the health of the planet and strengthening democracy. The two are interlinked. From the beginning, I envisioned that this cabaret would serve as a model for a series of CCCs. (Go to this link to sign up to support future efforts.) My hope is that the evening will stimulate other local theatrical experiments, pointed productions that will tackle issues of elemental concern to the community.”

The moment demands grassroots theater: a “bottom-up” approach to counter the dominant “top-down” system. This mirrors the shift away from mainstream media, with alternative voices emerging through independent podcasts and websites. In that spirit, here is a pragmatic suggestion: Boston theater companies could carry on their current course, but augment it by sponsoring (together?) troupes of actors/musicians who would go to rallies with prepared songs, skits, and polemical dramacules. At some of the protests I have attended, bands have played a very invigorating part. Why not organize a cadre of local performers to rabble rouse for the cause? Outdoor acts whose mission is to nurture “good trouble”? Let’s hope the CCC inspires others to put together their own squads of theater performers who, when called on, can take to the streets or appear in theaters … maybe pop up in lobbies….

“What is critical consciousness at bottom if not an unstoppable predilection for alternatives?” wrote Edward Said. That challenging question has stuck in my mind. Given the degenerating state of our politics and culture, the old notion that the theater critic supports the stage by chugging along as a consumer guide, a mechanical rubber stamp, no longer makes much sense. In the past, some of the finest reviewers of the stage took an expansive view of their jobs — George Bernard Shaw, Kenneth Tynan, Eric Bentley, Richard Gilman — arguing that theater at its best offered powerful provocations to the contemporary world, berating companies for their cowardice and mediocrity, demanding productions that enriched the art of the theater, not the hocus pocus of marketing. They believed theater influenced the culture in significant ways, often by telling audiences what they didn’t want to hear.

But over the past year or so, I have concluded that the critic must do more than evaluate, render reasoned judgments that deepen the dialogue, as necessary as that is in an age of nonstop blurb-blather. The critic is also a citizen. If the theater is stuck in the same old same old at a time that demands hands-on engagement, it is not enough for a reviewer to simply plea for alternatives. Particularly at a time when major media is systematically eliminating substantial criticism of the arts, replacing it with docile diplomacy. Given that debilitating context, suggestions are insufficient. I felt compelled to act. The Climate Crisis Cabaret was born out of frustration, a drive to translate values into action and foster stage work that confronts the crises facing democracy and the environment. Boston’s theaters are falling short of their responsibility to the community — and to themselves.

Max Beerbohm stated that a critic is of the theater community rather than in it. With this production of CCC I am in the theater, and that raises issues about my continuing as a theater reviewer, especially for someone who for decades has accused other critics of conflicts of interest and of wearing too many hats. I intend to move forward with respectful caution, doing my best to refrain from critiquing productions with performers that I have worked with or pointing out possible conflicts. Maybe I will choose to critique shows that have no Boston connections. Be assured: I will be mindful of editorial malfeasance going forward and, if I slip, let me have it in the comments. Frankly, it will be a pleasure to hear from someone who is paying attention to what I believe are important issues — arts editors have become increasingly insensitive to short circuits in ethical or intellectual integrity.

Erika Soto as Hypatia Tarleton in the 2024 A Noise Within production of Misalliance.

The final reason for mounting the CCC — it is about time. I am getting on in years. I turned 71 last December. I am over the top of the hill and, hopefully, I will roll down the slope comfortably to the bottom. So far, no major medical problems. But I have been reviewing professional theater (and books) for over 40 years now — on radio, in print, and online. I have had my say and then some (and no doubt I will continue to sound off). But the time has come to take Hypatia’s demand in GBS’s 1910 comedy-drama Misalliance seriously — “to want to be an active verb.” The climate crisis transcends borders and it will only be alleviated through collective actions taken across individuals, communities, governments, and organizations. Of course, the theater, at its best, is nothing if not a miraculous exercise in collaboration, of determined people working face-to-face, blissfully free of electronic gizmos. We must draw on this unifying human force to reinforce communities of concern.

In his recent Arts Fuse commentary on our “New Age of Anxiety,” Jonathan Blumhofer wrote that “however late the hour and however long the road ahead, the cause of standing for justice, knowledge, and freedom isn’t yet doomed. Along the way, let the arts comfort, inspire, instruct, and help lead. That’s what they’re here for.” It is about time that our theaters shed their embarrassing complacency and actively joined the struggle — the hour is late, and the foes of the earth and democracy are moving fast and breaking things at record speed.

Bill Marx is the editor-in-chief of The Arts Fuse. For over four decades, he has written about arts and culture for print, broadcast, and online. He has regularly reviewed theater for National Public Radio Station WBUR and The Boston Globe. He created and edited WBUR Online Arts, a cultural webzine that in 2004 won an Online Journalism Award for Specialty Journalism. In 2007 he created The Arts Fuse, an online magazine dedicated to covering arts and culture in Boston and throughout New England.