1st person: I reviewed a play for class. The cast reviewed me back

By Thomas Lee

Fragility is the arch enemy of curiosity, the Yankees to the Red Sox, the Sharks to the Jets. While curiosity is a quality that allows one to explore and engage ideas, fragility causes people to shut down and lash out.

You’d think I’m referring to our current toxic political climate or endless culture wars. No dear reader. Our tale begins in the Twin Cities, home to beautiful lakes, green bean casseroles, and Midwest-flavored passive aggression.

I had just moved back to Minneapolis in early September and was looking forward to rejoining the local theater community. I had previously taken acting classes, seen countless shows, served on the board of an Asian American theater organization, and performed in a couple of productions.

I enrolled in a new class on theater criticism at the Jungle Theater, one of the region’s major theaters. I used to write film reviews for the San Francisco Chronicle and wanted to expand my purview towards plays and musicals.

Our first assignment was to write a review of The Cherry Orchard by Anton Chekhov at the Jungle and then share it with the class. The assignment was especially difficult because I disliked the play but somehow had to objectively review the production. 

Suffice it to say, I liked neither the Jungle show nor the source material.

Here’s some of what I wrote:

“Nothing really happens in The Cherry Orchard, and that’s by design. The characters are caught in a perpetual state of inertia: they can’t or won’t adapt to the changing world around them… So, the challenge for this particular production is to somehow rise beyond its source material, to add some pathos where only inertia exists. Unfortunately, despite a hard-working group of first-rate actors, I felt nothing towards any of the characters.”

Harsh? Maybe. But truthful? Absolutely. 

I posted the review on Facebook to get some feedback. But in reality, I didn’t expect anyone to actually read a 1,200-word class assignment concerning a 1904 tragedy/comedy set in Russia.

Boy, I was wrong.

Half an hour later, I received a direct message on Facebook from no other than Tracey Maloney, the lead actress of the show. 

She was not happy.

“Hi Thomas, my name is Tracey Maloney. We were friends on Facebook. I just wanted to let you know that I am very selective about what I read in terms of reviews. I had no choice but to see your review of the cherry orchard because it was all printed out and jumped out at me.It just kind of hurt a little. I know it is a critics job, but maybe in the future post a link so people can choose to look at it or not.

It actually kind of stung a lot. Just to be honest. I hope your time in Minneapolis goes well.”

Wow. So much to unpack here. Best do it in bullet points.

• I’m very selective about what I read in terms of reviews. Are you though? I’m not the New York Times. I’m not even the St. Cloud Times. I’m … well, nobody actually.

• I had no choice but to see your review of the cherry orchard because it was all printed out and jumped out at me. You had no choice? Was my review holding your dog hostage? I don’t even mention Maloney until two-thirds of the way down a 1,200-word piece.

• I know it is a critics job, but maybe in the future post a link so people can choose to look at it or not. A critic’s job is not actually a critic’s job because I’m not a critic. I’m a student taking a community class. And no, I can’t post a link because there is nothing to link to. Which is just another way of saying: I’M NOT A CRITIC.

Here’s what I wrote back:

“Hi Tracey. Thanks for your message. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. It was not my intention.
But I’m surprised the review even reached you. I wrote the review for a class and was seeking feedback. I even forgot we were Facebook friends. And I believe this is the first time we ever interacted.
You’re an accomplished actor so I think you know that not all opinions are equal, especially opinions from an amateur critic completing a class assignment.
In any case, I look forward to seeing them on the stage again in the Twin Cities. Best … T”

Well, that was interesting. But I thought my response was on point and dignified. Case closed, right?

Not a chance.

A day later, Randy Reyes, another actor from The Cherry Orchard, wrote to me on Facebook, about two or three hours before he was supposed to perform in the show.

“Thomas, I’m confused about your decision to post this review publicly, especially given the current challenges facing the arts. I hope your class emphasizes the importance of considering the artist’s intention, rather than just personal reactions. Your criticism came across as dismissive and snarky, focusing on your own desires and opinions rather than the creative process. Please take more time to consider the artist’s intention and perspective and avoid making assumptions. Remember that art can resonate with people in different ways, and negative criticism can have a significant impact on individuals’ livelihoods.”

Amazing. Reyes somehow took Maloney’s message and escalated it. It wasn’t enough to hurt Maloney’s feelings, but I was now attacking people’s livelihoods. Apparently, I committed the sin of writing and posting a negative review “given the current challenges facing the arts.”

I won’t rebut everything Reyes said, even though he seems to suggest that we censor ourselves, which is ironic coming from an artist.

Let’s just get to the heart of the matter: the very real problem of human fragility. I understand that artists, especially actors, can be sensitive to criticism. It takes a lot of guts and vulnerability to put yourself out there on stage, emotionally naked to the world.

I admit I can be thin skinned at people who don’t like my columns, articles, and books. But them the brakes people. Content and criticism are always a two-way street.

But like I told Maloney, opinions are not equal. There’s a difference between caring about a hot take some yahoo on Twitter wrote in 50 characters or less versus a thoughtful book review in the Sunday New York Times.

And both Maloney and Reyes should already know this. Both are seasoned actors who have performed in the Twin Cities for decades. Act like you’ve been there, pun very much intended.

Their puzzling behavior did make me wonder: has fragility spread from the usual battle arenas of politics and culture to all parts of society? 

Thanks to social media and toxic politics, we all seem to be living on edge lately. Perhaps that’s why we see an explosion of videos on TikTok depicting road rages, airline meltdowns, and Karen-like temper tantrums.

We see existential threats, real or imagined, everywhere we go. We assume “the other side” is about to get us. Many of us need machine guns and book bans to feel secure. Security trumps freedom. Anxiety abounds.

Such fragility can now apparently turn an innocent and well-meaning class assignment into a personal attack on actors and their livelihoods.