noahbaumbachrarelydoesadaptationsofotherpeople’s
work,insteadoptingtominehisownemotionalfissuresfor
dramaticgold.He tendstogo fortheugliest nuggets—thejaggedshards
thatdrawbloodonextraction.In thewake ofhisalliancewiththedi-
rectorandactressGretaGerwig,Baumbachhasshownsignsofgrop-
ingtowarda more hopefulstance,i.e.,a belief inthehumancapacity
tochangeandgrow. Butit’s allrelative.Evencallinghisdivorcestory
MarriageStoryandaddingwistfulharmoniesbyRandyNewman(asMOVIES/ DAVIDEDELSTEINLoveandOtherDisastersInMarriage Story,sincerity clasheswithsatireand,uh,Sondheim.There’s a scene in Howards Endthat has
haunted me for 20 years. A pairofsisters,
Helen and Margaret Schlegel, gotoa per-
formance of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony,
and their very different ways oflistening
tell us all we need to know about theirchar-
acters. Helen—a busybody, an interrupter,
a sentimentalist—dramatizes themusicin
her mind, imagining creaturesthat rage
over a vast lightning-lit landscape;Marga-
ret, who takes people on their ownterms,
doesn’t need illustration or elaborationto
engage. Forster is pretty clear aboutwhich
sisterhethinksisright,andI oftenfind
myself thinking guiltily of HowardsEndas
my own busy brain buzzes aroundduringa
play. How do you quiet yourselftoexperi-
ence art? “Ah, Helen, try not tobesucha
Helen,” Forster murmurs at me reproach-
fully from more than a century away.
In The Inheritance, the first threehours
and 15 minutes are so full that eventhe
most chattering mind is overwhelmed.
There’s the speed and effervescenceofthe
group scenes, then there’s Toby—glittering
and amazing in Burnap’s hands, absenttoo
often from the second half. It alsocontainsan image so strong that it wrenches the
door closed behind it: At the close of Part
One, Lopez sends Eric a haunting. (The
production’s representatives have asked
that we not reveal its mechanics, but it’s
hard to talk about the architecture of the
play without discussing this central col-
umn.) Suffice it to say that Eric, our avatar,
finally senses the generation killed by aids.
It’s such a powerful moment that it makes
the second half almost impossible. Part
Two turns on individual concerns—it’s
preoccupied with love, addiction, and the
playwright’s meta-musings on creativity—
which are important but seem like small
potatoes after that ascension into prophet-
hood and group consciousness. Our souls
have been wracked; why are we now
watching a soap opera? All through Part
Two, I tried to be a Margaret, but I just
couldn’t do it. Lopez had gone too slack,
and my memories of the first half began to
populate the stage again. I started to pic-
ture lost men walking across a lightning-lit
landscape. I could almost see them, even
though they haven’t been with us for 30
years and more. ■Scarlett Johansson and Adam Driver.SOLUTIONTOLASTISSUE’SPUZZLE
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