Inspired by the indecipherable work of Uptown paper of record theater critic Julie York Coppens let’s play —
Here Julie’s clumsy first graf reminds one of a poor translation of a Nietzsche epigram. Such as
Nothing is beautiful, only man: on this piece of naivete rests all aesthetics, it is the first truth of aesthetics. Let us immediately add its second: nothing is ugly but degenerate man – the domain of aesthetic judgment is therewith define.
So, German? Seems plausible, but only until readers are ambushed by this Coppens construct:
The show’s sets by Scott Pask, a designer of exceptional wit and economy, leave plenty of room for movement, while providing great sight gags: the long, long, long sofa of celebrated screen lothario Vittorio Vidal (Aaron Ramey, dashing and hilarious in the part); the sombrero-motif booths of Barney’s Chile Hacienda, where Charity and Oscar share a saucy, back-to-back love scene. Pask’s elevator is both a jewel-box frame for Oscar and Charity’s meet-cute, and a jungle-gym for Adkins’ inspired comedy, when the chamber stalls and Oscar’s claustrophobia turns the actor into a panicked chimpanzee.
Native Germans would never say something like Panikschimpansen or Sombreroleitmotiv. That’s right out. French? Let’s try:
The show’s costumes, by Rock Hill-bred designer William Ivey Long, capture the era and further beautify the dancers’ bodies. Most gorgeous of all, in her pink plumage, baby-doll chemise and kittenish elbow-gloves: Nova Bergeron in “Rich Man’s Frug.” The nightclub number is Cilento’s smartest homage to the Fosse style, and the height of our “Sweet Charity” honeymoon.
Too bad when it’s over.
No, not French either. We would not get “chemise” or “homage.” Instead we would get some obscure reference to a Camus character.
What then? Sanskrit? Urdu? Brazilian Portuguese? Possible — but in theater?
No, I’m afraid we have to conclude that Julie’s has learned the only English available to her in the rarified air of theater criticism.
Supercilious-ese.
