Angels in America

I've only just recently picked up this HBO miniseries from the library to peruse in my spare time. I found the series surprising on multiple levels but ultimately, delightful.

First of all, I did not realize this was going to be about homosexuality. I am by no means anti-homosexuality, my surprise is due to the fact that one does not usually see this topic treated in greater depth within the mainstream fare, besides the token gay hairdresser dotting the cinematic landscape. Of course I have much to learn about the gay culture. For instance, the other day, I was informed of what the term "down low" meant, of which I had hitherto never been aware of its double entendre.

But back to the subject at hand - Angels in America is essentially a play that was adapted to film and it is somewhat evident in the way the film is directed that it is still very conscious of its play roots. I don't know if I can explain it adequately, but a lot of the scenes still have a stagey feel, and one can get most of the dramatic impact from viewing the scene from one perspective only. The characters do a fair share of moving around, but the camera was not as nimble.

That is all well and good, because in my opinion, the two most delightful qualities about this work are a> its dialogue between the characters and b> the sheer melodramatic weight that it brings forth at key moments in time. It was damned funny too, at certain moments, as when Roy Cohn (played by Al Pacino) fakes his death to one up a gloating dead nemesis ghost who is very likely conjured in his imagination. The acting was great, stellar, magnificent by all its cast, but I thought the words, those words, are truly brilliant and of a class that I've not encountered in a while in any movie or play.

So many times throughout the film, I was rapt, thinking, "That's amazing! Why have I never thought to phrase things like that?" I suppose it's the egomaniac in me speaking, always wishing I could spit out brilliant phrases as casually as breathing, but it's also my genuine appreciation for literary prowess, of which Tony Kushner displayed to full glory in this masterpiece.

I would be in remiss if I don't actually try to give a summary of this story (spoiler alert), for those who happen to read this post. So few visit these days, so perhaps it doesn't even matter. sniff... Okay, enough self-pitying for now. So, the story is as follows. A gay Jewish man finds out his lover, a beautiful WASP, descended from a grand and noble lineage, has AIDS. He is horrified, understandably so, and struggled to be there for him. In a parallel story, a young Mormon lawyer married and living in NYC, struggles with his own hidden sexual identity and ultimately decides to confront it openly. His wife, with a history of abuse at home, is now a grown woman with emotional issues and is addicted to Valium. She has also perhaps been long aware of her husband's lack of desire for her and struggled to come to terms with the truth as well. The third story is of an aging Jewish lawyer, very vitriolic and hateful but still formidable. He also comes down with AIDS. The three stories, at first seemingly disconnected, intertwined ultimately in a very satisfying way.

The great thing is, all these people with their significant issues and problems and angst managed to not come across as a drag, a bore, a party pooper, or just plain depressing. Even at their worst, there is something delightful in the way they try to reason their way out of their miseries and bumble and stumble about, lost, confused, talking to imaginary friends.

It's poignant, it's touching, it's funny and it's sad, but the story triumphantly paints a picture of real human beings, not postcard characters, flat and glossy.

I am thankful of being reminded yet again what happens when several major talents (literary, dramatic, production and packaging) intersect successfully at a point in space, the result? An explosion of fireworks that gave birth to a story that will forever have at least one devoted and captivated fan from yours truly.