Intermission: The Inheritance
Matthew Lopez’s acclaimed new seven-hour long gay epic looks at systemic and internal homophobia between generations
One may as well begin with E.M. Forster. To be specific, his renowned work of literature Howard’s End, which serves as an inspiration for many. Surely, a young writer hoping to explore the turmoil and triumph in the span of a life will find no better representative than Howard’s End, the inspiration behind the Broadway adaptation called The Inheritance.
Writer Matthew Lopez has given us such a triumph of playwriting with his newest Broadway hit that chronicles several years of a life. Perhaps the greatest tragedy of The Inheritance is that its momentum was shot down by Coronavirus. Much like the ghosts that haunt the characters within this play, so does the ghost light of a work of epic drama fill the theater that once housed it. It is rather ironic, given the circumstances of the play.
We begin with nine unnamed young men seated around one another with pencil and paper in hand, attempting to get the ball rolling on a new novel. There is a lack of unity among them as they try to find a sense of direction.
Who can help? See my opening statement from two paragraphs above. Mr. Forster himself appears in the room with the young writers to offer mentorship. Thus, the events of the novel are put onto page.
One of the unnamed young scribes stands up and inhabits the role of Toby, an overly eager and self-assured man in his twenties bound to make a name for himself as a playwright. Young, misguided, bitter, he appears to be the central character of the novel in process. We’re introduced to another young man, Eric, Toby’s boyfriend, who lacks confidence, stature, and the financial resources the keep up payments for his and Toby’s apartment in New York City, which he inherited from his grandmother. Upon discovering the news, Eric decides to propose to Toby, who is soon set to travel to Chicago to put on his first play.
As more characters are introduced, we see that the anonymous men take their roles in acting out dialogue and plot. The Inheritance, I must say, is a play within a play!
Among these new figures are Walter and Henry, an older gay couple living in a lavish apartment far above the ranks of Toby and Eric. They are a source of envy in the case of Toby and comfort for Eric. It is the interactions between these four that the plot unfolds. Other characters include Jasper, a longtime friend of Eric’s who is politically driven and socially active with, I must mention, a horrid taste in men. There is Jason and Jason. The two Jasons have been lovers for several years and are determined to have a child. We meet Tristan, a black gay American; a multi-hyphenate of unfortunate disposition who intends to flee from his country.
And, of course, there is Adam, a young actor who lands the title role in Toby’s play, an adaptation of his bio-novel, Loved Boy. The relationship between the two becomes intense and passionate as they travel to Chicago to rehearse the play, leaving Eric behind.
During the staging, Eric becomes close to Walter Poole, mentioned earlier. Walter becomes a beacon of comfort and wisdom to Eric, telling the story of his country home that once housed a young man suffering from AIDS in the 1980’s. Walter cared for the young man, named Peter, until his dying day. This was to the chagrin of Walter’s partner Henry, who saw the man as the disease embodied; a speck of dirt on their lives.
Toby returns from Chicago to see his fiancée. What should be a wonderful moment of reconnection turns immediately tense, though. Toby was never made aware by Eric that they are set to lose the apartment. Toby accuses his partner of lying and taking advantage of his upcoming artistic success and of being too weak to reveal the truth to him. Eric fires back with some retorts about Toby’s ego and lack of charisma.
Their fight is interrupted by Henry. Walter is dead.
Toby and Eric break up.
Then, Walter’s widow Henry becomes a prominent figure in the play. A businessman of great stature with two spoiled sons, he befriends Eric upon discovering a note written by his beloved that instructed to give the young man a special inheritance: his country home where he sheltered Peter. Henry’s sons claim it is fake, and the note is destroyed. As much as they can help it, Eric will never be in possession of that much needed property.
Eric and Henry, both single, become close, then closer, then engaged. Henry’s financial status and knowledge gives Eric monetary and emotional support. However, during a dinner with that long list of Eric’s friends (remember the two Jasons?), Jasper is able to draw out of Henry that he is a Republican. This comes as a shock to everyone. How could a gay man support Reagan, Bush, and Trump? And how could Eric, a lifelong activist and Democratic supporter, marry this man of the establishment? By losing these friends. They walk out on Eric.
Meanwhile, Toby’s play is a success, but for all the wrong reasons. The direction is praised, the performance by Adam is lauded, but Toby’s script is given some criticism. It doesn’t seem authentic. Toby grows angry; angry at Adam, the director, the critics, and the loss of Eric. He deals with this by hooking up with Leo, a young prostitute living on the streets. Toby attempts to engage in a meaningful relationship with him and invites him over often. Toby even buys him a pile of books, including ones by E.M. Forster, which in truth were all of Eric’s favorites.
I realize that this plot summary is abundant. In fact, it’s quite abundant. I will explain why in a moment, but in an attempt to not take up too much of this review with story description, I will summarize Act Two as quickly as possible: reunions, fights, more fights, suicide attempts, successful suicide, AIDS, running away to Alabama, one thousand regretful emails, a lot of tears (both within the play and while reading), Toby writes another play, Leo writes a novel, and Eric inherits the country house.
I must admit I feel that I’ve done a great disservice to Matthew Lopez by describing the play’s second act in such a way but do understand that The Inheritance is a very complicated piece of writing to talk about.
One of the reasons for this is its heft. The book of the play in its published edition is three hundred pages. That accounts for seven hours of stage time. Much like Chekhov’s old dramas, this play included a dinner break after Act One. Seven hours of play makes for a lot of characters and introspection; a number of secrets and interactions that dispel that very secrecy. And, remember that this is a play within a play. Sometimes the events aren’t even really taking place. The writers (the nine young men) interject the action and dialogue acting as narrators.
The Inheritance is a monumental work of art that must be experienced however necessary.
I encourage any young gay man to read or go and see this play. The commentary on queer life in America is the central concept explored, and it is done so with opposing views from both sides of the political spectrum as well as those who experienced the surge of the AIDS crisis in the 1980’s. Several characters are “inherited” something that represents a greater image: the crisis and struggle that is ongoing for LGBTQ+ people in this country.
Just one day before completing this review, the Supreme Court announced the ruling of protections for LGBTQ+ workers under the Civil Rights Act. This was a landmark event that ensured one thing: basic human rights for queer people. It was cause for celebration, but it does feel as though the year 2020 is far too late to be relishing in it. Like most public demonstrations rallying for social change, there is a sense that this change should have happened years earlier.
This makes The Inheritance an important piece of writing. The play offers the deepest of personal experience; the shame fueled by being born into a country systemically and socially opposed to queer people and the fears, consequences, angst, and hopelessness that stems from it. The ghosts of the fallen members of the community haunt these characters and remind them, and the audience, of the phobias that remain towards gay people.
The Inheritance is one of the most moving pieces of drama I have ever read. Despite it being a packed three hundred pages, I did not want it to end. I would sit in a theatre for days to witness more study of these people and the generations before and beyond them. It is one of the most heart-wrenching and urgent plays of today, and my heart breaks that it could not finish its full run on Broadway.
I am determined to not allow this play to fall to the wayside; it shall not and will not be forgotten. I urge the reader to purchase the Theatre Communications Group (TCG) edition of the script and dive right in. You will close the book battered and scolded, but also reminded of the earnest deeds within the community. Without fear, there is no hope.
The Inheritance first opened in London at the Old Vic in March of 2018, later being transferred to West End at the Noel Coward Theatre in September. That run earned the play several deserving honors, including Best Play at the London Evening Standard Awards in 2018, and the prestigious Laurence Olivier Awards and Critics’ Circle Awards last year. The Broadway run opened at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre in previews on September 27, 2019, officially opening for the public on November 17. This run was intended to last until March 15, 2020, but New York Governor Andrew Cuomo’s order to ban all large gatherings in the wake of COVID-19 forced it to close on March 12, after one hundred and thirty-eight regular performances. This week, the Broadway run earned five awards at the Drama Desk Awards, including Best New Play.
