I have never seen nor read the plays so I was prepared to say at the outset that I can make no judgment upon them. But, since so many reviews on this site have emphasized how well - even perfectly - this six-hour miniseries caught their tone and spirit, I have to openly wonder how great they were to begin with.
Basically, I agree with those who say that the AIDS-related theme breathes a nobility and importance into 'Angels' that it otherwise would not have, making it somehow *seem* profound and epic. Instead, I found it to be kind of a mess, peopled at the center with unlikable and inexplicable characters: by the third hour, I was fast-forwarding past any scene that had either Louis, Harper or Joe Pitt in it. These are just poorly written and developed characters, whose neediness and co-dependence make them strident and one-note, rather than recognizably human. The storyline with Roy Cohn was a little bit more interesting, and I was impressed with Pacino's performance, but even that devolved quickly into cliché: the powerful man brought low by suffering, with no new spin to offer. (And, frankly, his story's connection to the rest of the piece was dubious at best.) Two of my all-time favorite actresses - Meryl Streep and Emma Thompson - were stranded in unplayable parts (not just one, but three for both of them - thus compounding the damage) and so didn't even register.
Just to elaborate on my dislike of Harper, Joe and Louis: I felt their humanity was compromised because they were conceived and drawn so poorly, not least in the inconsistencies they displayed. Of course, human beings can be extremely inconsistent, but with these characters it felt more like bad writing. Harper spends most of the first part forcing her husband to admit he is gay, and then spends the rest of the piece angry at him for telling her so. Joe's conservative, Republican values are established early on, and then never explained or defended, even amidst Louis's constant challenges. Nor, frankly, is Joe's attraction to Louis: they seem mismatched from the start, making their scenes together just painful to watch (and no, not because of the erotic homosexual content). Louis himself is simply whatever the playwright wants him to be at any particular moment: neurotic and guilt-ridden in the extreme (as well as glum and charmless) around Prior, self-righteous and loghorreic around Belize, mincing and seductive around Joe. Even taking into account the notion that in life we act differently around different people, his personality jumps are simply too extreme, making him seem like three characters instead of one (none of them likable or compelling). [Prior even notes at the beginning how Louis is unable to distinguish very well who is and isn't gay, and yet Louis spots Joe a mile off when no one else picks up on it. Inconsistency!]
And then there's the fantasy sequences. I'll readily admit that these kinds of things tend to work better on the stage, and so perhaps may have been powerful and meaningful there. But I doubt it. They're so poorly written: awkwardly constructed - with flowery and rambling dialogue - and inserted clumsily into the proceedings. Rather than helping to deepen or explain the characters, these sequences actually serve to make them seem even *less* human, and more like . . . oh I don't know, special effects or something. The movie version, at least, would have benefited from their excision, I believe.
Finally, that damn angel. I guess that part couldn't have been excised, since it forms the touchstone image of the entire piece. I didn't get it. Let me say upfront that I was not offended at all by the notion of a highly sexual angel; I actually thought that part was cool (if heavenly creatures exist, why *wouldn't* they be imbued with that power and tendency that, after all, represents the highest and most extreme form of earthly bliss?). But that such sexuality was tied not to a force of compassion or empathy, but rather one of wrath and petulance seemed, once again, inconsistent and inexplicable (and made the resultant sex seem more like rape than any kind of commingling with the spiritual world). I will say that this aspect of the piece finally does cohere somewhat in the last half-hour, with the heavenly tribunal (or whatever it was), and that scene was handled with a certain degree of grace and power. But it's a long and confusing slog getting there, and by that point I pretty much didn't care anymore.
The ultimate theme of the piece is seemingly the Nietzshean one that God is either dead or has abandoned us, yet we assert our humanity by going on anyway. Though I don't tend to agree with that assertion, it's a valid theological and artistic point of view, and can serve as the basis for a compelling story. To me, however, 'Angels in America' is not such a story, because it is too sprawling and unfocused to make this point cogently, and bogs itself down in too many subplots, with too many unsympathetic characters. Clearly, many people disagree, and were profoundly moved by the piece. Which is fine: if it is able to imbue you with hopefulness and a compassion for the human race, then it has served a laudable and important goal. I wish it could have done so for me - too few works exist that do, or even try to - but, unfortunately, I found it unsatisfying on just about every level.
Basically, I agree with those who say that the AIDS-related theme breathes a nobility and importance into 'Angels' that it otherwise would not have, making it somehow *seem* profound and epic. Instead, I found it to be kind of a mess, peopled at the center with unlikable and inexplicable characters: by the third hour, I was fast-forwarding past any scene that had either Louis, Harper or Joe Pitt in it. These are just poorly written and developed characters, whose neediness and co-dependence make them strident and one-note, rather than recognizably human. The storyline with Roy Cohn was a little bit more interesting, and I was impressed with Pacino's performance, but even that devolved quickly into cliché: the powerful man brought low by suffering, with no new spin to offer. (And, frankly, his story's connection to the rest of the piece was dubious at best.) Two of my all-time favorite actresses - Meryl Streep and Emma Thompson - were stranded in unplayable parts (not just one, but three for both of them - thus compounding the damage) and so didn't even register.
Just to elaborate on my dislike of Harper, Joe and Louis: I felt their humanity was compromised because they were conceived and drawn so poorly, not least in the inconsistencies they displayed. Of course, human beings can be extremely inconsistent, but with these characters it felt more like bad writing. Harper spends most of the first part forcing her husband to admit he is gay, and then spends the rest of the piece angry at him for telling her so. Joe's conservative, Republican values are established early on, and then never explained or defended, even amidst Louis's constant challenges. Nor, frankly, is Joe's attraction to Louis: they seem mismatched from the start, making their scenes together just painful to watch (and no, not because of the erotic homosexual content). Louis himself is simply whatever the playwright wants him to be at any particular moment: neurotic and guilt-ridden in the extreme (as well as glum and charmless) around Prior, self-righteous and loghorreic around Belize, mincing and seductive around Joe. Even taking into account the notion that in life we act differently around different people, his personality jumps are simply too extreme, making him seem like three characters instead of one (none of them likable or compelling). [Prior even notes at the beginning how Louis is unable to distinguish very well who is and isn't gay, and yet Louis spots Joe a mile off when no one else picks up on it. Inconsistency!]
And then there's the fantasy sequences. I'll readily admit that these kinds of things tend to work better on the stage, and so perhaps may have been powerful and meaningful there. But I doubt it. They're so poorly written: awkwardly constructed - with flowery and rambling dialogue - and inserted clumsily into the proceedings. Rather than helping to deepen or explain the characters, these sequences actually serve to make them seem even *less* human, and more like . . . oh I don't know, special effects or something. The movie version, at least, would have benefited from their excision, I believe.
Finally, that damn angel. I guess that part couldn't have been excised, since it forms the touchstone image of the entire piece. I didn't get it. Let me say upfront that I was not offended at all by the notion of a highly sexual angel; I actually thought that part was cool (if heavenly creatures exist, why *wouldn't* they be imbued with that power and tendency that, after all, represents the highest and most extreme form of earthly bliss?). But that such sexuality was tied not to a force of compassion or empathy, but rather one of wrath and petulance seemed, once again, inconsistent and inexplicable (and made the resultant sex seem more like rape than any kind of commingling with the spiritual world). I will say that this aspect of the piece finally does cohere somewhat in the last half-hour, with the heavenly tribunal (or whatever it was), and that scene was handled with a certain degree of grace and power. But it's a long and confusing slog getting there, and by that point I pretty much didn't care anymore.
The ultimate theme of the piece is seemingly the Nietzshean one that God is either dead or has abandoned us, yet we assert our humanity by going on anyway. Though I don't tend to agree with that assertion, it's a valid theological and artistic point of view, and can serve as the basis for a compelling story. To me, however, 'Angels in America' is not such a story, because it is too sprawling and unfocused to make this point cogently, and bogs itself down in too many subplots, with too many unsympathetic characters. Clearly, many people disagree, and were profoundly moved by the piece. Which is fine: if it is able to imbue you with hopefulness and a compassion for the human race, then it has served a laudable and important goal. I wish it could have done so for me - too few works exist that do, or even try to - but, unfortunately, I found it unsatisfying on just about every level.