• The Inheritance, Part 1, 4/26/18 (Thurs), Young Vic
• The Inheritance, Part 2, 5/1/18 (Tues), Young Vic

The Inheritance, Part 1: The first half of a seven-hour portrait of gay yuppies in the Trump era — can’t get more contemporary than that. It is reminiscent of Angels in America in its epic canvas, multiple story lines, gay Manhattan setting, AIDS-related theme, broken relationships and up-to-date politics under a conservative government (plus a lead role that would be perfect for Andrew Garfield). But it is not as angry or preachy. Whereas Angels was written and staged at a time when the gay community was still finding its voice in the face of a mysterious deadly virus and social ostracism, the situation has changed drastically in the intervening years, with gays enjoying much higher visibility and widespread acceptance. The real difference is that this generation has no collective memory of the road that others had to travel to put it there, and the theme of the show is how to remember and deal with the past in order to appreciate the present. (Angels has its own issues in how it interprets the past, but that’s another story.)

A young lawyer Eric (Kyle Soller) living in his grandmother’s luxurious rent-controlled apartment is in a long-term live-in relationship with the egotistical, social-climbing wanna-be playwright Toby (Andrew Burnap). The latter’s affection proves less than deep when (1) a good-looking actor Adam (Samuel H. Levine) emerges in their lives and (2) Eric is evicted from his luxury digs and has to look for more modest accommodation. When Toby goes off to Chicago to do his play with Adam as star, Eric engages in a friendship with his upstairs neighbor, the reserved and much older Walter (Paul Hilton). Walter, lonely in the absence of his own much-traveled lover, the rich developer Henry (John Benjamin Hickey), gradually tells of his past taking care of terminal AIDS patients in his country home, revealing a much different life as a gay man than Eric has ever known. When he himself dies, he asks Henry to pass the house on to the unsuspecting Eric. Whether Henry will follow through is the big question looming at the close of Part 1. As the show ends, Toby has been rejected by both Eric and Adam and has met a prostitute who looks strikingly like Adam (played by the same actor). Eric, meanwhile, has struck up a relationship, platonic thus far, with Henry.

The play opens worryingly with the tedious use of a narrator, the long-dead EM Forster (whose Howard’s End is the inspiration and framework for the show), who is urging a group of comfortable young middle-class gay men to communicate their deep-felt stories. That proves a lazy way to outline themes that should have been reserved for the drama; it becomes confusing when Forster himself (also played by Hilton) actually becomes part of the story when he is berated by one of the characters for having closeted his sexuality rather than championing it and paving the way for others.

Similarly, there were several long political exchanges among the characters that amounted to a parroting of cardboard views rather than actual conversation, as in the worst of Woody Allen dialogues. The author makes a pretense of fairness, but it is clear where his sympathy lies, such as the facile mention of Trayvon Martin.

Once the story itself gets rolling, however, it is extremely affecting. The sprawling show could use a good pair of scissors, but there’s no questioning the sincerity of writer Matthew Lopez, who goes beyond an homage to Howard’s End to something new and thought-provoking about our ever-shifting perception of the past and how or whether we should deal with it. I recalled wondering at a revival of Rent whether young millennials could appreciate the visceral fear we felt at the time as the lead in that show raced to write his one great song before AIDS could fell him, and whether that even matters. The question asked in this show is whether this live-for-today crowd understands the courage it took for activists in past decades to demand rights that are now taken for granted. I suppose that can be said of any generation, such as whether modern society appreciates the sacrifice of an entire generation that went to war to defend a lifestyle that is much under attack today, though I doubt Lopez would want to go there. For all that, it is important to remember but not to obsess and not to judge the past from the standpoint of modern standards. While I’m not sure the play is entirely persuasive in that sense, it offers much room for reflection.

The Inheritance is far more accessible than Angels, where the politics tend to dominate the human drama. The new show creates characters that we really care about, and their stories remain front and center. There were numerous intense moments from a uniformly strong cast: all three leads were excellent, but the best was Hilton, who in his guise as Walter has a long and remarkable speech about his experience as a gay man that was delivered to perfection. Director Stephen Daldry keeps things simple with a single raised platform in the center and a surrounding platform, ably managing the multiple and overlapping stories and doubling of roles with no confusion. His tour-de-force at the end of Part 1, when the ghosts of the home confront Eric, was extraordinarily moving. I have no idea how the various stories will be resolved in Part 2 next week and can’t wait to find out.

The Inheritance, Part 2: The story actually gains in strength as it rolls forward. Part 1 had closed with the back panel opening to reveal the country home, and Part 2 opens with a similar image. Henry has found a worthwhile intellectual companion in Eric and proposes to him. The ever-romantic Eric’s elation is quickly tempered by Henry’s explicit rejection of any sexual relationship. He is baffled by this request but, needing to be needed, accepts.

Unfortunately Toby shows up at the wedding reception with the prostitute-turned boyfriend Leo – who turns out to be Henry’s occasional trick. That naturally sets off fireworks. In a dense story, Toby is rejected in turn by Eric (again), Leo (whose desperate attempts to please Toby have left him diseased and disillusioned) and his producers (after he refuses to back down from a brutally honest play script). After a brief return to his intolerant (of course) Alabama hometown, he goes to visit his ex Eric on a final mission. Meanwhile, Eric has taken in the sick and dying Leo, which has provoked an outraged Henry to throw him out of their Manhattan apartment. Eric takes Leo instead to the country home, where he nurses the young man back to health. The house’s caretaker (Vanessa Redgrave, no less) recalls her own AIDS-stricken son, who had lived in the home and been nursed until his death by Walter. Eric is thus taking over the tradition. Various ghosts from the past are movingly recalled, including appearances by the young Walter and Henry.

Not everything works: the dialogue in the political exchange when the rich man is unveiled as a Republican is contrived, and the usual reference to those stump-toothed bigots in Alabama seems an easy out (does prejudice not exist elsewhere?). Liberal assumptions are basically presented as fact. Republicans are as usual accused of letting AIDS victims die, with no reflection (as in The Normal Heart) on the gay community’s own failure to help contain the tragedy.

Politics aside, though, the characters were fully realized and deeply felt. All of the main characters get their moments in a beautifully balanced setup. Lopez knows how to spin out a powerful story, as in the highly charged wedding celebration scene, and manages adeptly to keep all the strands of his expansive story together. The plot is unpredictable but (aside from some stilted dialogue) entirely credible, and its emotions stay just this side of sentimental. EM Forster reappears occasionally and unnecessarily, but the narrative framework is much better handled this time.

The acting is wonderful all around, especially a superbly modulated performance by Eric and passionate portrayals by Toby (including a fantastic monologue) and Adam/Leo. Vanessa Redgrave is impressive just for being there, bringing star power to a small role; in addition to being the only woman in the entire play, she is amusingly referred to by name in a bit of metatheatre in connection with her appearance in the film Howard’s End (I assume future productions will remove that).

For all its flaws and excesses, including its length, this is exactly the kind of challenging show that Broadway should be tackling, especially given that the writer is from Texas and all the characters but one are American. It’s fortunate that London, as with Angels (which I saw at the National in its premiere way back when), has taken up the mantle. This is going to be a very big show. A must-see.