THE NEW YORK SUN: Not "Just For Us" Anymore

Alex Edelman’s “Just for Us” is catalyzing an off-Broadway renaissance by giving us what Broadway isn’t: original material, heterodox thought and face-to-face conversation with those who scare us. 

Broadway isn’t what it used to be. Of the 31 shows currently playing, only eight boast new and original material. The other 23 are antiquated (think the synth-laden “Phantom,” which opened in 1986) or based on unoriginal source material (revivals, jukebox musicals and movie adaptations). All are controlled by large corporate entities with political and financial agendas, and produced primarily with tourism in mind. Ten houses still sit empty.

Given the dire financial ramifications of Covid on the entertainment industry, a Broadway resurrection doesn’t seem likely any time soon. So, where is post-pandemic creative innovation happening in New York City theater? 

While Broadway sputters, Off Broadway is experiencing a revival. This world of low-budget shows, sometimes scary for the uninitiated, offers us some of what Broadway is missing and puts creative autonomy back in the artists’ hands, untethered by the obligations of large corporations and limited only by imagination. 

Though Mr. Edelman seems an unlikely pioneer, “Just for Us” is drawing droves of New Yorkers to the SoHo Playhouse. When it opened, it was harder to score a ticket to his show than to Hamilton. It’s now sold out to the end of the run. 

On its face, “Just for Us” is a belly-laugh-inducing comedy routine for the Q-Anon era. Mr. Edelman, an Orthodox Jew, infiltrates a meeting of white supremacists in Queens after coming across an open invitation on Twitter, which reads: “Are you curious about your whiteness?” 

Turns out, he is. But don’t be deterred by the obvious political exterior. The show reaches farther and cuts deeper than the Times would have us believe. 

“Everyone focuses on the white identity people at the center of the meeting, these racists,” he explained in an interview with the New York Jewish Week. “Maybe this is revealing, but the show’s about me. They are entirely secondary.” 

Underneath the “Nerf Nazi” A-plot is a series of more poignant questions: What does it mean to be a Jew in a space that’s not Jewish? Is he too Jewish, or not Jewish enough? Are Jews white? What does it mean to be different? What separates us from one another, and why? And finally, how are we the same? What can bring us together? 

Carefully interwoven is a childhood story about his Orthodox Jewish family hosting Christmas for a grieving Christian friend. They pull out all the stops to welcome her: carols, movies, dinner (without ham), Santa, presents, and a tree with a dreidel on top.

When the Rabbi from his school calls home to protest, his father says, “clearly, Rabbi, you don’t understand the meaning of Christmas.” 

At the heart of the show is an attempted connection. From afar, it’s simple to label as “other” and dehumanize those abhorrent to, or different from us. But what happens when we open our homes and our minds? As Mr. Edelman himself points out, “it’s so hard to hate up close.” 

Up close and intimate we were, close enough to hear a bead of sweat hit the stage in the two hundred person theater. Intimate enough to broach religious and racial identity, the cultural climate and Israeli politics, all in under 75 minutes. That’s what Mr. Edelman lives for. “My favorite thing is to argue and discuss and have discourse,” he said in an interview with the Times of Israel.

This is the magic of Off-Broadway that is drawing New Yorkers of all stripes to a hole in the wall on Vandam Street: nuanced, original material that refuses to isolate or “other,” and unorthodox conversation about timely topics that have been deemed off-limits by our artistic betters. 

If “Just for Us” indicates the direction of this Off-Broadway renaissance, it’s promising. It’s not just for any specific demographic. It’s for everyone. It’s so hard to hate up close. 

Bydalek is a writer, performer and administrator living in New York City. She is a proud Nebraskan and graduate of the Musical Theatre Program at the University of Michigan.

Image: Monique Carboni