Jamie Jackson plays Rupert Murdoch and many more in a new biographical play written by “an unnamed source.”
The advertising materials for Murdoch: The Final Interview do a sterling job of conjuring up an aura of forbidden fruit. Not only is it credited to “an unnamed source,” but one of its producers, Eric Krebs, has even put out a statement, reprinted in multiple news stories, recounting the mysterious Deep Throat-like origin of the anonymous work, swearing that it appeared at Theater555 (where the play is being produced) in a plain manila envelope. It’s the kind of over-the-top marketing appropriate for its subject, extremely influential media mogul Rupert Murdoch. Perhaps it was inevitable that the play itself would fail to live up to such hype, which is not to say it doesn’t have its compensations.
The title is somewhat misleading. Though the backbone of the play is the 94-year-old Murdoch (played by Jamie Jackson, the show’s only performer) making a final public appearance on a television show called At the Moment (hosted by “Chodrum Trepur,” aka “Rupert Murdoch” backwards), this is more than just a 90-minute talking-head interview. Instead, the play dips into reenacted childhood memories and surreal asides while hitting the high points of his life. It’s all here: his beginnings in Melbourne, his time as an undergraduate at Oxford, his takeover of his late father’s newspaper business in Adelaide, and his expansion of his News Corporation media empire to the United Kingdom (News of the World, The Sun) and the United States (20th Century Fox, The Wall Street Journal). Even his many marriages get mentioned, as well as the recent succession battle among his children.
Many of these facts could, of course, be gleaned from a glance at Murdoch’s Wikipedia page. But Murdoch: The Final Interview is interested in much more than a mere recounting of facts. There’s no doubt that Murdoch’s journalistic innovations—his newspapers’ tilt toward sensationalism, his slanting of news coverage to support certain (usually conservative) politicians, his emphasis on television personalities over mere news of the day—have had a profound effect on not just the media landscape, but culture in general, including here in the U.S. Many would assess that effect as a destructive one, directly contributing to extreme political polarization exacerbated by competing realities, especially the one broadcast on Fox News.
The play does occasionally hit on some fascinating disconnects between the magnate’s public and private lives. Most telling of all is the fact that in college, he was a Socialist who kept a bust of Lenin in his room (featured as one of many props that make their way onto Peter R. Feuchtwanger’s TV talk-show set design). That sounds counterintuitive for a man whose media properties are considered bastions of right-wing conservatism. The implication that Murdoch is governed less by a committed political perspective than by what he believes will sell the best is arguably the play’s most scalding takeaway.
Mostly, though, Murdoch: The Final Interview is made up of toothless satirical gestures and bits of dime-store psychologizing. Having the play open with a musical setting of William Butler Yeats’s apocalyptic poem “The Second Coming” (composed by SoHee Youn, performed by countertenor Sean Patrick Doyle and pianist Isaac Hayward) makes the playwright’s damning take on Murdoch’s poisonous legacy pretty obvious from the outset. Tying some of his capitalistic ruthlessness to a deep-seated desire to please his father is, at this point, beyond cliché. And the reference to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein—that President Donald Trump is the Frankenstein monster that Murdoch created but ultimately couldn’t control—is, however true, hardly the revelatory newsflash the playwright seems to think it is.
Still, Murdoch: The Final Interview remains at least watchable throughout. Part of that is due to director Christopher Scott, who uses Andy Evan Cohen’s playful video design, Saunders Harrison-Matthews elaborate lighting design, and Josh Weidenbaum’s wide-ranging sound design to create a convincing multimedia-circus atmosphere.
Ultimately, though, the show rests on the shoulders of lone performer Jackson (plus the stage manager who appears onstage throughout to hand him props and clean up). Playing all the characters—not just Murdoch and the interviewer, but also Murdoch’s father, disgraced late Fox News CEO Roger Ailes, Austrian economist Friedrich Hayek, and many more—Jackson shows a remarkable fluidity transitioning from one role to the next while always making it clear who it is we’re watching. The play itself may be less than the sum of its lurid marketing, but Jackson’s impressive performance is the genuine article.