America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

After finalizing the premiere date of December 15, Arthur and his team entered a busy and intense preparation period.

The rehearsals moved from the dock's basement to the actual stage. The lighting needed to be adjusted, the props needed to be worked out, and the actors needed to adapt to the new space and echoes.

At the same time, the gears of propaganda began to turn faster.

On December 3rd, the New York Herald published a striking announcement on its front page:

"Yes, Mayor" will premiere at the Providence Theatre on December 15.

Ticket price: 50 cents

A satirical comedy about bureaucracy, a dialogue about power and absurdity.

Below the announcement, a synopsis of the script and a photo of Arthur Kennedy were also included.

Isabella herself wrote an accompanying article titled "When Comedy Comes into Reality—Arthur Kennedy's New Work Is Coming Soon."

The article is brilliantly written, introducing the content of the script while subtly hinting at its connection to reality.

In "Yes, Mayor," we witness an absurd bureaucratic system. An ordinary citizen wanting to get something done has to go through countless departments, fill out countless forms, and meet countless officials. And each of these officials is arrogant, indifferent, and only concerned with their own power.

Does this sound familiar?

Yes, because that's the reality we experience every day.

The article generated some reactions after it was published.

The newspaper received many letters from readers, most of whom expressed their anticipation.

"Finally, someone dares to satirize those bastards!" one reader wrote.

"I want to buy ten tickets and take my friends to see it."

However, there are also some dissenting voices.

"What can a play change? Those officials won't change just because of your satire."

"Fifty cents a ticket may sound cheap, but it's still a significant expense for unemployed workers. With the economy so bad right now, many people can't even afford to eat, let alone have spare money to go to the movies."

……

Tickets for the Providence Theatre went on sale on December 5th.

Williams Wright set up a ticket window at the theater entrance, which opened at nine o'clock in the morning. The theater was rearranged, with some seats added, bringing the total capacity to 350 people.

On the first day, not many people came to buy tickets.

Only eighteen tickets were sold in the morning, mostly to artists and students from Greenwich Village.

The situation improved slightly in the afternoon, and we sold twenty-three tickets.

By the time the store closed in the evening, a total of forty-one tickets had been sold.

Williams called Arthur, his tone somewhat worried:

"Arthur, today's box office results aren't very good."

"It's only the first day, no need to rush. You know, right now everyone's probably busy counting how many coins they have left in their pockets, they don't have time to buy tickets yet."

Arthur spoke to Williams on the other end of the phone, his voice deliberately relaxed.

Williams was not entirely comforted by the joke:

"But the theater has 350 seats. If it's not sold out, you'll lose money, and we won't have a good time either."

He had a clear understanding of the costs involved; although the venue rental fee paid by Arthur could basically cover the theater's fixed costs.

But this week in December, especially the weekend, should have been the most precious time in Greenwich Village.

How many small theater troupes are eagerly waiting for this place, and how many popular plays are lined up?

If we can't sell any tickets now, it would be a complete waste of this great time slot.

Williams continued:

"And... I've heard that some people are maliciously slandering you."

"What?"

Some say Mr. Kennedy is a great writer, but not a good playwright. Others say only fools would watch a play satirizing a mayor. Still others say, with the economy so bad right now, who has the time or inclination to watch a play?

Arthur was silent for a few seconds. He knew such a sound would appear, but hearing it with his own ears still felt like a needle pricking his heart.

However, he quickly adjusted his tone:

"Don't pay attention to what they say, wait a few more days and see. Maybe they're just giving us free publicity, even if it's in a rather unusual way."

After hanging up the phone, Arthur sat back in his chair, lost in thought. Looking at the dismal ticket sales record on the table, he shook his head and muttered to himself:

"It seems that our play is quite similar to the efficiency of the city hall—it takes some effort to get the audience to 'come' to buy tickets."

……

On December 6th, the situation had not improved.

Only thirty-five tickets were sold that day, fewer than the first day. Moreover, some unfriendly comments began to appear in the newspapers.

The New York Daily News published an article titled "How Far Can a Journalist's Theatrical Dream Go?" The article stated:

Mr. Arthur Kennedy is an excellent journalist; his articles are sharp and insightful. But that doesn't mean he can write good plays. Drama is a professional art that requires years of training and experience. It's naive for a journalist to try and conquer this field with just enthusiasm.

The economic crisis is deepening, unemployment is rising, and people are struggling to make ends meet. Releasing a satirical play at such a time is a disregard for social reality.

Judging from the current box office figures, audiences have already voted with their feet. Forty-one tickets—what does that mean? Less than one-eighth of the theater's seating capacity.

This article was reprinted by several other newspapers, causing quite a stir.

The newspaper received more letters from readers, mostly expressing doubts and agreement.

"Perhaps Mr. Kennedy should focus on writing articles rather than plays."

"I was planning to go see it, but seeing how bad the box office is, I think I'll pass. It's probably not going to be good."

"If even the audience isn't willing to buy tickets, how good can this play be?"

"Who's in the mood to watch a play right now? I don't even know where my rent for next month is coming from."

Arthur looked at the letters and his expression turned grim.

Just then, Isabella walked into the office with a newspaper that had just been delivered. Seeing his expression, she asked, "What's wrong?"

Arthur handed her the critical article, trying to make the best of a bad situation, and said:

"Look, we haven't even officially taken the stage yet, and we already have 'professional theater critics' writing bad reviews for us. This service is much more proactive than the ticket collectors at the theater entrance."

Isabella's face darkened after reading it, and she looked somewhat displeased.

"Someone is deliberately smearing you. How could they do this? It's so mean!"

"I know, but they're right about one thing: the box office is indeed not good." Arthur shrugged and tapped the stack of disheartening reader letters on the table with his fingers.

"Perhaps the economic crisis has made people feel that watching satire is a luxury. After all, real life is already ridiculous enough, why spend money to see another one?"

Isabella sensed Arthur's helplessness and comforted him, saying, "It's only been two days since we started selling; we can't jump to conclusions so quickly."

Arthur sighed and said self-deprecatingly:

"You're right. But then again, even if nobody comes, the chairs are still an audience, and they never leave halfway through, right? At least they won't write any critical articles."

Isabella fell silent. She knew Arthur was dealing with the stress in his own way.

But she was a little anxious.

In New York, the line between success and failure is clear, sometimes even brutal.

If the premiere fails, Arthur's reputation built up through the newspapers, and his dream of making his voice heard more through theater, could be severely damaged.