It is October 4, 1965. Pope Paul VI is descending upon New York City in a whirlwind of incense and motorcades. But inside a cramped, chaotic apartment in Sunnyside, Queens, the "blessing" everyone is waiting for feels a lot more like a curse.
The House of Blue Leaves isn’t your typical night at the theater. Honestly, it’s a bit of a tonal car crash, but in the best way possible. Written by John Guare and first premiering Off-Broadway in 1971, this play is a frantic, heartbreaking, and weirdly hilarious look at the American obsession with celebrity. It’s about people who would rather be famous and miserable than anonymous and happy.
Most people know it as a "black comedy." That’s a polite way of saying it’s a play where you laugh until you realize you’re watching a woman lose her mind and a man commit a slow-motion act of domestic destruction.
The Dream of Escaping Sunnyside
At the center of the storm is Artie Shaughnessy. He’s a middle-aged zookeeper who spends his days feeding animals and his nights banging out mediocre tunes on a piano at the El Dorado Bar & Grill. Artie is desperate. He’s forty-five, and he can feel the clock ticking. He’s convinced that his old friend Billy Einhorn—now a big-shot Hollywood director—is his golden ticket out of Queens.
Then you've got Bunny Flingus. She’s Artie’s mistress and downstairs neighbor. Bunny is basically a human hurricane of ambition. She won’t even cook for Artie until they’re married and living in California, because she knows her "culinary arts" are her only leverage. She’s the one pushing Artie to institutionalize his wife, Bananas, so they can run off to the West Coast.
And then there’s Bananas.
✨ Don't miss: Why October London Make Me Wanna Is the Soul Revival We Actually Needed
Poor Bananas. She’s Artie’s wife, and she’s profoundly mentally ill. She’s spent months in her nightgown, wandering the apartment, occasionally barking like a dog. She represents the inconvenient reality that Artie and Bunny are trying to "delete" from their lives. The title, The House of Blue Leaves, actually refers to the sanatorium where Artie wants to send her. He describes it as a beautiful place where the trees are covered in blue birds—except the "leaves" are actually just the birds flying away. It’s a pretty metaphor for a pretty dark plan.
Why the Pope is the Ultimate MacGuffin
The backdrop of the Pope’s visit is genius. In 1965, the Pope wasn't just a religious figure; he was a global superstar. For the characters in this play, the Pope is basically just another celebrity.
Artie wants the Pope to bless his sheet music.
Bunny wants a blessing on their illicit affair.
Three random nuns show up and get stuck on the roof just to catch a glimpse of him on TV.
It’s all about the proximity to greatness. Guare is making a point here: in America, we treat fame like a religion and religion like a talk show. The characters don't want spiritual salvation; they want to be seen. They want the "magic" of a famous person to rub off on them so their boring lives finally mean something.
The Chaos Factor: Ronnie and the Bomb
Just when you think the play is a domestic drama, Artie’s son Ronnie shows up. He’s AWOL from the Army and has a large box containing a homemade bomb.
🔗 Read more: How to Watch The Wolf and the Lion Without Getting Lost in the Wild
Ronnie is the ultimate product of Artie’s failed dreams. When he was a kid, Artie pushed him to audition for a movie, and the rejection broke him. Now, Ronnie doesn't want to be a star; he wants to be a headline. He plans to blow up the Pope. It’s a shocking, violent turn that shifts the play from a farce into something much more dangerous.
The Famous 1986 Revival
If you’re a theater nerd, you probably know the 1986 Lincoln Center production. It’s legendary. It swept the Tonys and featured a cast that sounds like a fever dream today:
- John Mahoney as Artie
- Swoosie Kurtz as Bananas (she won a Tony for this)
- Stockard Channing as Bunny
- Ben Stiller as the son, Ronnie
Wait, Ben Stiller? Yeah. Interestingly, when the play was revived again in 2011, Stiller came back—but this time he played the father, Artie. That 2011 cast also had Edie Falco as Bananas and Jennifer Jason Leigh as Bunny. It just goes to show how much actors love these roles. They are incredibly juicy, difficult, and high-energy.
The Harsh Reality of the Ending
Without giving away every single beat, let’s just say the "Hollywood ending" never arrives. Billy Einhorn eventually shows up, but he doesn't bring a contract for Artie. He brings a way out for himself.
The play ends in a moment of quiet, devastating violence. Artie is left alone with Bananas, and the realization that his songs are derivative and his dreams are dead finally sinks in. He chooses a final, permanent "solution" for his wife that is as heartbreaking as it is inevitable.
💡 You might also like: Is Lincoln Lawyer Coming Back? Mickey Haller's Next Move Explained
It’s a tough watch. Sorta makes you rethink your own social media feed, doesn't it? We’re still living in Artie’s world, just with better cameras.
Key Takeaways for Theater Lovers
If you're studying the play or planning to see a production, keep these things in mind:
- Watch for the Fourth Wall: Guare has the characters speak directly to the audience. This isn't just a gimmick; it makes us "accomplices" in their crazy plans.
- Listen to the Music: The songs Artie writes (which Guare actually wrote) are intentionally "almost good." They sound like everything else, which is exactly Artie's problem. He has no original voice.
- The Symbolism of Animals: Artie works at the zoo, and his wife acts like an animal. The play asks: who is actually caged?
The House of Blue Leaves remains a staple because it refuses to be one thing. It’s a comedy until it’s a tragedy, and then it’s a satire. It forces us to look at our own hunger for "more" and asks what we're willing to sacrifice to get it.
To really appreciate Guare's work, the best next step is to read the script while listening to the 1986 cast recording. Pay close attention to the stage directions in Act II—the pacing is designed to feel like a panic attack. If you're a performer, try monologues from Bananas or Bunny to practice shifting between extreme vulnerability and manic energy.