It would seem, based on the reviews, that I am in the minority in observing that the current Broadway production of Sam Shepard's "Fool for Love" is flat and that the stars, Nina Arianda and Sam Rockwell lack even a modicum of chemistry. I saw the brilliant 1983 Circle Rep production with Will Patton and Frances Fisher with requisite sexual fireworks. Even Altman's not so great 1985 film version with Sam Shepard and Kim Basinger oozed a palpable erotic connection. "So what went wrong here?" I ask myself. Sam Rockwell is fine actor with a certain amount of sex appeal and Nina Arianda was a fabulously sensual being in "Venus in Fur" and had real pin-up girl appeal in the Broadway production of "Born Yesterday." Perhaps the direction of Daniel Aukin is at fault which seems to have them playing off anyone but each other. The only real chemistry in the play came in the scene between Eddie (Rockwell) and Martin (Tom Pelphry), May's sweet but dumb suitor. Even the Old Man (Gordon Joseph Weiss) brought more immediacy to his role. Rockwell and Arianda were oddly detached throughout. Perhaps an off night?
Ivo Van Hove's "Antigone"(translation by Anne Carson) which I saw at the BAM Harvey a couple of weeks ago was also problematic. One of the great tragic dramas of all time, it wasn't exactly flat but it felt as though the tragedy was missing. I have no complaints about the staging or design which was basically a scrim with dessert scenes projected on it and a large hole which closes at the end like an eclipse of the sun. The set itself was bare aside from a few risers and a(nother) hole in the center riser signifying a grave that rose and descended as needed. Juliet Binoche was an outstanding Antigone and Patrick O'Kane as Kreon held the stage as the real center of the drama but I never felt the immediacy of the play nor the wrench in my gut that would have made it a tragedy.
Yesterday I saw "The Christians" at Playwrights Horizons, finally succumbing to the press and hoopla around the play and playwright, Lucas Hnath. Again I was left curious unaffected. Although well-acted and nicely staged by Les Waters, I didn't find the debate about whether Christianity requires the existence of a hell and satan nor the other questions of faith addressed in the context of the play especially original. Nice singing though.
The production that really won me over in recent weeks is at the tiny Claire Tow Theatre at Lincoln Center. It's called "The Kill Floor" and is the professional debut of the playwright Abe Koogler who has had the great fortune to have Marin Ireland in his cast. The play is solid and workmanlike and well-directed by Lila Neubegauer but Ireland brings everything up a notch as Andy, an ex-drug addict recently released from prison who is trying to reconnect with her teenage son B (Nicholas L. Ashe). The only work she can find is on the "kill floor" of an abattoir where working conditions are paralyzingly sub-human. She faces seemingly insurmountable obstacles as she desperately tries to heal her relationship with her son and find a way to make connections to fill the lonely void in her life. In a parallel story the son is struggling with his own loneliness and confusion about his sexual identity. Marin Ireland is always so present in her roles that one forgets she is acting but, having seen her play such different characters as Steph in Neil LaBute's "Reasons to be Pretty," Marie Antionette in David Adjmi's play of that name at Soho Rep and Ellen in Lisa Krone's "In the Wake" at the Public Theatre, I can assure you that she has an outstanding range. I also recommend you see her in the title role of the murderously hilarious 2008 independent film "The Understudy."
uer.
Monday, October 12, 2015
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Muldoon's Rogue Oliphant Rosh Hashana
On Monday, September 14th, I attended my third Muldoon's Picnic at the Irish Arts Center which unfortunately fell on the first night of Rosh Hashana. Attendance was down as a result. Who would have thunk it? It appears there are a lot more Irish Jews in New York than I had previously thought. My own children share both heritages but I have always felt they were fairly unique in that. Is there a common bond because both cultures are carriers of the Tay-Sachs disease? But I digress.
On the menu this past Monday were the Australian novelist Peter Carey, poet Maureen N. McClane, Bill Payne of Little Feat, Muldoon's new band Rogue Oliphant (In the past he performed with the band Wayside Shrines and I believe that some of the members are the same) and, of course, the man himself, Paul Muldoon, who never ceases to entertain and astound with his spoken word poems.
Muldoon started the evening off backed by Rogue Oliphant with the rollicking and somewhat bawdy "Mrs. Oliphant" Although the real Mrs. Oliphant was the Scottish Margaret Oliphant, a late 19th century writer of domestic realism and tales of the supernatural, Muldoon's Mrs. Oliphant is presumably his own wife.
Maureen N. McClane read selections from her recent book of poems "This Blue." My favorite line of her poetry from "This Blue": The effort your life / requires exhausts me. / I am not kidding.”
She has also the author of a book and essays about troubadour history and so ended the first half of her program singing the troubadour ballad "Barbara Allen" accompanied on guitar by herself.
Peter Carey read from his novel "The True History of the Kelly Gang" which the Guardian just named in its definitive "100 best novels written in English." Carey is an engaging reader but I would have preferred him to have read something new.
Less interesting, for me at least, was the musician Bill Payne who chatted us up a bit with information about Waco, Texas from whence he hails, sang the song "Dust and Bones" written with his son Evan and recited one of his own poems.
I wasn't able to stay for the second half of the program and am sure I missed out on many more pleasures but I am looking forward to the next next Picnic which is coming up on October 12th and will feature novelist Colum McCann, poet Michael Dickman, fiddler Dan Trueman and others. For more information go to http://www.irishartscenter.org
On the menu this past Monday were the Australian novelist Peter Carey, poet Maureen N. McClane, Bill Payne of Little Feat, Muldoon's new band Rogue Oliphant (In the past he performed with the band Wayside Shrines and I believe that some of the members are the same) and, of course, the man himself, Paul Muldoon, who never ceases to entertain and astound with his spoken word poems.
Muldoon started the evening off backed by Rogue Oliphant with the rollicking and somewhat bawdy "Mrs. Oliphant" Although the real Mrs. Oliphant was the Scottish Margaret Oliphant, a late 19th century writer of domestic realism and tales of the supernatural, Muldoon's Mrs. Oliphant is presumably his own wife.
Maureen N. McClane read selections from her recent book of poems "This Blue." My favorite line of her poetry from "This Blue": The effort your life / requires exhausts me. / I am not kidding.”
She has also the author of a book and essays about troubadour history and so ended the first half of her program singing the troubadour ballad "Barbara Allen" accompanied on guitar by herself.
Peter Carey read from his novel "The True History of the Kelly Gang" which the Guardian just named in its definitive "100 best novels written in English." Carey is an engaging reader but I would have preferred him to have read something new.
Less interesting, for me at least, was the musician Bill Payne who chatted us up a bit with information about Waco, Texas from whence he hails, sang the song "Dust and Bones" written with his son Evan and recited one of his own poems.
I wasn't able to stay for the second half of the program and am sure I missed out on many more pleasures but I am looking forward to the next next Picnic which is coming up on October 12th and will feature novelist Colum McCann, poet Michael Dickman, fiddler Dan Trueman and others. For more information go to http://www.irishartscenter.org
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
BAD, BETTER, BEST
I'm back from a late summer hiatus and ready to roll!
Let us begin with the worst and work our up.
"Mercury Fur"
I am almost never disappointed with Signature's productions (let us just forget about Kenneth Lonergan's "The Medieval Play" for the moment) so I was gobsmacked by the sheer awfulness of the current production of "Mercury Fur." Written by the hot young British playwright and screenwriter of"The Reflecting Skin" Philip Ridley, the play, at 2 1/2 hours, is at least 1 1/2 hours too long. I found myself on clock watch (watch watch?) from about 20 minutes in. And NO ESCAPE! In my captivity, with no intermission and in a space not much bigger than a black box theatre, I found myself passing time contemplating the occupants of the front row tatty armchairs across the stage from me, all of them large and oddly proportioned and several of them asleep for much of the play.
What might have been a tight little one act with a bang of an ending is instead a long meandering talk-fest that ends in a whimper. If I could have understood the mumblings and slurred speech of several of the characters my interest might possibly have been retained, although I doubt it. Scott Elliott strikes again! In glancing at the program afterward I saw that he had also directed "Russian Transport" for The New Group, another long and messy play that I actually WAS able to escape during intermission. I guess he has learned his lesson with respect to intermissions.
The cast is young, very young. This might not have been a problem is any of them actually knew how to act or, at least, act with each other. Again, in glancing at the program, I noticed that few of them had any experience to speak of. The exceptions were Paul Iacono as Lola, the transgender conscience of the play, Peter Mark Kendall as the Party Guest, wired to explode, and Emily Cass McDonnell as The Duchess, the sole female actor in the cast. Ms. Cass McDonnell brought some humor with her on her arrival which was, unfortunately, more than mid-way through the play and too late to save it.
The play itself is a futuristic doomsday story of loneliness, disconnection and violence that has nothing new to to tell us.
"Scenes from an Execution"
I had high hopes for the Potomac Theatre Project's production of Howard Barker's "Scenes From An Execution"directed by Richard Romangnoli, not the least being because of it being the much-heralded final performance by Jan Maxwell, an actress I greatly admire, before she retires from the stage. I adored her in Sondheim's "Follies" on Broadway and thought she came close to saving the vapid "City of Conversation" at Lincoln Center last year. Retiring before she turns 60 seems extreme but she attributes it to a dearth of challenging and interesting parts for women of a certain age.
The 16th Century Venetian artist Galactia, however, is certainly a challenging and interested role.
Galactia, a fictional character based loosely on Artemisia Genteleschi, an artist in the style of of Caravagio, is given a huge commission by the Venetian Republic to paint an epic narrative in celebration of the Republic's victory at sea over the Ottoman Empire at Lepanto. The coarse, lusty, bull-headed and politically incorrect Galactia manages in the course of the play to destroy her relationships with her lover, her daughters, the church and the Venetian powers-that-be but perhaps, astoundingly, not her artistic reputation.
Unfortunately Maxwell screeched her way though the play. She entered at a fever pitch and never came down, even in a scene played completely in the dark. The play is historically fascinating and written with humor, wit and remarkable command of language but there was no modulation or nuance in Ms. Maxwell's performance. Having gone to see "Scenes From An Execution" out of respect for the actor I left less in awe of the actor but with a great admiration for the playwright.
"John"
Annie Baker, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
But, seriously, Annie Baker has not yet had a miss in my opinion. "John" is currently having a run at Signature Theatre. As with her other plays, "The Flick" (still on at The Barrow Street Theatre), "Circle Mirror Transformation" (Playwright's Horizons), and her adaptation of "Uncle Vanya"(Soho Rep), "John" is directed by Sam Gold. There has been much written about their collaboration and it's a great one. I would even speculate that it is hard to discern where the playwright ends and director begins.
The action takes place in an excruciatingly kitchy B&B in Gettysburg overseen by the dotty Mertis, played by Georgia Engel. A youngish couple, Jenny (Hong Chau) And Elias (Christopher Abbott), have stopped here on their way back to Brooklyn from a visit to Jenny's family in the mid-West. Elias wants to visit Gettysburg, Jenny doesn't, and both are taking a long look at their relationship. Elias visits Gettysburg and Jenny and Mertis are visited by Genevieve (Lois Smith).
As they do in "The Flick," Annie Baker and Sam Gold make much of the silences, the spaces between words, in "John." But isn't that like life? There is so much to be said in the unsaying. As a result the play, like "The Flick" runs over 3 1/2 hours (WITH an intermission, I would like to add) but it is time well spent in the company of characters who are not exactly what them seem at the outset.
The actors are all outstanding. The war-horse Lois Smith, muse to likes of Sam Shepard and Tony Kushner and whose first film was East of Eden, is marvelous as the seemingly out of her mind and out of touch Genevieve. The younger actors are good but it's really not their show. The star turn, if you want to call it that, comes from Georgia Engel, late of "The Mary Tyler Moore Show". Baker and Gold cast her in "Uncle Vanya" as Nana and she made such an impression that Baker wrote "John" for her.
The John of the title is an enigma for much of the play. But see "John" and all will be revealed.
Let us begin with the worst and work our up.
"Mercury Fur"
I am almost never disappointed with Signature's productions (let us just forget about Kenneth Lonergan's "The Medieval Play" for the moment) so I was gobsmacked by the sheer awfulness of the current production of "Mercury Fur." Written by the hot young British playwright and screenwriter of"The Reflecting Skin" Philip Ridley, the play, at 2 1/2 hours, is at least 1 1/2 hours too long. I found myself on clock watch (watch watch?) from about 20 minutes in. And NO ESCAPE! In my captivity, with no intermission and in a space not much bigger than a black box theatre, I found myself passing time contemplating the occupants of the front row tatty armchairs across the stage from me, all of them large and oddly proportioned and several of them asleep for much of the play.
What might have been a tight little one act with a bang of an ending is instead a long meandering talk-fest that ends in a whimper. If I could have understood the mumblings and slurred speech of several of the characters my interest might possibly have been retained, although I doubt it. Scott Elliott strikes again! In glancing at the program afterward I saw that he had also directed "Russian Transport" for The New Group, another long and messy play that I actually WAS able to escape during intermission. I guess he has learned his lesson with respect to intermissions.
The cast is young, very young. This might not have been a problem is any of them actually knew how to act or, at least, act with each other. Again, in glancing at the program, I noticed that few of them had any experience to speak of. The exceptions were Paul Iacono as Lola, the transgender conscience of the play, Peter Mark Kendall as the Party Guest, wired to explode, and Emily Cass McDonnell as The Duchess, the sole female actor in the cast. Ms. Cass McDonnell brought some humor with her on her arrival which was, unfortunately, more than mid-way through the play and too late to save it.
The play itself is a futuristic doomsday story of loneliness, disconnection and violence that has nothing new to to tell us.
"Scenes from an Execution"
I had high hopes for the Potomac Theatre Project's production of Howard Barker's "Scenes From An Execution"directed by Richard Romangnoli, not the least being because of it being the much-heralded final performance by Jan Maxwell, an actress I greatly admire, before she retires from the stage. I adored her in Sondheim's "Follies" on Broadway and thought she came close to saving the vapid "City of Conversation" at Lincoln Center last year. Retiring before she turns 60 seems extreme but she attributes it to a dearth of challenging and interesting parts for women of a certain age.
The 16th Century Venetian artist Galactia, however, is certainly a challenging and interested role.
Galactia, a fictional character based loosely on Artemisia Genteleschi, an artist in the style of of Caravagio, is given a huge commission by the Venetian Republic to paint an epic narrative in celebration of the Republic's victory at sea over the Ottoman Empire at Lepanto. The coarse, lusty, bull-headed and politically incorrect Galactia manages in the course of the play to destroy her relationships with her lover, her daughters, the church and the Venetian powers-that-be but perhaps, astoundingly, not her artistic reputation.
Unfortunately Maxwell screeched her way though the play. She entered at a fever pitch and never came down, even in a scene played completely in the dark. The play is historically fascinating and written with humor, wit and remarkable command of language but there was no modulation or nuance in Ms. Maxwell's performance. Having gone to see "Scenes From An Execution" out of respect for the actor I left less in awe of the actor but with a great admiration for the playwright.
"John"
Annie Baker, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
But, seriously, Annie Baker has not yet had a miss in my opinion. "John" is currently having a run at Signature Theatre. As with her other plays, "The Flick" (still on at The Barrow Street Theatre), "Circle Mirror Transformation" (Playwright's Horizons), and her adaptation of "Uncle Vanya"(Soho Rep), "John" is directed by Sam Gold. There has been much written about their collaboration and it's a great one. I would even speculate that it is hard to discern where the playwright ends and director begins.
The action takes place in an excruciatingly kitchy B&B in Gettysburg overseen by the dotty Mertis, played by Georgia Engel. A youngish couple, Jenny (Hong Chau) And Elias (Christopher Abbott), have stopped here on their way back to Brooklyn from a visit to Jenny's family in the mid-West. Elias wants to visit Gettysburg, Jenny doesn't, and both are taking a long look at their relationship. Elias visits Gettysburg and Jenny and Mertis are visited by Genevieve (Lois Smith).
As they do in "The Flick," Annie Baker and Sam Gold make much of the silences, the spaces between words, in "John." But isn't that like life? There is so much to be said in the unsaying. As a result the play, like "The Flick" runs over 3 1/2 hours (WITH an intermission, I would like to add) but it is time well spent in the company of characters who are not exactly what them seem at the outset.
The actors are all outstanding. The war-horse Lois Smith, muse to likes of Sam Shepard and Tony Kushner and whose first film was East of Eden, is marvelous as the seemingly out of her mind and out of touch Genevieve. The younger actors are good but it's really not their show. The star turn, if you want to call it that, comes from Georgia Engel, late of "The Mary Tyler Moore Show". Baker and Gold cast her in "Uncle Vanya" as Nana and she made such an impression that Baker wrote "John" for her.
The John of the title is an enigma for much of the play. But see "John" and all will be revealed.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
A Very Druid Shakespeare Marathon
Last weekend I went to The DruidShakespeare The History Plays, a seven-hour marathon of condensed versions of Richard II, Henry IV parts I & 2 and Henry V at the Gerald W. Lynch Theatre at John Jay College, part of the Lincoln Center Festival 2015.
My first quibble is with Lincoln Center in presenting the plays a good hike to the west of Lincoln Center. I would have preferred the tent in Damrosch Park (which would have been a perfect setting for these plays) or the closer John Jay Theatre that they have used in the past. Apart from it's distance from Lincoln Center, this particular theatre, though large, is characterless and antiseptic.
Although I did not, in the end, have a problem with losing some of the text (well-edited by the Irish playwright Mark O'Rowe), I did take issue with the deliberate incorporation of Irish accents. These are history plays, after all, about the English monarchy. It just didn't work for me to have both Henry's dropping their "h"'s as if they were Irish peasants.
And I did take issue with the amount of gender switching or perhaps just with the way in which it was executed. I'm fine with a woman taking on the roles of Henry VI and V but not with long hair flying and breastplates (literally "breast" plates to accentuate the fact that these were woman) which I found distracting. It was less of an issue with Aisling O'Sullivan as Henry V, her hair held back in a tight braid and for the most part dressed in unisex tunics. Derbhle Crotty at Henry IV, with her long hair (a hairpiece?) teased out and leggings that widened her slight hips, looked more like a Real Housewife of Staten Island than a 14th century king. That aside, her actual performance lacked the fire necessary to the part. Bosco Hogan as John of Gaunt in "Richard II", thrusting her chest out like a prize hen and shuffling along, simply came across as a dementia afflicted old woman. These are powerful roles and deserved to be played as such without cheapening gimmicks.
Marty Rea's doomed Richard II, however, was magnificent. His face painted white and his attire costume-like and severe, his appearance was otherworldly, like a performer in the The Pleasures of the Enchanted Isle at at Louis XIV's court of Versaille. His performance was nuanced, his line deliveries lightning quick and, although an arrogant and spoiled boy-king, he had my sympathy. I only regretted that this fine actor was not used to more effect in the later plays.
Garrett Lombard's Hotspur was also a standout as Hotspur as was Rory Nolan as Falstaff. It's always painful for me to watch Prince Hal's rejection of Falstaff in "Henry IV, Part II" and the great man's decline when his heart is broken.
I would happily go to a Druid Marathon of "Henry VII", Parts I, 2, 3 and "Richard III", but perhaps they can add the "h''s back in for the next round. And bring back the tent!
My first quibble is with Lincoln Center in presenting the plays a good hike to the west of Lincoln Center. I would have preferred the tent in Damrosch Park (which would have been a perfect setting for these plays) or the closer John Jay Theatre that they have used in the past. Apart from it's distance from Lincoln Center, this particular theatre, though large, is characterless and antiseptic.
Although I did not, in the end, have a problem with losing some of the text (well-edited by the Irish playwright Mark O'Rowe), I did take issue with the deliberate incorporation of Irish accents. These are history plays, after all, about the English monarchy. It just didn't work for me to have both Henry's dropping their "h"'s as if they were Irish peasants.
And I did take issue with the amount of gender switching or perhaps just with the way in which it was executed. I'm fine with a woman taking on the roles of Henry VI and V but not with long hair flying and breastplates (literally "breast" plates to accentuate the fact that these were woman) which I found distracting. It was less of an issue with Aisling O'Sullivan as Henry V, her hair held back in a tight braid and for the most part dressed in unisex tunics. Derbhle Crotty at Henry IV, with her long hair (a hairpiece?) teased out and leggings that widened her slight hips, looked more like a Real Housewife of Staten Island than a 14th century king. That aside, her actual performance lacked the fire necessary to the part. Bosco Hogan as John of Gaunt in "Richard II", thrusting her chest out like a prize hen and shuffling along, simply came across as a dementia afflicted old woman. These are powerful roles and deserved to be played as such without cheapening gimmicks.
Marty Rea's doomed Richard II, however, was magnificent. His face painted white and his attire costume-like and severe, his appearance was otherworldly, like a performer in the The Pleasures of the Enchanted Isle at at Louis XIV's court of Versaille. His performance was nuanced, his line deliveries lightning quick and, although an arrogant and spoiled boy-king, he had my sympathy. I only regretted that this fine actor was not used to more effect in the later plays.
Garrett Lombard's Hotspur was also a standout as Hotspur as was Rory Nolan as Falstaff. It's always painful for me to watch Prince Hal's rejection of Falstaff in "Henry IV, Part II" and the great man's decline when his heart is broken.
I would happily go to a Druid Marathon of "Henry VII", Parts I, 2, 3 and "Richard III", but perhaps they can add the "h''s back in for the next round. And bring back the tent!
Thursday, July 2, 2015
"The Way We Get By" and "The Taming of the Shrew"
"The Way We Get By"
I saw the delightful Neil LaBute play "The Way We Get By" at The Second Stage for it's next to last performance on June 21st. Yes, I did write "delightful." I had debated going to see it for several reasons, the primary one being that, although I loved "Reasons To Be Pretty" on Broadway in large part because of the stunning performance by Marin Ireland (readers of this blog will know that I am a huge fan), in general, and along with the rest of the theatre-going community I find LaBute's work to be misogynistic. I also am not a fan of The Second Stage where I have seen a number of disappointing revivals, like last year's star-studded "The Substance of Fire," and works by critically-lauded playwrights whom I find derivative, Sarah Ruhl being a prime example.
Directed by Leigh Silverman who directed the Obie Award winning "In The Wake" at the Public theatre (which also starred Marin Ireland, I might add), the action of the play, set in the living room of a small New York apartment, is just claustrophobic enough to not suffocate as the actors circle each other in a complicated mating dance that promises to never end.
I also had not been keen to see a two-person play with a film/television actress, Amanda Seyfried, who had had no previous theatrical experience. Boy, was I wrong. Seyfried's co-star in "The Way We Get By" is Thomas Sadoski, he of "Reasons to be Pretty" and also HBO's "The Newsroom." Sadoski is always solid and brings nuance to the roles he plays on stage. He did so here, at moments breaking my heart and at others making me want to wring his neck. I would like to say that he carried her along but that would not be accurate. Seyfried more than held her own creating a convincing portrait of a young woman who is not too deep but not without depth either, unmoored but aware of the distance to the shore.
"The Way We Get By" is a relationship play that takes place in the aftermath of a one-night stand. But as the play progresses it is as if we are peeling an onion, as layers and layers of connections come to light and complications abound. Are these two meant to be together? We're never sure. Since the play has closed, you'll have to wait for the movie (which I'm sure there'll be) to draw your own conclusions. And Dear Readers, let me add for the record, no misogyny there.
"The Taming of the Shrew"
Last night I went to the final Prospect Park performance of the The New York Classic Theatre's "The Taming of the Shrew." The classically-trained performers brought a playful spirit to the production as they led the audience from location to location like a group of wandering minstrels. Performances that stood out were Maxon Davis's incredibly magnetic Petruchio, Beethovan Oden's comically adept portrayal of Hortensio,and Nick Salamon's befuddled Bastista. I was especially impressed by Amy Hutchins who had just seamlessly stepped into the role of Katherina, replacing another actress.
The New York Classic Theatre has become one of my new go-tos for Shakespeare in New York and the current production did not disappoint, although there is a reason that the play is not often mounted. Feminists beware!
You still have time to catch "The Taming of the Shrew" in various parks around the city as well as their "Measure for Measure." Go to their website newyorkclassical.org for their full schedule or look for their page on Facebook.
I saw the delightful Neil LaBute play "The Way We Get By" at The Second Stage for it's next to last performance on June 21st. Yes, I did write "delightful." I had debated going to see it for several reasons, the primary one being that, although I loved "Reasons To Be Pretty" on Broadway in large part because of the stunning performance by Marin Ireland (readers of this blog will know that I am a huge fan), in general, and along with the rest of the theatre-going community I find LaBute's work to be misogynistic. I also am not a fan of The Second Stage where I have seen a number of disappointing revivals, like last year's star-studded "The Substance of Fire," and works by critically-lauded playwrights whom I find derivative, Sarah Ruhl being a prime example.
Directed by Leigh Silverman who directed the Obie Award winning "In The Wake" at the Public theatre (which also starred Marin Ireland, I might add), the action of the play, set in the living room of a small New York apartment, is just claustrophobic enough to not suffocate as the actors circle each other in a complicated mating dance that promises to never end.
I also had not been keen to see a two-person play with a film/television actress, Amanda Seyfried, who had had no previous theatrical experience. Boy, was I wrong. Seyfried's co-star in "The Way We Get By" is Thomas Sadoski, he of "Reasons to be Pretty" and also HBO's "The Newsroom." Sadoski is always solid and brings nuance to the roles he plays on stage. He did so here, at moments breaking my heart and at others making me want to wring his neck. I would like to say that he carried her along but that would not be accurate. Seyfried more than held her own creating a convincing portrait of a young woman who is not too deep but not without depth either, unmoored but aware of the distance to the shore.
"The Way We Get By" is a relationship play that takes place in the aftermath of a one-night stand. But as the play progresses it is as if we are peeling an onion, as layers and layers of connections come to light and complications abound. Are these two meant to be together? We're never sure. Since the play has closed, you'll have to wait for the movie (which I'm sure there'll be) to draw your own conclusions. And Dear Readers, let me add for the record, no misogyny there.
"The Taming of the Shrew"
Last night I went to the final Prospect Park performance of the The New York Classic Theatre's "The Taming of the Shrew." The classically-trained performers brought a playful spirit to the production as they led the audience from location to location like a group of wandering minstrels. Performances that stood out were Maxon Davis's incredibly magnetic Petruchio, Beethovan Oden's comically adept portrayal of Hortensio,and Nick Salamon's befuddled Bastista. I was especially impressed by Amy Hutchins who had just seamlessly stepped into the role of Katherina, replacing another actress.
The New York Classic Theatre has become one of my new go-tos for Shakespeare in New York and the current production did not disappoint, although there is a reason that the play is not often mounted. Feminists beware!
You still have time to catch "The Taming of the Shrew" in various parks around the city as well as their "Measure for Measure." Go to their website newyorkclassical.org for their full schedule or look for their page on Facebook.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
"10 Out of "12" is a 12, qualms about "The Qualms" and no glory for "Gloria"
"10 Out of 12" at The Soho Rep made me think about two great French films about filmmaking, "Day For Night" and "Irma Vep." If one really really loves movies then these two films cannot fail to captivate. Well, I really really love theatre and Anne Washburn's engrossing new play at The Soho Rep had the same effect on me. Perhaps to have been a part of that world makes the experience that much richer, but not having been so should not detract from one's enjoyment of the play.
The play takes place during the long hours of the final tech rehearsal for a macabre unnamed historical play (think Poe, for example) at the Soho Rep. We, the audience, are outfitted with a listening device and can hear all the backstage prattle from the stage crew, sometimes relevant to the production but often as mundane as a description of the sandwich brought for the long hours ahead. The actors go in an out of character in the stop-and-go rhythm of the rehearsal as the director and his assistant move through the audience and across the stage.
As the rehearsal progresses we see the subtle do-se-do of relationships among the cast and crew. Artistic temperaments flair up, accidents occur and the show does go on.
As is the norm for pretty much everything I have seen at The Soho Rep, the writing is risky, the performances are pitch-perfect and the direction is seamless.
As for "The Qualms" at Playwright's Horizons the new play by Bruce Norris of the Tony-winning "Clybourne Park" fame, apart from an exceptional performance by Jeremy Schamus, the play is derivative, a poor man's (or woman's) Pinter or Albee. I was not a fan of "Clybourne Park" (been there, seen that) but I know I was in the minority so, I expect if you liked that, then "The Qualms will appeal to you as well.
Branden Jacob-Jenkins new play "Gloria" at The Vineyard Theatre is a disappointment as well. Readers of this blog will know that I was a huge fan of his play "An Octoroon" which I saw at The Soho Rep and then again at Theatre for a New Audience in Brooklyn. That play was audacious in the way it experimented with space and time and addressed race and class. "Gloria" strives for much less.
The play takes place during the long hours of the final tech rehearsal for a macabre unnamed historical play (think Poe, for example) at the Soho Rep. We, the audience, are outfitted with a listening device and can hear all the backstage prattle from the stage crew, sometimes relevant to the production but often as mundane as a description of the sandwich brought for the long hours ahead. The actors go in an out of character in the stop-and-go rhythm of the rehearsal as the director and his assistant move through the audience and across the stage.
As the rehearsal progresses we see the subtle do-se-do of relationships among the cast and crew. Artistic temperaments flair up, accidents occur and the show does go on.
As is the norm for pretty much everything I have seen at The Soho Rep, the writing is risky, the performances are pitch-perfect and the direction is seamless.
As for "The Qualms" at Playwright's Horizons the new play by Bruce Norris of the Tony-winning "Clybourne Park" fame, apart from an exceptional performance by Jeremy Schamus, the play is derivative, a poor man's (or woman's) Pinter or Albee. I was not a fan of "Clybourne Park" (been there, seen that) but I know I was in the minority so, I expect if you liked that, then "The Qualms will appeal to you as well.
Branden Jacob-Jenkins new play "Gloria" at The Vineyard Theatre is a disappointment as well. Readers of this blog will know that I was a huge fan of his play "An Octoroon" which I saw at The Soho Rep and then again at Theatre for a New Audience in Brooklyn. That play was audacious in the way it experimented with space and time and addressed race and class. "Gloria" strives for much less.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
I'm a Sucker for an Annie Baker Play
So I saw Annie Baker's "The Flick" at the Barrow Street Theatre last week and, as usual when I see one of her plays ("Circle Mirror Transformation" at Playwrites Horizons, her translation of "Uncle Vanya"at the Soho Rep), had the satisfaction of seeing exceptional theatre. The play takes place in a Massachusettes movie theatre where three employees cycle between taking tickets, selling concessions, working the projector and, for the time they are on stage, cleaning the theatre.
Rose, Sam and Avery are a sad-sacky bunch. Rose, played by Louise Krause, seems at first like a disaffected punk, all snarky and dark-humored. Matthew Mayher's Sam is in his mid-thirties has no direction in life beyond pride in his current menial job. Avery, the very fine young actor Aaron Clifton Moren, is a black college student and son of a university professer, whose psychological problems have caused him to take a hiatis from school. As a film nut with a seemingly endless store of movie trivia on tap, he propels the action of the play forward. Slowly, the characters reveal more about themselves and begin to connect as they metaphorically dance around each other.
This is one of the last remaining movie theatres in Massachusettes that actually show films on celluloid which is what has attracted Avery to work here, sweeping popcorn off the floor and scraping gum off seats. But the new owner plans to digitilize and Avery will be left rudderless once more. Small dramas are played out over the course of the three plus hours but the play is really about so much: race, class, love, longing, loss and the inevitable march of time.
"The Flick" is three hours long and the theatre is small and not air-conditioned. During much of the play there is silence on stage and what dialogue there is often fragmented as in real life. The New York Times critic Charles Isherwood makes a point in his review of saying that the play is difficult to sit through for some people; both times he saw it there were people who either walked out during the play or left at intermission. I only wish that the enormously tall, wide and fidgety man sitting in front of me had done so.
Rose, Sam and Avery are a sad-sacky bunch. Rose, played by Louise Krause, seems at first like a disaffected punk, all snarky and dark-humored. Matthew Mayher's Sam is in his mid-thirties has no direction in life beyond pride in his current menial job. Avery, the very fine young actor Aaron Clifton Moren, is a black college student and son of a university professer, whose psychological problems have caused him to take a hiatis from school. As a film nut with a seemingly endless store of movie trivia on tap, he propels the action of the play forward. Slowly, the characters reveal more about themselves and begin to connect as they metaphorically dance around each other.
This is one of the last remaining movie theatres in Massachusettes that actually show films on celluloid which is what has attracted Avery to work here, sweeping popcorn off the floor and scraping gum off seats. But the new owner plans to digitilize and Avery will be left rudderless once more. Small dramas are played out over the course of the three plus hours but the play is really about so much: race, class, love, longing, loss and the inevitable march of time.
"The Flick" is three hours long and the theatre is small and not air-conditioned. During much of the play there is silence on stage and what dialogue there is often fragmented as in real life. The New York Times critic Charles Isherwood makes a point in his review of saying that the play is difficult to sit through for some people; both times he saw it there were people who either walked out during the play or left at intermission. I only wish that the enormously tall, wide and fidgety man sitting in front of me had done so.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Putting Up My Shingle Again
Apologies for my long absence but life has been fairly chaotic recently. I'm back and had much to comment on.
April 13th was my second time at Irish Arts Center for Muldoon's Picnic. The evening kicked off with the hilarious "I Haven't Seen The Movie But I've Read The Book" performed by Paul Muldoon and the Wayside Shrines. Also on the roster were the writer and memoirist Mary Karr, Irish poet Nuala Ni Dhomhanaill and Larry Kirwan of Black 47.
Nuala Ni Dhomhanaill read her poems in Irish Gaelic paired with Muldoon's translations. Her mermaid poems are myth but such that she considers 'a basic, fundamental structuring of our (the Irish) reality, a narrative that we place on the chaos of sensation to make sense of our lives.'
Larry Kirwan read a passage about Rory Gallagher from his book "The History of Irish Music" and performed songs from "Transport," his musical about Irish women deported to Australia in 1846. But it was his story about his recent visit to a community of Irish called Red Legs who haved lived on Barbados since the 17th Century, brought there as slaves for British planters, that resonated most profoundly.
Mary Karr surprised with her rocking performance of "I Hate That Big Fat Bitch Who Had You First" which she wrote with Rodney Crowell and performed here with The Wayside Shrines.
But the unexpected visit of Larry Kirwan's 20-something son Rory (named no doubt for Rory Gallagher) performing a spoken word piece got the youth vote and was the highlight of the evening.
I look forward to many more Muldoon's picnics. They will resume in the Fall. For more information you can visit www.irishartscenter.org or follow Irish Arts Center on Facebook.
I'll be back with observations about my beloved Soho Rep's readings from their current Writer/Director Lab, a mini-review of "An American In Paris", snarky comments about the new musical "Iowa" and "The Heidi Chronicals" and much, much more.
April 13th was my second time at Irish Arts Center for Muldoon's Picnic. The evening kicked off with the hilarious "I Haven't Seen The Movie But I've Read The Book" performed by Paul Muldoon and the Wayside Shrines. Also on the roster were the writer and memoirist Mary Karr, Irish poet Nuala Ni Dhomhanaill and Larry Kirwan of Black 47.
Nuala Ni Dhomhanaill read her poems in Irish Gaelic paired with Muldoon's translations. Her mermaid poems are myth but such that she considers 'a basic, fundamental structuring of our (the Irish) reality, a narrative that we place on the chaos of sensation to make sense of our lives.'
Larry Kirwan read a passage about Rory Gallagher from his book "The History of Irish Music" and performed songs from "Transport," his musical about Irish women deported to Australia in 1846. But it was his story about his recent visit to a community of Irish called Red Legs who haved lived on Barbados since the 17th Century, brought there as slaves for British planters, that resonated most profoundly.
Mary Karr surprised with her rocking performance of "I Hate That Big Fat Bitch Who Had You First" which she wrote with Rodney Crowell and performed here with The Wayside Shrines.
But the unexpected visit of Larry Kirwan's 20-something son Rory (named no doubt for Rory Gallagher) performing a spoken word piece got the youth vote and was the highlight of the evening.
I look forward to many more Muldoon's picnics. They will resume in the Fall. For more information you can visit www.irishartscenter.org or follow Irish Arts Center on Facebook.
I'll be back with observations about my beloved Soho Rep's readings from their current Writer/Director Lab, a mini-review of "An American In Paris", snarky comments about the new musical "Iowa" and "The Heidi Chronicals" and much, much more.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
"Skylight" is Heaven
Seeing "Skylight" last week was heaven. I've been an enormous fan of the playwright David Hare since I first saw "Teeth and Smiles" in London in 1975 (with Helen Mirren, no less). A few years later, in New York, I was treated to Kate Nelligan's splendid performance in "Plenty" and, more recently, "The Vertical Hour" with Bill Nighy and Julianne Moore. I can't say that I have loved every work by Mr. Hare, the screenplay for "The Hours" being high on my list of belly-flops, but when he sticks to theatre he is in my personal canon along with Rabe, Pinter, Albee and Stoppard.
At first I thought, "Oh, no!" when Bill Nighy entered, all nervous tics and jutting angles, but Carey Mulligan grounded him with her still, solid performance. As they interacted his physical schtick fell away and we were in the moment with this couple who are forever intertwined despite the difference in their ages and political beliefs, beliefs that will never make it possible for the two to actually share a life. It's painful to watch, but oh so exhilarating.
Mulligan's performance as Kyra is magnificent. She continues in the line of fine actresses to perform Hare's work from Helen Mirren to Kate Nelligan to Blaire Brown and Julianne Moore. I had not thought she had it in her based on her performance as Nina in "The Seagull" several years ago which I found wan and dull but she has matured as a stage actress and, based on this performance, can now be considered one of the finest actresses of her generation.
Nighy is excellent once he loses his mannerisms and allows himself to become Tom. Matthew Beard, as his son Edward, in two key scenes with Mulligan, is good as well. But they owe the success of their performances to Mulligan who is fierce, smart and strong.
At first I thought, "Oh, no!" when Bill Nighy entered, all nervous tics and jutting angles, but Carey Mulligan grounded him with her still, solid performance. As they interacted his physical schtick fell away and we were in the moment with this couple who are forever intertwined despite the difference in their ages and political beliefs, beliefs that will never make it possible for the two to actually share a life. It's painful to watch, but oh so exhilarating.
Mulligan's performance as Kyra is magnificent. She continues in the line of fine actresses to perform Hare's work from Helen Mirren to Kate Nelligan to Blaire Brown and Julianne Moore. I had not thought she had it in her based on her performance as Nina in "The Seagull" several years ago which I found wan and dull but she has matured as a stage actress and, based on this performance, can now be considered one of the finest actresses of her generation.
Nighy is excellent once he loses his mannerisms and allows himself to become Tom. Matthew Beard, as his son Edward, in two key scenes with Mulligan, is good as well. But they owe the success of their performances to Mulligan who is fierce, smart and strong.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Bedlam's Twice Told "Twelfth Night"
I had the extreme pleasure of seeing Bedlam's "Twelfth Night" and its sister "What You Will" this past week. Previously I had seen Bedlam's "Hamlet" and "Sense and Sensibility." What sets this company apart, far apart, is that they perform with an extremely limited number of actors. "Hamlet" was performed by three men and one woman, "Sense and Sensibility" by about eight(I don't remember the exact number) and the current "Twelfth Night" and "What You Will" by three men and two women playing mulitiple roles and crossing gender lines to do so. Both tellings of "Twelfth Night" are delightful and completely different stylistically.
"Twelfth Night" deconstructs the play with the actors performing in their own clothes and without props aside from a long wooden table and a couple of chairs. They mingle with the audience before, during and after the performance and the telling of the play feels off-hand, almost casual. Still, the audience is propelled along by the story and the frenetic energy of the ensemble. Viola and Cesario are played in this version by Eric Tucker, the director and also one of the founders of the company. Not so strange for a man to play Viola when one considers that in Shakespeare's day the female parts were played by boys.
"What You Will" is a more conventional, although stylized, interpretation of the play. It opens with the actors, dressed entirely in white, emerging from under a large white sail (and closes with the same). For the most part the women play the female roles and the men the male although Andrus Nichols, Bedlam's co-founder who plays Olivia here, does double up as Sir Toby who, in this version, is a woman. The pacing is elegant and beautifully blocked to allow for the constant changes in character by the five actors.
The casts for both plays are completed by Edmund Lewis who interprets Malviolio in two very different ways, Tom O'Keefe who does the same with Feste, and Susannah Millonzi as Viola in "What You Will" and Olivia in "Twelfth Night."
The company does play around a bit with Shakespeare's text but to good purpose and nothing of import is missing from either performance.
The two plays run through May 2nd at the Dorothy Strelsin Theater, 312 West 36th Street. Get your tickets soon because the theatre seats less than 100 people. Their website is theatrebedlam.org.
Monday, March 30, 2015
"Wolf Hall" is Howling Good
First I read the books. Somewhat reluctantly, I admit. I was worried "Wolf Hall" and it's sequal "Bring Up The Bodies" would read like pop history but to my relief they were enthralling and historically accurate. At least I think they are. In the current (the) Paris Review there is a long and engaging interview with the author of both books, Hilary Mantel in which she claims that they are indeed. The books are narrated in the first person by Thomas Cromwell. Mantel draws us in to the story the fictional story she has created within this context and the books are hard to put down.
This past week I attended both parts of The Royal Shakespeare Company's "Wolf Hall" at the Winter Garden Theatre. Ben Miles, last seen in New York in 2009 in "The Norman Conquests" but best know on this side of the pond as the handsome, not very bright womanizer in the British sitcom "Coupling," is Cromwell.
Ben Miles is remarkable. Since the books are a kind of interior monologue, as Cromwell (or as Anne calls him "Crumwheel") he commands the stage for the entirety of the plays. Historically we know that Cromwell was a common man, the son of a blacksmith, who lifted himself up through his intelligence and shrewd business dealings to become Henry VIII's confident and chief advisor. Although Miles is not an especially large man, on stage he creates the aura of being a massive presence, both physically and intellectually. His Cromwell has the magnetism, present in the books, that draws both friends and enemies to him and the thick skin necessary to survive at court. And everyone is a little in love with him, including Henry.
The performances are all pretty perfect. Nathaniel Parker is mercurial and imposing as Henry and Lydia Leonard the most devious Anne one would want to imagine. I also especially liked Leah Brotherhead's layered and complicated Jane Seymour. But the standout in Part I is John Ramm as the self-flagulating religious scholar, and eventually Lord Chancellor, Thomas More. More loses favor with Henry at the end of Part I when he refuses to accept Anne Boleyn as Henry's queen and as a result is headless in Part II. Our loss.
But it really Ben Miles' play, as it should be.
This past week I attended both parts of The Royal Shakespeare Company's "Wolf Hall" at the Winter Garden Theatre. Ben Miles, last seen in New York in 2009 in "The Norman Conquests" but best know on this side of the pond as the handsome, not very bright womanizer in the British sitcom "Coupling," is Cromwell.
Ben Miles is remarkable. Since the books are a kind of interior monologue, as Cromwell (or as Anne calls him "Crumwheel") he commands the stage for the entirety of the plays. Historically we know that Cromwell was a common man, the son of a blacksmith, who lifted himself up through his intelligence and shrewd business dealings to become Henry VIII's confident and chief advisor. Although Miles is not an especially large man, on stage he creates the aura of being a massive presence, both physically and intellectually. His Cromwell has the magnetism, present in the books, that draws both friends and enemies to him and the thick skin necessary to survive at court. And everyone is a little in love with him, including Henry.
The performances are all pretty perfect. Nathaniel Parker is mercurial and imposing as Henry and Lydia Leonard the most devious Anne one would want to imagine. I also especially liked Leah Brotherhead's layered and complicated Jane Seymour. But the standout in Part I is John Ramm as the self-flagulating religious scholar, and eventually Lord Chancellor, Thomas More. More loses favor with Henry at the end of Part I when he refuses to accept Anne Boleyn as Henry's queen and as a result is headless in Part II. Our loss.
But it really Ben Miles' play, as it should be.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
"The Tallest Tree in the Forest"
I wish I could say that I loved "The Tallest Tree in the Forest" but I can't. I wanted to. A play about the great black actor and activist Paul Robeson, directed by Moises Kaufman, should be right up my alley. Unfortunately I do not respond well to one-man/woman shows no matter how talented the actor, in this case Daniel Beaty.
Beaty makes for a splendid Robeson. He can sing. He has a voice to match Robeson's own and the songs were pure bliss to listen to, accompanied as he is by a small group of excellent musicians on-stage throughout the two hour performance. He can act, as he proves to us as he vocally cycles through multiple characters who touched on Robeson's life. I wish he hadn't. I wish he had stuck to being Robeson and had a few other actors to play these roles. I suppose one reason for this may be that Daniel Beaty is a good deal shorter than Robeson was and, as such, this would have presented some problems in casting. But there were too many characters for him to play and it was confusing, many of them sounding too much alike.
The play is also too linear for my taste. We get the full progression of Robeson's life from boy to husband to successful actor, singer and activist and on to his old age, alone and defeated. But even with the seemingly detailed progression of his life important chunks are left out. His work with O'Neill on "All God's Chillun Got Wings" is in but not the more important "The Emperor Jones," for example.
What does work though is when he addresses Robeson's political beliefs: his journey to The Soviet Union through war-time Berlin, his appearance before the House Un-American Activities and the ambiguity of his relationship with the Soviet Union once his Jewish friends there begin to be persecuted. The moral dilemna for him is whether he can criticize the country where he, a black man, feels equal even as others are made to feel they are not. Now this is the play about Robeson I wanted to see.
Beaty makes for a splendid Robeson. He can sing. He has a voice to match Robeson's own and the songs were pure bliss to listen to, accompanied as he is by a small group of excellent musicians on-stage throughout the two hour performance. He can act, as he proves to us as he vocally cycles through multiple characters who touched on Robeson's life. I wish he hadn't. I wish he had stuck to being Robeson and had a few other actors to play these roles. I suppose one reason for this may be that Daniel Beaty is a good deal shorter than Robeson was and, as such, this would have presented some problems in casting. But there were too many characters for him to play and it was confusing, many of them sounding too much alike.
The play is also too linear for my taste. We get the full progression of Robeson's life from boy to husband to successful actor, singer and activist and on to his old age, alone and defeated. But even with the seemingly detailed progression of his life important chunks are left out. His work with O'Neill on "All God's Chillun Got Wings" is in but not the more important "The Emperor Jones," for example.
What does work though is when he addresses Robeson's political beliefs: his journey to The Soviet Union through war-time Berlin, his appearance before the House Un-American Activities and the ambiguity of his relationship with the Soviet Union once his Jewish friends there begin to be persecuted. The moral dilemna for him is whether he can criticize the country where he, a black man, feels equal even as others are made to feel they are not. Now this is the play about Robeson I wanted to see.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Muldoon's Picnic
About a week ago, on March 9th, I went to Muldoon's Picnic at the Irish Arts Center, my first event to which I was invited as a blogger! Thank you, Louise. The Picnic is the creation of Paul Muldoon, the acclaimed Irish poet who has taught at Princeton for almost three decades. He has begun staging this event several times a year at The Irish Arts Center. The upside is all the wonderful talent involved. The downside is that there is no food, kind of bad form for an event billed as a picnic!
The line-up this past Monday included the following: Paul Muldoon doing a spoken word homage to his wife's shopping habits, Muldoon's teenage son Asher and Sammy Grob performing songs from their nascent musical "Poesical the Moesical", the black poet and poetry editor of the Harvard Review Major Jackson, the band Wayside Shrines, Irish comic writer Kevin Barry, Michael Cerveris (currently appearing in the Broadway musical "Fun Home") and Loose Cattle.
The joint was packed and a rollicking time was had by all. Muldoon is a deft hand at juggling acts, including splitting the reading of Kevin Barry's comic murder mystery in 17 short chapters "Ox Mountain Death Song" into two parts, read before and after the intermission. This, for me, was the highlight of the evening. Barry is a marvelous reader and brought his odd and unusual characters to life in an audacious manner. I suggest that, in addition to seeking out his books in print("Ox Mountain Death Song" was published in the New Yorker), it would be worthwhile to hunt out podcasts because to hear him read is half the fun.
Major Jackson teaches poetry at the University of Vermont and Bennington but his poetry skips between Vermont where he teaches, Harlem where he grew up and Florida where his wife lives. His poems focus on race and sex and the human condition; his readings fluid and imbued with humor.
The songs performed from "Poesical the Moesical" were far more sophisticated than one would expect from teenagers. Asher and Sammy had a great patter going that brought to my mind the Rat Pack. They have an act that is a throwback to that time but simultaneously smart and timely.
Both bands were great fun. Ceveris and Loose Cattle have a great Cajun feel but the Princeton-based Wayside Shrines with whom Muldoon also performs are pure Hell's Kitchen Irish.
Muldoon didn't put a lot of emphasis on his own poetry, choosing to yield the spotlight to the rest of the performers more often than not but his spoken word paean to a man imprisoned in Asia for trying to satisfy his wife's designer shopping itch was hilarious.
The Irish Arts Center is west of 10th Avenue on 51st Street. The next one is scheduled for April 13th and will feature Mary Karr. Buy your tickets early. It is worth the hike.http://www.irishartscenter.org/literature/muldoons_picnic_4_13_15.html
The line-up this past Monday included the following: Paul Muldoon doing a spoken word homage to his wife's shopping habits, Muldoon's teenage son Asher and Sammy Grob performing songs from their nascent musical "Poesical the Moesical", the black poet and poetry editor of the Harvard Review Major Jackson, the band Wayside Shrines, Irish comic writer Kevin Barry, Michael Cerveris (currently appearing in the Broadway musical "Fun Home") and Loose Cattle.
The joint was packed and a rollicking time was had by all. Muldoon is a deft hand at juggling acts, including splitting the reading of Kevin Barry's comic murder mystery in 17 short chapters "Ox Mountain Death Song" into two parts, read before and after the intermission. This, for me, was the highlight of the evening. Barry is a marvelous reader and brought his odd and unusual characters to life in an audacious manner. I suggest that, in addition to seeking out his books in print("Ox Mountain Death Song" was published in the New Yorker), it would be worthwhile to hunt out podcasts because to hear him read is half the fun.
Major Jackson teaches poetry at the University of Vermont and Bennington but his poetry skips between Vermont where he teaches, Harlem where he grew up and Florida where his wife lives. His poems focus on race and sex and the human condition; his readings fluid and imbued with humor.
The songs performed from "Poesical the Moesical" were far more sophisticated than one would expect from teenagers. Asher and Sammy had a great patter going that brought to my mind the Rat Pack. They have an act that is a throwback to that time but simultaneously smart and timely.
Both bands were great fun. Ceveris and Loose Cattle have a great Cajun feel but the Princeton-based Wayside Shrines with whom Muldoon also performs are pure Hell's Kitchen Irish.
Muldoon didn't put a lot of emphasis on his own poetry, choosing to yield the spotlight to the rest of the performers more often than not but his spoken word paean to a man imprisoned in Asia for trying to satisfy his wife's designer shopping itch was hilarious.
The Irish Arts Center is west of 10th Avenue on 51st Street. The next one is scheduled for April 13th and will feature Mary Karr. Buy your tickets early. It is worth the hike.http://www.irishartscenter.org/literature/muldoons_picnic_4_13_15.html
Saturday, February 28, 2015
"Let The Right One" If You Care
I did not see either the original Swedish movie of "Let The Right One In," or the American remake retitled "Let Me In," both considered to be quite good, because I have an aversion to vampire stories. So I surprised myself by wanting to see the National Theatre of Scotland's theatrical version of the story at St. Ann's Warehouse.
The National Theatre of Scotland was established in 2006 and describes itself as being "a theatre without walls and building-free." This was used to great effect in their astounding production "Black Watch" about a Scottish Army regiment in Iraq which I saw at St. Ann's Warehouse in 2007. "Black Watch" was staged in the round with the actors moving in an out among the audience, making the realities of war all the more present and horrifying.
"Let The Right One In" is presented here in a more conventional setting. The stage is a forest of trees. Set pieces are wheeled on and off as needed but the trees remain throughout. The play has a dance-like quality and is beautiful choreographed. The trees, the snow (yes, there is snow), the various set pieces all make for props to be circled, climbed and hidden behind. One can see that it would be possible to stage the play "without walls," in a actual forest perhaps, but in the current staging at St. Ann's we never forget that we are the audience, on the outside looking in, distanced from the story.
The actors are all exceptional, the ones playing multiple roles moving in an out of character with ease. Unfortunately though, I found the story thin and predictable and even a little boring. However, if you loved the movies and if vampire stories are your thing then this might hit the spot for you.
The National Theatre of Scotland was established in 2006 and describes itself as being "a theatre without walls and building-free." This was used to great effect in their astounding production "Black Watch" about a Scottish Army regiment in Iraq which I saw at St. Ann's Warehouse in 2007. "Black Watch" was staged in the round with the actors moving in an out among the audience, making the realities of war all the more present and horrifying.
"Let The Right One In" is presented here in a more conventional setting. The stage is a forest of trees. Set pieces are wheeled on and off as needed but the trees remain throughout. The play has a dance-like quality and is beautiful choreographed. The trees, the snow (yes, there is snow), the various set pieces all make for props to be circled, climbed and hidden behind. One can see that it would be possible to stage the play "without walls," in a actual forest perhaps, but in the current staging at St. Ann's we never forget that we are the audience, on the outside looking in, distanced from the story.
The actors are all exceptional, the ones playing multiple roles moving in an out of character with ease. Unfortunately though, I found the story thin and predictable and even a little boring. However, if you loved the movies and if vampire stories are your thing then this might hit the spot for you.
Monday, February 23, 2015
"An Octoroon"
I saw Branden Jacobs-Jenkins' "An Octoroon" for the second time on Friday. My first time was April of last year at the Soho Rep in Tribeca. That theatre is a small intimate space and if you've been reading my blog you know how I love SIS's (if not, read my previous posts about "Constellations" and "The River"). It is currently being staged in partnership with Soho Rep at Theatre for a New Audience in Brooklyn which, although not a huge space, is certainly not as intimate. The only actors who remain from the original production are Amber Gray as the Octoroon and the (uncredited) playwright himself in a mysterious role.
"The Octoroon," a melodrama by the Irish actor and playwright Dion Boucicault that opened at The Winter Garden in 1859, is here adapted as a play-within-a-play by a black playwright (representing BJJ) struggling to find his muse. We watch as BJJ and Boucicault meet and argue and begin to find themselves in character in the play-within-the-play. At Theatre for a New Audience I felt something was missing in the loss of intimacy as they drew us into their fictional world but they took it to the mat in the fast-paced, deliriously-giddy second act.
"An Octoroon" also references, consciously or unconsciously, the choreographer Donald Byrd's "Minstrel Show"(which I originally saw in it's incubation period at La Mama in the 80's and whose recent reincarnation was in Seattle last year) with it's black dancers in blackface confounding stereotypes.
Here black actors are in whiteface, white actors are in blackface and "redface" and most of the actors take on muliple roles. And they are an extraordinarily talented group. There is a scene at the end of the second act in which two characters battle each other, both played by the same actor. We forget that we are watching one actor in part due to the talent of the actor(s) but also to J. David Brimmer's impeccable fight direction. And the Rabbit... What can I say? The Rabbit is one of the most mystical, magical, mysterious creations ever to be encountered on the stage.
As in all melodramas the intent is to entertain and amuse but "An Octoroon" is a serious play addressing race relations. At a time in our country when racism is bubbling up all over the country, a melodrama written over 150 years ago is current and relevant.
And bravo to Soho Rep for supporting new forms of storytelling! You will be hearing more about them in my blog in months to come.
"The Octoroon," a melodrama by the Irish actor and playwright Dion Boucicault that opened at The Winter Garden in 1859, is here adapted as a play-within-a-play by a black playwright (representing BJJ) struggling to find his muse. We watch as BJJ and Boucicault meet and argue and begin to find themselves in character in the play-within-the-play. At Theatre for a New Audience I felt something was missing in the loss of intimacy as they drew us into their fictional world but they took it to the mat in the fast-paced, deliriously-giddy second act.
"An Octoroon" also references, consciously or unconsciously, the choreographer Donald Byrd's "Minstrel Show"(which I originally saw in it's incubation period at La Mama in the 80's and whose recent reincarnation was in Seattle last year) with it's black dancers in blackface confounding stereotypes.
Here black actors are in whiteface, white actors are in blackface and "redface" and most of the actors take on muliple roles. And they are an extraordinarily talented group. There is a scene at the end of the second act in which two characters battle each other, both played by the same actor. We forget that we are watching one actor in part due to the talent of the actor(s) but also to J. David Brimmer's impeccable fight direction. And the Rabbit... What can I say? The Rabbit is one of the most mystical, magical, mysterious creations ever to be encountered on the stage.
As in all melodramas the intent is to entertain and amuse but "An Octoroon" is a serious play addressing race relations. At a time in our country when racism is bubbling up all over the country, a melodrama written over 150 years ago is current and relevant.
And bravo to Soho Rep for supporting new forms of storytelling! You will be hearing more about them in my blog in months to come.
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Final Oscar Musings
The Academy Awards are approaching. This Sunday all will be revealed. As I said in an earlier post, I don't really care who wins but here are my thoughts on selected categories:
Best Picture: "Selma"
"Selma" is definitely not going to win which is a crying shame because for me it was the best picture of the year, timely and timeless. It won't win because the publicity machine has not been behind it. I've been told by people in the business that there wasn't even much sent out in the way of screeners which was probably its death as a serious contender.
Either "Birdman" or "Boyhood" will win. I think "Birdman" is a better film but they are both deserving despite my earlier criticisms of "Boyhood." "The Grand Budapest Hotel" was a lot of fun. I always love Wes Anderson (well, except for "The Life Aquatic" which had the effect of an sleeping pill on me) but I don't think it's his best film. He should have won for "Moonlight Kingdom." I liked "The Imitation Game" but it was a little too BBC-meets-Hollywood for me. I haven't seen "Whiplash" yet and will never see "American Sniper." I'll slit my wrists if they give it "The Theory of Everything." Just saying...
Best Director: A silly category, in my opinion. Just give it to the one who directed the Best Picture. How can a film win Best Picture without the help of the Best Director?
Best Original Screenplay: "Birdman"
No contest. I mean, mounting a play of Raymond Carver's short stories on Broadway? How twisted is that? It should win for that alone.
Best Adapted Screenplay" I can't even get in the discussion. If "The Theory of Everything" can even be nominated....
Best Actress: Julianne Moore in "Alice."
I haven't even seen the film but she's always good and the rest of the field are less than impressive. While I like Felicity Jones ("The Theory of Everything") it was a supporting role and the movie was crap. The same the Rosamund Pike in "Gone Girl." Also a supporting role and a crap movie. If they can be nominated for Best Actress, why wasn't Patricia Arquette? I also didn't see Reese Witherspoon in "Wild" or Marion Cotillard in "Two Days, One Night" so maybe this isn't a category I should even be commenting on.
Best Actor: Michael Keaton in "Birdman."
Definitely the role of a lifetime. His performance was multi-layered, intelligent, funny and ADULT. Let's win one for the grown-ups.
Again, I didn't see "American Sniper" so can't comment on Bradley Cooper but I've never been overly impressed by his performances. He's always acting. I also didn't see Steve Carrell in "Foxcatcher" but, from the clips I have seen, it looks like he has a strange facial prosthetic. It's sort of like giving Nicole Kidman that nose in "The Hours." Why was it necessary? And I can't decide if Benedict Cumberbatch is a good actor or I just like looking at him. Will slit my wrists if Eddie Redmayne wins(notice a theme here?).
Best Supporting Actor: Edward Norton in "Birdman"
Edward Norton in anything. Always. Such a great actor. Should be doing O'Neill on Broadway.
Ethan Hawke is my man but I don't think he trumps Edward Norton. I didn't see "Whiplash" of course, so can't comment on J.K. Simmons but everyone is talking about his performance. I didn't see Robert Duvall's performance in "The Judge" or Mark Ruffalo's in "Foxcatcher" either. I'll bet they were both terrific. This is always a hard category.
Best Supporting Actress: Patricia Arquette, of course. Although she should have had a Best Actress Nomination.
Emma Stone is terrific in "Birdman" but noone trumps Patricia this year. Meryl Streep? Come on. All she has to do it be in a film and she's nominated. It's some sort of sick Hollywood joke. Laura Dern is always a consistantly good actress but I didn't see "Wild." Keira Knightley in "The Imitation Game"? Love her but, no, not for this one.
Best Documentary: "CitizenFour"
Is there even any question? All the other nominated docs are probably great movies but "CitizenFour" takes it to another level. It should actually have been nominated in the Best Picture category instead of Best Documentary.
Best Foreign Language Film: "Ida"
If only because I saw it and loved it. I will be seeing the others so I could change my mind but by then it will be too late.
I have a feeling though that I will be neck high in my own blood tomorrow night (promises, promises) because "The Theory of Everything" will take it home along with its star Eddie Redmayne (insufferable little twit who mugged his way through the movie) and MERYL!!! Just shoot me.
Best Picture: "Selma"
"Selma" is definitely not going to win which is a crying shame because for me it was the best picture of the year, timely and timeless. It won't win because the publicity machine has not been behind it. I've been told by people in the business that there wasn't even much sent out in the way of screeners which was probably its death as a serious contender.
Either "Birdman" or "Boyhood" will win. I think "Birdman" is a better film but they are both deserving despite my earlier criticisms of "Boyhood." "The Grand Budapest Hotel" was a lot of fun. I always love Wes Anderson (well, except for "The Life Aquatic" which had the effect of an sleeping pill on me) but I don't think it's his best film. He should have won for "Moonlight Kingdom." I liked "The Imitation Game" but it was a little too BBC-meets-Hollywood for me. I haven't seen "Whiplash" yet and will never see "American Sniper." I'll slit my wrists if they give it "The Theory of Everything." Just saying...
Best Director: A silly category, in my opinion. Just give it to the one who directed the Best Picture. How can a film win Best Picture without the help of the Best Director?
Best Original Screenplay: "Birdman"
No contest. I mean, mounting a play of Raymond Carver's short stories on Broadway? How twisted is that? It should win for that alone.
Best Adapted Screenplay" I can't even get in the discussion. If "The Theory of Everything" can even be nominated....
Best Actress: Julianne Moore in "Alice."
I haven't even seen the film but she's always good and the rest of the field are less than impressive. While I like Felicity Jones ("The Theory of Everything") it was a supporting role and the movie was crap. The same the Rosamund Pike in "Gone Girl." Also a supporting role and a crap movie. If they can be nominated for Best Actress, why wasn't Patricia Arquette? I also didn't see Reese Witherspoon in "Wild" or Marion Cotillard in "Two Days, One Night" so maybe this isn't a category I should even be commenting on.
Best Actor: Michael Keaton in "Birdman."
Definitely the role of a lifetime. His performance was multi-layered, intelligent, funny and ADULT. Let's win one for the grown-ups.
Again, I didn't see "American Sniper" so can't comment on Bradley Cooper but I've never been overly impressed by his performances. He's always acting. I also didn't see Steve Carrell in "Foxcatcher" but, from the clips I have seen, it looks like he has a strange facial prosthetic. It's sort of like giving Nicole Kidman that nose in "The Hours." Why was it necessary? And I can't decide if Benedict Cumberbatch is a good actor or I just like looking at him. Will slit my wrists if Eddie Redmayne wins(notice a theme here?).
Best Supporting Actor: Edward Norton in "Birdman"
Edward Norton in anything. Always. Such a great actor. Should be doing O'Neill on Broadway.
Ethan Hawke is my man but I don't think he trumps Edward Norton. I didn't see "Whiplash" of course, so can't comment on J.K. Simmons but everyone is talking about his performance. I didn't see Robert Duvall's performance in "The Judge" or Mark Ruffalo's in "Foxcatcher" either. I'll bet they were both terrific. This is always a hard category.
Best Supporting Actress: Patricia Arquette, of course. Although she should have had a Best Actress Nomination.
Emma Stone is terrific in "Birdman" but noone trumps Patricia this year. Meryl Streep? Come on. All she has to do it be in a film and she's nominated. It's some sort of sick Hollywood joke. Laura Dern is always a consistantly good actress but I didn't see "Wild." Keira Knightley in "The Imitation Game"? Love her but, no, not for this one.
Best Documentary: "CitizenFour"
Is there even any question? All the other nominated docs are probably great movies but "CitizenFour" takes it to another level. It should actually have been nominated in the Best Picture category instead of Best Documentary.
Best Foreign Language Film: "Ida"
If only because I saw it and loved it. I will be seeing the others so I could change my mind but by then it will be too late.
I have a feeling though that I will be neck high in my own blood tomorrow night (promises, promises) because "The Theory of Everything" will take it home along with its star Eddie Redmayne (insufferable little twit who mugged his way through the movie) and MERYL!!! Just shoot me.
Friday, February 13, 2015
I just finished watching yesterday's TimesTalk with Edward Snowden, Laura Poitras and Glenn Greenwald moderated by the late (as of last evening) great David Carr. I think everyone should watch it so I'm posting the link here: http://timestalks.com/laura-poitras-glenn-greenwald-edward-snowden.html If you watch to the end, which I expect you will, Poitras and Snowden both offer up specific ways to protect internet privacy.
In my not so humble opinion, CitizenFour is the best film of last year, perhaps of the last several years. The collective intelligence and social/moral responsibility of Edward Snowden, Laura Poitras and Glenn Greenwald is stunning.
I don't really care if it wins an Academy Award because I think the people who have seen it and who are going to see it will, whether it gets an official stamp from the Hollywood community or not. Sadly, those who were not interested before are not likely to develop an interest if it wins an Oscar. But for anyone who hasn't been able to see it in a movie theatre, it's going to air on HBO on February 23rd at 9pm.
In my not so humble opinion, CitizenFour is the best film of last year, perhaps of the last several years. The collective intelligence and social/moral responsibility of Edward Snowden, Laura Poitras and Glenn Greenwald is stunning.
I don't really care if it wins an Academy Award because I think the people who have seen it and who are going to see it will, whether it gets an official stamp from the Hollywood community or not. Sadly, those who were not interested before are not likely to develop an interest if it wins an Oscar. But for anyone who hasn't been able to see it in a movie theatre, it's going to air on HBO on February 23rd at 9pm.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
More on "Iceman"
I have been thinking a lot about "The Iceman Cometh" since I posted two days ago, specifically about who would make up the ideal cast. I keep coming back to Edward Norton who I thought of as I watched the current production. He would be an ideal Hickey. 10 or 15 years ago he would have been perfect for Parritt but he's aged and grown as an actor. I could see Mandy Patinkin as Larry. I'm not kidding. Rupert Friend as Parritt? And I can come up with a whole passel of fine young actresses to the play the "tarts" among them Betty Gilpin, Heidi Schreck and Hallie Pfeiffer. More to come...
Thursday, February 5, 2015
The Iceman Cometh or has he?
So.... I saw The Iceman Cometh, one of the great plays of our time, at BAM last night. I'm still scratching my head figuratively. Eugene O'Neill wrote grand, magnificent tragedies. For a play to be a tragedy it is necessary to have at its core a tragic hero. O'Neill's heroes are huge and have great effect and so their falls are devastating, heart-rending and soul-emptying.
I'm too young to have seen Jason Robards as Hickey in the original 1956 Circle in the Square production but I did find a couple of videos on YouTube. While I was there I checked out the Hickeys of Lee Marvin and Kevin Spacey as well. They all had the appearance of being virile and physically towering men (yes, somehow, even Spacey). Nathan Lane does not have the stature, the grandeur if you will, for the role. He bursts onstage in all his vaudevillian splendor. He's a Looney Toon animation, the hawker of sideshows at Coney Island, the best friend but not the leading man. It's impossible to see why the drunks in the Last Chance Saloon wait eagerly for his return every year, how he is able to bend them to his will or to understand the long-suffering love his wife Evelyn had for him. And so his fall is not from a great height but a stumble off a footstool.
The young anarchist on the run and fighting with his internal demons, Don Parritt, has been portrayed by the likes of Robert Redford and Jeff Bridges. Why choose an actor of diminutive stature and a ferrety look, Patrick Andrews, for this production? Parritt is not the tragic hero of the play but he is conflicted and in the context of the play his life should mean more to us than it does here. He comes to Larry, played here by Brian Dennehy with great quiet stoicism, looking for safe harbour or, at the very least, an answer to the why of his very existence. This Parritt we want to kick to the curb.
Dennehy is a large lumbering block of a man. He seems rooted to his seat for much of the play like the stump of an enormous tree. He says little but is the conscience of the play. It is he who first voices O'Neill's thematic "pipe dreams." I would have liked to see him bring more humanity to the role but the death mask that is his face in the final moments of the play is a crushing sight to behold.
Overall, I found Robert Fall's directiom to be static and flat. The other denizens of the bar are caricatures, not living, breathing human beings, even the great John Douglas Thompson as Joe. O'Neill wrote types but the material is there to make them real. I wanted to feel that I was really there, in this bar with people who had real lives before this moment and would continue to have them after even if their lives were only at the bottom of a shot glass. Instead I felt like I was watching a sit-com. Check out the YouTube videos if you want to see how it can be done.
I'm too young to have seen Jason Robards as Hickey in the original 1956 Circle in the Square production but I did find a couple of videos on YouTube. While I was there I checked out the Hickeys of Lee Marvin and Kevin Spacey as well. They all had the appearance of being virile and physically towering men (yes, somehow, even Spacey). Nathan Lane does not have the stature, the grandeur if you will, for the role. He bursts onstage in all his vaudevillian splendor. He's a Looney Toon animation, the hawker of sideshows at Coney Island, the best friend but not the leading man. It's impossible to see why the drunks in the Last Chance Saloon wait eagerly for his return every year, how he is able to bend them to his will or to understand the long-suffering love his wife Evelyn had for him. And so his fall is not from a great height but a stumble off a footstool.
The young anarchist on the run and fighting with his internal demons, Don Parritt, has been portrayed by the likes of Robert Redford and Jeff Bridges. Why choose an actor of diminutive stature and a ferrety look, Patrick Andrews, for this production? Parritt is not the tragic hero of the play but he is conflicted and in the context of the play his life should mean more to us than it does here. He comes to Larry, played here by Brian Dennehy with great quiet stoicism, looking for safe harbour or, at the very least, an answer to the why of his very existence. This Parritt we want to kick to the curb.
Dennehy is a large lumbering block of a man. He seems rooted to his seat for much of the play like the stump of an enormous tree. He says little but is the conscience of the play. It is he who first voices O'Neill's thematic "pipe dreams." I would have liked to see him bring more humanity to the role but the death mask that is his face in the final moments of the play is a crushing sight to behold.
Overall, I found Robert Fall's directiom to be static and flat. The other denizens of the bar are caricatures, not living, breathing human beings, even the great John Douglas Thompson as Joe. O'Neill wrote types but the material is there to make them real. I wanted to feel that I was really there, in this bar with people who had real lives before this moment and would continue to have them after even if their lives were only at the bottom of a shot glass. Instead I felt like I was watching a sit-com. Check out the YouTube videos if you want to see how it can be done.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Today I saw The River. What was it supposed to be about? Aside from getting to ogle Hugh Jackman's impressive physique for 85 uninterrupted minutes, I'm unclear. Jackman, the "man", is a recreational trout fisherman on a date on a river on a moonless night ...spoiler alert!... told at least twice concurrently. I'm afraid that about halfway through I began to think he was a serial killer. That would have actually given it some juice. As it was the only juice came from the lemons used to cook - for real- a trout on stage. However, I am going to try his recipe. And I now know more about trout fishing than I will ever need to know.
Jez Butterworth author of the overpraised but engrossing Jerusalem wrote it and it has the same director, Ian Rickson. I was not a fan of Mark Rylance's over-the-top emoting in that play but Hugh Jackman outdid himself trying not to match it. No singing, dancing or even a flash of Wolverine here. Cosh Jumbo's flat performance as one of the "women" did not do much to inspire me to see her in her upcoming one-woman show about Josephine Baker at the Public. I did quite like the other actress, Laura Donnelly, who brought a little quirkiness to play with her odd posture, posturing and line-reading. She can currently be seen on Starz in "Outlander" which I am now curious to see. But the best performance came from the understudy Kerry Warren who opened the show with a fresh and imaginative demonstration on how exactly to turn off our cell-phones.
Jez Butterworth author of the overpraised but engrossing Jerusalem wrote it and it has the same director, Ian Rickson. I was not a fan of Mark Rylance's over-the-top emoting in that play but Hugh Jackman outdid himself trying not to match it. No singing, dancing or even a flash of Wolverine here. Cosh Jumbo's flat performance as one of the "women" did not do much to inspire me to see her in her upcoming one-woman show about Josephine Baker at the Public. I did quite like the other actress, Laura Donnelly, who brought a little quirkiness to play with her odd posture, posturing and line-reading. She can currently be seen on Starz in "Outlander" which I am now curious to see. But the best performance came from the understudy Kerry Warren who opened the show with a fresh and imaginative demonstration on how exactly to turn off our cell-phones.
Saturday, January 17, 2015
The Academy Award Nominations and Constellations or Is This Theatre Too Big For Us?
I missed yesterday because I was musing over the Academy Award nominations trying to figure out what to make of them and what and how much I should say . I finally realized late in the evening that there was not much TO say(caps are my own to add emphasis). I don't really have a big investment in the AAs. I thought David Oyelowo was robbed though (It took me a couple of days to learn how to say his name properly and committ it to memory which I did because I wanted to be able to talk intelligently about his stunning performance in in Selma). I know I will piss readers off when I say that it was head and shoulders above Chiwetel Ejiofor's one-note performance in 12 Years a Slave. Typical and not surprising for the Academy to nominate Eddy Redmayne's uninspiring performance as Steven Hawking in a film that would have been more comfortable on the small screen. I spent much of that movie wondering what was so special about Steven Hawking as to make those around him so loyal. It wasn't the science (My stepfather, a scientist, wouldn't even watch the screener I brought out over the holidays because he dismisses Hawking as a serious scientific mind). Selma is a far superior film to 12 years a Slave. It is quiet and small and thoughtful, near-perfect in every detail (o.k. I would have liked to see less of Oprah unnecessarily popping up in every scene but since her company financed the film I'll cut her and the director some slack). 12 Years was a big Hollywood film, a feel-bad but ultimately feel-good film for white people(because after all doesn't a white man, Brad Pitt, save the day?) and ultimately a throw-back to movies like Young Mr. Lincoln. That's the kind of Hollywood film that the mostly white, mostly male Academy voters can get behind. And in not nominating Ava Duvernay the Academy missed a chance to move into the present by nominating a black woman. Ticking some other boxes here, I was not enamored of Boyhood, which, the accomplishment of filming the same boy over a period of 12 years aside, I found pedestrian aside from Patricia Arquette's magnificent and important performance. I'll root for Birdman and Michael Keaton and everyone else involved in the film although I don't think Birdman should win. Which brings me back to Selma. In this time of racial unrest we need Selma to win to pack more people into the theatres to see it. Nuff said.
On the theatre front, I saw "Constellations" on Broadway on Thursday. Ruth Wilson who won a Golden Globe for her performance in The Affair on Showtime and was magnificent in Luther with Edris Alba (another underused and underrated actor because of his blackness but hopefully the next James Bond) gave a beautifully nuanced performance as a geeky gawky Cambridge scientist in this small, intimate play. Jake Gyllenhaal was the real suprise playing the equally gg beekeeper who is in love with her. I have have always found him forgettable in his film performances with the exception of Brokeback Mountain but he got to me in "Constellations." I think his element is the stage. The play explores the multiple actions and outcomes possible in a relationship in our complex universe. As Roger Ebert would say (whose posthumous documentary was also not nominated for an Academy Award), "I give it a thumbs up." I only wish that I had seen it in the intimate setting of the Royal Court Theatre where it was first staged. The large theatre and knuckle-cracking, hearing-aid equipped audience kept me from feeling the intimacy of the play that would have enveloped me in a smaller theatre.
P.S. I would prefer that you comment in response to my opinionated rantings here on the blog and not on Facebook. Thank you.
On the theatre front, I saw "Constellations" on Broadway on Thursday. Ruth Wilson who won a Golden Globe for her performance in The Affair on Showtime and was magnificent in Luther with Edris Alba (another underused and underrated actor because of his blackness but hopefully the next James Bond) gave a beautifully nuanced performance as a geeky gawky Cambridge scientist in this small, intimate play. Jake Gyllenhaal was the real suprise playing the equally gg beekeeper who is in love with her. I have have always found him forgettable in his film performances with the exception of Brokeback Mountain but he got to me in "Constellations." I think his element is the stage. The play explores the multiple actions and outcomes possible in a relationship in our complex universe. As Roger Ebert would say (whose posthumous documentary was also not nominated for an Academy Award), "I give it a thumbs up." I only wish that I had seen it in the intimate setting of the Royal Court Theatre where it was first staged. The large theatre and knuckle-cracking, hearing-aid equipped audience kept me from feeling the intimacy of the play that would have enveloped me in a smaller theatre.
P.S. I would prefer that you comment in response to my opinionated rantings here on the blog and not on Facebook. Thank you.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Mish Mash of Albee on Broadway
One of the topics of my blog will be my mini-reviews of current theatre. My first for 2014 is "A Delicate Balance" which is currently on Broadway directed by Pam MacKinnon and starring Glenn Close, John Lithgow, Lindsay Duncan and Martha Plimpton. I will start by saying that I really appreciate a good production of Edward Albee. Recent tour de force productions have been Steppenwolf's "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" which was perfection and Signature Theatre's "The Lady From Dubuque" which was close to. I did not have great expections with respect to "A Delicate Balance" due to the star-studded cast (always a sign of disaster IMHO) but having obtained TDF tickets was willing to give it a shot. My throat was killing me so I came equiped with Nyquil, a bottle of water and a sack of mentholated cough drops all of which were necessary for this 3 hour 2 intermission play. I have never been a huge fan of Glenn Close and I anticipated an over-the-top actorish performance from her. Not so! I was actually blown away by the subtlety and delicacy of her performance. You may ask, "Can a performance in an Albee play be subtle?" Well, yes... She glided through the play hitting all the right notes and not a single diva turn among them. She perfectly embodied the part of Agnes. I have now officially joined the Glenn Close fan club. John Lithgow, I'm sorry to say, did not fare as well. He hammed his way through most of the play which is awkward considering Tobias is a weak and retreating soul. I would have liked to have seen the understated brilliance Tracy Letts would have brought to the part. Lindsay Duncan, always a consumate actress, was moving and irritating in equal measures as the alcohlic Claire. She is so chamelian like that I didn't even realize it was her until midway through the first act. I was thinking, "She's terrific. Who is that?" and then checked my program. She's certainly not looking like she did in "Birdman" although in both roles she has a drink in her hand. Unfortunately Martha Plimpton who I generally greatly admire was miscast as Julia and shrieked her way through the play. Bob Balaban gave a characture of a performance as good friend Harry possibly due to the absence at this performance of Claire Higgins as his wife Edna. I'm inclined to be kind to understudies but in this case the less said the better. The set(Santo Loquasto) and costumes (Ann Roth) were perfection with the exception of Martha Plimpton who looked like she was wearing cheap, ill-fitting knock-offs of Ralph Lauren (what happened there, Ann Roth?). But I do recommend seeing "A Delicate Balance" for Glenn Close. She will break your heart.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
This Is New For Me
Several friends have suggested I start a blog (Lisa Maria-Radano, are you out there?)so here it goes. I'm opinionated but I also think I have some good insights to offer. I worked for many years in the film industry. Before that I was an actress. I've traveled and lived in other cities in this country and abroad but ended up back in New York where I was born eventually settling in Brooklyn. I'm married to a writer/journalist/translator and we have two kids who are on their way to successful careers in the entertainment industry. After many detours including full-time parenthood and a stab at teaching ESL I am testing the waters of the theatre world and the film business once again. Hopefully this blog will help to point me toward something fulfilling.
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