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.
