Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Is it December already?
"The Wolves" excites.
"Wilderness" moves.
"A Life" illuminates.
"The Babylon Line" stagnates.
"Rancho Viejo" numbs.
"The Winter's Tale" confuses.
Try and catch The Playwrights Realm production of "The Wolves" in its limited return engagement at the Duke Theatre. The small theatre works well for the play which focuses on a suburban girls' high school soccer team. We know the girls by the numbers on their jerseys, not their names. The play is physical, visceral, pumping sweat. Everything is on the line. Some of the girls are hoping to be scouted for college soccer teams, others are trying to fill a vacuum in their lives. They struggle with bullying, bulimia, depression, unwanted pregnancy and the need to have a bond with each other. The play is written by Sarah Delappe and directed by Lila Neugebauer, both of whom were avid soccer players in their youth and was rehearsed much like a soccer practice. It shows. The team is tight, the dialogue is on target and the feelings are real.
I caught the last performance of "Wilderness" at the Abrons Arts Center. I'm glad I did. It's a shame that this nifty little play about a boot camp in the wilderness for challenged teens will not be transferring to a bigger theatre uptown. The acting by the young troupe is outstanding as is the direction of Ann Hamburger. Like "The Wolves," the play centers around teens struggling to function in the world. These teens feel isolated from their peer group and their families. The boot camp is an attempt to draw them into a circle and make them feel less alone. Well done.
"A Life" by Adam Bock at Playwrights Horizons is a story of life, death and what comes after. David Hyde Pierce, looking shockingly old for those of us who remember him from Frazier, gives a devastating performance as Nate, a middle-aged gay man. He has never been able to sustain a long term relationship. He has a boring job. It is the kind of life that is perhaps full for him but seems dull to us. Then he dies. And this is where the play gets really interesting. Most moving for me was the actual death of a sudden heart attack, at home, alone. He is not found immediately and we, the audience, watch him in the still state of death for what seems like hours although I'm sure it is only a few minutes. Nothing happens ... but it speaks volumes. It gives us time to ponder death. How final it is. And how the playwright approaches what comes after is thoughtful and somehow comforting. We watch as Nate is bathed and attended to at the funeral home with exquisite respect. We see how how his best friend and his sister grieve and get a very real glimpse of what life is like for those who remain. And Nate watches. We mourn them, not him.
Lovely.
Less lovely is "Mission Viejo," also at Playwright's Horizons about several American couples living in what appears to be a retirement community in Mexico. Written by Dan LeFranc and directed by Daniel Aukin and starring Mare Winningham and Mark Blum, "Mission Viejo" never really took off for me. The play is long, three hours long with two intermissions, which is a long time for a play in which very little happens. I mean, LeFranc is no Beckett. The dullness of the play is not helped by the creative set design which obscures from view some of the action of the play depending on where one is sitting. There's also an extraneous character, an odd young man who wanders through the action from time to time and ends up tying up one of the characters and making him watch an interpretive dance on the beach. By the end we care a bit more about the characters, but not much, not enough.
"The Babylon Line" by Richard Greenberg is just thin stuff. Under the direction by Terry Kinney, the performances by Josh Radnor and Elizabeth Reaser are stilted. And why does Reaser have a weird unexplained southern accent? I was a bit surprised at how flat the play was having been totally knocked over by Greenberg's "An American Plan" on Broadway a few years ago. You win some, you lose some.
Cheek by Jowl's "The Winter's Tale" at BAM is just a big hot mess. Not one of Shakepeare's best plays to begin with, in this production King Leontes is a psychopath. Okay ... and? The direction by Declan Donnellan is intent on making us so dizzy that we don't realize that he, the director, has not a clue what he is doing. Less said the better.
Thursday, December 1, 2016
October. So Overdue.
Let's see. It started with James Lapine and William Finn's "March of the Falsettos" in October. Then I kind of got lost in travel, the election and a bad case of the flu (or was it just the blues over the election results?).
I have a hard time tallking about musicals because I'm not a fan of the form. There are exceptions, like anything Sondheim and South Pacific but, in general, don't expect me to turn cartwheels over anything else. Case in point, the current revival of "Falsettos' which I found to be dated and thin on story. Yes, there is a story: married man leaves wife and son for another man but tries to keep the wife and son and thereby have it all. And aids enters in, of course. I find this subject a little tired at this point in time. In the years since Falsettos" debuted we have had the great Tony Kushner's "Angels in America", which has so much more depth and universality, not to mention the explosive "The Normal Heart," by aids activist Larry Kramer. Neither are musicals, but they share common themes. The minimal and cheap-feeling set by star architect David Rockwell was more what I would expect from a high school production, interconnecting cubes that were reconfigured from scene to scene on a bare stage. That said, the music and the performances are good enough to sustain the two plus hours and it's perhaps a better bet than seeing "Fiddler on the Roof" for the umpteenth time.
Another revival, David Hare's "Plenty" with Rachel Weisz at the Public, does not fare as well. I'm a huge fan of Hare. If you're a regular reader of this blog you will know how I swooned over the recent Broadway revival of "Skylight" with Carey Mulligan and Bill Nye. In 1982, "Plenty" with Kate Nelligan, also at the Public, felt profound. The story is of a resistance fighter in WW2 who carries with her the memory of a great love who she met at a hightened moment in time and then never saw again. Ultimately this romanticized memory destroys her life because it was not merely the man but the moment in time that she cannot replicate. In the current production, as directed by David Leveaux, it felt like a one-night-stand gone bad. Whatever immediacy I felt in 1982 was gone. Weisz was more Cosmo girl than Gloria Steinem. I missed the strength.
But two dance pieces at BAM delivered.
With music by Morton Feldman, Shen Wei's gorgeous painted backdrop and a libretto by Samuel Beckett, "Neither" was an evening of blissfully beautiful and controlled dance marred only by some distracting business with plastic wrap dropping from the ceiling and enveloping the dancers toward the end. The lighting by Jennifer Tipton and production design by Rocco DiSanto, both old pros, were superb but, ultimately, it's the dance. "to and fro in shadow from inner to outer shadow from impenetrable self to impenetrable unself by way of neither." - Samuel Beckett
The Belgian choreographer Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker is a big favorite of mine. Her company Rosas is forever stretching the boundaries of dance, blurring it with other artforms. In "Vortex Contemporum" her Rosas company works with Ictus, a Brussels-based contemporary music ensemble who appear on stage with the dancers. On a bare stage, save for a grand piano, dancers and musicians work off each other, music guiding dancers and dancers influencing the music. Fresh and thought-provoking, it didn't embrace me the way "En Atendant" did in 2010 or "Cesena" in 2011, both also at BAM, but it didn't leave me empty.
And, to round out October, there was Soho Rep's "Duat," an exploration of queer black identity by Daniel Alexander Jones. The first act, beautifully directed by Will Davis, tells the story of his "otherness" from boyhood to early adulthood (the very gifted Tenzin Gund Morrow and Toissaint Jeanlouis) wrapped around the library card catalogue system. I couldn't get enough of seeing the young Jones morph into the person he became. Unfortunately the second act goes bit wild and has no cohesiveness, most of the action taking place in a classroom where Jones comes out in drag as a statuesque teacher and the ensemble of actors are students who are preparing to perform as flowers. I didn't get it and wish that Jones had left well alone after the perfect act that preceded it.
So that rounds up October. Yes, October! I told you I was behind. Look my very opinionated thoughts on November in the next few days.
I have a hard time tallking about musicals because I'm not a fan of the form. There are exceptions, like anything Sondheim and South Pacific but, in general, don't expect me to turn cartwheels over anything else. Case in point, the current revival of "Falsettos' which I found to be dated and thin on story. Yes, there is a story: married man leaves wife and son for another man but tries to keep the wife and son and thereby have it all. And aids enters in, of course. I find this subject a little tired at this point in time. In the years since Falsettos" debuted we have had the great Tony Kushner's "Angels in America", which has so much more depth and universality, not to mention the explosive "The Normal Heart," by aids activist Larry Kramer. Neither are musicals, but they share common themes. The minimal and cheap-feeling set by star architect David Rockwell was more what I would expect from a high school production, interconnecting cubes that were reconfigured from scene to scene on a bare stage. That said, the music and the performances are good enough to sustain the two plus hours and it's perhaps a better bet than seeing "Fiddler on the Roof" for the umpteenth time.
Another revival, David Hare's "Plenty" with Rachel Weisz at the Public, does not fare as well. I'm a huge fan of Hare. If you're a regular reader of this blog you will know how I swooned over the recent Broadway revival of "Skylight" with Carey Mulligan and Bill Nye. In 1982, "Plenty" with Kate Nelligan, also at the Public, felt profound. The story is of a resistance fighter in WW2 who carries with her the memory of a great love who she met at a hightened moment in time and then never saw again. Ultimately this romanticized memory destroys her life because it was not merely the man but the moment in time that she cannot replicate. In the current production, as directed by David Leveaux, it felt like a one-night-stand gone bad. Whatever immediacy I felt in 1982 was gone. Weisz was more Cosmo girl than Gloria Steinem. I missed the strength.
But two dance pieces at BAM delivered.
With music by Morton Feldman, Shen Wei's gorgeous painted backdrop and a libretto by Samuel Beckett, "Neither" was an evening of blissfully beautiful and controlled dance marred only by some distracting business with plastic wrap dropping from the ceiling and enveloping the dancers toward the end. The lighting by Jennifer Tipton and production design by Rocco DiSanto, both old pros, were superb but, ultimately, it's the dance. "to and fro in shadow from inner to outer shadow from impenetrable self to impenetrable unself by way of neither." - Samuel Beckett
The Belgian choreographer Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker is a big favorite of mine. Her company Rosas is forever stretching the boundaries of dance, blurring it with other artforms. In "Vortex Contemporum" her Rosas company works with Ictus, a Brussels-based contemporary music ensemble who appear on stage with the dancers. On a bare stage, save for a grand piano, dancers and musicians work off each other, music guiding dancers and dancers influencing the music. Fresh and thought-provoking, it didn't embrace me the way "En Atendant" did in 2010 or "Cesena" in 2011, both also at BAM, but it didn't leave me empty.
And, to round out October, there was Soho Rep's "Duat," an exploration of queer black identity by Daniel Alexander Jones. The first act, beautifully directed by Will Davis, tells the story of his "otherness" from boyhood to early adulthood (the very gifted Tenzin Gund Morrow and Toissaint Jeanlouis) wrapped around the library card catalogue system. I couldn't get enough of seeing the young Jones morph into the person he became. Unfortunately the second act goes bit wild and has no cohesiveness, most of the action taking place in a classroom where Jones comes out in drag as a statuesque teacher and the ensemble of actors are students who are preparing to perform as flowers. I didn't get it and wish that Jones had left well alone after the perfect act that preceded it.
So that rounds up October. Yes, October! I told you I was behind. Look my very opinionated thoughts on November in the next few days.
Monday, October 10, 2016
Fabulousness and more.
My recent theatre-going experiences included Simon Stephens' "Heisenberg"on Broadway, Peter Brooks "Battlefield" at BAM Harvey and Neil LaBute's showcase for Judith Light, MCC's "All The Ways to Say I Love You" at the Lucille Lortel.
Let me start with Simon Stephens' "Heisenberg," the standout of the lot (sorry, Peter Brook). I haven't seen his adaptation of Mark Haddon's "A Curious Case of the Dog in the NightTime" on Broadway but I did see his Young Vic "A Doll's House" at BAM two years ago and was not impressed. "Heisenberg," though, has made me a fan. The play is sharp, fast and emotionally moving in a way that few recent Broadway or off-Broadway plays have been. The part of the unstable and needy Georgie Burns is tailored for Mary-Louise Parker. Her work is deeper and more nuanced than I have seen before in her theatrical performances and gone is the blank vacuousness that embodies many of her film roles. Her performance is alive and tactile. We feel her very nerve endings and want so hard for her to find some sort of peace. And Denis Arndt ,who comes to Broadway for the first time in his 77 years as an actor, is smart and sexy (yes!) and makes us believe the improbable chemistry between these two lonely souls. Mark Brokaw directs the play with a few minimal pieces of multipurpose furniture and stark lighting but we move easily from a London train station, to butcher shop, to flat to Hackensack, New Jersey. I say, see it while you can.
Another play tailored for a specific actor is LaBute's one-woman play "All the Ways to Say I Love You," directed by Leigh Silverman. Judith Light,whose recent Broadway performance in "Other Desert Cities" was outstanding, has the task of making a pretty standard and unoriginal play move along and hold our interest for an hour. She is wonderful but no actor could have brought this play, about a sexually frustrated and unhappy high school teacher with a secret, home. The ending has a good punchy twist but it does not excuse the dull material of the play. Plus, I admit that I spent a good deal of the play distracted by her alarming thinness and wondering if she is battling some life-threatening disease.
Lastly, "Battlefield" at the BAM Harvey is good, solid Peter Brook. It is a condensed version of "The Mahabharata" an Indian opus (here adapted by Brook's collaborator screenwriter Jean-Claude Carriere, about the nature of human existence, war and destruction, and finding inner piece. That's a lot to cover in a mere 90 minutes. In Brook's first time around with "The Mahabharata", in the mid-1980's, took up 3 1/2 hours on stage and film. Perhaps it is shorter because Brook is now 91 has discovered that less is more? The play, with superb performances by an international cast of four and the on-stage presence of the musician Toshi Tsuchitori (also a frequent Brook collaborator), still feels slow, almost sleepy with it's dark lighting and even darker performers but, like all of Brook's work, it is thoughtful and ultimately illuminating.
Let me start with Simon Stephens' "Heisenberg," the standout of the lot (sorry, Peter Brook). I haven't seen his adaptation of Mark Haddon's "A Curious Case of the Dog in the NightTime" on Broadway but I did see his Young Vic "A Doll's House" at BAM two years ago and was not impressed. "Heisenberg," though, has made me a fan. The play is sharp, fast and emotionally moving in a way that few recent Broadway or off-Broadway plays have been. The part of the unstable and needy Georgie Burns is tailored for Mary-Louise Parker. Her work is deeper and more nuanced than I have seen before in her theatrical performances and gone is the blank vacuousness that embodies many of her film roles. Her performance is alive and tactile. We feel her very nerve endings and want so hard for her to find some sort of peace. And Denis Arndt ,who comes to Broadway for the first time in his 77 years as an actor, is smart and sexy (yes!) and makes us believe the improbable chemistry between these two lonely souls. Mark Brokaw directs the play with a few minimal pieces of multipurpose furniture and stark lighting but we move easily from a London train station, to butcher shop, to flat to Hackensack, New Jersey. I say, see it while you can.
Another play tailored for a specific actor is LaBute's one-woman play "All the Ways to Say I Love You," directed by Leigh Silverman. Judith Light,whose recent Broadway performance in "Other Desert Cities" was outstanding, has the task of making a pretty standard and unoriginal play move along and hold our interest for an hour. She is wonderful but no actor could have brought this play, about a sexually frustrated and unhappy high school teacher with a secret, home. The ending has a good punchy twist but it does not excuse the dull material of the play. Plus, I admit that I spent a good deal of the play distracted by her alarming thinness and wondering if she is battling some life-threatening disease.
Lastly, "Battlefield" at the BAM Harvey is good, solid Peter Brook. It is a condensed version of "The Mahabharata" an Indian opus (here adapted by Brook's collaborator screenwriter Jean-Claude Carriere, about the nature of human existence, war and destruction, and finding inner piece. That's a lot to cover in a mere 90 minutes. In Brook's first time around with "The Mahabharata", in the mid-1980's, took up 3 1/2 hours on stage and film. Perhaps it is shorter because Brook is now 91 has discovered that less is more? The play, with superb performances by an international cast of four and the on-stage presence of the musician Toshi Tsuchitori (also a frequent Brook collaborator), still feels slow, almost sleepy with it's dark lighting and even darker performers but, like all of Brook's work, it is thoughtful and ultimately illuminating.
Saturday, September 24, 2016
The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
Three new plays.
Clubbed Thumb's "Men on Boats" by Jaclyn Backhaus at Playwrights Horizons is clever, perhaps too clever. The conceit is to have an all female cast enact the all-male expedition in 1869 to traverse the Green and Colorado Rivers in Wyoming for the first time (by the white man). I applaud the truly ensemble cast, too uniform in excellence to single just one or two, under the direction of Will Davis. The minimal set and physicality of the acting create a large space for the imagination which could have been quite magical. In this case, I found the magic lacking although I appreciated the muscle that when into the performances.
"Nat Turner in Jerusalem" at New York Theatre Workshop is a fine play but perhaps too didactic and linear. We are fed the history of the black revolutionary slave on his last night before execution and a look into the mind of Thomas Gray, the man who met with him that night and wrote "The Confessions of Nat Turner," which has become required reading in many American high schools. But that's just it. I felt the play, directed by Megan Sandberg-Zakian, was a history lesson rather than a theatrical experience. In an effort to break up the static nature of the play, 90 minutes in a cell, the footprint of the cell is moved incrementally across the stage but this is also static. We wait for the next move, 20 feet along, each time the lights are dimmed between scenes. Philip James Brannon and Rowan Vickers, however, are extraordinarily good as Turner and Gray. I wished for them to have a more adventurous play to act in.
"Phaedra(s)" at the BAM Harvey is a long bewildering mess saved only by the exquisite performance(s) of Isabelle Huppert. I would like to leave it at that but I'll plunge onward. Directed by Krzysztof Warlikowski, the three different versions are "after" (as stated in the program) the plays of Sarah Kane, J.M. Coetzee and Wajdi Mouawad. The first of the three "Phaedra"'s in the work of the Lebanese-born, French-bred Wajdi Mouawad. Just a mess. Why and to what purpose the androgynous Arab go-go dancer? It sucked the air out of the room and went on and on and on to no purpose in service of the story. We could have been spared at least 30 minutes of the exhausting 3 1/2 hour play by eliminating her (him?). For that matter, why the Arabic song that opens the play and goes on interminably? Oh, never mind... Huppert appears first as a very campy Aphrodite before transitioning into Phaedra where she spends almost the entirety of the action of the play writhing about on a bed in the center of the stage with a bloody crotch. You get the idea. The second is by the talented British playwright Sarah Kane whose brilliant "4:48 Psychosis" Huppert performed at BAM ten years ago and who, like Phaedra herself, committed suicide by hanging. This version of the Phaedra story is the most cohesive but a bit leaden. The final Phaedra is realized by the novelist J.M. Coetzee. Huppert is presented as the Australian writer Elizabeth Costello who has come to where(?) to deliver a lecture on the subject of Eros. This version, coming at the end, is the lightest and Huppert is wonderful as the scatty intellectual who pings and pongs all over the subject and finally enacts a scene from Racine's great interpretation of Phaedra. It's beautiful. Oh, to have seen this "Phaedra" in it's entirety instead of this ratty batch of imposters.
Clubbed Thumb's "Men on Boats" by Jaclyn Backhaus at Playwrights Horizons is clever, perhaps too clever. The conceit is to have an all female cast enact the all-male expedition in 1869 to traverse the Green and Colorado Rivers in Wyoming for the first time (by the white man). I applaud the truly ensemble cast, too uniform in excellence to single just one or two, under the direction of Will Davis. The minimal set and physicality of the acting create a large space for the imagination which could have been quite magical. In this case, I found the magic lacking although I appreciated the muscle that when into the performances.
"Nat Turner in Jerusalem" at New York Theatre Workshop is a fine play but perhaps too didactic and linear. We are fed the history of the black revolutionary slave on his last night before execution and a look into the mind of Thomas Gray, the man who met with him that night and wrote "The Confessions of Nat Turner," which has become required reading in many American high schools. But that's just it. I felt the play, directed by Megan Sandberg-Zakian, was a history lesson rather than a theatrical experience. In an effort to break up the static nature of the play, 90 minutes in a cell, the footprint of the cell is moved incrementally across the stage but this is also static. We wait for the next move, 20 feet along, each time the lights are dimmed between scenes. Philip James Brannon and Rowan Vickers, however, are extraordinarily good as Turner and Gray. I wished for them to have a more adventurous play to act in.
"Phaedra(s)" at the BAM Harvey is a long bewildering mess saved only by the exquisite performance(s) of Isabelle Huppert. I would like to leave it at that but I'll plunge onward. Directed by Krzysztof Warlikowski, the three different versions are "after" (as stated in the program) the plays of Sarah Kane, J.M. Coetzee and Wajdi Mouawad. The first of the three "Phaedra"'s in the work of the Lebanese-born, French-bred Wajdi Mouawad. Just a mess. Why and to what purpose the androgynous Arab go-go dancer? It sucked the air out of the room and went on and on and on to no purpose in service of the story. We could have been spared at least 30 minutes of the exhausting 3 1/2 hour play by eliminating her (him?). For that matter, why the Arabic song that opens the play and goes on interminably? Oh, never mind... Huppert appears first as a very campy Aphrodite before transitioning into Phaedra where she spends almost the entirety of the action of the play writhing about on a bed in the center of the stage with a bloody crotch. You get the idea. The second is by the talented British playwright Sarah Kane whose brilliant "4:48 Psychosis" Huppert performed at BAM ten years ago and who, like Phaedra herself, committed suicide by hanging. This version of the Phaedra story is the most cohesive but a bit leaden. The final Phaedra is realized by the novelist J.M. Coetzee. Huppert is presented as the Australian writer Elizabeth Costello who has come to where(?) to deliver a lecture on the subject of Eros. This version, coming at the end, is the lightest and Huppert is wonderful as the scatty intellectual who pings and pongs all over the subject and finally enacts a scene from Racine's great interpretation of Phaedra. It's beautiful. Oh, to have seen this "Phaedra" in it's entirety instead of this ratty batch of imposters.
Thursday, August 4, 2016
Shakespeare, More Shakespeare and some Small Mouth Sounds
Lisa Wolpe is a gender-bending Shakespearean actress. Her one-person show "Shakespeare and the Alchemy of Gender," currently running in repertoire with her three-person condensed "Macbeth" at Here on Dominick Street in Lower Manhattan, is an ode to her father, Hans Max Joachim Wolpe, a Holocaust survivor and war hero born in Berlin who fought the Nazis with Canadian Winnipeg Rifles and committed suicide when she was 4. It is interspersed with monologues from the different Shakespearean roles she has played that resonate with her journey to contextualize how she was able to develop empathy for her dad and ultimately for herself. She takes us on a fascinating hour-long journey into her mind and we come away not only with an understanding of the complex person she is but perhaps even a greater appreciation of Shakespeare.
"Macbeth3" is a mad dash through the play we shall not name. With three actors, she manages to create an enormous cast of characters and. Wolpe herself is Macbeth but she also appears as one of the witches. Nick Salomone is delightfully unctuous as Lady Macbeth and as Satan is the embodiment of evil, imaginary flames seemingly licking his buff body. And Mary Hodges brilliantly shifts back and forth between a multitude of roles, Banquo, Duncan, MacDuff and, perhaps most exquisitely, the Porter. The set is a scrap yard which seems somehow to make complete sense.
After all that talk, it was almost a relief to switch off the noise for the revival of "Small Mouth Sounds" currently running at Signature Theatre. Ironically "Small Mouth Sounds" from the playwright and actress Bess Wohl began at Here as well. Directed by Rachel Chavkin, who most recently directed"Hadestown" at NYTW, it has a cast that includes Quincy Tyler Bernstine ("10 out of 12") and Zoe Winters ("An Octoroon," "Red Speedo"). The six characters are attending a weekend retreat at an Ashram somewhere in New England. The catch is that they must be silent. Over the course of the two hour play, they expose themselves to each other and to the audience without much verbal interaction so that by the end we feel we know them and their stories better than if they had been able to speak. Although entertaining, engaging, well-acted and well-directed, it felt contrived and never dipped too far below the surface. Wohl doesn't take us on the emotional journey that Clare Barron ("You Got Older"), Anne Washburn ("10 out of 12") or Annie Baker ("The Flick") have been able to. In other words, though delightful, it didn't leave with me anything to chew on.
"Macbeth3" is a mad dash through the play we shall not name. With three actors, she manages to create an enormous cast of characters and. Wolpe herself is Macbeth but she also appears as one of the witches. Nick Salomone is delightfully unctuous as Lady Macbeth and as Satan is the embodiment of evil, imaginary flames seemingly licking his buff body. And Mary Hodges brilliantly shifts back and forth between a multitude of roles, Banquo, Duncan, MacDuff and, perhaps most exquisitely, the Porter. The set is a scrap yard which seems somehow to make complete sense.
After all that talk, it was almost a relief to switch off the noise for the revival of "Small Mouth Sounds" currently running at Signature Theatre. Ironically "Small Mouth Sounds" from the playwright and actress Bess Wohl began at Here as well. Directed by Rachel Chavkin, who most recently directed"Hadestown" at NYTW, it has a cast that includes Quincy Tyler Bernstine ("10 out of 12") and Zoe Winters ("An Octoroon," "Red Speedo"). The six characters are attending a weekend retreat at an Ashram somewhere in New England. The catch is that they must be silent. Over the course of the two hour play, they expose themselves to each other and to the audience without much verbal interaction so that by the end we feel we know them and their stories better than if they had been able to speak. Although entertaining, engaging, well-acted and well-directed, it felt contrived and never dipped too far below the surface. Wohl doesn't take us on the emotional journey that Clare Barron ("You Got Older"), Anne Washburn ("10 out of 12") or Annie Baker ("The Flick") have been able to. In other words, though delightful, it didn't leave with me anything to chew on.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
I have seen "A Midsummer Night's Dream" more times than I can remember but each time brings something fresh. The New York Classic Theatre's production which I saw this year in Carl Schurtz Park on the far Upper East Side delights. The company does stellar productions of Shakespeare and occasionally other classics each summer in various parks around Manhattan and Brooklyn. The conceit is that we, the audience, must move with the action from spot to spot in the park. The most engaging aspect of this particular production are the "rude mechanicals" led by Nick Salamone's Peter Quince who are enlisted by Duke Theseus(the excellent Clay Storseth) to put on a production of "Pyramus and Thisbe," in particular Ian Gould who plays Bottom with enormous flair. Another device in this production which works to great effect is having the mechanicals double as Titania's creep steam punk fairies. But the highlight of the production was Montgomery Sutton as Francis Flute performing Thisbe with enormous, and I mean truly enormous, balloon breasts that prevented movement. I thought I would burst my appendix laughing. On the negative side, I could have done without the seemingly arbitrary passages of the play that were set to music and Matt Mundy's Puck was a bit ADD for my taste. But all in all a very pleasing evening with the Bard.
On the flip side, "Coriolanus" at The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey on the Drew University campus was a disappointment. The production design, to begin with, was a mess, a mash up of everything from cheap Liberace suits to bathrobes with epaulettes standing in for military attire. What were they thinking? Well, I know what they were thinking because I stayed for the Q&A with actors. They seemed to think that this made the productions "timeless." Hmmmm... The acting overall was quite good although I detest the casting of women in men's roles unless that is the intention of the production as in Phyllida Law's recent all female productions of "Henry VI" and " The Taming of the Shrew". I find it distracting and it changes the tenor of the scenes. I must give a nod to Jacqueline Antaramian who was especially fine as Volumnia, the helicopter mother of Caius Martius Coriolanus. Greg Derelian is a very good actor but as Caius Martiuis he looked too much like a character out of the "The Sopranos" for me to take him seriously. Perhaps if the costumes had not been so ridiculous ....
"Privacy" by James Graham at the Public Theatre, is a bit of fluff about the invasion of privacy in the age of the internet, initially brought to our attention by the Edward Snowden who himself appears briefly on a screen at the end of the play. I think anyone who was shocked by the "revelations" in the play probably has not been following the news since Snowden became the most famous whistleblower in the world and most definitely has not see "Citizen Four" which shocked socks off anyone who saw it. No, the subject matter of this play not longer has the power to be shocking but, as directed by Josie Rourke with a cast that includes Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter fame, Rachel Dratch late of SNL and many many many Amazon boxes, it is charming and extremely good fun.
On the flip side, "Coriolanus" at The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey on the Drew University campus was a disappointment. The production design, to begin with, was a mess, a mash up of everything from cheap Liberace suits to bathrobes with epaulettes standing in for military attire. What were they thinking? Well, I know what they were thinking because I stayed for the Q&A with actors. They seemed to think that this made the productions "timeless." Hmmmm... The acting overall was quite good although I detest the casting of women in men's roles unless that is the intention of the production as in Phyllida Law's recent all female productions of "Henry VI" and " The Taming of the Shrew". I find it distracting and it changes the tenor of the scenes. I must give a nod to Jacqueline Antaramian who was especially fine as Volumnia, the helicopter mother of Caius Martius Coriolanus. Greg Derelian is a very good actor but as Caius Martiuis he looked too much like a character out of the "The Sopranos" for me to take him seriously. Perhaps if the costumes had not been so ridiculous ....
"Privacy" by James Graham at the Public Theatre, is a bit of fluff about the invasion of privacy in the age of the internet, initially brought to our attention by the Edward Snowden who himself appears briefly on a screen at the end of the play. I think anyone who was shocked by the "revelations" in the play probably has not been following the news since Snowden became the most famous whistleblower in the world and most definitely has not see "Citizen Four" which shocked socks off anyone who saw it. No, the subject matter of this play not longer has the power to be shocking but, as directed by Josie Rourke with a cast that includes Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter fame, Rachel Dratch late of SNL and many many many Amazon boxes, it is charming and extremely good fun.
Friday, June 3, 2016
Misogyny turned upside down and going Incognito
The current production of "The Taming of the Shrew" at the Delacorte Theatre directed by Phyllida Lloyd is a curious one. In her attempt to stand the play's obvious misogyny on it's head and make it relevant for today's audience, she had cast an all female version. Unfortunately, "Shrew" is not as successful as her also all female "Henry VI" set in a women's prison in Scotland. That production had gravitas. Her "Shrew" is a bauble. There is a fine performance by Janet McTeer a Petrucio but for the most part the performances feel thrown off and slight. The best aspect of the production has nothing to do with Shakespeare at all. Lloyd frames the play with a beauty pageant hosted by Donald Trump. Kate and Bianca are contestants, of course. Then, interspersed with the action of the play, are vignettes delivered by a stand-up comic. The humor is sexist but, delivered by a woman dressed as a man, is actually mocking the current climate of sexism and misogyny of Trump's campaign. Unfortunately, during the performance I attended, there were disgruntled audience members who shouted angrily at the comic with cries of "Misogyny!" I guess they didn't get the joke.
"Incognito" at Manhattan Theatre Club is another effort from Nick Payne who wrote the excellent "Constellations." Again he incorporates the physics of time and place into a play, but this time about the brain: memory, loss of, and the actual brain of Einstein. Directed by Doug Hughes, the play asks a lot of questions: Why would a man married for 30 years murder his wife in his sleep? How can a person not remember from one moment to the next? Does the study of a human brain give us an information that we can play forward? The answer to all these questions is simply that we do not know, that we may never know. "Incognito," while thought-provoking and entertaining, doesn't have the focus of "Constellations," a two character play that applied string theory and quantum mechanics to endlessly fragment and refract the story of a relationship. Jack Gyllenhaal and Ruth Wilson's performances in that play were exquisite and more powerful than those of the current crop, with the exception of Charlie Cox who brilliantly embodies several characters over the course of the play including Henry, an amnesiac who remembers and longs for his wife Margaret but can't remember that he has seen her a moment before. Heather Lind, Morgan Spector and Geneva Carr each slip in an out of various American and British accents effortlessly but I had a hard time keeping track of their various story lines. The play is "brain" food though and I recommend the 85 minutes in the dark.
http://nyti.ms/25fR3U3
"Incognito" at Manhattan Theatre Club is another effort from Nick Payne who wrote the excellent "Constellations." Again he incorporates the physics of time and place into a play, but this time about the brain: memory, loss of, and the actual brain of Einstein. Directed by Doug Hughes, the play asks a lot of questions: Why would a man married for 30 years murder his wife in his sleep? How can a person not remember from one moment to the next? Does the study of a human brain give us an information that we can play forward? The answer to all these questions is simply that we do not know, that we may never know. "Incognito," while thought-provoking and entertaining, doesn't have the focus of "Constellations," a two character play that applied string theory and quantum mechanics to endlessly fragment and refract the story of a relationship. Jack Gyllenhaal and Ruth Wilson's performances in that play were exquisite and more powerful than those of the current crop, with the exception of Charlie Cox who brilliantly embodies several characters over the course of the play including Henry, an amnesiac who remembers and longs for his wife Margaret but can't remember that he has seen her a moment before. Heather Lind, Morgan Spector and Geneva Carr each slip in an out of various American and British accents effortlessly but I had a hard time keeping track of their various story lines. The play is "brain" food though and I recommend the 85 minutes in the dark.
http://nyti.ms/25fR3U3
Friday, May 27, 2016
A Tale of Two Plays
"It was the best of times; it was the worst of times."
I didn't expect to enjoy the new play "Indian Summer" at Playwrights Horizons as much as I did. I have been disappointed in their much touted productions by the current batch of hot young playwrights specifically Lucas Hnath's "The Christians," Anne Washburn's" Antlia Pneumatica" and Bruce Norris's "The Qualms." Smartly directed by Carolyn Cantor, the Gregory S. Moss play takes place in the Newburyport, Massachusetts, a summer beach destination for the middle class from New York and Boston. It revolves around the relationships between Daniel, a 16 year old misanthrope, who has been dumped by his mother with his quirky step-grandfather for the summer, and a local girl named Izzy. Daniel is played with great depth by Owen Campbell and Elise Kibler as the shrill townie Izzy is a revelation, shedding layers of her brittle onion skin to create a fully nuanced portrait of a young woman caught between the life she knows and her dreams. Izzy shakes the adolescent Daniel out of his loneliness and misanthropy and he discovers love. Jonathan Hadary is entertaining as Daniel's widowed step-grandfather George but his character is really a device to frame and move along the play. And Joe Tippet as Jeremy, Izzy's doltish boyfriend, provides comic relief. Don't expect Pinter or Albee (I know, I know, "Shut up already about Pinter and Albee.") but if you want an evening of light entertainment this is an option.
Unfortunately, it was a battle to make it through the first act of Branden Jacobs-Jenkins "War" at Lincoln Center's Claire Tow Theatre. "An Octoroon" at Soho was a brilliant theatrical experience but he has since disappointed with "Gloria" at the Vinyard theatre but which was, at least, watchable. Directed by Lileana Blain-Cruz, she of the dreadful "Revolt, She Said" at Soho Rep this Spring and "Red Speedo" at NYTW, the play is formulaic, dull and not enhanced by the monologues spoken directly to the audience by the coma-induced central character while the other actors crawl ape-like around the stage. Given that the playwright is "brown" and that at least one of the ape-approximators is a white actor, I guess I am not allowed to call this out at racist, but still... I don't want to do the actors the disservice of naming them as I think it would be best that they move on without this blemish on their resumes. Needless to say, even after a second glass of cheap pino grigio at intermission, I did not have the resolve to return for the second act.
Have I mentioned the lovely staged reading I saw of "Letters to Sala" at the Museum of Jewish Heritage? The play by Arlene Hutton is based on the book "Sala's Gift" by Ann Kirshner (spoiler alert: Sala's daughter) and is a stage enactment of letters that Sala received and saved while in various work camps during the Holocaust. The reading was well directed by Eric Nightengale and beautifully acted by a large cast. Sala who is well into her 90's is still alive. Keep your eye out for a future production.
Upcoming: Irish Arts Center will present a Pen, Paper, and Palate event "Eating for Health, Love, Sex, and Death" on May 31st at The Half King. There will be an esteemed panel of writers including Joel Salatin (on health), Paula Butturini (on love), Giulia Melucci (on sex), and Jon McGoran (on death), moderated by Bill Yosses, the former White House Executive Pastry Chef. And on June 7th William Doyle will read from PT 109: An American Epic of War, Survival, and the Destiny of John F. Kennedy at Irish Arts Center. This is the paperback launch of his book, originally published in October 2015. For more info and tickets go to www.irishartscenter.org/.
I didn't expect to enjoy the new play "Indian Summer" at Playwrights Horizons as much as I did. I have been disappointed in their much touted productions by the current batch of hot young playwrights specifically Lucas Hnath's "The Christians," Anne Washburn's" Antlia Pneumatica" and Bruce Norris's "The Qualms." Smartly directed by Carolyn Cantor, the Gregory S. Moss play takes place in the Newburyport, Massachusetts, a summer beach destination for the middle class from New York and Boston. It revolves around the relationships between Daniel, a 16 year old misanthrope, who has been dumped by his mother with his quirky step-grandfather for the summer, and a local girl named Izzy. Daniel is played with great depth by Owen Campbell and Elise Kibler as the shrill townie Izzy is a revelation, shedding layers of her brittle onion skin to create a fully nuanced portrait of a young woman caught between the life she knows and her dreams. Izzy shakes the adolescent Daniel out of his loneliness and misanthropy and he discovers love. Jonathan Hadary is entertaining as Daniel's widowed step-grandfather George but his character is really a device to frame and move along the play. And Joe Tippet as Jeremy, Izzy's doltish boyfriend, provides comic relief. Don't expect Pinter or Albee (I know, I know, "Shut up already about Pinter and Albee.") but if you want an evening of light entertainment this is an option.
Unfortunately, it was a battle to make it through the first act of Branden Jacobs-Jenkins "War" at Lincoln Center's Claire Tow Theatre. "An Octoroon" at Soho was a brilliant theatrical experience but he has since disappointed with "Gloria" at the Vinyard theatre but which was, at least, watchable. Directed by Lileana Blain-Cruz, she of the dreadful "Revolt, She Said" at Soho Rep this Spring and "Red Speedo" at NYTW, the play is formulaic, dull and not enhanced by the monologues spoken directly to the audience by the coma-induced central character while the other actors crawl ape-like around the stage. Given that the playwright is "brown" and that at least one of the ape-approximators is a white actor, I guess I am not allowed to call this out at racist, but still... I don't want to do the actors the disservice of naming them as I think it would be best that they move on without this blemish on their resumes. Needless to say, even after a second glass of cheap pino grigio at intermission, I did not have the resolve to return for the second act.
Have I mentioned the lovely staged reading I saw of "Letters to Sala" at the Museum of Jewish Heritage? The play by Arlene Hutton is based on the book "Sala's Gift" by Ann Kirshner (spoiler alert: Sala's daughter) and is a stage enactment of letters that Sala received and saved while in various work camps during the Holocaust. The reading was well directed by Eric Nightengale and beautifully acted by a large cast. Sala who is well into her 90's is still alive. Keep your eye out for a future production.
Upcoming: Irish Arts Center will present a Pen, Paper, and Palate event "Eating for Health, Love, Sex, and Death" on May 31st at The Half King. There will be an esteemed panel of writers including Joel Salatin (on health), Paula Butturini (on love), Giulia Melucci (on sex), and Jon McGoran (on death), moderated by Bill Yosses, the former White House Executive Pastry Chef. And on June 7th William Doyle will read from PT 109: An American Epic of War, Survival, and the Destiny of John F. Kennedy at Irish Arts Center. This is the paperback launch of his book, originally published in October 2015. For more info and tickets go to www.irishartscenter.org/.
Monday, May 9, 2016
Blood, Sweat and Tears
"American Psycho," based on the 25 year old best seller by Bret Easton Ellis, and directed by Rubert Goold whose most recent works on Broadway were "King Charles III" and "Enron," is one of the most joyously campy Broadway productions I have ever seen. I last saw Benjamin Walker in "Bloody, Bloody Andrew Jackson" at The Public where his beefy physique matched Jackson's grab-life-by-tail persona. Here he has toned up and is all sharp edges. The psychotic Patrick Bateman is about as far removed from the lusty young bounder Andrew Jackson as one can get. Bateman is a serial killer disguised by day as a metrosexual Wall Street trader. He is directionless, unhappy and, ultimately, empty. The only way he can feel anything is in the act of killing. The music by Duncan Sheik relies heavily on 90's dance music and the sets by Es Devlin (thankfully there is no rotating set here, something she has a penchant for) have the antiseptic feel of a high end minimalist hotel. The play is bloody, of course, and there are several entertaining performances but really the show is all Benjamin Walker who we can't tear our eyes off of.
Gillian Anderson is "A Streetcar Names Desire." Apart from her performance everything else falls away. The production is not helped by the distracting slowly revolving stage which made me think that the set design was once again by Es Devlin who used this device in the recent "A Doll House" at BAM and "Machinal" on Broadway. But no, this time we have Magda Willi to thank. The Young Vic production is directed by Benedict Andrews who brought the stunning production of "The Maids" with Isabelle Huppert and Cate Blanchett to the Lincoln Center Festival last summer. Gillian Anderson certainly has the chops to play the doomed and tragic Blanche. This Blanche is beautiful and fierce, aware that she is self-deluding until the moment she loses everything. The other performances, which I found decent but workmanlike, faded into the revolving woodwork. Ben Foster's much touted literally apelike performance of Stanley hardly compares with Brando's memorable turn on screen (and on stage too, I expect). He lacks the sex-appeal that makes us understand why Stella is so drawn to him and there was little real chemistry between him and Vanessa Kirby as Stella who is missing the earthiness of Kim Hunter. Corey Johnson as Mitch was more effecting but I can never get Karl Malden out of my head. But "Stop the set! I want to get off."
The delightful new Anais Mitchell musical "Hadestown" at New York Theatre Workshop is a hot ticket. I can see it going on to a lengthier run and becoming a moneymaker for NYTW. "Hadestown" was originally an album by Ms. Mitchell. I was there on opening night and the audience was packed with beautiful young people, presumably actors, who seemed to know all the words. The direction by Rachel Chavkin ("Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812" and "Small Mouth Sounds") was precise and perfect. This tale of Orpheus and Eurydice could easily have been reduced to a sloppy "Godspell" wanna-be but it is tighter, deeper. I cannot single out a performance because they all were excellent. Damon Daunno as Orpheus has a voice so similar to the late Jeff Buckley's that it's chilling and the Brazilian actress Nabiyah Be as Eurydice may just be one of then most stunningly beautiful performers to grace the New York stage. The chorus of singer/musicians, Lulu Fall, Shaina Taub and Jessie Shelton, all of whom I have seen recently off-Broadway in different productions, form a wonderful musical coven, each unique in her own way. The voice of Patrick Page is a low rumble like the underworld Hades he is named for and it was delicious to see Amber Gray after her turn as the lead in Branden Jacob-Jenkins' "An Octoroon" here as Persephone. But Chris Sullivan's Hermes comes close to stealing the night as he prances around the stage, leading the unlucky lovers to their fate. He is the emcee to end all emcees. If you don't know the album, I suggest you get it as that will be easier than getting a ticket to the show. Watch out "Hamilton!"
Gillian Anderson is "A Streetcar Names Desire." Apart from her performance everything else falls away. The production is not helped by the distracting slowly revolving stage which made me think that the set design was once again by Es Devlin who used this device in the recent "A Doll House" at BAM and "Machinal" on Broadway. But no, this time we have Magda Willi to thank. The Young Vic production is directed by Benedict Andrews who brought the stunning production of "The Maids" with Isabelle Huppert and Cate Blanchett to the Lincoln Center Festival last summer. Gillian Anderson certainly has the chops to play the doomed and tragic Blanche. This Blanche is beautiful and fierce, aware that she is self-deluding until the moment she loses everything. The other performances, which I found decent but workmanlike, faded into the revolving woodwork. Ben Foster's much touted literally apelike performance of Stanley hardly compares with Brando's memorable turn on screen (and on stage too, I expect). He lacks the sex-appeal that makes us understand why Stella is so drawn to him and there was little real chemistry between him and Vanessa Kirby as Stella who is missing the earthiness of Kim Hunter. Corey Johnson as Mitch was more effecting but I can never get Karl Malden out of my head. But "Stop the set! I want to get off."
The delightful new Anais Mitchell musical "Hadestown" at New York Theatre Workshop is a hot ticket. I can see it going on to a lengthier run and becoming a moneymaker for NYTW. "Hadestown" was originally an album by Ms. Mitchell. I was there on opening night and the audience was packed with beautiful young people, presumably actors, who seemed to know all the words. The direction by Rachel Chavkin ("Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812" and "Small Mouth Sounds") was precise and perfect. This tale of Orpheus and Eurydice could easily have been reduced to a sloppy "Godspell" wanna-be but it is tighter, deeper. I cannot single out a performance because they all were excellent. Damon Daunno as Orpheus has a voice so similar to the late Jeff Buckley's that it's chilling and the Brazilian actress Nabiyah Be as Eurydice may just be one of then most stunningly beautiful performers to grace the New York stage. The chorus of singer/musicians, Lulu Fall, Shaina Taub and Jessie Shelton, all of whom I have seen recently off-Broadway in different productions, form a wonderful musical coven, each unique in her own way. The voice of Patrick Page is a low rumble like the underworld Hades he is named for and it was delicious to see Amber Gray after her turn as the lead in Branden Jacob-Jenkins' "An Octoroon" here as Persephone. But Chris Sullivan's Hermes comes close to stealing the night as he prances around the stage, leading the unlucky lovers to their fate. He is the emcee to end all emcees. If you don't know the album, I suggest you get it as that will be easier than getting a ticket to the show. Watch out "Hamilton!"
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Thrilling Heights and Disappointments
I had the real pleasure to see David Tennant exercise his acting muscle as "Richard II" at BAM last week. Those of you who know him only from his stint as the 7th(?) "Dr. Who" and/or the widely acclaimed but somewhat disappointing British and American versions of "Broadchurch" on television, would have been amazed to see his transformation into probably the nuttiest king in the Shakespeare History plays. He devastates. Is that a verb? We watch as he morphs from a spoiled foppish king to one, who at his death, might have been a real power. When, upon his return from battles in Ireland, he finds has been conquered by his cousin, the future Henry IV, he realizes for perhaps the first time that he is mortal: "For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings..."
Alex Hassell was excellent as well as the young king in "Henry V" although the play is all battle and not to everyone's taste. Henry V was the human king as opposed to Richard II's spoiled popinjay and Henry VI's brutish conqueror. In "Henry VI" parts 1 and 2 (which I did not see this time around having just seen Harriet Walter in Phyllida Lloyd's inventive all-female production at Saint Ann's Warehouse) Prince Hal matures from a feckless boy to the king he will become in "Henry V." He was the people's king and we finally get a taste of this in "Henry V" when he visits his dispirited men on the eve of the Battle of Agincourt in disguise. He brings with him "a little touch of Harry in the night" and it is enough to lift them up to win one of the great military battles in English History.
Both productions from the RSC are well if not exactly imaginatively directed by Gregory Doran and the performances were all excellent except for a few scenes with a mumbling Jane Lapotaire as Queen Isobel in "Henry V" who unfortunately seems past her sell-by date. She fared slightly better as the Duchess of Gloucester in "Richard II." Oliver Ford Davies was a curious but fine Chorus in "Henry V" shambling on an off the stage in professorial gear, a baggy sweater and glasses, which was not in keeping with the otherwise period aspect of the play. And I did quite enjoy the Elizabethan music that framed both plays, especially the three Sopranos in "Richard II."
On a low note, Anne Washburn's "Antlia Pneumatica" (literally "Air Pump", don't ask) at Playwright's Horizons was a disappointment. Washburn's "10 Out of 12" at Soho Rep was one of my top three favorite plays last year. Unfortunately "Antlia Pneumatica," friends gathering at a country house to memorialize a dead friend as in "The Big Chill," seemed directionless. I enjoyed the first half of the play because her characters are always so unique and wonderful and her dialogue is snappy but the play went nowhere really and the ending, or lack thereof, left the audience confused. Perhaps that was her intention but for the purposes of this play it didn't cut it. The performances were mostly excellent, especially Annie Parisse as Nina, but Rob Campbell as Adrian, her one-time lover, wasn't able to deliver on the charisma that his character required. The character was also saddled with a bizarre Sam Shepard-like monologue that he couldn't quite finesse.
I'm afraid the "Revolt, She Said" by Alice Birch at the Soho Rep was a complete mess, a feministic harangue with, once again, a trashing of the stage. Hellooooo??? Directors???? Find some other way to depict chaos please. This is getting really old.
Alex Hassell was excellent as well as the young king in "Henry V" although the play is all battle and not to everyone's taste. Henry V was the human king as opposed to Richard II's spoiled popinjay and Henry VI's brutish conqueror. In "Henry VI" parts 1 and 2 (which I did not see this time around having just seen Harriet Walter in Phyllida Lloyd's inventive all-female production at Saint Ann's Warehouse) Prince Hal matures from a feckless boy to the king he will become in "Henry V." He was the people's king and we finally get a taste of this in "Henry V" when he visits his dispirited men on the eve of the Battle of Agincourt in disguise. He brings with him "a little touch of Harry in the night" and it is enough to lift them up to win one of the great military battles in English History.
Both productions from the RSC are well if not exactly imaginatively directed by Gregory Doran and the performances were all excellent except for a few scenes with a mumbling Jane Lapotaire as Queen Isobel in "Henry V" who unfortunately seems past her sell-by date. She fared slightly better as the Duchess of Gloucester in "Richard II." Oliver Ford Davies was a curious but fine Chorus in "Henry V" shambling on an off the stage in professorial gear, a baggy sweater and glasses, which was not in keeping with the otherwise period aspect of the play. And I did quite enjoy the Elizabethan music that framed both plays, especially the three Sopranos in "Richard II."
On a low note, Anne Washburn's "Antlia Pneumatica" (literally "Air Pump", don't ask) at Playwright's Horizons was a disappointment. Washburn's "10 Out of 12" at Soho Rep was one of my top three favorite plays last year. Unfortunately "Antlia Pneumatica," friends gathering at a country house to memorialize a dead friend as in "The Big Chill," seemed directionless. I enjoyed the first half of the play because her characters are always so unique and wonderful and her dialogue is snappy but the play went nowhere really and the ending, or lack thereof, left the audience confused. Perhaps that was her intention but for the purposes of this play it didn't cut it. The performances were mostly excellent, especially Annie Parisse as Nina, but Rob Campbell as Adrian, her one-time lover, wasn't able to deliver on the charisma that his character required. The character was also saddled with a bizarre Sam Shepard-like monologue that he couldn't quite finesse.
I'm afraid the "Revolt, She Said" by Alice Birch at the Soho Rep was a complete mess, a feministic harangue with, once again, a trashing of the stage. Hellooooo??? Directors???? Find some other way to depict chaos please. This is getting really old.
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Ivo does Salem and Ed Harris is Buried
I think I'm going soft. I'm starting to like Ivo Van Hove. After his disastrous production of "The Misanthrope" at NYTW in 2007 I thought I couldn't be dragged to another play under his direction. But in 2012, as a member of BAM, I attended a dress rehearsal of his modernistic interpretation of "The Roman Tragedies" of Shakespeare which I didn't hate. Last year I was willing to give his Antigone a try but was left baffled by his direction. Then, on the recommendation of several friends I saw his "A View From The Bridge" on Broadway. I was almost blown away. I say "almost" because I didn't like his cartoonish over-sexualization of the relationship between Eddie and his niece Katherine and I think he went over the top at the end with the symbolic gallons of red paint thrown about the stage. But "The Crucible" is nearly perfect. Except for the moment when he decides to have an evil wind blow trash all over the stage (where it remains for the rest of the play) the direction is tight. Once again, he transports the production to more modern times. Many of the scenes take place in what looks like a classroom, the girls dressed like Catholic schoolgirls. The sets, however, are minimal, as in his other productions. I'm personally a fan of this approach to set design because it does not detract from the play and the acting. The acting was exquisite. If I were to single out any performances it would be those of Sophie Okonedo as Elizabeth Proctor, Ben Whishaw as John Proctor, Ciaran Hinds as Deputy Governor Danforth and Bill Camp as the Reverend John Hale. Saoirse Ronan, who I think is an immensely like-able and talented young actress, is very good but she and the other girls are almost incidental to the play once events are set in motion. O.K. Ivo, you have won me over.
On the heals of this I attended The New Group's revival of Sam Shepard's 1978 play "Buried Child" with Ed Harris as the patriarch Dodge. Fortunately for us, Dodge is on stage for the entirety of the play but the play is a mess and some of the performances are major league fails. Amy Madigan is wooden as Dodge's narcissistic wife Halie and Taissa Farmiga's shrill Shelly is genuinely embarrassing to watch. Neither actress knows how to connect on stage. They deliver their lines to the air. But Ed Harris can always draw me in and he is brilliant at Shepard's long rambling monologues, no wonder since he has been acting Shepard since in the beginning of his own career.
I saw again Julian Sands' "A Celebration of Harold Pinter" directed by John Malcovich at The Irish Rep which was well worth seeing for a second time although The Irish Rep is in a temporary space and the current venue did not do the piece any favors. The play is a mix of Pinter's poems, essays and Sands' own recollections. The first time I saw it was in a dark room where Sands was spotlit as he moved around the stage, shifting from one one poem or recollection to another. In the current space which feels like a school auditorium the house lights were on throughout and there was no distance from Sands/Pinter. I felt it diminished the performance.
I'm also delighted to say that I was fortunate enough to have tickets to the David Bowie Tribute at Carnegie Hall on March 31st. The all star line-up included Ricky Lee Jones, Anne Wilson from Heart, Debbie Harry, Sean Lennon and Jacob Dylan, but the highlight of the night for me was Michael Stipe and Karen Elson's quietly eerie rendition of Bowie's "Ashes to Ashes."
On the heals of this I attended The New Group's revival of Sam Shepard's 1978 play "Buried Child" with Ed Harris as the patriarch Dodge. Fortunately for us, Dodge is on stage for the entirety of the play but the play is a mess and some of the performances are major league fails. Amy Madigan is wooden as Dodge's narcissistic wife Halie and Taissa Farmiga's shrill Shelly is genuinely embarrassing to watch. Neither actress knows how to connect on stage. They deliver their lines to the air. But Ed Harris can always draw me in and he is brilliant at Shepard's long rambling monologues, no wonder since he has been acting Shepard since in the beginning of his own career.
I saw again Julian Sands' "A Celebration of Harold Pinter" directed by John Malcovich at The Irish Rep which was well worth seeing for a second time although The Irish Rep is in a temporary space and the current venue did not do the piece any favors. The play is a mix of Pinter's poems, essays and Sands' own recollections. The first time I saw it was in a dark room where Sands was spotlit as he moved around the stage, shifting from one one poem or recollection to another. In the current space which feels like a school auditorium the house lights were on throughout and there was no distance from Sands/Pinter. I felt it diminished the performance.
I'm also delighted to say that I was fortunate enough to have tickets to the David Bowie Tribute at Carnegie Hall on March 31st. The all star line-up included Ricky Lee Jones, Anne Wilson from Heart, Debbie Harry, Sean Lennon and Jacob Dylan, but the highlight of the night for me was Michael Stipe and Karen Elson's quietly eerie rendition of Bowie's "Ashes to Ashes."
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
Laurie Anderson Crashes Muldoon's Picnic
To see Laurie Anderson perform in such an intimate setting is a joy. I have only ever seen her before from way up or back in big venues such as the BAM Opera House (Moby Dick) or the Rose Theatre at Lincoln Center. She appeared smaller than I had thought but her music and words were so much more powerful in that small space. Accompanying herself on electric violin she began with a humorous story about a correspondence she had as a 12 year old with then Senator Jack Kennedy but moved on to recounting a stay with an Amish family in Pennsylvania with a chilling ending about how we teach children to trade affection for favors.
Also appearing were the poet Timothy Donnelly, musician Mark Mulcahy frontman of the bands Miracle Legion and Polaris and Cait O'Riordan founding member and bass player for the London-Irish band The Pogues. And, of course, Paul Muldoon and his house band Rogue Oliphant.
Muldoon was curiously absent for most of the evening, although he did begin with one of his spoken word poems, this time with some awkward rhymes(which he acknowledged).
Tim Donnelly began with the poem Malamute published in The New Yorker and ended with his ode to Diet Mountain Dew also recently in The New Yorker, both humorous and clever and delivered as spoken word. But I was more struck by his sweet ode to love called The New Intelligence from his book The Cloud Corporation:
"I love that when I call you on the long drab days practicality
keeps one of us away from the other that I am calling
a person so beautiful to me that she has seen my awkwardness
on the actual sidewalk but she still answers anyway."
A bearlike, bearded Mark Mulcahy performed two soft and dreamy songs about his mother, Esther, on his mind because it was her birthday. "It's for the Best" were his mother's words after the death of his father. Cait O'Riordan sang a rousing version of "Kitty Ricketts" accompanied by Mulcahy and Rogue Oliphant who also had the opportunity to play a couple of their own songs.
Laurie Anderson returned with a dark, cautionary piece where she changed her voice electronically to become Donald Trump. She then joined in with the rest of the musicians for a final number, a duet that Muldoon had written for O'Riordan and Mulcahy.
Although there were shouts of "Encore! Encore!" from the audience, it was a wrap.
I encourage you to attend the next Muldoon's Picnic on Monday, April 11th, 7:30 when Book Prize-winning Author Anne Enright, A.M. Homes and Pulitizer Prize-winning poet Yusef Komunyakaa will be performing. But book early! This Monday's Picnic was sold out!
http://irishartscenter.org/literature/muldoons_picnic_4_11_16.html
Also appearing were the poet Timothy Donnelly, musician Mark Mulcahy frontman of the bands Miracle Legion and Polaris and Cait O'Riordan founding member and bass player for the London-Irish band The Pogues. And, of course, Paul Muldoon and his house band Rogue Oliphant.
Muldoon was curiously absent for most of the evening, although he did begin with one of his spoken word poems, this time with some awkward rhymes(which he acknowledged).
Tim Donnelly began with the poem Malamute published in The New Yorker and ended with his ode to Diet Mountain Dew also recently in The New Yorker, both humorous and clever and delivered as spoken word. But I was more struck by his sweet ode to love called The New Intelligence from his book The Cloud Corporation:
"I love that when I call you on the long drab days practicality
keeps one of us away from the other that I am calling
a person so beautiful to me that she has seen my awkwardness
on the actual sidewalk but she still answers anyway."
A bearlike, bearded Mark Mulcahy performed two soft and dreamy songs about his mother, Esther, on his mind because it was her birthday. "It's for the Best" were his mother's words after the death of his father. Cait O'Riordan sang a rousing version of "Kitty Ricketts" accompanied by Mulcahy and Rogue Oliphant who also had the opportunity to play a couple of their own songs.
Laurie Anderson returned with a dark, cautionary piece where she changed her voice electronically to become Donald Trump. She then joined in with the rest of the musicians for a final number, a duet that Muldoon had written for O'Riordan and Mulcahy.
Although there were shouts of "Encore! Encore!" from the audience, it was a wrap.
I encourage you to attend the next Muldoon's Picnic on Monday, April 11th, 7:30 when Book Prize-winning Author Anne Enright, A.M. Homes and Pulitizer Prize-winning poet Yusef Komunyakaa will be performing. But book early! This Monday's Picnic was sold out!
http://irishartscenter.org/literature/muldoons_picnic_4_11_16.html
Monday, March 14, 2016
I'll Never Love Again
A visit to the Bushwick Starr is a bit like falling down the rabbit hole, beginning with the journey there on the L train. The small theatre is located in a tenement-like apartment building reached by a dingy set of stairs, down a hallway, passing a sign that reads "Out of respect for our neighbors please keep volume to the minimum while hanging out in the hallway " and through a door into a darkly lit room. We are here to see Clare Barron's latest work, culled from her diary. When last I saw one of her plays it was the brilliant "You Got Older," in my opinion, along with Ann Washburn's "10 Out of 12," one of the two best plays of 2015, both reviewed on this blog. Now Barron dares to go deeper.
I'm sure that many of us kept diaries when we 16. Perhaps we destroyed these diaries later in life out of embarrassment. Thank God Clare Barron did not. "I'll Never Love Again," her diary from that year, recounts her sexual awaking as told by a literal chorus of actors, all Clare, through monologues and group performances of tunes like "The Bonnie Banks o' Loch Lomond." We feel the angst of a 16 year old girl through these many lenses. It is raw; it is painful; it is joyous.
And what an oddly assorted array of actors we have here. There is an extraordinarily tall man with a shaved head and red beard, a middle aged Asian woman, a pop-eyed young woman with Mamie Eisenhower bangs and a voluptuous African-American. These are only a few of those who make up the cast, each startlingly different from each other. While I hesitate to single out individual performances, I have to note those of Nanah Mensah, Kate Benson, Mia Katigbak and Clare Barron herself who engages in the most excruciating and real deflowering I have seen on stage or screen.
Cut to 2012, Clare at 26 played by Nanah Mensah is an office worker. We are introduced to the 14 year old Oona (a fine Oona Montandon) who has come to meet her mom's partner who is taking her to an event celbrating the Mayan Apolcalypse, a phenomenon with which Clare's younger self had been obsessed. Clare unsuccessfully tries to advise and encourage Oona on how to cope with high school and adolescence (because we know so well how Clare fared with that). And then on to a monologue by the middle-aged actress Mia Katigbak as the 26-year-old Clare describing a time in which "things fell apart" in her life and, it would seem, in the world at large. But in the end she says, "Each year I understood more songs." And so goes the world of Clare Barron.
The inspired direction is by Michael Leibenluft; Stephanie Johnstone is the show's composer and music director, and the Alice in Wonderland-like set is by Carolyn Mraz.
I'm sure that many of us kept diaries when we 16. Perhaps we destroyed these diaries later in life out of embarrassment. Thank God Clare Barron did not. "I'll Never Love Again," her diary from that year, recounts her sexual awaking as told by a literal chorus of actors, all Clare, through monologues and group performances of tunes like "The Bonnie Banks o' Loch Lomond." We feel the angst of a 16 year old girl through these many lenses. It is raw; it is painful; it is joyous.
And what an oddly assorted array of actors we have here. There is an extraordinarily tall man with a shaved head and red beard, a middle aged Asian woman, a pop-eyed young woman with Mamie Eisenhower bangs and a voluptuous African-American. These are only a few of those who make up the cast, each startlingly different from each other. While I hesitate to single out individual performances, I have to note those of Nanah Mensah, Kate Benson, Mia Katigbak and Clare Barron herself who engages in the most excruciating and real deflowering I have seen on stage or screen.
Cut to 2012, Clare at 26 played by Nanah Mensah is an office worker. We are introduced to the 14 year old Oona (a fine Oona Montandon) who has come to meet her mom's partner who is taking her to an event celbrating the Mayan Apolcalypse, a phenomenon with which Clare's younger self had been obsessed. Clare unsuccessfully tries to advise and encourage Oona on how to cope with high school and adolescence (because we know so well how Clare fared with that). And then on to a monologue by the middle-aged actress Mia Katigbak as the 26-year-old Clare describing a time in which "things fell apart" in her life and, it would seem, in the world at large. But in the end she says, "Each year I understood more songs." And so goes the world of Clare Barron.
The inspired direction is by Michael Leibenluft; Stephanie Johnstone is the show's composer and music director, and the Alice in Wonderland-like set is by Carolyn Mraz.
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Between New York and Death Valley
I'm still trying to tie my feelings about the the recent Civilians production of "Rimbaud in New York," written and directed by Steve Cosson, at the BAM Fisher in with their most excellent, brave and exciting production of "Paris Commune" of a few years ago. " Paris Commune" was a brilliantly conceived and beautiful experimental theatrical experience whereas "Rimbaud," aside from Rimbaud's poems, is a hodgepodge of thoughts, poems and songs about Rimbaud by actors representing the 60's East Village artists his work had a profound effect on, Eileen Myles, Patty Smith, John Ashbery and Richard Hell to name a few. Some of the the original songs are good as are the translations of Rimbaud by John Ashbery but I am so tired of plays ending with garbage being thrown around the stage (in this case yellow balloons) because the director/writer can't seem to think of any other way to wrap up. There are solid performances, especially from Rebecca Hart and Adam Cochran, and Joseph Keckler has a most unusual and beautiful voice. I did quite like the set design by Andromache Chalfant with it's back wall of interconnecting cubes but the the play was runny liked an uncooked egg.
I don't usually write about film but I was just so moved by Guillaume Nicioux's "Valley of Love" at Rendez-Vous with French Cinema last week that I have to say a few words about it. "Valley of Love" reunites Isabelle Huppert with Gerard Depardieu who last appeared together in Pialat's "LouLou" in 1980. Huppert and Depardieu are actors who had a child together over 30 years before but have since gone on to other marriages, children, lives. It was the wish of the their son who has committed suicide for them to spend a week together in Death Valley where he will appear to them on the the final day. They both feel, especially Huppert, that they have failed their son so they make good on his wishes. Huppert is desperate to see her son again, improbable though it may be. The connection between Huppert and Depardieu is palpable and the way that the film addresses their feelings of failure and lost opportunities to connect with their child are profound. Plus the landscapes are stunning!
I don't usually write about film but I was just so moved by Guillaume Nicioux's "Valley of Love" at Rendez-Vous with French Cinema last week that I have to say a few words about it. "Valley of Love" reunites Isabelle Huppert with Gerard Depardieu who last appeared together in Pialat's "LouLou" in 1980. Huppert and Depardieu are actors who had a child together over 30 years before but have since gone on to other marriages, children, lives. It was the wish of the their son who has committed suicide for them to spend a week together in Death Valley where he will appear to them on the the final day. They both feel, especially Huppert, that they have failed their son so they make good on his wishes. Huppert is desperate to see her son again, improbable though it may be. The connection between Huppert and Depardieu is palpable and the way that the film addresses their feelings of failure and lost opportunities to connect with their child are profound. Plus the landscapes are stunning!
Thursday, February 25, 2016
If I were a rich man .... no ... wait ... I AM rich!
I saw two very different productions this past week, both exactly 2 hours and 25 minutes long, Shakespeare's "Pericles" directed by Trevor Nunn at TFANA and "Fiddler on the Roof" under the direction of Bartlett Sher on Broadway. Each were impressive productions in their own way.
"Pericles, Prince of Tyre" is a play about redemption, rebirth and hope. It is full of improbabilities, impossibilities if you will. It is a tragedy and a comedy both. The young prince Pericles successfully answers a riddle to win Antioch's daughter's hand in marriage but discovers their incestuous relationship and the king condemns him to death. He sails off and first lands in Tarsus which is suffering from famine, gives them his ship's cargo of corn and wins thanks from their governor Creon and his wife Dionyza. But he is being pursued by Antioch's assassins and sails on until he is shipwrecked and washes up at Pentapolis. He wins and weds the Princess Thaisa before he finds out that King Antioch is dead and he can return to Tyre. Their daughter Marina is born on the voyage but Thaisa seemingly dies in childbirth and is put into the sea in coffin. The coffin washes up at Ephesus where Thaisa is revived by the physician Cerimon. The heartbroken Pericles meanwhile leaves Marina in the care of Cleon and Dionyza. Sixteen years later, Dionyza who resents that Marina outshines her daughter in all things, orders her killed but before this can happen she is captured by pirates and sold to a brothel in Mytilene where she is refuses to give up her virginity and ends up being very bad for business, converting customers to pious chastity. Confused yet? Around this time Pericles, now an old man, returns to Tarsus for Marina. When he discovers she is dead, he is inconsolable. He dons sackcloth and refuses to cut his hair or bathe but his ship sails on and he eventually lands in Mytilene where, you guessed it, he is reunited with his daughter and eventually his wife. And can finally shave and have a bath.
I generally think that TFANA does well by Shakespeare but this production is uneven. The director, Trevor Nunn, has directed many of the Royal Shakespeare Company great productions since the 70's but working with an American cast has proved a stumbling block for him. Christian Camargo fails to impress as Pericles. He lacks a kingly manor and his costume doesn't help much. He looks like he was dressed in one's great-aunt's old curtains. Some of the performances have weight, especially Philip Casnoff as Helicanus, Pericles friend and regent in Tyre, but others seem odd, especially the Thaisa of Gia Crovatin who looks and sounds more like a Real Housewife of Atlanta than a Queen. Lilly Englert fares better as Marina although she also has a Barbie-esque look about her.
Still, the play moves along at good clip and there is much that is entertaining. So go if you will.
"Fiddler on the Roof" boasts Danny Burstein as Tevya and Jessica Hecht as his wife Golde. This is beautifully done tour de force of musical theatre. It's not on a par with the recent revival of "South Pacific" at Lincoln Center which also was directed by Bartlett Sher and starred Danny Bernstein (and Kelli O'Hara, currently in "The King and I" at Lincoln Center and also directed by Bartlett Sher) but it's irrestitable. You, like me, will probably know every word to every song. The singing! The dancing! That's entertainment!
"Pericles, Prince of Tyre" is a play about redemption, rebirth and hope. It is full of improbabilities, impossibilities if you will. It is a tragedy and a comedy both. The young prince Pericles successfully answers a riddle to win Antioch's daughter's hand in marriage but discovers their incestuous relationship and the king condemns him to death. He sails off and first lands in Tarsus which is suffering from famine, gives them his ship's cargo of corn and wins thanks from their governor Creon and his wife Dionyza. But he is being pursued by Antioch's assassins and sails on until he is shipwrecked and washes up at Pentapolis. He wins and weds the Princess Thaisa before he finds out that King Antioch is dead and he can return to Tyre. Their daughter Marina is born on the voyage but Thaisa seemingly dies in childbirth and is put into the sea in coffin. The coffin washes up at Ephesus where Thaisa is revived by the physician Cerimon. The heartbroken Pericles meanwhile leaves Marina in the care of Cleon and Dionyza. Sixteen years later, Dionyza who resents that Marina outshines her daughter in all things, orders her killed but before this can happen she is captured by pirates and sold to a brothel in Mytilene where she is refuses to give up her virginity and ends up being very bad for business, converting customers to pious chastity. Confused yet? Around this time Pericles, now an old man, returns to Tarsus for Marina. When he discovers she is dead, he is inconsolable. He dons sackcloth and refuses to cut his hair or bathe but his ship sails on and he eventually lands in Mytilene where, you guessed it, he is reunited with his daughter and eventually his wife. And can finally shave and have a bath.
I generally think that TFANA does well by Shakespeare but this production is uneven. The director, Trevor Nunn, has directed many of the Royal Shakespeare Company great productions since the 70's but working with an American cast has proved a stumbling block for him. Christian Camargo fails to impress as Pericles. He lacks a kingly manor and his costume doesn't help much. He looks like he was dressed in one's great-aunt's old curtains. Some of the performances have weight, especially Philip Casnoff as Helicanus, Pericles friend and regent in Tyre, but others seem odd, especially the Thaisa of Gia Crovatin who looks and sounds more like a Real Housewife of Atlanta than a Queen. Lilly Englert fares better as Marina although she also has a Barbie-esque look about her.
Still, the play moves along at good clip and there is much that is entertaining. So go if you will.
"Fiddler on the Roof" boasts Danny Burstein as Tevya and Jessica Hecht as his wife Golde. This is beautifully done tour de force of musical theatre. It's not on a par with the recent revival of "South Pacific" at Lincoln Center which also was directed by Bartlett Sher and starred Danny Bernstein (and Kelli O'Hara, currently in "The King and I" at Lincoln Center and also directed by Bartlett Sher) but it's irrestitable. You, like me, will probably know every word to every song. The singing! The dancing! That's entertainment!
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Red Speedo (I can't improve on that)
Lucas Hnath's new play"Red Speedo" at NYTW was much, much better than I expected. If you read my blog you will remember that his much over-hyped play "The Christians" left me curiously unaffected. I think that Hnath is still trying to find his way as a playwright which makes it seem strange to me that he is already a recipient of numerous prestigious awards including a Guggenheim last year. Oh, well, what do I know? If you read my blog then perhaps you think I know at least a little but I am having to push back against the hoards of people who rely on Ben Brantley of The New York Times to inform their theatre-going.
There is an actual pool on stage, or, rather running the length of the stage and separating the audience from the actors. A fourth wall perhaps? I thought it a clever and original devise. The play opens with an Olympic calibre swimmer diving in and swimming two lengths without coming up for air. He exits the pool and we see how muscular and defined his body is, a swimming machine. And this is, for the most part, is how we see him for the entire 90 minutes of the play as his lawyer brother, coach and sports therapist ex-girlfriend manipulate him. Or is he actually manipulating them? The set is brilliant and the acting pretty damn good. Alex Breaux as Ray, the swimmer, is a particular stand-out. Peter Jay Fernandez brings a steely resolve to Coach and Lucas Caleb Rooney, as Ray's lawyer bother Peter, has his best Philip Seymour Hoffman on and, while not in that league, certainly claims the part. The only weak performance is Zoe Winters as Lydia, who I have seen and liked before in "An Octoroon" at Soho Rep and "4,000 Miles" at Lincoln Center. In fairness, it is not her fault that Lydia is not a fully realized character. The real problem with play is in the ending. The play is a puzzle of interlocking pieces and Hnath is unable to give us the last piece, the one last twist necessary to make everything click together, so instead "Red Speedo" departs from it's stylistic slickness and becomes a bloody brawl. I expect that's a spoiler.
While the playwrights Bruce Norris ("Clybourne Park") is attempting Albee, Sarah Ruhl has been known to steal from Richard Foreman("Dead Man's Cell Phone") and Stephen Karam ("The Humans") thinks he is onto something Pinter-esque, Hnath's work is a mash up of David Mamet, Carol Churchhill and Sam Shephard. I think Hnath fares better here that Norris and Karam in their recent productions so that's saying something.
Where do we look for originality these days? Well, fortunately, I think that Annie Baker("The Flick") is on to something as are Anne Washburn("10 Out of 12") and Branden Jacobs-Jenkins ("An Octoroon"). Anne Washburn's "Antlia Pneumatica" opens at Playwrights Horizons on March 11th. Something to look forward to
There is an actual pool on stage, or, rather running the length of the stage and separating the audience from the actors. A fourth wall perhaps? I thought it a clever and original devise. The play opens with an Olympic calibre swimmer diving in and swimming two lengths without coming up for air. He exits the pool and we see how muscular and defined his body is, a swimming machine. And this is, for the most part, is how we see him for the entire 90 minutes of the play as his lawyer brother, coach and sports therapist ex-girlfriend manipulate him. Or is he actually manipulating them? The set is brilliant and the acting pretty damn good. Alex Breaux as Ray, the swimmer, is a particular stand-out. Peter Jay Fernandez brings a steely resolve to Coach and Lucas Caleb Rooney, as Ray's lawyer bother Peter, has his best Philip Seymour Hoffman on and, while not in that league, certainly claims the part. The only weak performance is Zoe Winters as Lydia, who I have seen and liked before in "An Octoroon" at Soho Rep and "4,000 Miles" at Lincoln Center. In fairness, it is not her fault that Lydia is not a fully realized character. The real problem with play is in the ending. The play is a puzzle of interlocking pieces and Hnath is unable to give us the last piece, the one last twist necessary to make everything click together, so instead "Red Speedo" departs from it's stylistic slickness and becomes a bloody brawl. I expect that's a spoiler.
While the playwrights Bruce Norris ("Clybourne Park") is attempting Albee, Sarah Ruhl has been known to steal from Richard Foreman("Dead Man's Cell Phone") and Stephen Karam ("The Humans") thinks he is onto something Pinter-esque, Hnath's work is a mash up of David Mamet, Carol Churchhill and Sam Shephard. I think Hnath fares better here that Norris and Karam in their recent productions so that's saying something.
Where do we look for originality these days? Well, fortunately, I think that Annie Baker("The Flick") is on to something as are Anne Washburn("10 Out of 12") and Branden Jacobs-Jenkins ("An Octoroon"). Anne Washburn's "Antlia Pneumatica" opens at Playwrights Horizons on March 11th. Something to look forward to
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Blackbird not so much on the wire
I had been so looking forward to the current revival of "Blackbird" by the Scottish playwright David Harrower on Broadway. I was too late for the train in 2007 to see Jeff Daniels as Ray and Alison Pill as Una so I was eager to see this recent recent revival with Jeff Daniels and Michelle Williams about the sexual relationship that happened between them 15 years earlier when he was 40 and she 12. Although upsetting and unsettling, we have become somewhat inured to the subject after decades of shows like Law and Order SVU, true stories of girls like Elizabeth Smart kidnapped as adolescents and held captive for years, and Middle Eastern and Indian men "marrying" girls of this age and younger and subjecting them to a life of rape and servitude.
There was no chemistry between Daniels and Williams. In the context of the play, it would have been important for us to understand the attraction that drew them together 15 years before and which continued to pull her to him 15 years later. Williams performance was all jitters and sharp angels. She entered at a pitch and remained that way for the entire 90 minutes of the play. The part calls for a more nuanced performance. She has spent 15 years yearning for him. What she has not come to terms with for 15 years is not that he violated her 12 year old self but that he deserted her. She has not come just to confront him; she wants him back and if she is to get him back she has to seduce him. As Shakespeare said in "Hamlet": "Suit the action to the word, the word to the action." But it's not there in her performance. It's really important for us to understand what they meant to each other and what might still connect them. Ray is obviously defeated from a life being punished for his actions, first in prison and then in being beaten down by life after prison as an offender, but I expect the playwright intended that we would get a glimmer of the man he had been 15 years before. Unfortunately Daniels does not have the opening for this to happen. During the curtain call he looked unhappy and uncomfortable, perhaps do to frustration. I doubt very much it was because he was having a hard time shaking his character.
The play itself is clunky. I wondered if it had been reworked since it's staging in 2007. And Joe Mantello's direction was workmanlike unlike his deft direction of the disapppointing "The Humans". And I am tired of seeing plays that end with the set being trashed as in the recent "The Glory of the World" at BAM and Ivo Van Hove's "The Misanthrope" at NYTW.
There was no chemistry between Daniels and Williams. In the context of the play, it would have been important for us to understand the attraction that drew them together 15 years before and which continued to pull her to him 15 years later. Williams performance was all jitters and sharp angels. She entered at a pitch and remained that way for the entire 90 minutes of the play. The part calls for a more nuanced performance. She has spent 15 years yearning for him. What she has not come to terms with for 15 years is not that he violated her 12 year old self but that he deserted her. She has not come just to confront him; she wants him back and if she is to get him back she has to seduce him. As Shakespeare said in "Hamlet": "Suit the action to the word, the word to the action." But it's not there in her performance. It's really important for us to understand what they meant to each other and what might still connect them. Ray is obviously defeated from a life being punished for his actions, first in prison and then in being beaten down by life after prison as an offender, but I expect the playwright intended that we would get a glimmer of the man he had been 15 years before. Unfortunately Daniels does not have the opening for this to happen. During the curtain call he looked unhappy and uncomfortable, perhaps do to frustration. I doubt very much it was because he was having a hard time shaking his character.
The play itself is clunky. I wondered if it had been reworked since it's staging in 2007. And Joe Mantello's direction was workmanlike unlike his deft direction of the disapppointing "The Humans". And I am tired of seeing plays that end with the set being trashed as in the recent "The Glory of the World" at BAM and Ivo Van Hove's "The Misanthrope" at NYTW.
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
February has been dreary so far...
Although I'm looking forward to seeing "Blackbird," Lucas Hnath's "Red Speedo" at NYTW and Trevor Nunn's production of "Pericles" at Theatre for a New Audience in the next couple of weeks, I sadly have to post that so far this month the plays I have seen have been less than stellar, ranging from confused to derivative to tired.
I had been looking forward to seeing Lee Waters' production of "The Glory of the World" by Charles Mee about the poet monk Thomas Merton. But how exactly did they come up with the idea of honoring Merton by having a large group of gay men throw him a birthday party? Am I missing something about Merton here? The program notes say that this "raucous" party would have been an event that Merton would have enjoyed. How? What does a group of gay men spouting pop culture references and trashing the stage have to do with a man who lived for 27 years in a Kentucky monastery and purportedly fathered an illegitimate child? The play is bookended by an actor playing Merton with his back to the audience typing away, his words projected on scrims on at the back of the stage. This is at first visually interesting but it goes on long enough to become extremely tedious. Fun fact: Merton died at age 53 in Bangkok, while attending an interfaith conference between Catholic and non-catholic Christian monks. He was accidentally electrocuted by an electric fan while stepping out of his bath.
The less said about "Straight" at the Acorn Theatre the better. Did we really need another mediocre play about a young man coming out of the closet (or not)? In our age of fluid sexuality there is nothing shocking about his situation. If anything, the play feels dated and, with the exception of a very nuanced performance by Thomas E. Sullivan, the acting is not notable. The play, by Scott Elmegreen and Drew Fornarola (It took two to write this? Really?), has a sit-com feel especially given that the entire action of the play takes place on a couch in what looks like the set of "Three's Company". Director Andy Sandberg does an admirable job of making do.
In the category "I should have know better," Bill Irwin and and David Shiner's evening of mime "Old Hats" at The Signature failed to please or amuse.... enough. There were a few entertaining moments, most notable a magic show and film set which both incorporated audience participation, but overall a little bit goes a long way. I also found the singer Shaina Taub whose songs are interspersed throughout the show to be somewhat insufferable. Her band, on the other hand, was extremely hip and far to cool for the venue or the show. Tina Landau, who has directed several Chuck (read Charles) Mee plays as well as the Brother/Sister plays at the Public was obviously out of her element here. One strain of my family comes from vaudeville and I'm sorry to say that I don't think this would have cut it with them.
I had been looking forward to seeing Lee Waters' production of "The Glory of the World" by Charles Mee about the poet monk Thomas Merton. But how exactly did they come up with the idea of honoring Merton by having a large group of gay men throw him a birthday party? Am I missing something about Merton here? The program notes say that this "raucous" party would have been an event that Merton would have enjoyed. How? What does a group of gay men spouting pop culture references and trashing the stage have to do with a man who lived for 27 years in a Kentucky monastery and purportedly fathered an illegitimate child? The play is bookended by an actor playing Merton with his back to the audience typing away, his words projected on scrims on at the back of the stage. This is at first visually interesting but it goes on long enough to become extremely tedious. Fun fact: Merton died at age 53 in Bangkok, while attending an interfaith conference between Catholic and non-catholic Christian monks. He was accidentally electrocuted by an electric fan while stepping out of his bath.
The less said about "Straight" at the Acorn Theatre the better. Did we really need another mediocre play about a young man coming out of the closet (or not)? In our age of fluid sexuality there is nothing shocking about his situation. If anything, the play feels dated and, with the exception of a very nuanced performance by Thomas E. Sullivan, the acting is not notable. The play, by Scott Elmegreen and Drew Fornarola (It took two to write this? Really?), has a sit-com feel especially given that the entire action of the play takes place on a couch in what looks like the set of "Three's Company". Director Andy Sandberg does an admirable job of making do.
In the category "I should have know better," Bill Irwin and and David Shiner's evening of mime "Old Hats" at The Signature failed to please or amuse.... enough. There were a few entertaining moments, most notable a magic show and film set which both incorporated audience participation, but overall a little bit goes a long way. I also found the singer Shaina Taub whose songs are interspersed throughout the show to be somewhat insufferable. Her band, on the other hand, was extremely hip and far to cool for the venue or the show. Tina Landau, who has directed several Chuck (read Charles) Mee plays as well as the Brother/Sister plays at the Public was obviously out of her element here. One strain of my family comes from vaudeville and I'm sorry to say that I don't think this would have cut it with them.
Belinda McKeon comes to the Irish Arts Center
I'm excited to be going to the Irish Arts Center on February 16th at 7:30 hear novelist and playwright Belinda McKeon read from her new book Tender, called "insanely beautiful" by Bustle. Her debut novel Solace was voted Irish Book of the Year in 2011 and won the 2011 Faber Prize. You may have read her essays in The New York Times, The Guardian and The New Yorker. And she lives in Brooklyn, folks!
For more info go to http://www.irishartscenter.org//literature.html.
For more info go to http://www.irishartscenter.org//literature.html.
Thursday, February 4, 2016
The Queen of American Theatre in The King and I, the incomparable Tricia Brown, more Sense and Sensibility and more Humans
First, can I say, is there any more exquisite voice out there in American Musical Theatre than that of Kelli O'Hara? She is sublime in Lincoln Center's production of the rather creaky musical "The King and I." My heart goes out to the theatre goers who opt to attend on her days off. The production is gorgeous. Obviously no expense was spared. But it did not the match the power of the 2010 production of "South Pacific" at Lincoln Center which also starred Ms. O'Hara and for which she ought to have received a Tony. That production was socially and politically relevant in a way that the current production of "The King and I" is not. : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZcgtPWebbm4
Tricia Brown at BAM. Wow. This was the last chance to see three pieces Brown choreographed for a proscenium stage. I'm not sure the exact reason for this although perhaps it has to do with expense. Brown is suffering from vascular dementia but her company continues to perform her exceptional work beautifully. I especially liked Set and Reset from 1983 with visual presentation and costumes by Robert Rauschenberg and music by Laurie Anderson. The dancers were fluid and precise in the their gloriously billowy black and white attire. Present Tense from 2003 with visuals by the painter Elizabeth Murray and music by John Cage pleased as well. Pops of primary color came in the costumes matched against the giant Murray canvas at the back of the stage. Less fluid than Set and Reset it showcased a precision of movement and the cohesiveness of the company as a whole. I was less keen on Newark(Niweweorce) from 1987 with original sound orchestration by Peter Zummo (all fog horns and industrial machinery) and monochromatic visuals by Donald Judd. The dancers in metallic gray unitards moved as cogs in a giant machine. It lacked soul for me.
I was not as enamored by "The Humans" as the powers that be. I thought the play, about a family spending a very painful Thanksgiving together, overflowing with revelations and TMI, was not as profound as it strove to be . As with "Clybourne Park" by Bruce Norris which was also much lauded, I get the feeling that we, as a serious theatre-going community, are hoping to discover the next Albee or Pinter in these dark quasi-comic dramas focused on flawed familial relationships. Even the title of the play is trying to steer us toward feeling as if we will gain a deeper understanding of the human condition or, at the very least, question what we believe. " The Humans" with it's excellent cast, especially the great Jayne Houdyshell and Reed Birney, tries so earnestly to be profound and that it's painful to leave the theatre at the end of the play without wanting to carry on thinking about it. That's what Pinter and Albee do. They make us think. And we continue to think and try to understand long after we leave the theatre. I would love to see Houdyshell and Birney in a revival of "Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf. That would be awesome!
Bedlam's "Sense and Sensibility" came through again though. I missed Eric Tucker, the company's founder and director, as Mrs. Jennings this time around but Gabra Zackman, a new addition to the cast, is sure to please all who did not see last year's production. I've written about the previous production here. Don't miss it this time!
Tricia Brown at BAM. Wow. This was the last chance to see three pieces Brown choreographed for a proscenium stage. I'm not sure the exact reason for this although perhaps it has to do with expense. Brown is suffering from vascular dementia but her company continues to perform her exceptional work beautifully. I especially liked Set and Reset from 1983 with visual presentation and costumes by Robert Rauschenberg and music by Laurie Anderson. The dancers were fluid and precise in the their gloriously billowy black and white attire. Present Tense from 2003 with visuals by the painter Elizabeth Murray and music by John Cage pleased as well. Pops of primary color came in the costumes matched against the giant Murray canvas at the back of the stage. Less fluid than Set and Reset it showcased a precision of movement and the cohesiveness of the company as a whole. I was less keen on Newark(Niweweorce) from 1987 with original sound orchestration by Peter Zummo (all fog horns and industrial machinery) and monochromatic visuals by Donald Judd. The dancers in metallic gray unitards moved as cogs in a giant machine. It lacked soul for me.
I was not as enamored by "The Humans" as the powers that be. I thought the play, about a family spending a very painful Thanksgiving together, overflowing with revelations and TMI, was not as profound as it strove to be . As with "Clybourne Park" by Bruce Norris which was also much lauded, I get the feeling that we, as a serious theatre-going community, are hoping to discover the next Albee or Pinter in these dark quasi-comic dramas focused on flawed familial relationships. Even the title of the play is trying to steer us toward feeling as if we will gain a deeper understanding of the human condition or, at the very least, question what we believe. " The Humans" with it's excellent cast, especially the great Jayne Houdyshell and Reed Birney, tries so earnestly to be profound and that it's painful to leave the theatre at the end of the play without wanting to carry on thinking about it. That's what Pinter and Albee do. They make us think. And we continue to think and try to understand long after we leave the theatre. I would love to see Houdyshell and Birney in a revival of "Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf. That would be awesome!
Bedlam's "Sense and Sensibility" came through again though. I missed Eric Tucker, the company's founder and director, as Mrs. Jennings this time around but Gabra Zackman, a new addition to the cast, is sure to please all who did not see last year's production. I've written about the previous production here. Don't miss it this time!
Muldoon's Picnic Coming Up
A heads up to run, not walk, to the Irish Arts Center 553 West 51st Street on Monday, February 8th at 7:30 for the next Muldoon's Picnic when his guests will include Salman Rushdie, Miracles of Modern Science and the Irish writer Glenn Patterson. The following Muldoon's Picnic on March 14th will feature Laurie Anderson. These delightful evenings are not to be missed. http://www.irishartscenter.org
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Back in the Groove
The new year has rung in and as you can see I have not created my new website. For the time being I shall soldier on here.
Best Plays of 2015
David Hare's "Skylight" on Broadway
Bedlam's "Twelfth Night" and "What You Will"
Branden Jacob-Jenkins's "An Octoroon" at Theatre for a New City
Anne Washburn's "10 out of 12"at The Soho Rep
Annie Baker's "The Flick" at The Barrow Street Theatre
Arthur Miller's "A View from the Bridge" on Broadway
Brecht's Mother "Mother Courage" at CSC with Tonya Pinkins
RSC's "Wolf Hall" on Broadway
Nick Payne's "Constellations" on Broadway
Ibsen's "Ghosts" at BAM
Neil LaBute's "The Way We Get By" at The Second Stage
Ars Nova and The Soho Rep's "Futurity"
"Henry IV" at St. Ann's Warehouse
New York Classic Theatre's "The Taming of the Shrew" in Prospect Park
Worst of 2015
Lucas Hnaf's "The Christians" at Playwrights Horizons
Sam Shephard's "Fool For Love" on Broadway
Naomi Wallace's "Night is a Room" at Signature
Bruce Norris's "The Qualms" at Playwrights Horizons
Halley Peiffer's "I'm Going to Pray for You So Hard" at The Atlantic Theatre
The Druid Theatre's "The History Plays" at Lincoln Center
Mike Bartlett's "King Charles III" on Broadway
Branden Jacob-Jenkins's "Gloria" at The Vineyard Theatre
Jez Butterworth's "The River" at The Circle in the Square
Todd Allmond's "Iowa" at Playwrights Horizons
Wendy Wasserstein's "The Heidi Chronicles" on Broadway
Howard Barker's "Scenes from an Execution" at The Atlantic Theatre Company
Not Perfect But Pretty Good
Billy Joe Armstrong's "These Paper Bullets" at The Atlantic Theatre Company
Abe Koogler's "The Kill Floor" at Lincoln Center
Rajiv Joseph's "Guards at the Taj" at The Atlantic Theatre Company
Bedlam's "New York Animals" at The Ohio Theatre
Ayad Akhtar's "The Invisible Hand" at NYTW
Edward Albee's "A Delicate Balance" on Broadway
Christopher Wheeldon's "An American in Paris" on Broadway
Sophocles' "Antigone" at BAM
I also enjoyed several Muldoon's Picnics at the Irish Arts Center and stand-alone performances of "Three Men" by Michael Folie and "The Dictator" by the Lebanese playwright Issam Mahfouz translated by Robert Myers.
Best Plays of 2015
David Hare's "Skylight" on Broadway
Bedlam's "Twelfth Night" and "What You Will"
Branden Jacob-Jenkins's "An Octoroon" at Theatre for a New City
Anne Washburn's "10 out of 12"at The Soho Rep
Annie Baker's "The Flick" at The Barrow Street Theatre
Arthur Miller's "A View from the Bridge" on Broadway
Brecht's Mother "Mother Courage" at CSC with Tonya Pinkins
RSC's "Wolf Hall" on Broadway
Nick Payne's "Constellations" on Broadway
Ibsen's "Ghosts" at BAM
Neil LaBute's "The Way We Get By" at The Second Stage
Ars Nova and The Soho Rep's "Futurity"
"Henry IV" at St. Ann's Warehouse
New York Classic Theatre's "The Taming of the Shrew" in Prospect Park
Worst of 2015
Lucas Hnaf's "The Christians" at Playwrights Horizons
Sam Shephard's "Fool For Love" on Broadway
Naomi Wallace's "Night is a Room" at Signature
Bruce Norris's "The Qualms" at Playwrights Horizons
Halley Peiffer's "I'm Going to Pray for You So Hard" at The Atlantic Theatre
The Druid Theatre's "The History Plays" at Lincoln Center
Mike Bartlett's "King Charles III" on Broadway
Branden Jacob-Jenkins's "Gloria" at The Vineyard Theatre
Jez Butterworth's "The River" at The Circle in the Square
Todd Allmond's "Iowa" at Playwrights Horizons
Wendy Wasserstein's "The Heidi Chronicles" on Broadway
Howard Barker's "Scenes from an Execution" at The Atlantic Theatre Company
Not Perfect But Pretty Good
Billy Joe Armstrong's "These Paper Bullets" at The Atlantic Theatre Company
Abe Koogler's "The Kill Floor" at Lincoln Center
Rajiv Joseph's "Guards at the Taj" at The Atlantic Theatre Company
Bedlam's "New York Animals" at The Ohio Theatre
Ayad Akhtar's "The Invisible Hand" at NYTW
Edward Albee's "A Delicate Balance" on Broadway
Christopher Wheeldon's "An American in Paris" on Broadway
Sophocles' "Antigone" at BAM
I also enjoyed several Muldoon's Picnics at the Irish Arts Center and stand-alone performances of "Three Men" by Michael Folie and "The Dictator" by the Lebanese playwright Issam Mahfouz translated by Robert Myers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)