A Great Month for Theatre

 "The Hairy Ape" is magnificent.  If you love your O'Neill there is still time to make it to Richard Jones' sublime production at the Park Avenue Armory.  The WPA inspired set is glorious.   The play opens with the actors in a frozen tableau as the set on a circular loop moves into view.  This "devise" of freezing the action to create a tableau is used judiciously throughout the play and always to dramatic effect.  In addition to theatre, Jones has done operas which have certainly taught him how to direct on the grand visual scale necessary for a production in the vast space of the Armory. The Designer Stewart Laing,  Choreographer Aletta Collins,  Lighting Designer Mimi Jordan Sherin and Composer and Sound Designer Sarah Angliss must be acknowledged because it is only with the meshing of their contributions that the production achieves a certain majesty. The performances are outstanding, especially those of Bobby Cannavale as The Yank and David Constabile as Paddy. The exception is Catherine Combs who shrieks her way through the role of Mildred.  "The Hairy Ape" is especially relevant in this time when there is such a disparity between the rich and the poor.  The Yank's inability to understand this and ultimate descent into madness will rip you apart.

You have, however, a couple of months to see "A Doll's House Part 2" in it's limited run at the Golden Theatre. This is the third play I have seen by the very hot young playwright Lucas Hnath.   "The Christians" at Playwrights Horizons was dull.  "Red Speedo" at  NYTW was marginally better but third time's a charm and this play directed by the omnipresent Sam Gold is pretty perfect . Nora returns home 15 years after she walks out on Torvald and her children in Ibsen's "A Doll's House." My only quibble would be that it would make more sense for it to be 20-25 years later given Laurie Metcalf's age but theatre is all about the suspension of belief, isn't it? Metcalf is outstanding. She owns the stage and her comic timing is impeccable.  Hers is a selfish, narcissistic and devious Nora, not the takeaway from Ibsen's play, that of strong woman finally breaking free from the constraints of an unhappy marriage. And it is delightful to see Chris Cooper return to the stage after over two decades acting the heavy in film and flex his comic muscle as Torvald,  a decent, caring man who wants to do right by Nora. This is not Ibsen's Torvald.  But this is not Ibsen's "A Doll's House." Jayne Houdyshell, as ever, delivers as the faithful housekeeper who raised Nora's children and Condola Rashad as Nora's barely-grown daughter holds her own with Laurie Metcalf, an achievement in itself.

Richard Maxwell's "Samara," the latest offering from The Soho Rep is trickier.  With music and narration by Steve Earle, the play takes place in an indeterminate, possibly futuristic terrain.  The performances are uneven and the play gets lost in it's attempts to be profound.  I admit it left me baffled even as I was hypnotized by the mysterious ending, stage plunged into darkness, smoke rising and the melodious voice of Steve Earle leading us into some oblique landscape in our minds. Sarah Benson has made some unusual and interesting casting choices but the 14 year old actor Jasper Newell as The Messenger was not one of them.  His is a flat, disconnected performance that drains the energy from his interactions with the other actors. The trans actor Becca Blackwell as Manan and Paul Lazar a veteran of the Wooster Group as The Drunk fare better and Vinie Burrows, an African-American actress well into her 80's is outstanding as Agnes a sort of Mother Courage character.  I came away wanting to see her in that Brechtian role.  Is anyone out there listening?

I'm not a fan of one-man/woman plays and "Cry Havoc," conceived and acted by Stephan Wolfert and directed by Eric Tucker, both members of the outstanding Bedlam Theatre Company, didn't do a whole lot to change my mind.  While I found the way in which Wolfert is able to connect his experience as a soldier and a vet to Shakespeare's Richard III, Henry V and, most interestingly, Lady Percy, Hotspur's wife,  well-conceived, I grew a-weary about an hour in.  And I wish I had not stayed past the intermission for the audience focus group.  I'm sure it's different every night but on the night I attended it was more of a group therapy session.  I appreciate Wolfert's desire to make audience members aware of the many ways in which we respond to and are connected to veterans but I think the play itself sends that message.

March Madness

You may already have missed Ars Nova's production of "Sundown, Yellow Moon" by Rachel Bond, one of their playwrights-in-residence.  Anne Kauffman who also directed the excellent "A Life" at Playwright's Horizons last year directed.  The story of bi-racial fraternal twins who return to the small Tennessee college town where they grew up to attend to their divorced father who has been suspended from his teaching job does not address race as one would perhaps expect.  Instead it's about finding and/or losing one's direction in life and the connections that hold us together.  All the performances are outstanding, particularly those of Eboni Booth as Joey, a lonely single academic, and Lilli Cooper as her twin Ray, a gay singer-songwriter.  Peter Friedman is moving as the desperately unhappy father and Greg Keller gives a beautifully nuanced performance as a married poet with whom Joey falls in love. The music by The Bengsons helps carry along the action of the play.  I look forward to seeing more work from Ms. Bond.

Lynn Nottage's "Sweat" at Studio 54 is dull and unoriginal.  I felt like I had seen this play many times before.  I am surprised that The Public moved this play to Broadway after a limited run downtown. Perhaps this was based on the reception of "Ruined," Nottage's previous play at the MTC.  Which I saw.  Which I liked.  "Sweat" takes place in a working-class town in Pennsylvania in 2000 where factory workers are soon to be losing their jobs.  Much of the play takes place in a bar.  It is framed by the story of two young men getting out of prison in 2008 for a crime that it not disclosed until the very end of the play.  It is the story of friendships, falling-outs and loss of livelihood with a dose of racism and xenophobia thrown in.  There's nothing particularly revelatory about the ending. If one hasn't figured it all out about mid-way through the play then perhaps one was asleep.  The play is such a clunky vehicle that it would be unfair to criticize the acting or direction so I'll do them the courtesy of not naming names.

"887" is Robert Lepage's newest brilliant phantasm to arrive at BAM.  For me, nothing Lepage has done has measured up to "The Far Side of the Moon," his 2000 play about an encounter between the architect Frank Lloyd Wright and the Greek-Armenian philopher and spiritual teach Georgi I. Gurdjieff which continues to be my gold standard for his work. In "887" he tackles memory, specifically his own.  887 is the number of his childhood home in Quebec.  He asks why we remember certain things and not others, what triggers memory, why do we remember meaningless events and details and forget important ones?  He addresses the historical and social reality that shaped his identity.  For over two hours he stands on a dark stage and leads us through his memories with the help of illuminated houses, tiny cars, sounds .... We are rapt.

Kneehigh's "946: The Amazing Story of Adolphus Tips" is a very well-performed
'panto" but lacks the sophistication of their "Brief Encounter." This WW2 story of a 12 year old girl who loses her cat, the Tips of the title, and two black American soldiers who try to help her find it is lively and fun.  The actors all play multiple roles and are dizzying in their acrobatic abilities. And, yes, she does find Tips. Emma Rice, as always, proves herself to be an adept director but I wish there had been something more for the adults in the audience.

"Oslo" at Lincoln Center is a wannabe Tom Stoppard/David Hare political play about the 1993 Israeli/Palestinian Peace Agreement.  It's not half bad and at close to three hours that's saying a lot.
Not a great play by any means but well-acted by Jennifer Ehle and Jefferson Mays among others and informative. As directed by the ubiquitous Bartlett Sher, the J.T. Rogers play is a solid and intelligent but derivative, as stated above.  It's the acting is what keeps the play afloat.  In addition to the always excellent Ehle and Mays, Anthony Azizi is a stand-out at Ahmed Qurie, negotiating peace for Arafat, and Michael Aronov brings enormous exuberance to his portrayal of the Israeli negotiator Uri Savir. These two apparently became lifelong friends even if the the peace deal they managed to forge did not last.

February just got a lot brighter...

Director Sarna Lapine knocks it out of the Park with the current production of  her father James Lapine and Stephen Sondheim's "Sunday in the Park with George." Jake Gyllenhaal as both Seurat and his probable great-grandson George proves again that he has the chops to be a Broadway star and he doesn't look half bad in the process. He's more youthful and sexy than Mandy Patinkin was in the original production although he doesn't have quite the vocal prowess of the master.   Annaleigh Ashford is his match as both Seurat's model and aging granddaughter (young George's grandmother), not as vulnerable as Bernadette Peters was but with her gorgeous vocals she makes Dot and Marie her own.  The production is visually luscious, even the contemporary light sculptures created by George add rather than the distract from the pointillism. The shifting tableau on the Ile de la Grande Jatte is voluptuous and the musical repetition of the "Sunday" is intoxicating.

"Escaped Alone" at BAM is the latest oeuvre from the great British playwright Caryl Churchill.  Four women of a bit more than a certain age sit in a garden making small talk. The veteran British actresses chew the scenery to our delight and one, Linda Bassett, steps out periodically to describe her apocryphal imaginings that seem to come straight out of P.D. James "Children of Men."  But the small talk is not just small talk.  The other three actresses, Debroah Findlay, Kika Markham and June Watson all have their private moments in which they disclose their personal hells and one of the women is a murderer... And so the afternoon passes.

Will Eno's "Wakey, Wakey" at Signature is a tour-de-force for the actor Michael Emerson with echoes of Beckett's "Waiting for Godot."  A man is in a room alone.  A man is waiting to die.  A man wants a connection.  January Lavoy provides some comfort, or perhaps not, as the hospice nurse who arrives to keep him company.  There is much talk but also silences that carry more weight than any words. The play is a profound meditation on what life is to the dying. I could have done with all the flash and bang and balloons at the end of the play though.

"The Moors," a new play by Jen Silverman produced by The Playwrights Realm at the Duke, is a must! It's a wacked-out tale of a family strongly resembling the Brontes ... and a dog ... and a Moor Hen.  It pushes just about every boundary: time, space, believability.  Tightly directed by Mike Donohue and featuring an talented and versatile cast this gothic tale is both hilarious and macabre. I have to cite the Set Designer Dane Laffry for his bizaare design. I wasn't familiar with the playwright before but I will be watching eagerly for her next play.

Unfortunately the less said about "The Light Years" a new play by Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen at Playwrights Horizons the better.  That's all.

February, Halftime

One enters "The Object Lesson" at NYTW into what seems to be someone's attic or garage full to bursting with boxes of a lifetime of junk and are expected to wander around for the first 15-20 minutes of the play "exploring" what is in the boxes.  At a certain point audience members are guided to sit among the boxes and the actor/creator Geoff Sobelle appears dragging somewhat larger boxes which he proceeds to unbox to find a chair, a table, a lamp and various other set pieces. He settles into his comfortable chair and opens with a one-sided telephone conversation which is played back to us at a later point when we get to hear the other side. Too clever by half! This might be fine except that he repeats the exercise later in the play. He tells stories of important times in his life triggered by objects that he finds in various boxes and at times chooses audience members to participate, much to their discomfort. He is primarily a mime(ugh) and the play ends with him opening a box that contains his life. He pulls object after object out of the "bottomless" box for about 20 minutes but it feels like several lifetimes. The play is ostensibly directed by David Neumann but it's not evident that he had much of a hand in the production which involves a lot of self-indulgent navel gazing. The whole thing is like a bad acting exercise.

Brandon Jacobs-Jenkins has redeemed himself in my book with "Everybody" at The Signature Theatre.  Jacobs-Jenkins last play, at LTC, "War" was unwatchable and before that "Gloria" at the Vineyard theatre was just bland.  Both plays followed on the heels of "An Octoroon" at Soho Rep where he played with theatrical form and race to brilliant effect.  Perhaps his talent lies in his mastery of being able to rework old texts.   "Everyman" is a morality tale from the Middle Ages, dull even in its time, I expect, and a tick off the list of important plays to study for a student of theatre history.  A sinner (read "everyman") is going to hell but he is given the opportunity to bring someone along with him if he can find anyone willing to do so.   It's no surprise that he exits the world alone but "Everybody" brings the action into the present day with a cast that swaps out the title role on a nightly basis.  It's hard to single out particular actors because they are almost all Everybody in the program but MaryLouise Burke is stellar as the befuddled Devil. And once again Lila Neugebauer ("The Wolves") proves invaluable as a director.

As directed by Mark Dornfor-May, the South Africa Isango Ensemble and the Young Vic bring vitality to A Man of Good Hope at BAM, a true story of one man's journey across the continent of Africa, from Somalia to Ethiopia to South Africa. There is much heartbreak along the way but there is music and dancing and even joy.  There are even similarities to "Everybody," a young man looking for companionship along the road to his fate which in this case is his rosy dream of what his life as an immigrant will be like in the United States.  The story as too linear for my taste but overall a job well done.

"Bull in a China Shop" at the Claire Tow Theatre at Lincoln Center is a yawn.  The playwright Bryna Turner brings nothing new to the table in this pedestrian tale of President Woolley of Mount Holoyoke (the "Bull") and her lover and fellow academician, Marks, at the turn of the century, a revolutionary time for women's rights in this country.  The director Lee Sunday Evans brought some punch to the recent [Porto] at The Bushwick Starr but this new play seems very tired.  There is nothing interesting or fresh about the storytelling nor the story of same sex love in academia.  If you want to see a similar story but one that really holds up over time, check out Lillian Hellman's "The Children's Hour."

And, lastly, Marin Ireland brings life to "On The Exhale" an hour-long monologue by Martin Zimmerman at The Roundabout from an academic who is obsessed with the recent gun massacres on school campuses and her personal safety.  When her 7-year-old son is instead the victim of such an incident, she becomes equally obsessed with the gun that killed him.  The writing is nothing special but Marin Ireland, directed by Leigh Silverman, gives a nuanced and terrifying performance.

January Blew In ...

"[Porto]" at the Bushwick Starr was pretty thin stuff.  Two hipsters walk into a bar... You get the picture. Following on the heels of Clare Barron's wonderful "I'll Never Love Again" (One of my best pics for 2016) at the Starr, this was a let-down.  I feel really strongly about supporting off-off Broadway theatre companies presenting works by up-and-coming playwrights but the play by Kate Benson didn't bring anything new to the table and, apart from a few top-notch performances, in particular Noel Joseph Allain as Doug the Bartender and Julia Sirna-Frest in the title role, there was little of interest unless it's impelling for you to follow the lonely lives of singletons in Brooklyn. I think Benson imagines herself clever by throwing in an on-stage conversation between Simone de Beauvoir and Gloria Steinem discussing feminism. Perhaps this would have been a more interesting play?  I found no fault in the direction by Lee Sunday Evans who will be directing the upcoming LCt3 production of "Bull in a China Shop" by Bryna Turner.  I hope Evans will have more to work with.

Fortunately for me, the follow-up to that disappointing trek out to Bushwick were two extraodinary productions, "The Tempest" at St. Ann's Warehouse in Dumbo and "The Beauty Queen of Leenane" at BAM Harvey.

"The Tempest" is the third in a trilogy of Shakespeare's plays following "Julius Caesar" and "Henry IV" with an all-female cast directed by Phyllida Lloyd and starring Harriet Walter.  Set in a woman's prison in upstate in New York (Bedford Hills?), "The Tempest" is framed by the story of an American woman named Judy Clark (Harriet Walter) who is in prison for life after having participated in a politically motivated crime much like the Brink's robbery.  Hence, the prison is the island to which she as Prospero is exiled.  Presumably we all know the story of the "The Tempest" but what makes the play fresh is the way the story has been woven into a tale of prison life once again using the same actors who were so brilliant in "Henry IV."   I didn't feel transported as I did in "Henry IV" but it worked it's magic.

The Druid's current production of "The Beauty Queen of Leenane" directed by Garry Hynes at the BAM Harvey is a stunner.  I didn't see the Tony Award 1998 Broadway production but am betting that this rivals and even surpasses that  production.  Long a fan of Martin McDonagh since seeing "The Pillowman" on Broadway in the 2005, I knew that this would be a very dark fable.  Set in Ireland, it's the story of an aging mother Mag and her adult daughter Maureen who acts as her caretaker. Theirs is an aggressively hostile relationship and when the daughter has a chance to break away it seems to be thwarted by the mother.  I say "seems" because what you see is not necessarily the reality. Marie Mullen who played Maureen in the 1998 production is here cast as the mother.  So convincing is her portrayal of an elderly infirm woman that it's hard to imagine her as the beautiful 40 year old Maureen less than 20 years ago, a portrayal for which she won a Tony.  The performances of Aisling O'Sullivan as  Maureen, Marty Rea as her presumable suitor Pato Dooley and Aaron Monaghan as Pato's lay-about brother Ray were all seamless.  But prepare to be shocked.

Oh, December

The National Theatre of Scotland never fails to deliver.  The two previous shows were at St. Ann's Warehouse: the award-winning "Black Watch" about a troupe of soldiers in Afghanistan and "Let the Right One In" a theatrical adaptation of the very successful film of the same name about a child vampire looking for connection.  The current production, "The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart," is much looser as presented at the McKittrick Hotel in Chelsea, home to "Sleep No More." We meet in the bar of the hotel, sitting comfortably in groups at tables and plied with free shots of Scotch. And at intermission, when I was feeling weak from hunger having not had a proper lunch, tea sandwiches were served.  The play takes place, in and around the audience and bar, at an academic conference in Scotland.  Prudencia Hart is to deliver her paper on the Devil as portrayed in Scottish ballads but instead comes face to face with him.  Its clever and fun and takes the mickey out of academic theorists.  Plus, free booze.

"Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812" ,however, did not deliver for me.  I haven't read "War and Peace" the big Russian novel by Tolstoy on which it was based but have always assumed it to be deep and tragic. "Natasha, Pierre..." cannot make this claim. The play, as conceived by Dave Malloy and directed by the current New York theatre darling Rachel Chavkin, is a silly circus act operetta. Josh Groban was absent on the day I went but I can't imagine that his Pierre would have upped the action much.  This production was originally mounted by Ars Nova but I much preferred their "Futurity," a musical collaboration with Soho Rep about the imagined correspondence between Ada Lovelace and a Civil War Soldier.  While that production did not lack for originality, "Natasha, Pierre ..." draws heavily on "Candide."   The ensemble though is particularly good and one performance stood out for me, that of Lucas Steele as the rascal Anatole.

"Finian's Rainbow" at the Irish Rep was an especially appropriate musical to mount in this past election year, the subject being racism in America. Too bad the postage stamp sized stage in the newly renovated theatre on West 22nd was too small for such a grand production.  Singing yes, but where were they supposed to dance? Melissa Errico has a gorgeous voice but was perhaps a bit long in the tooth for Sharon. Charlotte Moore did a fine job directing the excellent cast and the score by Yip Harburg and Burton Lane is to die for but the Choreographer Barry McNabb had an insurmountable task given the size of the stage.

And, finally, "The Encounter" written, directed and performed by Simon McBurney.  I wanted to love it.  I really did.  I put on my headphones and was ready for the encounter.  And the set-up was splendid. We meet McBurney at his home in London and start with putting on the set of earphones attached to our seat. He gives us a lesson in how the earphones are going to work at the same time as he repeatedly tries to put his young daughter to bed. This is actually really entertaining and surprisingly engrossing.  Unfortunately once in the story he is telling, that of a Western explorer lost in the Amazon rain forest, starts in ernest, everything begins to go in slo-mo.   I was in snooze land by the time our hero is rescued and McBurney can go to bed (or convince his young daughter to at least).

Best of 2016:   Sarah DeLappe's "The Wolves" at the Duke
                       Simon Stephen's "Heisenberg" on Broadway
                       Cesar Alvarez's "Futurity" Ars Nova
                       Clare Barron's "I'll Never Love Again" at the Bushwick Starr

Honorable Mentions:     Adam Bock's "A Life" at Playwright's Horizons
                                    The National Theatre of Scotland's "The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart"                                           at the McKittrick Hotel

Overhyped:    Bess Wohl's  "Small Mouth Sounds" at Signature
                     Dave Malloy's "Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812" on Broadway

Worst of 2016:   Branden Jacobs-Jenkins' "War" at the Claire Tow Theatre Lincoln Center
                         Alice Birch's "Revolt, She Said" at Soho Rep
                         The Bard's  "The Winter's Tale" at BAM

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.