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Lombardi – Review

There are enough gratifying aspects to Lombardi to make it 90 minutes well spent.  The (very thin) play by Eric Simonson, is based on a biography.  I don’t know enough about sport to comment on the accuracy of the football history.  (Let’s be frank, what I know of sport I learned from Damn Yankees.)  There are beautiful moments in this play that are by no means the result of Thomas Kail’s (In The Heights, Brokeology) direction.  Having now seen Lombardi and Brokeology I am left believing that Mr. Kail is adept at knowing his audience and creating a format that will appease.  What he is not necessarily skilled at is helping his actors connect resulting in a complete lack of dramatic tension.  But he does know his audience.  This production, at Circle in The Square, is filled with lighting cues, videos and sound effects.  But what a joy to see theatre in the round!  While one of the actors (Keith Knobbs) seemed to have a bubble over his head reading “pivot, pivot, pivot,” most of the actors seemed entirely comfortable in the venue.  Theatre in the round can be such a wonderful method of drawing the audience into the experience, and I do believe the format helped this production a great deal.  It is difficult to asses performances when there simply isn’t that much with which to work, but there was one clear stand-out.  Judith Light plays Vince Lombardi’s wife Marie and steals the show (I would use a football metaphor, but who are we kidding.)  Ms Light while known predominately for her soap opera and sitcom work, is a very accomplished stage actress (Wit.)  She owns the stage for every moment she is on.  She manages to do so without any cheap tricks (which would be simply disastrous in such a small venue) but by the sheer force of her embodiment of her character.  Dan Lauria plays her husband Vince, and from what people tell me, Mr. Lombardi was ferocious?  I wouldn’t know that from Mr. Lauria’s performance.  He was likable enough (which is probably not helpful for this role) but the stage is clearly not his home.  I have decided that he was saving his voice (I saw a matinee) and I have no issue with that, however, he seemed to also be relying on his voice to do all the work for him.  That can be a problem.  Even so, how wonderful to see an un-miked play!!  I was almost dizzy listening to sound actually change as actors moved!  How novel.  How wonderful.  The size and style of the theatre, and the lack of amplification was joyous enough for this reviewer, but added into the equation was the fact that the majority of the audience were first time theatre goers.  Now, this might have been the ONLY time they were to venture into a theatre, but that’s okay too.  Much has been made of the website tutorials that existed for Lombardi fans (“it is customary to applaud for performances that please you.”) but I say “hurray.”  Come to the theatre to see the football memorabilia in the lobby.  Take photos of yourselves (in football regalia) next to full size Lombardi photos.  Flip through the Playbill declaring, “I’d see the Blue Man Group in anything.”  Come one, come all.  There is a whole lot of things theatre should be (affordable, magical, etc.) but what it should never be is elitist.
The only downside to this “theatre for beginners” phenomenon was the high school class sitting behind me (who arrived 15 minutes late.)  Their behavior would have appalled you.  When the curtain calls concluded, and the house lights came up, I dear reader, had my own curtain speech to give.  Please picture if you will, my 5 foot 7 self looming over slumping sitting sullen teenagers.  Ahem.  “I’ve listened to you for 90 minutes, now you are going to listen to me.  This is not your living room, this is a theatre, and that is not YouTube it is a play.  Those are real people down there performing.  They deserve your respect and you will give it to them.”

I think I lifted some of that from Herbie’s speech to the stage manager in Witchita’s only burlesque theatre.

 
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Posted by on August 20, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Time Stands Still – Review

At the very heart of Time Stands Still is the tension between two primary human relationships; that which we have with the world and that which we have with our primary partner.  The thought, and emotion provoking play by Donald Marguiles (Brooklyn Boy, Dinner with Friends) is directed by Daniel Sullivan (Proof, The Homecoming) and playing at the lovely Cort Theatre.  This four character Manhattan Theatre Club production moved to Broadway with only one change in cast, Christina Ricci for Alicia Silverstone.

The play, set entirely in a decidedly not posh Williamsburg Brooklyn loft, is the story of two couples.  It is a tight, lovely, moving and solid play that can only be called a(cringe inducing) “grown-up” play.  Perhaps I am attaching this moniker after seeing several productions focused on the angst of twenty somethings?  More likely it is due to the very adult subject matter.  How does one reconcile one’s place in the world with one’s sense of self?  The primary couple, James (Brian d’Arcy James) and Sarah (Laura Linney) have just returned from Iraq, she with intense physical scars, and he with equally intense psychological scars.  James is a freelance journalist and Sarah and acclaimed photographer employed by an acclaimed magazine.  The other couple in the mix is Sarah’s editor (and former torch carrying paramour) Richard (Eric Bogosian) and his new very young girlfriend Mandy (Christina Ricci.)  The central story is how James and Sarah will now move forward.  The layers of these four characters are fascinating and are teased out with fine directing nuance.  If I had any complaint it was that Brian d’Arcy James seemed to be a bit restrained in his performance.  I was left wondering if Mr. Sullivan intentionally designed the production in this manner so as to allow for Ms. Linney more of a spotlight, or if in fact he was being very faithful to the script.  All four characters go through palpable metamorphoses.  It is a testament to the actors that I wanted to pummel their characters with questions to tease out  more about their motivations.  How much of Sarah’s life choices are predicated on her trust fund?  Would she be so quick to do the work she does if she wasn’t supported by someone for which she has utter disdain?  And what of James’ spiral into his new world of fear (which is demonstrated just a bit heavy handedly by the former war reporter now wearing a bicycle helmet.)  Is James’ fear now as much as a fulcrum as Sarah’s money is for her?  Richard and Mandy deserve a spin-off play of their own, so too are their lives mesmerizing.  We watch their relationship evolve into a solid celebration of positivity while the mature relationship (they’ve been together 8 1/2 years) of Sarah and James can not survive in the lightness.  To my delight, Marguiles presents the dark side as an affect of immaturity.  There is a lovely moment when Mandy explains how utterly childish it is to wrap oneself in angst and despair.

The performances of all four of these actors are simply magnificent.  Ms Ricci plays younger quite convincingly and has a graceful and solid stage presence.  Mr. Bogosian seems at home both on the stage and in the Brooklyn loft.  Mr. James and Ms. Linney are beautiful together and apart.  This is an incredibly thought provoking play, that also includes some laughs (on of them quite cheap, but I’m in a forgiving mood.)  I am not sure if it will speak to every age group, but if you can see 30 ahead or can remember 55, this play will resonate deeply.  The final scene is quietly powerful and quite beautiful, causing a large lump in my throat.

 
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Posted by on August 20, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown – Review

It seems utterly absurd to even try and review a show after viewing what was ostensibly a dress rehearsal.  But it is indeed that very phenomenon that compels me to blather.  I have often paid to see dress rehearsals (most often of City Center’s Encores) and find nothing terribly off putting about the experience, it can in fact, even be exhilarating, deluding me into feeling as if I am part of the experience.  What was particularly off putting about yesterday’s performance was that on top of being a very difficult show (technically) it was also a brand-new show.  What specific brand of arrogance drives the creative team to not engage in out of town tryouts?  I’ll never know.
I have not seen the movie upon which this musical is based.  I’m not sure that should be a precursor for seeing a show anyway.  I did not enter the theatre with any of my usual “book” fatigue, derived from recent movie-to-show productions or television-to-movie productions (really? have all the writers been swept away by evil aliens?)  I entered the clumsy yet beautiful Belasco theatre, knowing I was in for an adventure and having zero expectations.
Let it be said straightaway, that an opportunity to see Miss Patti LuPone, Laura Benanti and (even an under utilized) De’Adre Aziza even sitting on a stool and talking about what they have loved and loss and wore, would get me to the theatre.  As completely crazy as Women on the Verge is (and it is) I feel I got my $50 worth just with Patti singing on a bare stage wearing nothing but a little black dress and with Laura running across the stage in her underwear (during a technical glitch) stage whispering to the audience “everything’s
gonna be fine.”  Priceless.
But the show?  Do I start with the obvious; the absurd Spanish accents yet utter lack of Latinos in any of the leads?  Do I mention the miscasting of Brian Stokes Mitchell, or perhaps the mis-writing of his character?  How about the superfluous constant moving of huge scenery and scene-ettes that do nothing to move the story?  Then there are the gratuitous scenes (so many of them) that reek of an unchecked ego.  (All that was needed was a no-man on the creative team.)  There is a cab (driven by the wonderful Danny Burstein) that simply must be stopped.  It is awkward, cumbersome and does nothing except make ridiculous amounts of noise.  Speaking of noise; the sets are really really loud!
The sound is completely off on the show, but I’ve no doubt that will be ironed out in time.  You know it’s bad when Patti can’t be heard over the orchestra!  The orchestra is divine, by the way, and it was wonderful to hear an overture (no matter how truncated.)  The voices are all dreamy too, as is the not very memorable music.  The lyrics themselves?  Eh.  The songs and structure of the show are very formulaic.  Everything in between is nuts though.  Speaking of which, I can’t help but wonder about the expression on the face of the insurance underwriter when he/she discovered that his female leads would be dangled from harnesses, swinging on pool toys.  Miss Benanti has a history of very serious neck injury, and Miss LuPone is a national treasure.  Was that visual effect (used twice) really worth the risk?  And what did it mean anyway?  Speaking of risk; what’s with the large incredibly stinky fire that is lit on stage?  Excessive and scary in such a technically awkward show, not to mention a serious liability for anyone in the audience with breathing difficulties.  I couldn’t help but think, while watching some of these gimmicks, that a 14 year old boy had staged this show.
I’m still not entirely sure what the story was/is.  The characters aren’t given much room to develop and the transitions to songs which ostensibly are to move the story forward, simply don’t exist.  I don’t mind that there isn’t much of a story and the action is confusing.  I really don’t.  I mind laziness and arrogance and weird out of context dance numbers.
All that said, I would see it again.  When would I ever again have the chance to see Sheri Renee Scott, Patti, Laura, De”Adre belt out (even a middling number) together?

 
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Posted by on August 20, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Mr & Mrs Fitch – Review

Mr. & Mrs. Fitch at the Second Stage Theatre is a rollicking good time and should be treated as such. John Lithgow and Jenifer Ehle, in the title roles are directed by Scott Ellis to absolute symphonic perfection. They are utterly delicious to watch on an astounding set by Allen Moyer. This new play by Douglas Carter Beane (Little Doug Laughed) is going to be an audience favorite despite its deep flaws. The dialogue is witty and fast paced and at times quite clever. No critique, mine or others changes that fact. But oh, the flaws.

Mr. & Mrs. Fitch live in a 2,000 square foot duplex loft in a desirable section of Manhattan. Presumably they do so on Mr. Fitch’s salary as a gossip columnist. The play takes place today; twitter, blogging and prominent MacBooks confirm this fact. Yet, the costumes are out of a Noel Coward play. They are gorgeous, but as incongruent as the scathing epitaphs Mr. Fitch hurls at Mrs. Fitch, seemingly out of the blue. This appears to be an homage to Albee’s Virginia Woolf, but they are just disturbing coming from the mouth of an otherwise pleasing fellow. This fellow, we are told, prefers men, yet Mrs. Fitch makes scathing witticisms about bisexuals (bi now, gay later) and not to offend her husband. Mr. Fitch’s boss, presumably a newspaper editor, calls him in the middle of the night and leaves the most outrageous message on his answering machine. It is difficult to believe that someone in the news business would be so obtuse as to leave a permanent record of berating homosexual slurs slung at an employee.

Mr. Fitch has a novel within him and disdain for his day job. Mr. & Mrs. Fitch go to parties with people they hate and scurry back home to type out a column in five minutes. The plot, as it were, then centers around the fact that they create a celebrity, a la A Face in the Crowd. Why they do this and what they hope to gain from it, is not entirely clear, but it makes for interesting comments.

We discover that Mrs. Fitch, the more fast paced witty raconteur, is from New Jersey and attended public school. Apparently, this is code for “wrong side of the tracks.” There are moments when this word smith is turned into Judy Holliday in Born Yesterday. She attributes fine chocolates, watches and neutrality to the Swedes, and makes obvious errors about Edgar Lee Masters. What’s even more appalling, is the scene (written for laughs) in which she uses the Joy of Cooking to figure out how to crack an egg, and must find the printed instructions for the stove? Who IS this woman? She was raised in New Jersey, clearly not with a silver spoon, does not work, has no household help (we know this because there is clutter in the house) but can not crack an egg? Weren’t we subjected to this display in Adam’s Rib? The incongruity spills into the dialogue too as Mr. Beane seems uncomfortable trusting the audience. He is most comfortable with witty
repartee or turns of phrase, and most uncomfortable putting voice to intellectualism. It is not clear whether he simply does not have a grasp on the lofty content, or a grasp on how to deliver it (my money is on the former.) There are clumsy redundant explanatory lines such as “He was with his excruciatingly young Nabokovian lover” that are cringe inducing. There is a rather desperate Sarah Palin joke as well (why not stamp an expiration date on the play?)

Both acts are interrupted by travel monologues, first she, then he. They move nothing in the story, and bring the real strength of the play (their tennis match of words) to a screeching halt. The set, though ravishing and a decorator’s dream of balance and color, left a few questions in my mind. Would the Fitches who have nothing but disdain for the common, really have Wally Lamb books? Would there be a copy of the Yiddish Policemen’s Union on the table? I found the fact that I had the same books and ideas as the Fitches mildly disconcerting. Mr. Beane should have tried harder to align the characters he was creating with what he knew to be true.

 
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Posted by on August 20, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Race – Review

I (finally) saw David Mamet’s Race this weekend at the fabulous Ethel Barrymore Theatre.  Much has been written about Mamet’s latest plays being “less than Mamet.”  I am not a huge proponent of holding artists to a rigid historical framework, yet went to this production with just a bit of apprehension.  If the critics (professional and water cooler alike) find Mamet’s more recent works to be less explosive and edgy, I would agree.  If they are equating the fading of sizzle and the increase of substance to be an indication of talent slippage, I would disagree.  Race is powerful in the way that Mamet is always powerful.  The use of language is intoxicating, the rhythms hypnotic, and the respect for the audience palpable.  We are made to question the questions posed.  There is subtext that is presented, not pretentiously, but dramatically.  There are elements in the storyline similar to Doubt, and clearly the audience left the theatre in a similar; “did he, didn’t he?” manner.  The cast (in classic Mamet style) is comprised of four characters.  Also, classically Mamet, is the poor female character.  Whether the cartoonishly drawn female has become his intentional hallmark or not, it is there, as predictable as a Hirschfeld “Nina.”

The plot centers around a wealthy white man (Richard Thomas) accused of raping a black woman.  The attorneys considering representing Mr. Thomas are played exquisitely by James Spader and David Alan Grier.  Their assistant is a young woman of color (Kerry Washington.)  Directed by Mr. Mamet, on an old fashioned slanted stage, creating great sight lines and interesting subtext.  Mr. Thomas displays utterly convincing mannerism of the manor born.  There was a moment, when Spader, Grier, and Thomas were on stage together, that I briefly thought of the different decades of pop-culture they represented (In Living Color, Brat Pack, Waltons) but that is entirely my own issue, and not that of the actors or the production!

Ms. Washington is not served by her part or direction.  She is stilted and not believable as a person, let alone a neophyte or con-artist (we’re never sure which.)  Elizabeth Moss was recently able to break out of the Mamet female stranglehold in Speed the Plow.  I would suggest, that Ms Moss is the exception.  The only other distraction in the production is a strange pause between scenes in the second act.  It is not needed dramatically or technically and is just kind of bizarre.

If you love language, if you have any interest in race, politics or sociology, or if you simply love seeing brilliant performances, this is the play for you.  It was entirely refreshing to leave a play feeling intellectually challenged and respected.  The cast could be perceived as interlopers (although all are stage actors) and this could be seen by some as a ‘bold face’ name production.  It did not feel star studded in the least (even William H Macy and his wife, seated in front of me did not disturb the lack of glamorousness of the production.)  Perhaps when all is said and done, I’ll take multi-layered substance over sizzle any day.

 
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Posted by on August 20, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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