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On A Clear Day You Can See Forever – Review

22 Nov

A new Broadway Baby has been born, and delivered to an unstable home.  Jessie Mueller is making a show-stopping debut in On A Clear Day You Can See Forever in what used to be the starring role of Daisy/Melinda.  This revival, starring Harry Connick Jr. (Dr. Mark Bruckner) has been “re-conceived” within an inch of its life.  (On the heels of the “new” Porgy and Bess, this phenomenon really begs the question; “If you don’t care for the original show, why are you reviving it?”)

The basic premise of all former productions including the film is; a wonderfully talented woman (Daisy/Melinda) with low self-esteem seeks out a psychiatrist to assist her in quitting smoking.  Through clinical hypnosis sessions, her past life (in the 19th century) is revealed.  After a few sessions, the psychiatrist falls in love with the recovered memory.  With music by Burton Lane, and book and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner, it was a kicky addition to the 1960s musical genre.  The songs aren’t terribly memorable (save for the title song) but there is a certain charm about the show.

Today, with approximately 20 producers (including Mr. Lerner’s daughter) and a new book by Peter Parnell, the show is almost unrecognizable.  The character of Daisy, is now a gay man (David Turner) when awake in present day.  The time period (of present day) is now 1974 and the flashbacks are 1943.  Mr. Turner’s character, David, has none of the charm and talents of the original character Daisy.  He is a milquetoast slight child/man who is hesitant to move in with his boyfriend on their one-year anniversary.  The boyfriend, Warren (Drew Gehling) makes many musical and non-musical references to their one day getting married.  Because that is what homosexual men in 1974 evidently talked about.  Changing the gender and sexual orientation of the lead serves no purpose except self-indulgent ones (whatever they may be.)  It adds nothing to the story, if anything it takes away any believability and creates awkward moments.  Is my world view to be challenged by accepting it is not offensive to suggest a homosexual man is no more than a repressed woman inside?  And while we’re at it, am I not to be offended by a (presumably) all white cast?  The biggest of all the crimes of this “re-conception” is that it diminishes Jessie Mueller’s role to that of a walk-on.  Her voice and demeanor are reminiscent of a young Liza Minnelli.  She is funny and poignant, has incredible stage presence and possesses a voice that is not to be believed.  She stopped the show with her number Ev’ry Night At Seven.  That second act number and a ballroom dance number (in Act I with David, Melinda and Dr.Bruckner) are the true gems of the show.

Directed and “re-conceived” by Michael Mayer, the show has very little dancing, which really is just as well, as the ensemble includes not one dancer.  The two requisite chorus song and dance numbers are dull and give the impression of fulfilling a requisite.  But the ballroom dance number (Joann M. Hunter, choreographer) is wonderfully conceived and executed.

The set (Christine Jones) is simple and streamlined and a bit noisy.  The costumes (Catherine Zuber) are somewhat schizophrenic.  The 1943 costumes are simply lovely, they are appropriately costume-y, to portray a waitress, band singer, etc.  The 1974 ensemble of the show is dressed as H.R. Puffentstuff extras.  They are color coordinated cartoon-y interpretations of how students (in their 30s) dressed.  Mr. Connick is dressed in a 2011 suit and tie.  His long suffering colleague Sharone (the lovely Kerry O’Malley) is dressed for a Cosmopolitan photo layout.  She has more costume changes than anyone else, and each wrap dress is stunning.  There is nothing about her character to suggest she is a fashionista, but I enjoyed the clothes.

Clumsy, self-serving revisions aside, it can not go without mention, that a director needs to work very very hard to strip Harry Connick Jr. of all charm and humor.  Granted, Dr. Bruckner is not the most scintillating character ever conceived, but in this production he is on thorazine.  Luckily, Dr. Bruckner has many songs, and oh to listen to Harry Connick Jr. sing from just a few feet away!  But if you have ever seen Mr. Connick Jr. live, even having just a casual conversation, you will not recognize him in this fugue state.  Meanwhile, much exuberance and stage time is given to the character of Muriel (Sarah Stiles,) David’s roommate.  She is a non- traditionally attractive quasi ethnic looking friend to all gay men (get it?)  I’m sure she’s a talented woman, but this role is a caricature and employs one of those novelty voices that I don’t enjoy (think Kristin Chenoweth as a muppet.)  Giving this character more stage time than Jessie Mueller, is a poor but fixable choice.

And some fixing they will do.  I saw this production one week into previews and on the night the second act was entirely re-worked (and ran 20 minutes over.)  Removing the misguided attempts at laugh lines (Cher and Barbra Streisand cringe inducing “jokes”) is an easy cut.  There is time to fix the sound and give Harry Connick Jr. more to work with, but the re-conceived conceit is not going anywhere.  I am not a stolid traditionalist, I like new things.  I loved Mr. Mayer’s Spring Awakening.  But I am not a fan of changing something just to say it’s new.  I am not buying that something is improved just because it’s changed either.  And I will never ever support squandering talent.  Ms. Mueller deserves a better debut and Mr. Connick Jr. deserves a better role.

 
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Posted by on November 22, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Sons of the Prophet – Review

03 Nov

Sons of the Prophet, a new play by Stephen Karam, has recently opened at the Roundabout at Laura Pels.  The play is a beautifully rendered portrait of broken people.  The (euphemistic) curtain rises with the frightening realistic sounds (M.L. Dogg) of a car crash.  The remaining two hour narrative then centers around the accident, which eventually claims the life of the Douaihy patriarch.  It is a relatively simple story which is told with and honesty and artistry rarely seen.  Directed by Peter DuBois, and with a cast of eight ranging from award winning Joanna Gleason to those making their New York premiere, the production achieves musicality.  When David Mamet plays are done well, they can sound like a well seasoned jazz band.  Sons of the Prophet is jazz as well, but gentler, softer, more whole notes than black keys.  There is a realism, as in when people talk over one another, partnered with perfectly modulated (non-amplified) tones that intensifies the drama.

The Douaiy family is distantly related to Khalil Gibran (hence the title of the play) and projected references to his tome are used to wonderful effect.  The sets (Anna Louizos) are very clever and are incredibly helpful in a play with more than a dozen scenes.  This play is crafted so well, and is so very honest in its depiction of human beings.  But it is the performances that really make it soar.  Ms. Gleason (looking ravishing) plays her character, Gloria, as if she is made of glass.  It is a gorgeous performance of a not entirely sympathetic character.  The other standouts (for me) were Yusef Bulos (Uncle Bill) and Chris Perfetti (Charles.)  I felt as if I was voyeur, peeking into the window of an interesting family.

It is also worth mentioning that this very moving drama is hysterically funny.  Knee slapping, choking on candy, funny.  I know it’s a good time when I get dirty looks from those around me.  I think it safe to say that this play will appeal to almost everyone.  If laughing, or crying is not your thing, perhaps the scathing commentary on the state of our nation’s healthcare system might appeal to you.  This production will stay with me for some time.  There were so many moments, silent and otherwise, that spoke to the complexities of life.  At its core, it is a meditation on life.  A messy meditation, created not for pages with pithy chapter titles, but for very talented artists and a grateful audience.

 
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Posted by on November 3, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Man and Boy – Review

16 Oct

The Rondabout Theatre Company has mounted a revival of Terence Rattigan’s Man and Boy.  For those with a pressing engagement or abbreviated attention span, I will cut to the chase: it is phenomenal.

Frank Langella (‘nough said?) stars in this drama set in Greenwich Village in 1934.  Directed by Maria Aiken, the fluid and balanced action unfolds in real time one October evening.  Man and Boy, written in 1961, feels terribly modern both in its storyline and style.  Langella’s character, Gregor Antonescu is an international financier, credited with resuscitating the European markets after World War I.  He is debonair, larger than life, steely, and by his own admission, without conscious.  Things have come to a bit of a nasty head for G.A., as he is known to his trusty assistant Sven Johnson (Michael Siberry) who bears a second cousin resemblance to Max in Sunset Boulevard.  Sven seeks out the Greenwich Village apartment of G.A.’s estranged son Basil (Adam Driver) for a clandestine business meeting.  Basil has denounced his lineage and lives as a piano playing socialist in a dreary basement apartment (designed by Derek McLane.)  Underneath the thin layer of his disguise is Basil’s adulation of dear old dad.

Not surprisingly G.A.’s impulse upon seeing his son for the first time in five years, is to offer the young man to his closeted business adversary.  Prostituting one’s young, does not earn any parenting awards, but it feels completely in character for G.A.  There is nothing surprising about the turn in the story, yet it must be said that the matinee audience (of a certain age and with just a hint of bridge and tunnel A.O.C.) giggled nervously with the implications.  This storyline is not meant to be funny, and in 1934 Greenwich Village socialist circles, homosexual activity would not be unknown.  I suspect a different audience would have a different response.

The cast is perfectly balanced out by Basil’s girlfriend Carol (Virginia Kull,) the business nemesis Mark (Zach Grenier) his accountant Beeston (Brian Hutchinson) and  G.A.’s second wife the (purchased title of) Countess (Francesca Faridany.)  The relationships and interactions between these characters is completely thought out and believable.  Most of us won’t commandeer a basement apartment in an attempt to rescue our international financial empire, but we can relate and understand the words and actions of all of these characters.  That is the mark of truth in writing.

This production has an overall British feel to it, no accident considering the lineage of some of the creative team.  There is a simple intelligence to the production that this play richly deserves.  There are plays that take (well rewarded) effort on the part of the audience.  I love Martin McDonagh, but you better not blink for 2 hours or you will be lost.  Additionally, plays steeped in symbolism can be a delicious intellectual exercise.  But there is something to say for clean, emotionally true drama.  And when it’s exquisitely executed, it is a must see.

 
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Posted by on October 16, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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We Live Here – Review

26 Sep

We Live Here, by Zoe Kazan (granddaughter of Elia,) and directed by Sam Gold is in previews at The Manhattan Theatre Club.  Set in a beautifully designed (John Lee Beatty) New England home on the eve of a wedding celebration, family secrets and raw anguish are revealed.

The play opens with the mother (an almost unrecognizable Amy Irving) opening her daughter Ali’s wedding gifts.  To save her the trouble.  A brittle, insecure, youngest daughter Dinah (Betty Gilpin, daughter of Jack Gilpin) arrives to almost zero acknowledgment by her mother.  Supposedly, mommy is simply overwhelmed by the details of the small family wedding.  The bride Ali (Jessica Collins) arrives with her fiance Sandy (Jeremy Shamos) whom the parents suspect is gay.  He enters carrying lilacs.  There is a marked tension and dislike between the sisters, who are 11 years apart.  Daddy (Mark Blum) beloved peacemaker and Greek philosopher, rounds out the family.

While still in the throws of awkward family reunion and meeting the fiance, young Dinah’s older boyfriend Daniel (Oscar Isaac) arrives.  He is not exactly every parent’s ideal.  Daniel is faculty at Julliard, where Dinah studies piano.  He is also the ex-boyfriend of Ali’s deceased twin sister.  Small town, that New York City, eh?  This stretch of realism in the plot is barely noticeable however.  There are much more gaping distractions on hand.

The first act is definitely the stronger of the two, but the script could use (more?) time in workshop.  While there are exquisitely crafted moments (due in large part to the brilliance of Mr. Gold) and very believable dynamics, there are equal amounts of misses.  There are very lofty writing aspirations at play (pun intended.)  Bobbing and weaving around the mythology of Adromeda, is not interesting.  It should either of been fleshed out or dropped as a theme.  (My vote is for “dropped” as it’s an odd device in a play about identical twins.) The backdrop of the wedding, while utilitarian, is flawed in its execution.  This is a family of New England intellectuals preparing for a small wedding.  They would not be engaged in (last minute) handwritten, place cards, (last minute) dress fittings, (last minute) slide shows.  Slide shows?  The fiance is a Guggenheim winning portrait artist.  Slide shows also don’t particularly jive with the mother (last minute) selecting which flowers (from their own garden) they will use for the wedding.  All of these silly incongruities would not be so distracting if it weren’t for the fact that they are a warning.  The number one rule for any writer (particularly one in their 20s) is “go with what you know.”  Throughout the play, we have the distinct feeling that the playwright is only in passing acquaintance with her characters.

Dinah’s anorexia is considered “cured” yet, her bridesmaid dress (purchased very recently) no longer fits.  She also does not eat.  Yet, she talks about her “recovery” in a very (unintentionally) fictionalized manner.  It’s very hard to believe much about her, when her most defining characteristic is unconvincing.  Is she or isn’t she?  It’s not that she doesn’t know, it’s that the playwright never decided.  We believe she would want to be invisible and therefore develop anorexia, but the psychosocial accuracy is missing.

We discover that Althea’s twin sister Adromeda killed herself (it was implied earlier) after Ali slept with Daniel (back in high school.)  The means not entirely justifying the ends for you?  Well, it seems that Andromeda had stopped taking her Lithium and had been locked in the piano room for days, and her parents chose this exact time to leave all the girls alone for the weekend.  Still not convinced?  Well, it seems the family KNEW she had stopped taking her Lithium, but were pleased she was writing music again, particularly in time for the college application process.  Okay, maybe they are crazy enough to have a slide show at a small family wedding.

To think that I had thought it irresponsible to send a daughter off to Julliard in the throws of an eating disorder.

A flashback is used to tell us Daniel and Ali slept together.  It wasn’t needed, but it did add a wonderful haunting element; having the relentless piano playing of Andi (behind closed doors.)  The flashback device is used as the transition for a tipsy Ali and Daniel getting on his motorcycle together.  The inevitable accident occurs.  Ali is only banged up, but (very briefly) noted is that the cellist Daniel, has seriously damaged his hand.  The moments after Ali is brought home from the hospital are almost unbearably sad.  The writing and acting of the parents is simply excruciating.  My heart just broke for them and their pain.  Sobbing and sniffling, I thought “yes!, go with what you know!”  Clearly Ms. Kazan, has a true gift, demonstrated by those real, raw moments on the stage.  What she and the play need(ed) was some serious work-shopping, and a merciless editor.  Why does the fiance travel (on the eve of his wedding!) with his easel and paints?  Why are gifts being sent to the parents when the couple already lives together?

The ending to this play with real potential, was very disappointing.  Sandy leaves Ali.  Maybe.  Why?  Because she slept with her sister’s boyfriend in high school?  Because she rode on a motorcycle with him?  It’s not clear.  Why is the last scene, the sisters snuggling together promising to be there for each other forever?  We never find out why they had such a distant relationship.  We never find out why the family treats Dinah’s musical gifts (Julliard!) as a whim.  As we wait on the edge of our seats for these illuminations, the play actually ends with the line; “Look the sun is rising.”  Sigh.

 
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Posted by on September 26, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Romeo and Juliet – Review

25 Aug

I just love a theatre festival, a wonderful alchemy of “theatre” and of “festival.”  The most fabulous of these happenings occur somewhere that is lovely all on its own (ex.: Niagra on the Lake, the Berkshires, etc.)  Add to this an actual company of creative artists and a laid back simulated outdoor performance (note: I do not enjoy theatre in the actual outdoors as I find it inconducive to subtlety) and you have the making of a very special experience.  I have seen wonderful new works premiered at festivals as well as unique interpretations of traditional works.  Directors have more artistic leeway off of the great white way, and the audience is often the beneficiary of this freedom of expression.

Last night I was mesmerized by Daniela Varon’s (dir.) interpretation of Rome and Juliet at Shakespeare & Co. (Lenox, MA.)  I don’t know if I’ve every seen a fully staged professional live production of this work.  This would explain why, for the first 30 minutes or so, I kept thinking; “This Shakespeare fellow does a wonderful interpretation of West Side Story.”

A thrust stage and a balcony (not for what you would think) were used within an inch of their life.  Many of the younger characters wove in and around the audience at times.  This device was used lightly and brilliantly and never felt contrived or desperate (in that “stand-up comic using the audience for material way.”)  Set in a non-specific time, with no video, and very minimal audio, the audience was free to project their own framework onto the story.  The costumes aided in that they were predominately all white.  The white cotton costuming provided a perfect canvas for all of the bleeding as well.  There was a colossal burst of color and extraordinary costuming for the dance at the gym masquerade ball scene.

I am hesitant to single out any of the performances as there were so many riveting and enjoyable actors.  I do feel compelled to mention that I simply could not take my eyes off of Riff Mercutio.  He was very funny and physical and flat out magnetic.  Ms. Varon directed this R&J in such a fresh and exciting manner.  I had no idea this play could be so funny.  Yes, of course it’s tragic, but some of the dialogue is extremely amusing.  I particularly enjoyed directing Juliet (Susanna Millonzi) to periodically act just like a 14 year old!

Now dear reader, if you will permit me to get meta for a moment.  I have always been schooled to understand R&J as a tale of the ultimate tragedy of warring families.  Minimally, the play is a cautionary tale of why we should not try to keep our teenagers from dating those we find undesirable.  Well call me practical penguin, but I’m now thinking it is a cautionary tale about mis-communication.  Those kids didn’t die because their families didn’t get along.  They died because Doc the friar did not get the message to Romeo in time.

Oh, and in Romeo and Juliet?  Chino dies.

Note: I found it telling that there were at least a dozen children in the audience, some barely at the multiplication table age, who sat silent and spellbound throughout the three hours.

 
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Posted by on August 25, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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