A Chorus Line (Tuesday, 12.26.06, 8:00 p.m.)
Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre (Broadway)
Starring: Charlotte D’Amboise (Cassie), Michael Barresse (Zach), Ken Alan (Bobby), Brad Anderson (Don), Michelle Aravena (Tricia), David Baum (Roy), Mike Cannon (Tom), E. Clayton Cornelious (Butch), Natalie Cortez (Diana), Mara Davi (Maggie), Jessica Lee Goldyn (Val), Deidre Goodwin (Sheila), Tyler Hanes (Larry), Nadine Isenegger (Lois), James T. Lane (Richie), Pamela Farello (Vicki), Paul McGill (Mark), Heather Parcells (Judy), Michael Paternostro (Greg), Alisan Porter (Bebe), Jeffrey Schecter (Mike), Lisa Ho (Connie), Jason Tam (Paul), Grant Turner (Frank), Chryssie Whitehead (Kristine), Tony Yazbeck (Al)
In the opening number of A Chorus Line, the would-be choristers dance, learning the steps as part of the audition process. There is electricity in the air. The music pumps and sounds fresh and new, the remarkable dancers strut their stuff. One senses something magical is about to happen. I must confess that I was too young to actually see the original cast in the original production, and while I am familiar with the original cast recording, I can’t really compare the revival to the very original. (Though I did finally see the original run in 1987, about 12 years into its original run.) The opening moments lend a sense that the evening is going to bring an emotional high -- the kind that led the original production to become the huge success that it was.
This spanking new Chorus Line, though, never quite achieves that lift and never reaches the emotional heights that one anticipates in those opening moments of the show. To be sure, most of the important elements seem to be there -- excellent dancing, competent singing, and even a few fine moment of drama here and there. But by the end of the evening, there’s clearly something missing. Even as the dancers in this Chorus Line strut their stuff, they seem to be taking all the right steps without actually feeling the emotional pulse of the show.
It’s hard to say whether this is simply a let down from anticipation, or whether there is in fact something missing from this production. I suspect part of the problem is that this Chorus Line attempts to stay too close and too true to the original production. Rather than trying to bring something new and original, the producers seemed more concerned with recreating as much of the original production as possible. Perhaps a fresh take on things would have brought that fresh emotion to make the piece soar.
The producers did at least try to assemble the most able cast possible. The cast certainly looks good, and they dance with tremendous agility. That says, they never seem able to achieve any emotional lift. In the central role of Cassie is Charlotte D’Amboise. D’Amboise is a very likeable, hard-working theatre veteran. She is a consummate and competent performer who seems constantly to be employed, having taken over lead roles in show like Chicago and Sweet Charity, to name a few. She would seem perfect for the role. In fact, she is a better actor than most of the others on stage. She has some nice moments in her exchanges with Zach, and does well in the chorus dance numbers. But for some reason she falls a little flat in her big number -- the Music and the Mirror, with her voice faltering at times and even her dancing feeling a little hesitant. The number is a built-in emotional crescendo, but for some reason D’Amboise is never quite able to make the most of her moment.
Michael Barresse is rather unmemorable as Zach. He comes across as somewhat wooden, though truth be told the character as written spends most of his time off stage and doesn't get much of a chance to really interact with the other characters. The rest of the cast consists of excellent dancers, and where they excel most is in the chorus numbers. But as individual actors portraying individual characters, nobody really registers. Several of the actors struggle a bit vocally, which does not help, and so Hamlisch’s score at times just doesn’t sing the way it is supposed to. Even when they the actors manage to sing acceptably, they often don’t seem to capture the emotional core of the songs. A good example of this is Natalie Cortez’s rendition of “What I Did For Love?”, which, while sweet, never strikes any hits home. Deidre Goodwin is another example of a performer who has tremendous presence, but whose singing of “At the Ballet” does little to enhance her character.
Of the ensemble, Jason Tam, as Paul, comes the closest to achieving his character’s promise, delivering a beautiful monologue which provides the singular most genuine moment of drama in the course of the evening. (I've seen a number of reviews criticizing him, but I found no obvious fault with his performance.) He is the only one (other than Cassie) who truly gets a chance to reveal himself in any meaningful way, and it is probably the emotional highlight of the evening. Also fully successful in inhabiting her character is Jessica Lee Goldyn, who as Val gives a delicious performance of "Dance 10, Looks 3."
As for the show as a whole, it is all competently told, but in the end, this Chorus Line just doesn’t move us the way you would expect. The dancers form the chorus well, but the spotlights on the individual characters seem just a little dim. There are occasional glimpses of something special, but this Chorus Line ends out just being another show with a couple of good ensemble numbers.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
The Apple Tree (12.20.06)
The Apple Tree (Wednesday, 12.20.06, 8:00 p.m.)
Studio 54, New York, NY
By: Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick (book, music, lyrics)
Starring: Kristin Chenoweth (Eve, Princess Barbara, Passionella), Brian d’Arcy James (Adam, Sanjar, Flip, The Prince, Charming), Marc Kudisch (The Snake, Balladeer, Narrator), Walter Charles (King Arik, Mr. Fallible, Producer)
Is there a bigger talent that Kristin Chenoweth? Witness her on stage in the Roundabout’s new production of “The Apple Tree,” and it will be difficult to argue that there is. Chenoweth, who plays the lead roles in the three vignettes that form this musical, is at her absolute comic best. She is blithe and joyous as Eve, mischievous as Barbara, and touching as Passionella. She even convinces us that she can’t sing when the part calls for it. She is wonderful.
Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for The Apple Tree which, while a nice vehicle for Ms. Chenoweth, is otherwise rather dull and uninteresting. Sure, Bock and Harnick’s songs sound pretty and have a snap to them, but by and large the piece, which attempts to tell the story of the relationship between men and women starting with Eden, is lacking is any momentum or in anything interesting to say. One or two common “jokes” threaded throughout the show notwithstanding, there is little connection among the show’s three parts.
The first part -- a retelling of the story of Adam and Eve -- is also probably the show’s best. Largely performed on a bar stage using minimal props and some ladders, the piece -- which is the show’s first act -- is both humorous and touching. d’Arcy James and Chenoweth play Adam and Eve, respectively, and are both charming and humorous. Although much of the dialogue and interaction borders on cliché, it is nevertheless accessible and humorous, and not all that intellectually challenging. Marc Kudisch has some nice moments as The Snake. If there were ever an actor right for such a cartoonish character as this, it is Kudisch. It’s a delicious featured performance.
The show, unfortunately, goes downhill from there. The retelling of the Lady or the Tiger falls relatively flat. Quite frankly, we don’t really care whether Sanjar gets the Lady or the Tiger at all. Things get even worse when we get to Passionella. Although Chenoweth is arguably at her most adorable here (and although there is a sweet, happy ending), but of the 60s Passionella feel comes across as garish and even tacky.The Apple Tree is a highly flawed show, and it really must be viewed solely as a comic vehicle for Chenoweth. Viewed as such, it is a resounding success. Viewed otherwise, it falls far short of the mark either for classic musicals or the Roundabout Theatre.
Studio 54, New York, NY
By: Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick (book, music, lyrics)
Starring: Kristin Chenoweth (Eve, Princess Barbara, Passionella), Brian d’Arcy James (Adam, Sanjar, Flip, The Prince, Charming), Marc Kudisch (The Snake, Balladeer, Narrator), Walter Charles (King Arik, Mr. Fallible, Producer)
Is there a bigger talent that Kristin Chenoweth? Witness her on stage in the Roundabout’s new production of “The Apple Tree,” and it will be difficult to argue that there is. Chenoweth, who plays the lead roles in the three vignettes that form this musical, is at her absolute comic best. She is blithe and joyous as Eve, mischievous as Barbara, and touching as Passionella. She even convinces us that she can’t sing when the part calls for it. She is wonderful.
Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for The Apple Tree which, while a nice vehicle for Ms. Chenoweth, is otherwise rather dull and uninteresting. Sure, Bock and Harnick’s songs sound pretty and have a snap to them, but by and large the piece, which attempts to tell the story of the relationship between men and women starting with Eden, is lacking is any momentum or in anything interesting to say. One or two common “jokes” threaded throughout the show notwithstanding, there is little connection among the show’s three parts.
The first part -- a retelling of the story of Adam and Eve -- is also probably the show’s best. Largely performed on a bar stage using minimal props and some ladders, the piece -- which is the show’s first act -- is both humorous and touching. d’Arcy James and Chenoweth play Adam and Eve, respectively, and are both charming and humorous. Although much of the dialogue and interaction borders on cliché, it is nevertheless accessible and humorous, and not all that intellectually challenging. Marc Kudisch has some nice moments as The Snake. If there were ever an actor right for such a cartoonish character as this, it is Kudisch. It’s a delicious featured performance.
The show, unfortunately, goes downhill from there. The retelling of the Lady or the Tiger falls relatively flat. Quite frankly, we don’t really care whether Sanjar gets the Lady or the Tiger at all. Things get even worse when we get to Passionella. Although Chenoweth is arguably at her most adorable here (and although there is a sweet, happy ending), but of the 60s Passionella feel comes across as garish and even tacky.The Apple Tree is a highly flawed show, and it really must be viewed solely as a comic vehicle for Chenoweth. Viewed as such, it is a resounding success. Viewed otherwise, it falls far short of the mark either for classic musicals or the Roundabout Theatre.
Review-Spring Awakening (12.19.06)
Spring Awakening (Monday, 12.19.06, 8:00 p.m.)
Eugene O'Neill Theatre
Starring: Starring: Jonathan Groff (Melchior), Lea Michele (Wendla), John Gallagher, Jr. (Moritz), Lauren Pritchard (Ilse), Lilli Cooper (Martha), Phoebe Strole (Anna), Remy Zaken (Thea), Brian Charles Johnson (Otto), Jonathan B. Wright (Hanschen), Skylar Astin (Georg), Robert Hager (understudy, Ernst), Stephen Spinella (adult men), Christine Estabrook (adult women)
When Spring Awakening opened on Broadway, the reviewers could not have raved more. “A Miracle,” “the best new musical in a generation” – the accolades kept coming. Could it be that the reviewers were a bit overzealous in their praise? Could the show be that good?
It just may be.
When I saw the off-Broadway incarnation of this show this past summer, I saw a production that was energetic, young, rough, raw, perhaps even a little unfinished. I enjoyed it, and admired the freshness that the show had. I also thought that with a little work, it could be refined further. But I never really considered it an ideal candidate for Broadway transfer. Yet somewhere between 20th and 49th Streets, the creative team worked its magic and, miraculously turned this rough raw bundle of energy into a true gem. This Spring Awakening is nothing short of exquisite, a gorgeous and moving piece of theatre that is truly transfixing, especially in the blissful second act.
At the center of this diamond are Melchior (Groff) and Wendla (Michele), the two young lovers who could not be more different in tone, but who both have spirits yearning to break free. Young Melchior is handsome and charismatic, a confident leader willing to rebel. Wendla is a fragile child, a delicate free-thinker yearning to be a woman, but lacking the role model to do so and trapped by her own naivete. Groff and Michele are fantastic in their respective roles. Groff is powerful and captivating, a magnetic presence with a crystal-clear tenor capable of matching the rock beats of “All That’s Known” and “Totally Fucked” with precision and clarity, but also equally at ease delivering a delicate tribute to his friend in the gorgeous and moving “Left Behind.” Michele, meanwhile, is delicate and fragile and beautiful, yet with an edgy streak that only occasionally surfaces. Her singing is absolutely captivating, enhanced by her willingness to use softer tones rather than constantly belt. Together, the two characters come across very differently, but they are a terrific pair.
Completing the threesome is John Gallagher, Jr., who is terrific as Moritz. He is alternately sad and jubilant, but always intense. Gallagher sings the rock score well, but it is his awkward presence that lends itself so well to the role. In the show’s penultimate number, Gallagher’s appearance through the mist is breathtaking, his clear but slightly edgy voice piercing through. It is a terrific moment.
The remainder of the ensemble is terrific, singing well and making the most of more limited material. Lauren Pritchard is especially memorable, delivering soulful renditions of two key Act II songs. Filling the various adult roles are Christine Estabrook and Stephen Spinella, both giving terrific performances in a variety of different roles. Estabrook does some fine comic work, while Spinella creates one of the great moments as Moritz’s father late in the second act. The two do a surprisingly good job at capturing the essence of the various roles.
Duncan Shiek’s brilliant score sounds terrific, with some absolutely gorgeous moments particularly in the second act. Although I still find that two or three of the numbers in the first act have an unfinished quality (they almost seem “cut off” before the musical motif has finished), the second act is seamless. The singing is uniformly excellent, appropriate to the moments they intend to create. The on-stage orchestra, including the piano accompaniment by one of the actors, is uniformly excellent.
The more expansive stage has been decorated to mirror the original Atlantic Theatre’s church-setting, but the wider stage gives the actors a little more breathing room. There is some excellent lighting design that complements the period appropriate set. If there is a weakness, it is the choreography, which consists of much stomping and jumping. That said, it is rare that the body movements are not appropriate to the moment or to the piece.
Wedikind’s original play, written more than 100 years ago, is no longer groundbreaking in this day and age, and I heard at least a few comment during intermission that they felt they had seen the story before. That said, Shiek and Sater’s retelling of this tale is very fresh and emotionally raw, and yet they have captured an elegance and exquisiteness in the story’s telling that was lacking downtown. This Spring Awakening is, indeed, an awakening, and one not to be missed.
Eugene O'Neill Theatre
Starring: Starring: Jonathan Groff (Melchior), Lea Michele (Wendla), John Gallagher, Jr. (Moritz), Lauren Pritchard (Ilse), Lilli Cooper (Martha), Phoebe Strole (Anna), Remy Zaken (Thea), Brian Charles Johnson (Otto), Jonathan B. Wright (Hanschen), Skylar Astin (Georg), Robert Hager (understudy, Ernst), Stephen Spinella (adult men), Christine Estabrook (adult women)
When Spring Awakening opened on Broadway, the reviewers could not have raved more. “A Miracle,” “the best new musical in a generation” – the accolades kept coming. Could it be that the reviewers were a bit overzealous in their praise? Could the show be that good?
It just may be.
When I saw the off-Broadway incarnation of this show this past summer, I saw a production that was energetic, young, rough, raw, perhaps even a little unfinished. I enjoyed it, and admired the freshness that the show had. I also thought that with a little work, it could be refined further. But I never really considered it an ideal candidate for Broadway transfer. Yet somewhere between 20th and 49th Streets, the creative team worked its magic and, miraculously turned this rough raw bundle of energy into a true gem. This Spring Awakening is nothing short of exquisite, a gorgeous and moving piece of theatre that is truly transfixing, especially in the blissful second act.
At the center of this diamond are Melchior (Groff) and Wendla (Michele), the two young lovers who could not be more different in tone, but who both have spirits yearning to break free. Young Melchior is handsome and charismatic, a confident leader willing to rebel. Wendla is a fragile child, a delicate free-thinker yearning to be a woman, but lacking the role model to do so and trapped by her own naivete. Groff and Michele are fantastic in their respective roles. Groff is powerful and captivating, a magnetic presence with a crystal-clear tenor capable of matching the rock beats of “All That’s Known” and “Totally Fucked” with precision and clarity, but also equally at ease delivering a delicate tribute to his friend in the gorgeous and moving “Left Behind.” Michele, meanwhile, is delicate and fragile and beautiful, yet with an edgy streak that only occasionally surfaces. Her singing is absolutely captivating, enhanced by her willingness to use softer tones rather than constantly belt. Together, the two characters come across very differently, but they are a terrific pair.
Completing the threesome is John Gallagher, Jr., who is terrific as Moritz. He is alternately sad and jubilant, but always intense. Gallagher sings the rock score well, but it is his awkward presence that lends itself so well to the role. In the show’s penultimate number, Gallagher’s appearance through the mist is breathtaking, his clear but slightly edgy voice piercing through. It is a terrific moment.
The remainder of the ensemble is terrific, singing well and making the most of more limited material. Lauren Pritchard is especially memorable, delivering soulful renditions of two key Act II songs. Filling the various adult roles are Christine Estabrook and Stephen Spinella, both giving terrific performances in a variety of different roles. Estabrook does some fine comic work, while Spinella creates one of the great moments as Moritz’s father late in the second act. The two do a surprisingly good job at capturing the essence of the various roles.
Duncan Shiek’s brilliant score sounds terrific, with some absolutely gorgeous moments particularly in the second act. Although I still find that two or three of the numbers in the first act have an unfinished quality (they almost seem “cut off” before the musical motif has finished), the second act is seamless. The singing is uniformly excellent, appropriate to the moments they intend to create. The on-stage orchestra, including the piano accompaniment by one of the actors, is uniformly excellent.
The more expansive stage has been decorated to mirror the original Atlantic Theatre’s church-setting, but the wider stage gives the actors a little more breathing room. There is some excellent lighting design that complements the period appropriate set. If there is a weakness, it is the choreography, which consists of much stomping and jumping. That said, it is rare that the body movements are not appropriate to the moment or to the piece.
Wedikind’s original play, written more than 100 years ago, is no longer groundbreaking in this day and age, and I heard at least a few comment during intermission that they felt they had seen the story before. That said, Shiek and Sater’s retelling of this tale is very fresh and emotionally raw, and yet they have captured an elegance and exquisiteness in the story’s telling that was lacking downtown. This Spring Awakening is, indeed, an awakening, and one not to be missed.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Review-Company (11.22.06)
Company (Wednesday, 11.22.06, 8:00 p.m.)
Ethel Barrymore Theatre (Broadway)
By: Stephen Sondheim (music, lyrics), George Furth (book), John Doyle (direction)
Starring: Raul Esparza (Robert), Barbara Walsh (Joanne), Keith Buterbaugh (Harry), Matt Castle (Peter), Robert Cunningham (Paul), Angel Desai (Marta), Kelly Jeanne Grant (Kathy), Kristin Huffman (Sarah), Amy Justman (Susan), Heather Laws (Amy), Leenya Rideout (Jenny), Fred Rose (David), Bruce Sabath (Larry), Elizabeth Stanley (April)
Single, 35-year-old Bobby is the center of attention. He’s the only single guy amongst a group of otherwise married friends. Everyone is obsessed with Bobby. They hang out with him, they laugh with him, they live vicariously through him. On some level, they desperately want him to join them in marital bliss; yet at the same time they seem envious of his freedom and lack of commitment.
Although Bobby is the center of attention, he is also an observer, at least with respect to the institution of marriage. Here is where Raul Esparza is so successful in the role. Esparza is at once the center of attention -- he is charismatic, handsome, likeable -- and yet at the same time he is an observer. In scene after scene, while the attention is ostensibly on him, it really is on the situation between whichever married couple happens to be entertaining him. Esparza straddles this fine line between center and observer with ease.
But when he needs to take the reigns and assert himself as the true center of attention, Esparza steps up and does so brilliantly. His Act I-ending number -- Marry Me a Little, and his triumphant and moving final number -- Being Alive -- are marvelous theatrical moments. Esparza brilliantly captures the essence of the Bobby, and in doing so provides a blissful heart to the show.
Esparza aside, this Company is brilliant all around. John Doyle, who rode a wave of success last season with his ground-breaking version of “Sweeney Todd” here employs the same gimmick -- not just putting the orchestra on stage, but actually usurping it with a cast of impossibly talented orchestral actors. To be sure, the effect could not be more different. Whereas in Sweeney Todd the use of the orchestra-actors created an eerie, seamless chamber piece quality, here it creates a slick and cool urban setting. After the first number, one barely notices the instruments, except when Doyle dabbles in musical amusement -- such as the clever saxophone trio of “You Could Drive A Person Crazy” or the triangle-teasing by Joanne in “Side By Side.”
The score this time around is more successfully orchestrated than that was the case with Sweeney. Though Sweeney had a lovely haunting quality about it, the full sound of the orchestra was, at times, missed. Here, the orchestrations glisten. They are sharp and full, and aside from the occasional overbalancing by the trumpets, extremely skillfully played.
The acting and singing, too, is quite universally brilliant. Barbara Walsh gives a particularly stirring performance as Joanne, acting and singing the hell out of her big number, “The Ladies Who Lunch,” and promising to put her own stamp on the role made so famous by Elaine Stritch. Angel Desai also gives a lovely rendition of “Another Hundred People,” while Heather Laws gives a deliciously entertaining turn in “Not Getting Married Today.” The women in the cast generally fare better than the men (who are generally less memorable), though truly there are noticeably weak links in the cast.
The stylish and cool set perfectly complements the piece, the timing of which is unspecified but presumed to be present-day. The glass cubes and elegant grand piano sufficiently set the scene for the entire show -- one really doesn’t miss more traditional set pieces at all. Though some have commented that Bobby's act two scene with April (normally on a bed) is awkward, I did not find it to be so.
This Company is a resounding success. While it might not be thought of as quite as groundbreaking as last season’s Sweeney, this should really only be because Company is itself somewhat more abstract to begin with. To my mind, this production is as groundbreaking as was Sweeney, and perhaps in some ways superior. This remarkable production achieves the perfect synergy of reinvention, design, music, concept, acting, and singing, all the while celebrating the original work. What more could a body ask for?
Review-The Coast of Utopia - The Voyage (11.26.06)
The Coast of Utopia - The Voyage (Sunday, 11.26.06, 3 p.m.)
Vivian Beaumont Theatre (Lincoln Center, New York)
Starring: Richard Easton (Alexander Bakunin), Amy Irving (Varvara), Jennifer Ehle (Liubov), Martha Plimpton (Varenka), Kellie Overbey (Tatiana), Annie Purcell (Alexandra), Ethan Hawke (Michael Bakunin), David Harbour (Nicholas Stankevich), Billy Crudup (Vissarion Belinsky), Jason Butler Harner (Ivan Turgenev), Brian F. O’Byrne (Alexander Herzen), Josh Hamilton (Nicholas Ogarev), Aaron Krohn (Nicholas Sazonov), Baylen Thomas (Nicholas Ketscher), David Pittu (Nicholas Polevoy), Adam Dannheisser (Pushkin)
The Coast of Utopia trilogy promises to be a sprawling adventure -- literally decades out of a crucial period in the intellectual life of Russia. Daunting in scale and subject, one almost suspected you would need to attend class before evening thinking of stepping into the theatre.
How wrong that would be.
This Coast of Utopia is grand from its opening moments. The opening scene is marked by a dramatic swell of music, the simulation of stormy waves, and an image of the multitudes, living in destitution and poverty, freezing and barely eking out an existence. They are constantly in the background. Meanwhile, we enter the home of a middle-class family -- in the business of agriculture (what else). They are well educated and touched by the outside world -- they speak many languages and are influenced by the goings on in France, Germany, England. They talk as if they have grand ideas about life, what should be aspired to, and what would be the ideal to come.
The central protagonist in The Voyage is Michael Bakunin, played with great temper and agility by Ethan Hawke. Bakunin is an idea man, one moment wrapped up in the philosophy of one thinker; the next moment enthralled by the ideas of a different one. Bakunin is all about action; he may seem to spew forth many ideas, but in the end the ideas lack coherence. He talks a good talk, but in the end it seems like he will never contribute anything. He dupes his friends into funding his largesse, and never really seems to give anything back. Is he the intelligentsia that will shape the new Russia?
One hopes the answer is no. And yet one is frustrated not only that he is the center of attention, but that his friends and his family let him get away with it and admire him for being what he is (except his father, of course, who sees through him, but voices disapproval for different reasons).
The Voyage, then, is less about the actual ideas that form the new Russian thinking than it is about the people who think they have such ideas. I understand that Stoppard trimmed his script somewhat to streamline it and give it a greater sense of urgency. I suppose the urgency is there, but the result of the cuts (or so I would imagine) is to “dumb down” the exchanges. I have not read the original version of the play, so I cannot attest to what was trimmed, but The Voyage seems surprisingly devoid of the kind of truly witty and engaging exchanges that one comes to anticipate from Stoppard. The situations are there, and the language is floral, but where is the true exchange of ideas?
That said, The Voyage glides along relatively seamlessly, and the nearly three-hour running time passes by rather quickly. Things especially pick up when Billy Crudup’s brilliant turn as Belinsky begins. Crudup is the king of self-conscious portrayal. One almost doesn’t recognize him at first; his matinee idol good looks disguised in frumpiness, long hair, and a padded suit. But he is marvelous. Lacking the intellectual training of his comrades (he, after all, only speaks Russian), he is nevertheless more genuine in his embrace of new intellectual ideas than his more moneyed friends. Crudup’s sense of urgency is different -- it is not about himself, it is about the ideas. Whereas Bakunin’s cause celebre is about aggrandizing himself, Crudup’s aim is at the philosophers. The contrast is striking.
Also excellent is Brian F. O’Byrne, whose brief appearance as Herzen is nonetheless brilliant and makes you yearn for more. When his character steps to the fore in Part II, it promises to be special. O’Byrne knows how to captivate the audience; his grasp of character and language are miraculous.
At the end of the day, this is a glorious production of a good -- though not great -- play. What it does well is to set the mood for the remainder of the trilogy. The Voyage feels not so much like a complete play as the beginning of a journey. One only hopes that as that journey continues, it grows richer than was this first part.
Vivian Beaumont Theatre (Lincoln Center, New York)
Starring: Richard Easton (Alexander Bakunin), Amy Irving (Varvara), Jennifer Ehle (Liubov), Martha Plimpton (Varenka), Kellie Overbey (Tatiana), Annie Purcell (Alexandra), Ethan Hawke (Michael Bakunin), David Harbour (Nicholas Stankevich), Billy Crudup (Vissarion Belinsky), Jason Butler Harner (Ivan Turgenev), Brian F. O’Byrne (Alexander Herzen), Josh Hamilton (Nicholas Ogarev), Aaron Krohn (Nicholas Sazonov), Baylen Thomas (Nicholas Ketscher), David Pittu (Nicholas Polevoy), Adam Dannheisser (Pushkin)
The Coast of Utopia trilogy promises to be a sprawling adventure -- literally decades out of a crucial period in the intellectual life of Russia. Daunting in scale and subject, one almost suspected you would need to attend class before evening thinking of stepping into the theatre.
How wrong that would be.
This Coast of Utopia is grand from its opening moments. The opening scene is marked by a dramatic swell of music, the simulation of stormy waves, and an image of the multitudes, living in destitution and poverty, freezing and barely eking out an existence. They are constantly in the background. Meanwhile, we enter the home of a middle-class family -- in the business of agriculture (what else). They are well educated and touched by the outside world -- they speak many languages and are influenced by the goings on in France, Germany, England. They talk as if they have grand ideas about life, what should be aspired to, and what would be the ideal to come.
The central protagonist in The Voyage is Michael Bakunin, played with great temper and agility by Ethan Hawke. Bakunin is an idea man, one moment wrapped up in the philosophy of one thinker; the next moment enthralled by the ideas of a different one. Bakunin is all about action; he may seem to spew forth many ideas, but in the end the ideas lack coherence. He talks a good talk, but in the end it seems like he will never contribute anything. He dupes his friends into funding his largesse, and never really seems to give anything back. Is he the intelligentsia that will shape the new Russia?
One hopes the answer is no. And yet one is frustrated not only that he is the center of attention, but that his friends and his family let him get away with it and admire him for being what he is (except his father, of course, who sees through him, but voices disapproval for different reasons).
The Voyage, then, is less about the actual ideas that form the new Russian thinking than it is about the people who think they have such ideas. I understand that Stoppard trimmed his script somewhat to streamline it and give it a greater sense of urgency. I suppose the urgency is there, but the result of the cuts (or so I would imagine) is to “dumb down” the exchanges. I have not read the original version of the play, so I cannot attest to what was trimmed, but The Voyage seems surprisingly devoid of the kind of truly witty and engaging exchanges that one comes to anticipate from Stoppard. The situations are there, and the language is floral, but where is the true exchange of ideas?
That said, The Voyage glides along relatively seamlessly, and the nearly three-hour running time passes by rather quickly. Things especially pick up when Billy Crudup’s brilliant turn as Belinsky begins. Crudup is the king of self-conscious portrayal. One almost doesn’t recognize him at first; his matinee idol good looks disguised in frumpiness, long hair, and a padded suit. But he is marvelous. Lacking the intellectual training of his comrades (he, after all, only speaks Russian), he is nevertheless more genuine in his embrace of new intellectual ideas than his more moneyed friends. Crudup’s sense of urgency is different -- it is not about himself, it is about the ideas. Whereas Bakunin’s cause celebre is about aggrandizing himself, Crudup’s aim is at the philosophers. The contrast is striking.
Also excellent is Brian F. O’Byrne, whose brief appearance as Herzen is nonetheless brilliant and makes you yearn for more. When his character steps to the fore in Part II, it promises to be special. O’Byrne knows how to captivate the audience; his grasp of character and language are miraculous.
At the end of the day, this is a glorious production of a good -- though not great -- play. What it does well is to set the mood for the remainder of the trilogy. The Voyage feels not so much like a complete play as the beginning of a journey. One only hopes that as that journey continues, it grows richer than was this first part.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Review-The Little Dog Laughed (11.18.06)
The Little Dog Laughed (Saturday, 11.18.06, 8:00 p.m.)
Cort Theatre (Broadway)
Starring: Julie White (Diane), Johnny Galecki (Alex), Tom Everett Scott (Mitchell), Ari Graynor (Ellen)
The Little Dog is not so little any more. After a successful off-Broadway run, Douglas Carter Beane’s glossy play makes the transfer to Broadway. And what a big splash it makes.
The creators and producers have wisely retooled the play to give a it more of a Broadway feel. Beane has streamlined several of the exchanges. Although the set looks much like it did off Broadway, certain elements have been upgraded, or at least so it seems.
And the performances, too, are grander. Julie White doesn’t replicate her tremendous off-Broadway performance; she too adjusts it for the larger venue. And she is still magnificent. Her gestures are bigger, her voice is bigger, her performance is bigger. It’s just what the play requires, and it grounds the entire proceedings around her just where it should be – 100 feet in the superficial air of Hollywood.
Johnny Galecki is the other hold-over from off-Broadway. Galecki, who delivered a fine performance off-Broadway, is still likeable in the new venue, although in contrast to White’s performance, which has only grown, his performance seems to have shrunken just a little. He’s still terrific, but it’s unclear why he doesn’t have the same impact he had off-Broadway.
Perhaps some of the reason has to do with his new co-star, Tom Everett Scott, who replaces Neal Huff as the soon-to-be A-list movie star Mitchell. Scott, in contrast to Huff, looks much more like a movie star, and in that respect is a better fit for the role. In this respect, Scott is an improvement over Huff. But gone is the chemistry between Mitchell and Alex, or at least it is severely diminished. One always felt that Huff’s Mitchell genuinely fell in love with Alex. Here, Scott’s Mitchell seems to like Alex, but love? Not that far.
If the missing is chemistry at first seems to be problematic, Beane’s take on superficiality helps to alleviate the problem, since at the heart of his play, the message seems to be that the appearance is what really counts. Scott’s relative indifference to Alex by the end of the play is more believable.
Rounding out the cast is Ari Graynor as Ellen, Alex’s girlfriend. Graynor makes the most of what is easily the weakest role in the play. Graynor, who gave a terrific performance in last season’s “Dog Sees God,” is likewise terrific here. She milks her one-liners and more than plays the part when, at the end of the show, she agrees to partake in Mitchell and Diane’s scheme.
In the end, Little Dog Laughed is terrifically entertaining. It is light and superficial, much like the Hollywood it is attempting to satirize, but it never falls into the trap of overstating its message (if it even has one) regarding homosexuality in Hollywood. The producers have wisely upgraded the show in a manner most befitting its Broadway home.
Cort Theatre (Broadway)
Starring: Julie White (Diane), Johnny Galecki (Alex), Tom Everett Scott (Mitchell), Ari Graynor (Ellen)
The Little Dog is not so little any more. After a successful off-Broadway run, Douglas Carter Beane’s glossy play makes the transfer to Broadway. And what a big splash it makes.
The creators and producers have wisely retooled the play to give a it more of a Broadway feel. Beane has streamlined several of the exchanges. Although the set looks much like it did off Broadway, certain elements have been upgraded, or at least so it seems.
And the performances, too, are grander. Julie White doesn’t replicate her tremendous off-Broadway performance; she too adjusts it for the larger venue. And she is still magnificent. Her gestures are bigger, her voice is bigger, her performance is bigger. It’s just what the play requires, and it grounds the entire proceedings around her just where it should be – 100 feet in the superficial air of Hollywood.
Johnny Galecki is the other hold-over from off-Broadway. Galecki, who delivered a fine performance off-Broadway, is still likeable in the new venue, although in contrast to White’s performance, which has only grown, his performance seems to have shrunken just a little. He’s still terrific, but it’s unclear why he doesn’t have the same impact he had off-Broadway.
Perhaps some of the reason has to do with his new co-star, Tom Everett Scott, who replaces Neal Huff as the soon-to-be A-list movie star Mitchell. Scott, in contrast to Huff, looks much more like a movie star, and in that respect is a better fit for the role. In this respect, Scott is an improvement over Huff. But gone is the chemistry between Mitchell and Alex, or at least it is severely diminished. One always felt that Huff’s Mitchell genuinely fell in love with Alex. Here, Scott’s Mitchell seems to like Alex, but love? Not that far.
If the missing is chemistry at first seems to be problematic, Beane’s take on superficiality helps to alleviate the problem, since at the heart of his play, the message seems to be that the appearance is what really counts. Scott’s relative indifference to Alex by the end of the play is more believable.
Rounding out the cast is Ari Graynor as Ellen, Alex’s girlfriend. Graynor makes the most of what is easily the weakest role in the play. Graynor, who gave a terrific performance in last season’s “Dog Sees God,” is likewise terrific here. She milks her one-liners and more than plays the part when, at the end of the show, she agrees to partake in Mitchell and Diane’s scheme.
In the end, Little Dog Laughed is terrifically entertaining. It is light and superficial, much like the Hollywood it is attempting to satirize, but it never falls into the trap of overstating its message (if it even has one) regarding homosexuality in Hollywood. The producers have wisely upgraded the show in a manner most befitting its Broadway home.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Review-My Name is Rachel Corrie (11.12.06)
My Name is Rachel Corrie (Sunday, 11.12.06)
Minetta Lane Theatre, New York, NY
By: Rachel Corrie (edited by Alan Rickman, Katharine Viner), Alan Rickman (direction)
Starring: Bree Elrod (Rachel Corrie, standby)
What gives My Name Is Rachel Corrie its emotional power is also what ultimately limits it as a theatrical piece. Knowing what eventually happens to the reach Rachel Corrie gives her words a sadness and emotional urgency that the words themselves – though often poetic – do not necessarily themselves suggest. By the end of the show, when we learn of her fate through the BBC radio report, we feel as though everything has been leading to it. Although it is the only moment in the show that is not from Rachel’s own writings, it is the necessary culmination of events.
The problems in the script, which are magnified during the first half hour or so, are that they are an amalgamation of fairly short diary entries, and so the script comes across as somewhat fragmented and disjointed. The first part of the show is focused on giving Rachel’s biography – information about her background, her education, her parents, her friends. The dialogue feels stilted and almost stream of consciousness.
Things improve considerably when the action moves to Gaza. The thoughts and scenes are more coherent, perhaps because the diary entries themselves were observations of whole scenes, images and thoughts, rather than snippets from her early life. The dialogue also picks up a deeper, more serious tone. Again, this is not surprising given what the experience must have been like for Rachel.
The deepening in tone also helps deepen the character of Rachel. Absent from the early part of the evening is any sense of what forms the girl’s political consciousness. Faced with the action in Gaza, however, we come to understand this consciousness.
As Rachel, Bree Elrod is plucky and beautiful, an idealist but not so wide-eyed or naive that she does not understand the gravity of the plight of the people she hopes to help. She is particularly good in Gaza, and what makes her most likeable is that she never comes across as proselytizing, even when she is giving her potentially charged political views.
The main problem with Rachel Corrie, and it is unclear whether it is a fault on the part of Elrod or of the editing of the script, it is that we never really understand what motivates Rachel to be the activist that she is. One never gets a sense of how or why, or even makes a connection between the young girl in Washington and the young woman in Gaza. Perhaps it is a difficulty of telling the girl’s story in 90 minutes. Perhaps it is the difficulty of telling a complete story from the diaries of a girl whose story was never completed. Whatever the reasons, My Name Is Rachel Corrie in the end falls a bit short of the emotional and intellectual movement it promises. That says, it still gives power to a young woman’s poetic words, and brings to life the ideals she fought and died for.
Minetta Lane Theatre, New York, NY
By: Rachel Corrie (edited by Alan Rickman, Katharine Viner), Alan Rickman (direction)
Starring: Bree Elrod (Rachel Corrie, standby)
What gives My Name Is Rachel Corrie its emotional power is also what ultimately limits it as a theatrical piece. Knowing what eventually happens to the reach Rachel Corrie gives her words a sadness and emotional urgency that the words themselves – though often poetic – do not necessarily themselves suggest. By the end of the show, when we learn of her fate through the BBC radio report, we feel as though everything has been leading to it. Although it is the only moment in the show that is not from Rachel’s own writings, it is the necessary culmination of events.
The problems in the script, which are magnified during the first half hour or so, are that they are an amalgamation of fairly short diary entries, and so the script comes across as somewhat fragmented and disjointed. The first part of the show is focused on giving Rachel’s biography – information about her background, her education, her parents, her friends. The dialogue feels stilted and almost stream of consciousness.
Things improve considerably when the action moves to Gaza. The thoughts and scenes are more coherent, perhaps because the diary entries themselves were observations of whole scenes, images and thoughts, rather than snippets from her early life. The dialogue also picks up a deeper, more serious tone. Again, this is not surprising given what the experience must have been like for Rachel.
The deepening in tone also helps deepen the character of Rachel. Absent from the early part of the evening is any sense of what forms the girl’s political consciousness. Faced with the action in Gaza, however, we come to understand this consciousness.
As Rachel, Bree Elrod is plucky and beautiful, an idealist but not so wide-eyed or naive that she does not understand the gravity of the plight of the people she hopes to help. She is particularly good in Gaza, and what makes her most likeable is that she never comes across as proselytizing, even when she is giving her potentially charged political views.
The main problem with Rachel Corrie, and it is unclear whether it is a fault on the part of Elrod or of the editing of the script, it is that we never really understand what motivates Rachel to be the activist that she is. One never gets a sense of how or why, or even makes a connection between the young girl in Washington and the young woman in Gaza. Perhaps it is a difficulty of telling the girl’s story in 90 minutes. Perhaps it is the difficulty of telling a complete story from the diaries of a girl whose story was never completed. Whatever the reasons, My Name Is Rachel Corrie in the end falls a bit short of the emotional and intellectual movement it promises. That says, it still gives power to a young woman’s poetic words, and brings to life the ideals she fought and died for.
Monday, October 2, 2006
Review-Rent (10.1.06)
Rent (Sunday, 10.1.06)
Nederlander Theatre, New York, NY
By: Jonathan Larson (book, music lyrics), Michael Greif (direction)
Starring: Tim Howar (Roger), Christopher J. Hanke (Mark), Destan Owens (Tom Collins), D’Monroe (Benjamin Coffin III), Nicole Lewis (Joanne), Justin Johnson (Angel), Jaime Lee Kirchner (Mimi), Haven Burton (Maureen)
After 10 years on Broadway, numerous international productions, and even a Hollywood movie version, Rent remains an endearing story of the triumph of love over all. Although the freshness of the story cannot possibly be the same today as it was 10 years ago, this Rent tries to keep its youth and vigor through its casting. For the most part, it succeeds.
All of the principal actors are quite good, particularly Christopher Hanke as Mark and Tim Howar as Roger. Each of the actors walks that delicate balance between bringing something new and fresh to the role, and maintaining the integrity of the performance as we have seen it over 10 years.
If there is anything lacking in the overall performance, it is the rawness that we saw in the first company. The rawness of emotion, the rawness of the performances. What’s always struck me about Rent is that it is, at its heart, a true theatrical piece. As much as people talked about it as being a rock musical, a creature of off-Broadway, a Bohemian, Alphabet-city piece, in fact at its heart is emulated the great musicals of the past, from West Side Story and Les Miserables to the Sound of Music, just in a different package. So if the rawness of emotion (which I attribute mostly to the untimely death of its creator, Jonathan Larson), is muted here, it doesn’t really matter, because the theatricality is what matters. And theatricality is what this show continues to deliver.
Complementing the excellent performances by Tim Howar and Christopher Hanke are good supporting performances by Destan Owens (who continues to shine in his big number, “I’ll Cover You”), D’Monroe as Benjamin Coffin III, Jaime Lee Kirchner as Mimi, Haven Burton as Maureen, and Nicole Lewis as Joanne. Justin Johnson gets some of the biggest laughs as Angel and generally delivers a good performance, although it is difficult to erase the indelible (and as yet, unmatched) performance of the role’s creator, Jermaine Heredia.
Nederlander Theatre, New York, NY
By: Jonathan Larson (book, music lyrics), Michael Greif (direction)
Starring: Tim Howar (Roger), Christopher J. Hanke (Mark), Destan Owens (Tom Collins), D’Monroe (Benjamin Coffin III), Nicole Lewis (Joanne), Justin Johnson (Angel), Jaime Lee Kirchner (Mimi), Haven Burton (Maureen)
After 10 years on Broadway, numerous international productions, and even a Hollywood movie version, Rent remains an endearing story of the triumph of love over all. Although the freshness of the story cannot possibly be the same today as it was 10 years ago, this Rent tries to keep its youth and vigor through its casting. For the most part, it succeeds.
All of the principal actors are quite good, particularly Christopher Hanke as Mark and Tim Howar as Roger. Each of the actors walks that delicate balance between bringing something new and fresh to the role, and maintaining the integrity of the performance as we have seen it over 10 years.
If there is anything lacking in the overall performance, it is the rawness that we saw in the first company. The rawness of emotion, the rawness of the performances. What’s always struck me about Rent is that it is, at its heart, a true theatrical piece. As much as people talked about it as being a rock musical, a creature of off-Broadway, a Bohemian, Alphabet-city piece, in fact at its heart is emulated the great musicals of the past, from West Side Story and Les Miserables to the Sound of Music, just in a different package. So if the rawness of emotion (which I attribute mostly to the untimely death of its creator, Jonathan Larson), is muted here, it doesn’t really matter, because the theatricality is what matters. And theatricality is what this show continues to deliver.
Complementing the excellent performances by Tim Howar and Christopher Hanke are good supporting performances by Destan Owens (who continues to shine in his big number, “I’ll Cover You”), D’Monroe as Benjamin Coffin III, Jaime Lee Kirchner as Mimi, Haven Burton as Maureen, and Nicole Lewis as Joanne. Justin Johnson gets some of the biggest laughs as Angel and generally delivers a good performance, although it is difficult to erase the indelible (and as yet, unmatched) performance of the role’s creator, Jermaine Heredia.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Review-Spring Awakening (7.20.06)
Spring Awakening (Thursday, 7.20.06)
Atlantic Theatre, New York, NY
By: Duncan Shiek (music), Steven Sater (book, lyrics), Michael Mayer (direction)
Starring: Jonathan Groff (Melchor), Lea Michele (Wendla), John Gallagher, Jr. (Moritz), Mary McCann (adult women), Frank Wood (adult men)
It’s hard to know what to make of Spring Awakening. Wrapped in Duncan Shiek’s pleasant-sounding 90s pop music and telling the story of a controversial 19th century German play, the piece is at once accessible and yet different. One senses it is truly different from the pieces that have preceded it, but it is difficult to identify why.
Certainly, there is nothing groundbreaking today about the show’s story, even if it was controversial more than 100 years ago when it was first written. There is nothing groundbreaking about the music which, while pleasant and hummable, does not differ greatly in form from other music that has been written in the last decade. The story is somewhat fragmented, although its coherence in theme is sufficient to hold it together.
However you characterize Spring Awakening, it does not really matter. What matters is that it is a moving piece, punctuated with both humor and tragedy, and defined by the youth and emotional enthusiasm of its young cast. Each of the young actors seems to want to burst out of their skins. Jonathan Groff embodies this spirit as Melchor. Groff’s Melchor is the handsome charismatic youth, but he is also a volatile bar of dynamite ready to go off at any moment. Matching Groff moment for moment is Lea Michele, whose tragic Wendla is beautiful and fragile.
As for Duncan Shiek’s score, it is generally successful. If there is one fault, it is that several of the numbers feel “unfinished” – this seems in part intentional, and in fact it gives a rawness and roughness to the piece. But it is also extremely frustrating. Songs in a musical have a natural arc, and interfering with this arc is dangerous.The physical production matches the time period well. In the end, this is a very interesting theatrical piece, emotionally rich thanks to the combination of its music-writing and the excellent players performing the pieces. It will be interesting to see how the shows roughness will be dealt with in its transfer to Broadway.
Atlantic Theatre, New York, NY
By: Duncan Shiek (music), Steven Sater (book, lyrics), Michael Mayer (direction)
Starring: Jonathan Groff (Melchor), Lea Michele (Wendla), John Gallagher, Jr. (Moritz), Mary McCann (adult women), Frank Wood (adult men)
It’s hard to know what to make of Spring Awakening. Wrapped in Duncan Shiek’s pleasant-sounding 90s pop music and telling the story of a controversial 19th century German play, the piece is at once accessible and yet different. One senses it is truly different from the pieces that have preceded it, but it is difficult to identify why.
Certainly, there is nothing groundbreaking today about the show’s story, even if it was controversial more than 100 years ago when it was first written. There is nothing groundbreaking about the music which, while pleasant and hummable, does not differ greatly in form from other music that has been written in the last decade. The story is somewhat fragmented, although its coherence in theme is sufficient to hold it together.
However you characterize Spring Awakening, it does not really matter. What matters is that it is a moving piece, punctuated with both humor and tragedy, and defined by the youth and emotional enthusiasm of its young cast. Each of the young actors seems to want to burst out of their skins. Jonathan Groff embodies this spirit as Melchor. Groff’s Melchor is the handsome charismatic youth, but he is also a volatile bar of dynamite ready to go off at any moment. Matching Groff moment for moment is Lea Michele, whose tragic Wendla is beautiful and fragile.
As for Duncan Shiek’s score, it is generally successful. If there is one fault, it is that several of the numbers feel “unfinished” – this seems in part intentional, and in fact it gives a rawness and roughness to the piece. But it is also extremely frustrating. Songs in a musical have a natural arc, and interfering with this arc is dangerous.The physical production matches the time period well. In the end, this is a very interesting theatrical piece, emotionally rich thanks to the combination of its music-writing and the excellent players performing the pieces. It will be interesting to see how the shows roughness will be dealt with in its transfer to Broadway.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Review-The Drowsy Chaperone (5.6.06)
The Drowsy Chaperone (Saturday, 5.6.06, 2 p.m.)
Marquis Theatre (Broadway)
Starring: Bob Martin (Man in Chair), Georgia Engel (Mrs. Tottendale), Edward Hibbert (Underling), Troy Britton Johnson (Robert Martin), Eddie Korbich (George), Lenny Wolfe (Feldzieg), Jennifer Smith (Kitty), Jason Kravits (Gangster #1), Garth Kravits (Gangster #2), Danny Burstein (Aldolpho), Sutton Foster (Janet Van De Graaff), Beth Leavel (The Drowsy Chaperone), Kecia Lewis-Evans (Trix), Joey Sorge (Super)
The Drowsy Chaperone starts with a voice in a darkened theatre. The Man in Chair, which is the only way in which he is known, begins his narration with a humorous monologue on what might go through your head just as the lights dim at the theatre. It’s humorous, it’s fun, and it’s pretty much true.
When the lights finally come up, we are in Man in Chair’s apartment, a humble setting that soon becomes the scene for the remainder of the show. Man in Chair then puts on the record, and sets the scene of “The Drowsy Chaperone,” his favorite musical from 1928; a light, frothy confection which, despite its flaws, has the power to take him away. What follows is a delightful romp; a smartly written show-within-a-show which looks and sounds like the frothy shows of the 1920s, but has enough humor and double entendre to be enjoyed at this day and age. But what really makes it work is the way the show is framed by Man in Chair’s commentary, which not only helps elaborate on the story (and point out the flaws, not that they do not themselves stand out), but which also gives background on the fictitious actors and even, at times, of Man in Chair’s own life.
I'm often not a big fan of shows that are so "self aware" of themselves as shows, but this one is truly delightful, a light confection without a serious note in its entire body. I suspect that a frequent theatre-goer will enjoy it as much as a total theatre novice not accustomed to musical theatre. Man in Chair clearly relishes the show-within-a-show’s ability to transport him away, but he never takes the things that go on in the show itself too seriously.
Of course, what also helps considerably are the tremendous performances given by the amazing core of actors. Led by Sutton Foster’s remarkably versatile comedic turn and Beth Leavel’s absolutely hilarious turn as in the title role, the show-within-a-show is a comedic delight. Rounding out the cast nicely are Troy Britton Johnson’s magnetic Robert Martin and Danny Burstein’s side-splitting Aldolpho.
But anchoring the whole show, of course, is co-writer Bob Martin as Man in Chair. Martin is tremendous – humorous, poignant – a success on many levels. His role is critical to this show’s success, since it is only with the show-within-a-store framework that allows the piece to work. This gem of a show is a surprising delight. It won't change your life or even cause you to think twice, but it's a heck of a good time while you're there watching it.
Marquis Theatre (Broadway)
Starring: Bob Martin (Man in Chair), Georgia Engel (Mrs. Tottendale), Edward Hibbert (Underling), Troy Britton Johnson (Robert Martin), Eddie Korbich (George), Lenny Wolfe (Feldzieg), Jennifer Smith (Kitty), Jason Kravits (Gangster #1), Garth Kravits (Gangster #2), Danny Burstein (Aldolpho), Sutton Foster (Janet Van De Graaff), Beth Leavel (The Drowsy Chaperone), Kecia Lewis-Evans (Trix), Joey Sorge (Super)
The Drowsy Chaperone starts with a voice in a darkened theatre. The Man in Chair, which is the only way in which he is known, begins his narration with a humorous monologue on what might go through your head just as the lights dim at the theatre. It’s humorous, it’s fun, and it’s pretty much true.
When the lights finally come up, we are in Man in Chair’s apartment, a humble setting that soon becomes the scene for the remainder of the show. Man in Chair then puts on the record, and sets the scene of “The Drowsy Chaperone,” his favorite musical from 1928; a light, frothy confection which, despite its flaws, has the power to take him away. What follows is a delightful romp; a smartly written show-within-a-show which looks and sounds like the frothy shows of the 1920s, but has enough humor and double entendre to be enjoyed at this day and age. But what really makes it work is the way the show is framed by Man in Chair’s commentary, which not only helps elaborate on the story (and point out the flaws, not that they do not themselves stand out), but which also gives background on the fictitious actors and even, at times, of Man in Chair’s own life.
I'm often not a big fan of shows that are so "self aware" of themselves as shows, but this one is truly delightful, a light confection without a serious note in its entire body. I suspect that a frequent theatre-goer will enjoy it as much as a total theatre novice not accustomed to musical theatre. Man in Chair clearly relishes the show-within-a-show’s ability to transport him away, but he never takes the things that go on in the show itself too seriously.
Of course, what also helps considerably are the tremendous performances given by the amazing core of actors. Led by Sutton Foster’s remarkably versatile comedic turn and Beth Leavel’s absolutely hilarious turn as in the title role, the show-within-a-show is a comedic delight. Rounding out the cast nicely are Troy Britton Johnson’s magnetic Robert Martin and Danny Burstein’s side-splitting Aldolpho.
But anchoring the whole show, of course, is co-writer Bob Martin as Man in Chair. Martin is tremendous – humorous, poignant – a success on many levels. His role is critical to this show’s success, since it is only with the show-within-a-store framework that allows the piece to work. This gem of a show is a surprising delight. It won't change your life or even cause you to think twice, but it's a heck of a good time while you're there watching it.
Friday, May 5, 2006
Review-Jersey Boys (5.2.06)
Jersey Boys (Tuesday, 5.2.06, 7:00 p.m.)
August Wilson Theatre (Broadway)
Starring: John Lloyd Young (Frankie Valli), Christian Hoff (Tommy DeVito), Daniel Reichard (Bob Gaudio), J. Robert Spencer (Nick Massi)
Season after season, creators have been attempting to craft tributes to various musical performers by creating a Broadway show out of their catalog of songs. For the most part, these efforts have been an abysmal failure. This season has seen no less than three such attempts crash and burn – Lennon, Ring of Fire (Johnny Cash) and Hot Feet (Earth, Wind & Fire), and seasons past have seen many more. Perhaps inspired by the success of Mamma Mia! (which for me has remained the only satisfying jukebox venture), these would-be creators persist, searching for that right combination of story and song.
Perhaps we should tip our hats, then, to all of these failed efforts, as it appears they have finally culminated in a truly enriched, theatrical piece which succeeds both as a tribute to its musical creator and as a satisfying theatrical experience all on its own. “Jersey Boys” is at once a celebration of the music of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, but even more so, it is a compelling portrait of their rise to fame and an emotionally satisfying and entertaining piece. Des McAnuff’s fast-paced direction, reminiscent of his work in the first act of Tommy, is relentless, but with the snippets of recognizable music and a smooth narrative, it is never too much too fast. It is a joy-ride from start to finish.
Which is not to say that it glosses over the more difficult aspects of Valli’s story, and in fact it is in allowing the story to be told from so many different perspectives that it becomes a rich experience. Each of the characters becomes a true character, and not just a mouthpiece for delivering the catchy music. All four men playing the "original" Seasons – John Lloyd Young, Christian Hoff, Daniel Reichard and J. Robert Spencer are uniformly excellent. Each man reveals his character's flaws, but each also shows how his was a necessary contribution to the success of this famous group.
John Lloyd Young’s nasal, high-pitched falsettos are remarkable, and his covers of Valli’s famous anthems and songs are extremely entertaining. But what is more impressive is how he inhabits the character, from his discovery as a 15-year-old boy to a 40-something leader who becomes his own man and takes charge of his life and the group. Young’s acting and musical ability make it his the standout musical performance of the season, and he should be rewarded come Tony time.
Daniel Reichard brings his smooth-crooning and good looks to the part of Bob Gaudio, a would-be one-hit wonder who finds his voice writing for Valli. Gaudio is the kind of character who would ordinarily blend in the background, but Reichard makes sure that Gaudio's combination of ambition and talent ensure that he will remain in the forefront. Although Gaudio eventually gets his wish to stop performing and to focus on his writing and producing, he takes pleasure in knowing just how important he has been to making the Four Seasons’ success possible. Reichard captures this sense of satisfaction, and makes him out to be an all-around good guy.
Christian Hoff has perhaps the most difficult story to tell, because Tommy DeVito’s character is more difficult to sympathize with. But Hoff is terrific from the opening notes of the show through the end. Rounding out the quartet quite nicely is J. Robert Spencer, whose turn as the ordinarily quiet Nick Massu who knows how to lash out and eventually abandons the group, is deep and satisfying.
The book is exceptionally well-put together and thought out. It is filled with plenty of silly and even corny one-liners. But in the context of the show, everything works. It also is remarkably successful in its more dramatic moments, including a pivotal act two scene involving Frankie’s daughter. What the creators have considered is how best to use the music – sometimes it is just presented as numbers (such as cataloging the group’s early hits), other times it is used to further the story thematically, and still other times it is a combination of the two (such as the use of the reprise of “Walk Like a Man” by the group to confront Tommy at the end of Act I. This flexibility allows the music to be used for maximum effect. It has been a long and difficult road, but the creators of Jersey Boys prove that it is possible to use a catalog of pop music and successfully create a moving and complete theatrical experience. Jersey Boys stands up as easily the best new musical of the season, and one of the more satisfying experience of the past several years.
August Wilson Theatre (Broadway)
Starring: John Lloyd Young (Frankie Valli), Christian Hoff (Tommy DeVito), Daniel Reichard (Bob Gaudio), J. Robert Spencer (Nick Massi)
Season after season, creators have been attempting to craft tributes to various musical performers by creating a Broadway show out of their catalog of songs. For the most part, these efforts have been an abysmal failure. This season has seen no less than three such attempts crash and burn – Lennon, Ring of Fire (Johnny Cash) and Hot Feet (Earth, Wind & Fire), and seasons past have seen many more. Perhaps inspired by the success of Mamma Mia! (which for me has remained the only satisfying jukebox venture), these would-be creators persist, searching for that right combination of story and song.
Perhaps we should tip our hats, then, to all of these failed efforts, as it appears they have finally culminated in a truly enriched, theatrical piece which succeeds both as a tribute to its musical creator and as a satisfying theatrical experience all on its own. “Jersey Boys” is at once a celebration of the music of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, but even more so, it is a compelling portrait of their rise to fame and an emotionally satisfying and entertaining piece. Des McAnuff’s fast-paced direction, reminiscent of his work in the first act of Tommy, is relentless, but with the snippets of recognizable music and a smooth narrative, it is never too much too fast. It is a joy-ride from start to finish.
Which is not to say that it glosses over the more difficult aspects of Valli’s story, and in fact it is in allowing the story to be told from so many different perspectives that it becomes a rich experience. Each of the characters becomes a true character, and not just a mouthpiece for delivering the catchy music. All four men playing the "original" Seasons – John Lloyd Young, Christian Hoff, Daniel Reichard and J. Robert Spencer are uniformly excellent. Each man reveals his character's flaws, but each also shows how his was a necessary contribution to the success of this famous group.
John Lloyd Young’s nasal, high-pitched falsettos are remarkable, and his covers of Valli’s famous anthems and songs are extremely entertaining. But what is more impressive is how he inhabits the character, from his discovery as a 15-year-old boy to a 40-something leader who becomes his own man and takes charge of his life and the group. Young’s acting and musical ability make it his the standout musical performance of the season, and he should be rewarded come Tony time.
Daniel Reichard brings his smooth-crooning and good looks to the part of Bob Gaudio, a would-be one-hit wonder who finds his voice writing for Valli. Gaudio is the kind of character who would ordinarily blend in the background, but Reichard makes sure that Gaudio's combination of ambition and talent ensure that he will remain in the forefront. Although Gaudio eventually gets his wish to stop performing and to focus on his writing and producing, he takes pleasure in knowing just how important he has been to making the Four Seasons’ success possible. Reichard captures this sense of satisfaction, and makes him out to be an all-around good guy.
Christian Hoff has perhaps the most difficult story to tell, because Tommy DeVito’s character is more difficult to sympathize with. But Hoff is terrific from the opening notes of the show through the end. Rounding out the quartet quite nicely is J. Robert Spencer, whose turn as the ordinarily quiet Nick Massu who knows how to lash out and eventually abandons the group, is deep and satisfying.
The book is exceptionally well-put together and thought out. It is filled with plenty of silly and even corny one-liners. But in the context of the show, everything works. It also is remarkably successful in its more dramatic moments, including a pivotal act two scene involving Frankie’s daughter. What the creators have considered is how best to use the music – sometimes it is just presented as numbers (such as cataloging the group’s early hits), other times it is used to further the story thematically, and still other times it is a combination of the two (such as the use of the reprise of “Walk Like a Man” by the group to confront Tommy at the end of Act I. This flexibility allows the music to be used for maximum effect. It has been a long and difficult road, but the creators of Jersey Boys prove that it is possible to use a catalog of pop music and successfully create a moving and complete theatrical experience. Jersey Boys stands up as easily the best new musical of the season, and one of the more satisfying experience of the past several years.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Review-Entertaining Mr. Sloane (4.28.06)
Entertaining Mr. Sloane (Saturday, 4.28.06)
Laura Pels Theatre, New York, NY
By: Joe Orton
Starring: Alec Baldwin (Ed), Barbara Sims (Kath), Chris Carmack (Sloane), Richard Easton (Kemp)
It’s hard to enjoy a show when you are physically uncomfortable. Unfortunately, that was the case at the performance of Entertaining Mr. Sloane. Do to an air conditioning problem, the theatre was over-air-conditioned, and could not have been more than about 50 degrees. It is quite unfortunate.
In any event, I’ve always had reservations about Joe Orton’s work. His bawdiness always struck me as transparent and without any real point. But this play is actually interesting both in its construction and its plotline. The able cast, led by the able and sexy Chris Carmack, is well-coordinated and delivers its lines with excellent timing. Carmack’s performance is good because he transcends simply being a pretty face with a gorgeous body. He offers a layered performance that grows in the second act as his character become trapped by the circumstances he has created.
Alec Baldwin is also good as the closeted Ed, delivering some of the more comic moments, while Barbara Sims is also good as the seemingly frail Kath who proves she is just as able and cunning as her brother. Finally, Richard Easton, the veteran actor, delivers a terrific comedic performance as Kemp, the father who recognizes Sloane for what he is – a no good fugitive and murderer.
The entire production is fast-paced without being rushed, and moves along quite nicely, though not quite quickly enough given the discomfort of the theatre. The production is also well-designed, with a flowing set that allows the frenetic action to flow from all sides of the stage. All in all, this is a good production of a good play, praise-worthy indeed.
Laura Pels Theatre, New York, NY
By: Joe Orton
Starring: Alec Baldwin (Ed), Barbara Sims (Kath), Chris Carmack (Sloane), Richard Easton (Kemp)
It’s hard to enjoy a show when you are physically uncomfortable. Unfortunately, that was the case at the performance of Entertaining Mr. Sloane. Do to an air conditioning problem, the theatre was over-air-conditioned, and could not have been more than about 50 degrees. It is quite unfortunate.
In any event, I’ve always had reservations about Joe Orton’s work. His bawdiness always struck me as transparent and without any real point. But this play is actually interesting both in its construction and its plotline. The able cast, led by the able and sexy Chris Carmack, is well-coordinated and delivers its lines with excellent timing. Carmack’s performance is good because he transcends simply being a pretty face with a gorgeous body. He offers a layered performance that grows in the second act as his character become trapped by the circumstances he has created.
Alec Baldwin is also good as the closeted Ed, delivering some of the more comic moments, while Barbara Sims is also good as the seemingly frail Kath who proves she is just as able and cunning as her brother. Finally, Richard Easton, the veteran actor, delivers a terrific comedic performance as Kemp, the father who recognizes Sloane for what he is – a no good fugitive and murderer.
The entire production is fast-paced without being rushed, and moves along quite nicely, though not quite quickly enough given the discomfort of the theatre. The production is also well-designed, with a flowing set that allows the frenetic action to flow from all sides of the stage. All in all, this is a good production of a good play, praise-worthy indeed.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Review-Grey Gardens (4.25.06)
Grey Gardens (4.25.06)
Playwrights Horizons (off-Broadway)
There are few actresses that can command a stage quite like Christine Ebersole. She has tremendous stage presence, and a great ability to captivate whether she is singing or speaking. In Grey Gardens, she has truly found a role worthy of her tremendous talent. Respectively playing the younger and older versions of Edith Bouvier Beale and Edith's daughter “Little” Edie, Ebersole is alternately rip-roaringly funny, dramatic, and touching. Her performance is a true tour de force, and were she on Broadway this season, she’d surely be the frontrunner for the Best Actress Tony.
Grey Gardens is, in fact, a rather entertaining little musical, complete with an original score and a well-written book by Doug Wright. It tells the story of “Little” Edie Beale, the cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier. Little Edie was once almost engaged to Patrick Kennedy, Jr. and lived her early life at the pinnacle of Long Island society. Years later she moved back to Grey Gardens to live with and care for her mother. In the 1970s, the press discovered the two of them there, practically living in squalor, when the two were threatened with eviction by the local government. The connection to Jackie Kennedy led to newspaper headlines. In 1975, the Maysley Brothers released their documentary about the two.
It is in the second act that Ebersole’s starring turn really drives the show, as she displays either dementia or simply the result of years of being battered down by her oppressive mother. Mary Louise Wilson is also excellent, delivering an excellent supporting performance as the elderly Edith Bouvier Beale. Between the two of them, there is a scarcely a moment in the compelling second act where you can take your eyes off the proceedings. (Much of the dialogue apparently comes directly from the documentary.)
The main weakness is that, unfortunately, the first act does not match up to the second. While a necessary prologue to the second act, the first is simply not as interesting or entertaining. Ebersole delivers some fine moments as the elder Beale during the first-act set-up, but Sara Gettelfinger just can’t capture the emotional unsteadiness that leads to the second act revelation. It may not be her fault -- the material just doesn’t provide the insight into her character that translates to the second act.
The show feels small and quaint, quite appropriate for off-Broadway show. Frankly I have trouble imagining it as viable in a broader commercial setting. This is not so much a fault as a warning to the investors who plan to bring the show to Broadway. They might be better off financing an extended off-Broadway run. In that incarnation, this delightful show could live on without being overwhelmed by the commercialism of Broadway.
Playwrights Horizons (off-Broadway)
There are few actresses that can command a stage quite like Christine Ebersole. She has tremendous stage presence, and a great ability to captivate whether she is singing or speaking. In Grey Gardens, she has truly found a role worthy of her tremendous talent. Respectively playing the younger and older versions of Edith Bouvier Beale and Edith's daughter “Little” Edie, Ebersole is alternately rip-roaringly funny, dramatic, and touching. Her performance is a true tour de force, and were she on Broadway this season, she’d surely be the frontrunner for the Best Actress Tony.
Grey Gardens is, in fact, a rather entertaining little musical, complete with an original score and a well-written book by Doug Wright. It tells the story of “Little” Edie Beale, the cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier. Little Edie was once almost engaged to Patrick Kennedy, Jr. and lived her early life at the pinnacle of Long Island society. Years later she moved back to Grey Gardens to live with and care for her mother. In the 1970s, the press discovered the two of them there, practically living in squalor, when the two were threatened with eviction by the local government. The connection to Jackie Kennedy led to newspaper headlines. In 1975, the Maysley Brothers released their documentary about the two.
It is in the second act that Ebersole’s starring turn really drives the show, as she displays either dementia or simply the result of years of being battered down by her oppressive mother. Mary Louise Wilson is also excellent, delivering an excellent supporting performance as the elderly Edith Bouvier Beale. Between the two of them, there is a scarcely a moment in the compelling second act where you can take your eyes off the proceedings. (Much of the dialogue apparently comes directly from the documentary.)
The main weakness is that, unfortunately, the first act does not match up to the second. While a necessary prologue to the second act, the first is simply not as interesting or entertaining. Ebersole delivers some fine moments as the elder Beale during the first-act set-up, but Sara Gettelfinger just can’t capture the emotional unsteadiness that leads to the second act revelation. It may not be her fault -- the material just doesn’t provide the insight into her character that translates to the second act.
The show feels small and quaint, quite appropriate for off-Broadway show. Frankly I have trouble imagining it as viable in a broader commercial setting. This is not so much a fault as a warning to the investors who plan to bring the show to Broadway. They might be better off financing an extended off-Broadway run. In that incarnation, this delightful show could live on without being overwhelmed by the commercialism of Broadway.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Review-Faith Healer (4.22.06)
Faith Healer (Saturday, 4.22.06)
Booth Theatre, New York, NY
By: Brian Friel
Starring: Ralph Fiennes (Frank Hardy), Cherry Jones (Grace Hardy), Ian McDiarmid (Teddy)
Set up as a series of monologues, “Faith Healer” tells the story of Frank Hardy (Fiennes), a faith healer scraping out a living traveling through Scotland and Wales, giving hope to the desperate. A shyster, a showman, whatever he was, you have to take whatever he says with a grain of salt.
As Hardy tells his story, one can see why he was a “success” as a faith healer, if that’s what you can call it. Hardy is captivating and charismatic, even if he is also sleazy and unbelievable. But what is fascinating is his storytelling – not so much his story, but the way he tells it.
The story begins to fill in a bit in the second scene, when Grace, Hardy’s lover, begins to tell her story. Grace’s story overlaps with Hardy’s, but with a different set of details. The story fills in even more when Teddy (McDiarmid), Hardy’s manager, tells his story. The play comes full circle when Hardy’s delivers his final monologue.
Friel is his usual poetic self, employing the same beautiful language and method of storytelling that makes him one of the twentieth century’s great playwrights. What’s interesting about this play is that, for all the beautiful storytelling, the story itself is not all that interesting. What’s fascinating is watching how the stories intertwine; how four separate monologues weave a single cohesive story.
“Faith Healer” also gives an opportunity to watch great actors give great speeches. Leading this terrific acting excursion is Ralph Fiennes, who is simply captivating as Hardy. Fiennes inhabits the character. Fiennes’ charisma allows him to fill the huge stage with his presence. He plays with the language. It is a terrific performance.
Also excellent is Ian McDiarmid as Teddy, Hardy’s manager. McDiarmid finds the most humor in his portrayal. McDiarmid sheds all recollection of his most famous role – the Emperor in Star Wars – and delivers a tour de force performance.
The weak link, if it can be believed, is Cherry Jones, who for all her wonderful talents is simply miscast as Grace. Jones seems out of place, and really not very believable either as an Irish woman or as Hardy’s lover. She doesn’t even bother to put on an Irish (or English) accent, which is jarring juxtaposed as she is between the performances of her British cohorts. In any event, although her performance hits its stride about halfway through and she even reaches an emotional crescendo, Jones seems so out of place that her story – setting aside the story itself – almost seems unrelated to that of either Hardy or Teddy. Perhaps she would have been better off trying to be understated instead of putting it all out there.
In the end, this production of Faith Healer is beautiful in many ways, and a great vehicle for some excellent monologues. As a cohesive piece, though, in this production, it falls just a little short. The four separate pieces don’t really go together, and one almost yearns to get the actors all on the stage at the same time to give it a cohesiveness that it lacks. That said, it is still wonderful to see such terrific actors spitting forth Friel’s dialogue. While it doesn’t live up to its hype, any day when you get Fiennes, Jones and McDiarmid on the same stage (even in succession instead of at the same time) is a day to celebrate.
Booth Theatre, New York, NY
By: Brian Friel
Starring: Ralph Fiennes (Frank Hardy), Cherry Jones (Grace Hardy), Ian McDiarmid (Teddy)
Set up as a series of monologues, “Faith Healer” tells the story of Frank Hardy (Fiennes), a faith healer scraping out a living traveling through Scotland and Wales, giving hope to the desperate. A shyster, a showman, whatever he was, you have to take whatever he says with a grain of salt.
As Hardy tells his story, one can see why he was a “success” as a faith healer, if that’s what you can call it. Hardy is captivating and charismatic, even if he is also sleazy and unbelievable. But what is fascinating is his storytelling – not so much his story, but the way he tells it.
The story begins to fill in a bit in the second scene, when Grace, Hardy’s lover, begins to tell her story. Grace’s story overlaps with Hardy’s, but with a different set of details. The story fills in even more when Teddy (McDiarmid), Hardy’s manager, tells his story. The play comes full circle when Hardy’s delivers his final monologue.
Friel is his usual poetic self, employing the same beautiful language and method of storytelling that makes him one of the twentieth century’s great playwrights. What’s interesting about this play is that, for all the beautiful storytelling, the story itself is not all that interesting. What’s fascinating is watching how the stories intertwine; how four separate monologues weave a single cohesive story.
“Faith Healer” also gives an opportunity to watch great actors give great speeches. Leading this terrific acting excursion is Ralph Fiennes, who is simply captivating as Hardy. Fiennes inhabits the character. Fiennes’ charisma allows him to fill the huge stage with his presence. He plays with the language. It is a terrific performance.
Also excellent is Ian McDiarmid as Teddy, Hardy’s manager. McDiarmid finds the most humor in his portrayal. McDiarmid sheds all recollection of his most famous role – the Emperor in Star Wars – and delivers a tour de force performance.
The weak link, if it can be believed, is Cherry Jones, who for all her wonderful talents is simply miscast as Grace. Jones seems out of place, and really not very believable either as an Irish woman or as Hardy’s lover. She doesn’t even bother to put on an Irish (or English) accent, which is jarring juxtaposed as she is between the performances of her British cohorts. In any event, although her performance hits its stride about halfway through and she even reaches an emotional crescendo, Jones seems so out of place that her story – setting aside the story itself – almost seems unrelated to that of either Hardy or Teddy. Perhaps she would have been better off trying to be understated instead of putting it all out there.
In the end, this production of Faith Healer is beautiful in many ways, and a great vehicle for some excellent monologues. As a cohesive piece, though, in this production, it falls just a little short. The four separate pieces don’t really go together, and one almost yearns to get the actors all on the stage at the same time to give it a cohesiveness that it lacks. That said, it is still wonderful to see such terrific actors spitting forth Friel’s dialogue. While it doesn’t live up to its hype, any day when you get Fiennes, Jones and McDiarmid on the same stage (even in succession instead of at the same time) is a day to celebrate.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Review-The History Boys (4.21.06)
The History Boys (Friday, 4.21.06)
Broadhurst Theatre, New York, NY
By: Alan Bennett
Starring: Sacha Dhawan (Akthar), Rudi Dharmalingam (Crowther, u/s), Dominic Cooper (Dakin), Andrew Knott (Lockwood), Samuel Barnett (Posner), Russell Tovey (Rudge), Jamie Parker (Scripps), James Corden (Timms), Clive Merrison (Headmaster), Frances de la Tour (Mrs. Lintott), Richard Griffiths (Hector), Stephen Campbell Moore (Irwin)
A classroom full of bright and articulate English schoolboys studying for their college placement exams. The play threatens to be just an ordinary exercise, filled with cliché. But instead, this History Boys is a lively and entertaining romp, one that is neither too English nor too pedantic to inhabit the Broadway stage.
Nicholas Hytner, who directed this piece to great success at the National Theatre in London, presents the show in highly stylized fashion, covering on-stage set changes by projecting images on a large screen set to 80s music. The images are of the cast themselves, simulating walking through halls or even riding on a motorcycle. The projections are at first jarring, but since they are connected to the action in the play, they work within that framework.
The show centers around the class led by Hector (Richard Griffiths), a beloved teacher who relishes in knowledge for the sake of knowledge. He is unconcerned with the task of actually preparing the students for their exams. The principal, however, is more concerned with getting his students into Oxford and Cambridge. He brings in Irwin (Stephen Campbell Moore) and young and bright teacher whose philosophy approximates style over substance. Irwin teaches the students that the truth doesn’t matter, and the students take it to heart.
This play works principally because of Bennett’s wonderful use of language. Everyone, from the teachers to the quietest students, communicates beautifully and appropriately (even if not beautifully, it is appropriate). The dialogue is fast-paced and provoking, and so it sparkles as delivered by the cast.
It doesn’t hurt that the dialogue is so beautifully rendered by the superb cast, largely intact from London. Richard Griffiths persona is as large as his girth. He is a tremendous presence, and a sad one where appropriate. He manages never to be hateful, even as the revelation of his molestation of his students comes to light. Also excellent are Stephen Campbell Moore as the sexy new teacher who captivates his students’ attention, and each of the students is fantastic, particularly Samuel Barnett as the sensitive Posner and Dominic Cooper as the magnetic Dakin.
In the end, the main flaw with The History Boys is that its hard to discern if the play has anything to say. Sure, it’s fun to watch and listen to the playful language, but the impact is blunted by the absence of any discernible message. We are never really sure who wins -- Irwin’s style over substance, or Hector’s knowledge for the sake of knowledge. Or perhaps that’s the point. In any event, as an eye into a particular view of life, the History Boys is really tremendous, and the highly stylized presentation is extremely entertaining and even moving.
Broadhurst Theatre, New York, NY
By: Alan Bennett
Starring: Sacha Dhawan (Akthar), Rudi Dharmalingam (Crowther, u/s), Dominic Cooper (Dakin), Andrew Knott (Lockwood), Samuel Barnett (Posner), Russell Tovey (Rudge), Jamie Parker (Scripps), James Corden (Timms), Clive Merrison (Headmaster), Frances de la Tour (Mrs. Lintott), Richard Griffiths (Hector), Stephen Campbell Moore (Irwin)
A classroom full of bright and articulate English schoolboys studying for their college placement exams. The play threatens to be just an ordinary exercise, filled with cliché. But instead, this History Boys is a lively and entertaining romp, one that is neither too English nor too pedantic to inhabit the Broadway stage.
Nicholas Hytner, who directed this piece to great success at the National Theatre in London, presents the show in highly stylized fashion, covering on-stage set changes by projecting images on a large screen set to 80s music. The images are of the cast themselves, simulating walking through halls or even riding on a motorcycle. The projections are at first jarring, but since they are connected to the action in the play, they work within that framework.
The show centers around the class led by Hector (Richard Griffiths), a beloved teacher who relishes in knowledge for the sake of knowledge. He is unconcerned with the task of actually preparing the students for their exams. The principal, however, is more concerned with getting his students into Oxford and Cambridge. He brings in Irwin (Stephen Campbell Moore) and young and bright teacher whose philosophy approximates style over substance. Irwin teaches the students that the truth doesn’t matter, and the students take it to heart.
This play works principally because of Bennett’s wonderful use of language. Everyone, from the teachers to the quietest students, communicates beautifully and appropriately (even if not beautifully, it is appropriate). The dialogue is fast-paced and provoking, and so it sparkles as delivered by the cast.
It doesn’t hurt that the dialogue is so beautifully rendered by the superb cast, largely intact from London. Richard Griffiths persona is as large as his girth. He is a tremendous presence, and a sad one where appropriate. He manages never to be hateful, even as the revelation of his molestation of his students comes to light. Also excellent are Stephen Campbell Moore as the sexy new teacher who captivates his students’ attention, and each of the students is fantastic, particularly Samuel Barnett as the sensitive Posner and Dominic Cooper as the magnetic Dakin.
In the end, the main flaw with The History Boys is that its hard to discern if the play has anything to say. Sure, it’s fun to watch and listen to the playful language, but the impact is blunted by the absence of any discernible message. We are never really sure who wins -- Irwin’s style over substance, or Hector’s knowledge for the sake of knowledge. Or perhaps that’s the point. In any event, as an eye into a particular view of life, the History Boys is really tremendous, and the highly stylized presentation is extremely entertaining and even moving.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Review-The Lieutenant of Inishmore (4.8.06)
The Lieutenant of Inishmore (Saturday, 4.8.06)
Atlantic Theatre, New York, NY
By: Martin McDonagh
Starring: Domhnall Gleeson (Davey), Peter Gerety (Donny), David Wilmot (Padraic), Jeff Binder (James), Alison Pill (Mairead), Andrew Connolly (Christy), Dashiell Eaves (Joey), Brian D’arcy James (Brendan)
Martin McDonagh’s mischievous sense of violence and blood and gore has never been so clearly and obviously placed on stage. There has probably never been so much blood right on stage before. And it has probably never been so funny.
McDonagh is an absolute master of language, and this is no less true of The Lieutenant of Inishmore than it was with his prior (and subsequent) plays. The premise of this play is so absurdly simple, but it is the way it plays out (with such exaggeration) is what’s so humorous. The violence, of course, would still be outrageous, but the fact that it is all centered on the death of a cat is what makes the show so funny.
Notwithstanding that this is a McDonagh play with some brilliantly written passages, the utter violence of everything makes this quite different from McDonagh’s most recent Broadway outing, The Pillowman, which while violent was filled with gorgeously poetic moments. Not so here with Inishmore, which was actually written prior to Pillowman. If there are brilliant turns of phrase, it is the violence and wit that take over.
It doesn’t hurt that there are some absolutely brilliant performances. Leading the charge is David Wilmot, who is frightening, funny, and sexy as Padraic, the ruthless terrorist with a soft spot for his kitty. Wilmot makes the most of his touches of humanity (such as identifying with one of his torture victims over their pets. Domhnall Gleeson is likewise terrific as Davey, the dimwitted young lad who gets caught in the middle, and pairs well with Peter Gerety, similarly dimwitted and truly scared of his own son. Alison Pill is a pistol – quite literally – and an excellent foil to Wilmot’s Padraic. She is tough as nails, just as passionate, just as sharp, but also in some ways more consistent in her violence than even Padraic.
Rounding out the ensemble nicely with some humorous moments are Andrew Connolly, Dashiell Eaves, and Brian D’arcy James.There is little to find fault with this production, which is taught, constantly surprising, and side-splittingly funny. Though I imagine the impact may be dulled slightly upon second viewing (once you know what’s going to happen, the shock factor is diminished), but that takes nothing away from this terrific production of a terrific play.
Atlantic Theatre, New York, NY
By: Martin McDonagh
Starring: Domhnall Gleeson (Davey), Peter Gerety (Donny), David Wilmot (Padraic), Jeff Binder (James), Alison Pill (Mairead), Andrew Connolly (Christy), Dashiell Eaves (Joey), Brian D’arcy James (Brendan)
Martin McDonagh’s mischievous sense of violence and blood and gore has never been so clearly and obviously placed on stage. There has probably never been so much blood right on stage before. And it has probably never been so funny.
McDonagh is an absolute master of language, and this is no less true of The Lieutenant of Inishmore than it was with his prior (and subsequent) plays. The premise of this play is so absurdly simple, but it is the way it plays out (with such exaggeration) is what’s so humorous. The violence, of course, would still be outrageous, but the fact that it is all centered on the death of a cat is what makes the show so funny.
Notwithstanding that this is a McDonagh play with some brilliantly written passages, the utter violence of everything makes this quite different from McDonagh’s most recent Broadway outing, The Pillowman, which while violent was filled with gorgeously poetic moments. Not so here with Inishmore, which was actually written prior to Pillowman. If there are brilliant turns of phrase, it is the violence and wit that take over.
It doesn’t hurt that there are some absolutely brilliant performances. Leading the charge is David Wilmot, who is frightening, funny, and sexy as Padraic, the ruthless terrorist with a soft spot for his kitty. Wilmot makes the most of his touches of humanity (such as identifying with one of his torture victims over their pets. Domhnall Gleeson is likewise terrific as Davey, the dimwitted young lad who gets caught in the middle, and pairs well with Peter Gerety, similarly dimwitted and truly scared of his own son. Alison Pill is a pistol – quite literally – and an excellent foil to Wilmot’s Padraic. She is tough as nails, just as passionate, just as sharp, but also in some ways more consistent in her violence than even Padraic.
Rounding out the ensemble nicely with some humorous moments are Andrew Connolly, Dashiell Eaves, and Brian D’arcy James.There is little to find fault with this production, which is taught, constantly surprising, and side-splittingly funny. Though I imagine the impact may be dulled slightly upon second viewing (once you know what’s going to happen, the shock factor is diminished), but that takes nothing away from this terrific production of a terrific play.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Review-Bridge & Tunnel (1.29.06)
Bridge & Tunnel (Sunday, 1.29.06)
Helen Hayes Theatre, New York, NY
By: Sarah Jones
Starring: Sarah Jones
Close your eyes and you will be transported. The remarkable Sarah Jones captures each inflection, each mannerism. Open your eyes and you will swear that you see a middle aged immigrant from Pakistan, a Chinese woman, an elderly Jewish woman from Staten Island, a second-generation Vietnamese teenager from Chicago. Jones remarkably transforms herself in seconds from one character to the next, and back again.
Jones’ actual performance, however, is not the only remarkable thing. It is also the beautifully written words themselves, also penned by Jones, which are touching and funny all at once. Jones is a poet; she has captured these characters in the way they speak, but also in what they say.
Taken together, these characters capture the immigrant experience – at least, the experience of immigrants interested in becoming part of American society. For this reason, the show rings true as a story about the people of New York City – it tells the story of all of these different people, with different backgrounds and different experiences, but all with one thing in common – their desire to share their experiences and themselves with others. These are community builders.
That said, Jones has wisely put this all in the backdrop of the post 9/11 world, where there is great danger of prejudice. The show starts with the M.C., who is Pakistani, talking on his cell phone to his worried wife about a relative taken in for questioning by the authorities. From this, we understand and appreciate all the more the experiences of these people, all so different, and yet all so contributing to our society and all that is good about it.
Helen Hayes Theatre, New York, NY
By: Sarah Jones
Starring: Sarah Jones
Close your eyes and you will be transported. The remarkable Sarah Jones captures each inflection, each mannerism. Open your eyes and you will swear that you see a middle aged immigrant from Pakistan, a Chinese woman, an elderly Jewish woman from Staten Island, a second-generation Vietnamese teenager from Chicago. Jones remarkably transforms herself in seconds from one character to the next, and back again.
Jones’ actual performance, however, is not the only remarkable thing. It is also the beautifully written words themselves, also penned by Jones, which are touching and funny all at once. Jones is a poet; she has captured these characters in the way they speak, but also in what they say.
Taken together, these characters capture the immigrant experience – at least, the experience of immigrants interested in becoming part of American society. For this reason, the show rings true as a story about the people of New York City – it tells the story of all of these different people, with different backgrounds and different experiences, but all with one thing in common – their desire to share their experiences and themselves with others. These are community builders.
That said, Jones has wisely put this all in the backdrop of the post 9/11 world, where there is great danger of prejudice. The show starts with the M.C., who is Pakistani, talking on his cell phone to his worried wife about a relative taken in for questioning by the authorities. From this, we understand and appreciate all the more the experiences of these people, all so different, and yet all so contributing to our society and all that is good about it.
Review-In The Continuum (1.28.06)
In The Continuum (Saturday, 1.28.06)
Perry Theatre, New York, NY
By: Danai Gurira, Nikkole Salter
Starring: Danai Gurira, Nikkole Salter
Two women discover they have AIDS. Though their circumstances couldn’t be more different, this one fact ties them together, and their stories inevitably interweave. The beauty of this phenomenal play – really a series of two intertwining monologues – is in how the each woman’s stories intersects with the other’s.
Strictly speaking, In the Continuum is not a play – it is really performance theatre, a combination of monologue, poem, one-character play, dance, and song. The story told here is about AIDS, but it is different from the story we’re used to hearing. This is the story of AIDS in Africa, and it is a story which needs to be told. But what is so compelling is the story is also about these two individual women – in telling a story that is universal and pervasive, this piece never veers into the general, and always sticks to what is most compelling – the stories of individuals.
Not enough can be said about the two marvelous playwrights and stars, Danai Gurira and Nikkole Salter. Each has to play several characters while also interweaving their story with that of the other actor. This difficult piece requires tremendous timing, and these two have it. The flow is so seamless, that there could be one actor or a dozen on the stage. But here there are two, and they tell a remarkable story.
In the Continuum is remarkable. It is a deeply moving story that needs to be told. It has a message, a message about universality and the world’s identification with the struggle of the disease which afflicts so many and invades the corners of our so many lives. It is also the story of powerful resolve, and how the most powerful and good of human spirit lives on even as forces work to try and destroy it.
Perry Theatre, New York, NY
By: Danai Gurira, Nikkole Salter
Starring: Danai Gurira, Nikkole Salter
Two women discover they have AIDS. Though their circumstances couldn’t be more different, this one fact ties them together, and their stories inevitably interweave. The beauty of this phenomenal play – really a series of two intertwining monologues – is in how the each woman’s stories intersects with the other’s.
Strictly speaking, In the Continuum is not a play – it is really performance theatre, a combination of monologue, poem, one-character play, dance, and song. The story told here is about AIDS, but it is different from the story we’re used to hearing. This is the story of AIDS in Africa, and it is a story which needs to be told. But what is so compelling is the story is also about these two individual women – in telling a story that is universal and pervasive, this piece never veers into the general, and always sticks to what is most compelling – the stories of individuals.
Not enough can be said about the two marvelous playwrights and stars, Danai Gurira and Nikkole Salter. Each has to play several characters while also interweaving their story with that of the other actor. This difficult piece requires tremendous timing, and these two have it. The flow is so seamless, that there could be one actor or a dozen on the stage. But here there are two, and they tell a remarkable story.
In the Continuum is remarkable. It is a deeply moving story that needs to be told. It has a message, a message about universality and the world’s identification with the struggle of the disease which afflicts so many and invades the corners of our so many lives. It is also the story of powerful resolve, and how the most powerful and good of human spirit lives on even as forces work to try and destroy it.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Review-Rabbit Hole (1.27.06)
Rabbit Hole (Friday, 1.27.06)
Biltmore Theatre, New York, NY
By: David Lindsay-Abaire
Starring: Cynthia Nixon (Becca), Mary Catherine Garrison (Izzy), John Slattery (Howie), Tyne Daly (Nat), John Gallagher Jr. (Jason)
There is nothing perhaps so tragic as the loss of a child, particular a young child in an accident. In the aftermath of such a tragedy, how is a child’s parents to cope?
That’s the set-up of David Lindsay-Abaire’s new drama, Rabbit Hole. In this well-crafted play, Lindsay-Abaire refrains from stating the obvious, refrains from composing long speeches, and instead relies on situation and good acting to make his point. The play is filled with some great one-liners, especially coming from Tyne Daly’s Nat, who uses her tremendous comedic timing to great effect.
But the play is also filled with some touching moments, particularly provided by Cynthia Nixon and John Slattery. The play probably works and succeeds because of its ability to avoid being overly wrought or overly dramatic. Though the movie of the week may portray such a tragedy as being played out through a single big dramatic event, in reality, there is no such big drama. Lindsay-Abaire wisely avoids such big moments, satisfied instead with a series of more subdued scenes. There is also no epiphany, no denouement, no moment when everything rights itself. The characters go through a process, and while you sense that there is progress being made, you are never really entirely sure.
The result is also that none of the individual characters stands out either, and in this case, this is a good thing. It makes the play extremely well-balanced and relies on all of its actors and characters to build the story. There is no particular individual who stands out, and in this excellent, cast, no particular actor who stands out. Similarly, there is no weak link.
Cynthia Nixon’s performance is both touching and accessible on an emotional level. She is guarded, to be sure. But if there is a barrier between her and the audience, it is a necessary one. No woman who lost her young son in a tragic accident would ever simply invite outsiders in. Indeed, Nixon has difficulty even inviting her husband, her mother and her wife back into her world, let alone the audience. John Slattery works well with Nixon, pushing her boundaries, while at the same time dealing with his own obvious frustrations.
John Gallagher, Jr. also gives a nice performance as the young man who, by circumstance and through no fault of his own, perpetrates the accident which takes the boy’s life. Gallagher is self-conscious throughout, but yet he feels compelled to reach out. His discomfort makes sense, and it gives Nixon’s character a change to react and respond in a realistic way.Of course, what makes the play work so well -- it’s lack of a big moment -- is also what leaves the audience a little unsatisfied at the end. The drawback of this type of construction is that there is no “pay off” – no single scene which registers that feeling of emotional satisfaction. But then again, the play is so realistic, that it is still satisfying in its own way.
Biltmore Theatre, New York, NY
By: David Lindsay-Abaire
Starring: Cynthia Nixon (Becca), Mary Catherine Garrison (Izzy), John Slattery (Howie), Tyne Daly (Nat), John Gallagher Jr. (Jason)
There is nothing perhaps so tragic as the loss of a child, particular a young child in an accident. In the aftermath of such a tragedy, how is a child’s parents to cope?
That’s the set-up of David Lindsay-Abaire’s new drama, Rabbit Hole. In this well-crafted play, Lindsay-Abaire refrains from stating the obvious, refrains from composing long speeches, and instead relies on situation and good acting to make his point. The play is filled with some great one-liners, especially coming from Tyne Daly’s Nat, who uses her tremendous comedic timing to great effect.
But the play is also filled with some touching moments, particularly provided by Cynthia Nixon and John Slattery. The play probably works and succeeds because of its ability to avoid being overly wrought or overly dramatic. Though the movie of the week may portray such a tragedy as being played out through a single big dramatic event, in reality, there is no such big drama. Lindsay-Abaire wisely avoids such big moments, satisfied instead with a series of more subdued scenes. There is also no epiphany, no denouement, no moment when everything rights itself. The characters go through a process, and while you sense that there is progress being made, you are never really entirely sure.
The result is also that none of the individual characters stands out either, and in this case, this is a good thing. It makes the play extremely well-balanced and relies on all of its actors and characters to build the story. There is no particular individual who stands out, and in this excellent, cast, no particular actor who stands out. Similarly, there is no weak link.
Cynthia Nixon’s performance is both touching and accessible on an emotional level. She is guarded, to be sure. But if there is a barrier between her and the audience, it is a necessary one. No woman who lost her young son in a tragic accident would ever simply invite outsiders in. Indeed, Nixon has difficulty even inviting her husband, her mother and her wife back into her world, let alone the audience. John Slattery works well with Nixon, pushing her boundaries, while at the same time dealing with his own obvious frustrations.
John Gallagher, Jr. also gives a nice performance as the young man who, by circumstance and through no fault of his own, perpetrates the accident which takes the boy’s life. Gallagher is self-conscious throughout, but yet he feels compelled to reach out. His discomfort makes sense, and it gives Nixon’s character a change to react and respond in a realistic way.Of course, what makes the play work so well -- it’s lack of a big moment -- is also what leaves the audience a little unsatisfied at the end. The drawback of this type of construction is that there is no “pay off” – no single scene which registers that feeling of emotional satisfaction. But then again, the play is so realistic, that it is still satisfying in its own way.
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