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.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)