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.

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.

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.