Orlando

"Orlando" at Classic Stage Company, September 21, 2010

(photo by Joan Marcus)

Virginia Woolf's tale of an Elizabethan nobleman, who lives as a man until age 30, then wakes from a 6 month coma to find he has become a woman who lives another 370 years without aging comes to Classic Stage Company care of Sarah Ruhl.  It's an aggressive challenge to take on a work that Ms. Ruhl herself describes as "...language...so exquisite it would have seemed like a terrible bastardization to just leave the narration behind and make up dialog."  Despite the over theatricality of the novel's premise, that quality doesn't guarantee great theatre.  Ms. Ruhl, in apparent deference to Ms. Woolf's erudition, gives us an evening that is part acting, part exposition where the characters recite their activities in third person more often that portraying a role.  In the end, it feels more like a writing exercise than a play.

The performers are, however, committed fully and this eclectic cast does their best to rise to the challenge.  Francesca Faridany gives a true image of Orlando as a callow youth, carrying the discomfort through the transformation from man to woman, though the full nudity that ends Act 1 seemed completely gratuitous when a mere revelation of the curve of her breast and hip could have communicated the transformation equally.  The three-man ensemble of David Greenspan, Tom Nelis and Howard Overshown ebb and flow in their effectiveness portraying the various characters both male and female including Queen Elizabeth (Mr. Greenspan) and the man Orlando eventually marries (Mr. Nelis).

Visually, the production is excellent.  Allen Moyer's lush green lawn platform, accented with gilt chairs and an oversized ceiling mirror reflects Christopher Akerlind's thoughtful lighting.  I particularly liked Anita Yavich's costume concept which suggested the various periods of history in a timeless white palette, accented by simple add-ons (or not so simple for Queen Elizabeth).

Director Rebecca Taichman, a frequent collaborator with Ms. Ruhl tries to play along, bringing in some clumsily executed choreography from Annie Parsons, but the results are less than successful.

"Orlando" runs through October 17, 2010

In the Next Room (or the vibrator play)

"In The Next Room or the vibrator play" presented by Lincoln Center Theatre at the Lyceum Theatre, December 5, 2009

(photo: uncredited from Theatremania.com)

Sarah Ruhl's first play on the Great White Way
Is a story of people, not so long ago.
Dr. Givings' new treatments are the talk of the day.
(He treats ladies' "hysteria," you know.)

The treatment releases congestion, you see,
not the head but the womb, with electricity
through a smooth knob that vibrates, applied for three minutes,
she gets her release, then sings like the linnets.

Mrs. G, with inadequate milk for her child
Seeks a wet nurse to help the babe thrive.
Maid Elizabeth, mourning the loss of her own
Needs the cash and a way to survive.

She works for the Daldry's, Mrs. D. suffers so
And her Mr. has brought her to give it a go.
"Such an anguish for me" blindly moans Mr. D.
Then he finally adds, "And for her, of course, too."

Hearing moans from her husband's professional room,
Mrs. G. wants to know how it works.
Mrs. D. sneaks her in for a try and "kaboom!"
A new sensory world starts to perk.

Mr. Irving arrives, having just been jilted
With his own hysteria, raging in throes.
Dr. G. has an implement, sadness is tilted
And Irving feels better, (He's "artistic" you know).

Laura Benanti continues to show a lovely range of acting skill.  This is her first non-singing lead on Broadway and she carries it nicely. Her Mrs. Givings is eager and unsophisticated, guileless and unfiltered, with a tendency to speak of less than appropriate subjects in the height of the Victorian era.  Michael Cerveris is consistently stiff as the ever-proper Dr. Givings, careful to shield his wife from everything a proper lady of the era should not see.  Maria Dizzia's Mrs. Daldry is a woman whose treatments awaken more than just sexual pleasure.  Her responses to the treatments are quite funny.  She shares a lovely moment with Dr. Givings' assistant Annie (Wendy Rich Stetson) after an intimate "manual" treatment when the machine is insufficient.

Quincy Tyler Bernstine's Elizabeth is appropriately shy, demurring from the attention afforded by both Mrs. Givings and the artist Leo Irving (Chandler Williams) who wants to paint her while she is nursing the baby. Her second act monologue about losing her own child is quite touching.  Mr. Williams' Irving struts like a rooster, attempting to regain his composure after his first treatment.  Dr. Givings explains, "Hysteria is rare in a man." He adds, "But then again, he is an artist."

Director Les Waters smooths over the occasional anachronism with a gentle hand, eliciting some very nice moments as mentioned above.  He truly rises to the occasion with the revelations in the lovely final scene between Dr. and Mrs. Givings.

Annie Smart's period set captures the candy store colors of the period, perfectly tufted and tasseled. David Zinn's gorgeous costumes transport delightfully.

I was charmed and thoroughly entertained by this play.  I found it a marked improvement over Ms. Ruhl's previous efforts in NY in the last couple of years, Eurydice and Clean House.  There is a natural feminist angle, a usual feature of Ms. Ruhl's work, but delivered with more ease this time.  She enlightens Dr. Givings with a marked self-awareness of his gender, "What men do not observe because their intellect would prevent the seeing would fill many books."

Eurydice's Lament

"eurydice" at 2econd Stage Theatre, June 3, 2007

(Photo by Joan Marcus)

Sarah Ruhl follows her last play "Clean House" at Lincoln Center Theatre with this retelling of the Orpheus myth at 2econd Stage Theatre. (Spoiler alert - if there can be one about a Greek Myth).

With an eye for significant theatricality, but lacking a bit of the polish she achieved at Lincoln Center, the published premise is that this version will tell the tale from Eurydice's perspective. What we get is not quite as clear, with much of the perspective delivered from her father, who has been waiting for his daughter to join him in the underworld.

Director Les Waters, who has directed this play in other productions at Yale Repertory and Berkeley Repertory Theatres has retained many in the cast from both the Yale and Berkeley productions. The result is a mix of skills.

This Eurydice arrives in the Underworld as a traveler with suitcase in hand and umbrella opened, shielding her from the water of the river which washes away one's memory of life before (shown as a shower of water pouring over her as she exits an elevator). Greeted by three stones, Big Stone (Ramiz Monsef), Little Stone (Carla Harting) and Loud Stone (Gian-Murray Gianino), this truly Greek Chorus establishes that the language of the dead is silent and that all who enter the Underworld forget their lives above existing in peace and quiet for eternity. (Some folks need an extra dip, on occasion.)

She quickly starts to forget anyway, and is met by her father (Charles Shaw Robinson) whom she doesn't recognize. (Apparently he didn't get much of a dip in the river either.) He has continually written letters to her, but not being able to send them, he pastes them on the tiled walls creating a mosaic of sorts. Only one had gotten through. It was that letter, delivered by The Nasty and Interesting Man (Mark Zeisler) that lead to Eurydice's death as he lured her away from her wedding to give her the letter. The death sequence was a bit inelegant.

In the Underworld, she soon recognizes her father and longs for Orpheus to come find her and take her home. In an interesting bit of business, she asks where her "room" is and he creates one outlined in string using hooks in the floor and a hanging framework.

As Eurydice, Maria Dizzia seems limited by a role missing significant depth in the writing. This tone-deaf, rythm-less Eurydice wants to be more interesting than she is - reading books because they are "interesting" yet not really understanding Orpheus' (Joseph Parks) devotion to his music when she asks him repeatedly, "What are you thinking about?" to which he repeatedly responds, "Music." How does a musician as intense as Orpheus fall in love with someone who has no clue what motivates him?

As Orpheus, Joseph Parks has some wonderful moments, but they are few and far between. His heartbreak at losing Eurydice on their wedding day only grows as he manages to send her letters in the underworld. Once he finds his way down and convinces the Lord of the Underworld (Mark Zeisler) to let her return to him, he obediently takes up his task. I felt a little short-changed when Eurydice calls his name before they finish their journey, sabotaging her own return. That moment should have been one for him to indicate his grief at losing her for a second time. It also strikes a bitter chord when Orpheus dies in the end, hoping to join Eurydice but is dipped in the river (presumable Styx, though unnamed) and loses all memory from life.

Charles Shaw Robinson as the Father gives an uneven performance, coming across weak and unsure in his first scenes, but finding his footing once the relationship with Eurydice is reestablished. He has a touching moment as he says good-bye to her, sending her to follow Orpheus back to her life above. In his grief, he dips himself back in the river and loses his memory of her.

Scott Bradley's set is an interesting blue-green tiled creation, with no flat or plumb levels or angles and just enough water not to make the audience feel they should have worn swim fins. Russell Champa's lighting is a key to the successful theatricality in this production and serves well through most of the show. Meg Neville's costumes are an odd mix, from Dickensian England for the Stones' attire, to a blue and pink wedding dress for Eurydice. (I'm still trying to figure out what her goal was for Eurydice's pink suit worn during her time in the Underworld since it seemed to make no connection to any other character or style of dress.)

Director Les Waters has been involved with this play, now in its third production. I can't help but wonder if he's too close to see where shortfalls remain in the play and cast.

The production is an interesting work, but felt a bit like a workshop of a play that still needs some attention. The Orpheus tale should be heart-wrenching, but here we only get that Eurydice was confused about what she wanted, and only a little sad at the result. As she returns to the Underworld, she writes a letter to Orpheus that oddly reminded me of Eve's song "What Makes Me Love Him" from The Apple Tree, sweet but not tragic. Mary Zimmerman's "Metamorphoses" from 2002 at Circle in the Square presented the Orpheus myth in her evening with much more interest and emotion.

Star-watch: Deborah Rush (Sara Blank: "Strangers With Candy") and Michael Emerson (Ben Linus - head bad guy of "the others") in the house.

Did You Hear the One About....?

"The Clean House" at the Mitzi Newhouse Theatre, Lincoln Center, January 23, 2007

Lane (Blair Brown) is a doctor. She likes things neat, tidy and organized. Matilde (Vanessa Aspillaga) is her Brazilian maid, depressed over her mother's death a year before. Virginia (Jill Clayburgh) is Lane's home-maker sister with too little to do. Charles (John Dossett) is Lane's surgeon husband who's just left her for an older woman, Ana (Concetta Tomei) on whom he recently performed a mastectomy. (Spoiler Alert)

Opening with Matilde (dressed in all black) standing on a white set, telling a joke in Portuguese, the show tries to get to shades of grey but never quite did for me. Ms. Aspillaga looks like a human version of comfort food - buxom and zaftig (is that redundant?). She longs for the kind of love her parents had - based on affection and most of all, humor. But she's torn by it - - her mother died laughing from a new joke her father told her. Her father immediately commited suicide from he guilt. As a result, she has no interest in cleaning. Still, Matilde seeks to make up the funniest joke, ever.

Along comes Ms. Clayburgh, also depressed but who finds purpose in cleaning up after others. Her own husband doesn't need her anymore and with no children, there's little to be cleaned at home that hasn't been scrubbed beyond recognition already. So she adopts Matilde and gladly begins doing her job for her. Ms. Clayburgh's Virginia is a little manic, and eager to mother someone - anyone. I wonder if her character's name is symbolically tied to her lack of children?

As Lane, Ms. Brown is in her typical fine form, brusque and busy in an effort to avoid the messiness of life. Her efforts are unsuccessful, both literally and figuratively. By the end of the show, she's pushed/plowed into her estranged husband's life, taking care of his new love when her cancer comes back. (He's gone off to find a rare artic tree, whose bark is supposed to contain a curative chemical compound - and yes, he drags the whole tree into Lane's no-longer clean, white house.)

Mr. Dossett and Ms. Tomei play both the husband and lover, respectively, as well as Matilde's parents in flashbacks. Mr. Dossett, always in solid form, seems a little lost at times. Not sure if that's because of Sarah Ruhl's writing or Bill Rauch's direction here. His role does seem a bit of an apology lost among the high estrogen levels of cast and script. Ms. Tomei comes off stronger, with a nice display of accent for her South American roles.

There is the trashing of the "clean house" as Lane's pristine world falls apart. I thought the symbolism of the whole apple-picking sequence was particularly heavy-handed from Eve's original sin (Charles and Ana's affair) the "apple a day keeps the doctor away" (Ana's illness), followed by the littering of the stage with said apples.

Christopher Acebo's set and James F. Ingalls' lighting work nicely for most of the action - the artic trek is a bit of a stretch, but with the apron stage of the Newhouse, there are going to be limitations. There are also projections of supertitles for the Portuguese dialogue, but these aren't effective for some of the audience - again because of the auditorium's design.

Nevertheless, there were plenty of laughs and a few nice moments of catharsis.

(Starwatch: Jane Alexander in the audience - she seemed to have a lovely time.)