The New York Idea

"The New York Idea" presented by Atlantic Theater Company at the Lucille Lortel Theatre, January 30, 2011

I'm not sure if it's the play itself, or just this latest adaptation by David Auburn, but Langdon Mitchell's premise of a divorced woman, newly engaged to a divorced man was better told by the prolific Phillip Barry in The Philadelphia Story, which premiered on Broadway some six years after The New York Idea's last revival.  One can't help but wonder if Mr. Barry had seen that production.

Set in 1906, Mr. Mitchell's work plods through the unseemliness of divorce at the time, punctuated by the dithering and frowns of the mother and aunt of the groom.  The result is an evening of theatrical fluff, verging on lint.

The cast is up for the game and make noble if unsuccessful efforts to breathe life into the stodgy plot.  As Cynthia Karslake (the divorced bride-to-be), Jaime Ray Newman is perky, but trapped.  Jeremy Shamos's John Karslake, her ex, comes across as mostly embarrassed to be caught up in the proceedings, and not from just his character's perspective.

The most fun to be had is by Francesca Faridany as Vida Phillmore, the groom's ex-wife.  Coming from her recent turn in the title role of Orlando at Classic Stage Company, she gives her best take on a nouveau vamp, bohemian and "modern."  It demonstrates a nice departure from her previous role.

Set designer Allen Moyer gives us a luscious and efficient, Austrian-shade draped set with a rotating collection of fireplaces to represent each location.  Michael Krass' gowns are beautiful.

If only the visual production were enough to make all this effort worthwhile.  The New York Idea runs through February 26.

Ages of the Moon

"Ages of the Moon" at Atlantic Theater Company, February 17, 2010

Sam Shepard's newest play comes to New York after its London premiere, a rambling, almost stream of conscious, 80 minute, two-hander.  The premise is that of Byron (Sean McGinley) arriving to comfort Ames (Stephen Rea), whose wife has just walked out on him after discovering a recent act of infidelity.  Slowly we learn that Byron and Ames haven't been all that close after all as the drinking progresses and the confessions and long-forgotten memories waft in and out.  This meandering exposition includes a tale spilling a pot of coffee on Roger Miller, the possible death of Byron's wife, a badly staged fight resulting in a possible heart attack.

The location of the action appears to be rural America, though this is never explicitly stated.  The rural accents attempted by Messrs. Rea and McGinley travel all across the world, so perhaps that's why it's indefinite.  The age of the two characters is also a bit confusing, since neither actor appears to be pushing 70, as the exposition would propose. (The Roger Miller incident took place in the early 1960s on Ames' honeymoon.)  On top of that, Mr. Rea's dark hair belies his character's age as well.

There are some standard, required elements of a Shepard play - - guns, whiskey and fisticuffs. The gun comes along to address the issue with the "finicky" ceiling fan on the porch which turns of its own volition.

As Ames, Mr. Rea is whiny, needy, jealous and agressive.  Mr. McGinley's Byron comes off like a bit of Forrest Gump, restating the obvious more often than not. Pace lags from time to time as the two men sit and stare off into the distance, sipping their bourbon.  I'm certain these are two very talented actors, but am hard pressed to find them well cast in these roles.

Director Jimmy Fay doesn't seem to have landed on the message in this play of grumpy old men.  I'm not certain Mr. Shepard has either.  Brien Vahey's front porch set serves well, complemented by Paul Keogan's lights.

The Myopia, an epic burlesque of tragic proportions

"The Myopia, an epic burlesque of tragic proportions" Atlantic Theatre Stage 2, January 19, 2010

What is the dividing line between self-indulgence and masturbation?

David Greenspan's two-act monologue walks that line with occasional steps in either direction, weaving an existential web around a tale of his father's attempt to write a show based on the life of Warren Harding, tying in an allegory of his mother as a giant Rapunzel.  His approach is reminiscent of Wallace Shawn, but doesn't approach the detailed imagery found in Mr. Shawn's work.  Mr. Greenspan doesn't seem to dig quite that deeply.  He is never less than theatrical.

His wordplay is intricate, best displayed in the opening sequence in which he discusses the difference between images on a stage and thinking of images on a stage.  The latter may represent the former, but isn't actually the same. One can quickly draw that kind of comparison to his own writing.  He recites these intermixed stories, playing all of the roles on the stage of a theatre, but does that make it an evening of theatre?  When we listen to radio, the only pictures are in our heads.  The same is here since he only paints the images in third-person with his words, gestures and postures.  No real "happening" happens. 

Director Brian Mertes adds to the apparent indulgence of the evening by keeping Mr. Greenspan seated for the entire performance, moving no more than his arms or body position in the chair.  While this does allow a pinpoint focus on the performer, this static approach often lulls, particularly during the first act when combined with the din of Mr. Greenspan's pitched tenor voice.  It's a lot to ask of an audience.  Things do pick up in the second act as Carol Channing makes an appearance in the story to translate part of the tale.  Maybe an earlier entrance for her would perk up the first act.

Two Unrelated Plays by David Mamet

"Two Unrelated Plays by David Mamet" at the Atlantic Theater Company, September 26, 2009

It seems as though Mr. Mamet has taken up the economy of writing that Ethan Coen has exhibited at the Atlantic Theatre Company over the last couple of seasons (Offices, Almost An Evening) and presented a similar character study, along with a more fully written one-act play.

In the character study/sketch, "School," Mr. Mamet begins with something of a riff on the old Abbott and Costello "Who's On First" as two school administrators (ostensibly) argue the merits of a grade-level wide project to create hundreds of posters extolling the theme of "Recycle Paper and Save the World." The following stream of concious (or more simply non-sequiturs) run the topic from recycling to the destruction of matter to the destruction of Dresden to the nature of history to the registration of child molesters and then bouncing back through, resulting in conspiracy theory suspecting the Custodial Union of political plotting. We never learn anything about these characters named only A (John Pankow) and B (Rod McLachlan), though the actors do manage to sustain the patter for the full 10 minutes of the piece.

In the second presentation "Keep Your Pantheon," Strabo (Brian Murray), the actor/manager of a Roman troupe, struggles to keep the act booked while lusting after his young protege Philius (Michael Cassidy). Pelargon (John Pankow), the other troupe member hangs out attempting to be a seldom successful voice of reason. Havoc ensues as they search for ways to get the troupe hired, ending up in the wrong house and insulting the General who enlists them to die at Caesar's command following the legion's recent military loss. Toss in a drunken hobo and a lucky (or unlucky) talisman and you end up almost as confused as I was. Beside the convoluted plot, the dialogue is pretty funny, reminiscent of the anachronistic humor of "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum." Mr. Murray's Shakespearean Strabo, replete with an old man's beer gut carries most of the show. Mr. Cassidy's Philius is a Roman twinkie in the truest sense, barely able to speak but a physical beauty. Jordan Lage gives an understated take on Lupus Albus (white wolf) the insulted General reminding me a bit of Patrick Warburton (Elaine's boyfriend Puddy on Seinfeld).

Takeshi Kata's sets are serviceable if a bit spartan, generally complemented by Christopher Akerlind's lighting. Director Neil Pepe uses a heavy hand for the almost vaudevillian proceedings, heavy on the sight gags, stand-up one-liners and double-takes.

What's That Smell: The Music of Jacob Sterling

"What's That Smell: The Music of Jacob Sterling" at New World Stages, November 14, 20008

After a limited run at Atlantic Theatre's Stage 2, David Pittu's take on an off-Broadway composers has transferred to New World Stages for an open-ended run.

Mr. Pittu has managed to capture the painful essence of Jacob Sterling, an off-Broadway wannabe-but-doesn't-really-have-the-talent theatre composer who is still trying to make it to the bright lights of the Great White Way.

Set as an episode of a small-time cable show, "Composers and Lyricists Of the Theatre," (CLOT) is hosted by Leonard (Peter Bartlett effectively recreating his last role in Paul Rudnick's "The New Century" at Lincoln Center), who finds the inane and convoluted material to be one of America's undiscovered treasures.

Jacob Sterling studied at the San Palo Academy for the Study of Music (SPASM), and has been a featured artist at the Cedar Rapids Association for Musical Performance (CRAMP). The puns run rampant and the musical jokes are spot on.

A highlight of Jacob's college career was his musical stage adaptation of the film "Private Benjamin" as a vehicle for Loni Anderson. (Seems the two had a falling out when she learned he'd never inquired about getting the rights to adapt it from Goldie Hawn. He says fondly, "I can still remember my last conversation with Loni when she found out, Burt shouting in the background.")

Then there is his first New York song cycle, inspired by his mother's first visit to NYC. Everywhere they went, she kept asking, "What's that smell?" Inspiration indeed for such lyrics as "Is it cole slaw? Is it cheese? Is it just old meat?"

Directed by Mr. Pittu and Neil Pepe, the pace is fast and the jokes are rapid-fire. The result is hilarious.

Go see it!

Unrequited Love

"Port Authority" presented by Atlantic Theater Company at the Linda Gross Theater, May 1, 2008

Conor McPherson's latest work hits NYC courtesy of the Atlantic Theater Company. It's a bit of a departure from his more recent efforts, not so much geographically, but in tone and focus. His most recent efforts produced on Broadway were "The Seafarer" and "Shining City," both of which featured a distinctly supernatural and dark story. Here, we get a series of monologues from three Irishmen, each in a different time of his life.

First we hear from Kevin (John Gallagher) who's just moved out of his parents' house after completing school into a house with three roommates. He easily reveals that it was not a good decision, more than it was an act that looked more like a decision than it was truly making one.

Next up is Dermot (Brian d'Arcy James), a man recently, and surprisingly, promoted into a lucrative executive position for which he feels he is totally unprepared. His once-beautiful wife has lost her looks and he feels ashamed of his less-than-average and far-from-athletic son.

Finally, we have Joe (Jim Norton), living out his final days in a retirement/nursing home. He's just gotten a package bearing sad news.

Mr. McPherson doles out each of their stories of hope and love lost in segments. Their stories tug at the heart strings, but the moments of real catharsis are few. At first I was expecting a variation of Brian Friel's "Faith Healer" - not the case. There are times when the three seem loosely connected, but never interact with each other than taking turns speaking.

Mr. Gallagher returns to the Atlantic following the phenomenal arc he rode in "Spring Awakening." His Kevin is a thoughtful, if undirected young man. Lacking ambition or focus, he ambles along living with friends Dave, Speedie and Claire. It's no surprise that he loves Claire and feels pretty sure that she feels the same, though they never make that connection official. There's a lot of talk about meaningful looks, quiet moments and intimate settings but the words are never exchanged. Mr. Gallagher shares this tale frankly and with an earnestness that never broaches self-pity or feels maudlin. He is tender and sympathetic throughout.

Mr. James also returns to the Atlantic following his turn in "The Lieutenant of Inishmore" another Atlantic production that transferred to Broadway. He's in his usual fine form (despite a few minor accent glitches) relating his speedy ride up and down the corporate ladder. His insecure Dermot enjoys his ride up to the fullest, knowing inside that it can't last. When the other shoe finally drops and he returns to his family, his wife kicks him a bit while he's down but he knows he deserves it. Again, there's no self-flagellation or self-pity on display, just a feeling of weakness without apology.

It is Mr. Norton who gives the strongest performance of the three. His story of loving a woman he hardly knew, and the pain he feels upon learning of her death 35 years later. The nuances and shifts of emotions he displays as he weaves his story among the exposition of life among dying retirees are masterful.

Takeshi Kata's bare bones set of a stone-tiled platform with a large bench leaves a wide open stage for Matthew Richards' lighting to create the mood of the assorted locations each man describes. Jenny Mannis' wardrobe has each man dressed similarly (pants, shirt, sweater and jacket) maintaining their parallels.

Director Henry Wishcamper has landed a cast of what are probably the three strongest actors in NYC today. He's done well to keep the various stories apace, also staying out of the way of these fine performers.

A Bit of Dirty Business

"The Voysey Inheritance" at Atlantic Theatre Company, January 16, 2007

David Mamet's adaptation of the Harley Granville Barker play points out to me that Mr. Mamet loves a bit of dirty business. (Spoiler Alert)

Edward Voysey (Michael Stuhlbarg) has just figured out that his father Mr. Voysey (Fritz Weaver) has been cooking the books in the family trust business for at least the last ten years. When confronted about it, Mr. Voysey informs Edward that he "inherited" the same situation with the business from his own father many years earlier. Nearly apoplectic about the ramifications in 1905 London, Edward is cut to the core on how to proceed. If he announces the matter to his clientele, the result will be disgrace and bankruptcy for the entire family, including his brothers the pompous one, Major Booth Voysey (C. J. Wilson), the practical one, Trenchard Voysey (Christopher Duva), and the sensitive one, Hugh Voysey (Todd Weeks), as well as sisters Honor (Rachel Black) and Ethel (Tricia Paoluccio). Further, both Edward and Mr. Voysey would likely end up in prison. Frozen by the decision, Edward begins working to restore the missing money, but within a year, Mr. Voysey has died. It is then he learns that there were many others, including his own mother (Judith Roberts), who knew of the ongoing fraud. One skill Mr. Voysey, and now Edward, had mastered was never missing scheduled distribution payments to the beneficiaries of each trust.

I heard an interview with Mr. Stuhlbarg about the play, who commented that after reading the original, there were large sections left untouched by Mr. Mamet in his adaptation. I'm not sure whose work it is on which I'll be commenting. There's somewhat of a "Chekhovian" feel to the premise of the play - once rich folks still acting so and able to take desparate measures to keep their status quo. What seems key to making such a situation compelling is that one cares about the characters either in spite of, or because of their flaws. This was only partly successful for me, and I think more as a result of the performances than of the writing.

Mr. Stuhlbarg's Edward is so overwhelmed in the first few scenes that he can hardly speak without betraying his own feelings of misery and woe over his recent discovery. He does, however, keep Edward at somewhat of a whimper, even when the company secretary, Mr. Peacey (Steven Goldstein) asks for his annual "bonus" after helping Edward begin the recovery of their clients' assets the year after Mr. Voysey has died. Once might have expected Edward to show more strength, and even though he still refuses the request, it is the potential freeing of the burden by exposure that lets him go head to head with Mr. Peacey. Mr. Stuhlbarg remains torn over the higher concept of the rich protecting themselves and each other to maintain one's station in life, as it were. During a conversation with brother Hugh, the artist, Edward says "...the poor are always with us." Hugh replies "But does it follow that we must betray the rich?" Edward's fiancee Alice (Samantha Soule) also factors in with her own situation. Having inherited her own money which she also manages herself (making her quite modern for the era) she shares what she was told upon taking control of it, "You did nothing to earn it. Don't be surprised if someone tries to take it away from you."

The rest of the cast were solid. Notable was Mr. Weaver as the elder Mr. Voysey, regal and charming, even when confronted with his own misdeeds. Ms. Roberts as Mrs. Voysey recalled a certain Julie Christie quality for me. Ms. Soule as Edward's fiancee Alice was warm and loving. Ms. Paoluccio and Ms. Black as sisters Ethel and Honor, respectively held true to their contrasts - Ethel, somewhat selfish and immature - Honor, silent and above reproach.

Director David Warren does his best to keep the action moving, but it's still an Edwardian era drawing room melodrama. I found the occasional opening of scenes with singing a bit forced for the proceedings. Derek McLane remains a master of sets, well supported by Jeff Croiter's lighting. I had a few questions on some of the men's dinner wear choices in the first act - perhaps Gregory Gale's research time was limited to the gorgeous black jet-beaded gown worn by Ms. Roberts in the first act. Much of the rest seemed like an afterthought.

(Starwatch: Estelle Parsons in the audience at this performance)

Broadway Awakens!

"Spring Awakening" at the Eugene O'Neill Theatre, December 16, 2006

Another feather in the cap of the Atlantic Theatre from last season, "Spring Awakening" has opened on Broadway to significant critical acclaim. I saw the show last spring and liked it, but at the time didn't get the hype about it. I returned tonight and now I can say, "I get it."

My initial reaction to the show earlier this year was, "...yeah, yeah. Teenagers with angst about sex and growing up - been there, done that." It just didn't resonate with me at the time. The original play, "Spring Awakenings" by Franz Wedekind, was written in 1891. At the time, the play was considered revolutionary with its references and discussion of puberty, masturbation, wet dreams and homosexuality. Originally banned, it was not actually produced until 15 years or so later and even then was heavily censored.

Duncan Sheik has picked up the mantle of the rock musical, crossing out of the 19th century into the 21st. Granted, it's been more than six months since I saw the show at the Atlantic, but the piece seems to have come together in a way I didn't remember. Steven Sater's book keeps the setting in 1890s provincial Germany.

Plot Summary (Spoiler Alert):
Wendla (16 going on 17, as it were) can't get Mama to tell her where babies come from. Moritz (the geek) is distraught over the frequency and distractions of his wet dreams. Other boys are having wet dreams about piano teachers, their mothers and each other. Melchior (the coolest kid in school) knows all about sex because of his forward-thinking mother. Melchior writes down everything-Moritz-wants-to-know-about-sex-and-can-barely-ask. This essay only drives Moritz to further distraction and sabotages his studies. He doesn't get promoted to further education or get laid when the opportunity presents itself, then commits suicide (the disapproving and unsympathetic father is heartbroken). All the girls love Melchior, but he only notices Wendla in the woods one day, leading to an ambiguous sexual encounter (consensual?) that leaves her pregnant. When Mama calls the doctor about the fatigue and nausea, she ends up being the one to have to tell Wendla that she's pregnant. Woe, suffering, embarrassment, etc., ensue. Wendla dies during the attempted abortion. Melchior's essay and pending fatherhood are revealed. He's then sent off to a reformatory where he gets beaten up and almost sexually assaulted. He escapes, hoping to meet Wendla to run away together, but when he plans to meet her at the cemetery, he doesn't know she's already there until he stumbles across her grave. Ghosts of Moritz and Wendla appear to stop Melchior from joining them and he runs away to find a new life. Other subplots include the girl whose father beats and molests her, and a boy's seduction of another boy.

I bought in during Melchior's (Jonathan Groff) first number "All That's Known" which overlays the first true "rock" number of the show over the recitation of Aeneas chanted in Latin. Director Michael Mayer started an interesting motif using cordless microphones for the musical numbers to emphasize the juxtaposition of the rock music as the teens' inner thoughts against the staid, period language of the play's setting. This works pretty well until later in the show when he seems to have forgotten that he started that way. Bill T. Jones' choreography adds to this juxtapositioning of periods.

As Melchior, Mr. Groff is well on his way to heart-throb status. Pretty, with curls, he plays the late 19th James Dean, but a little smarter and more cunning. When all ends badly, he's still just a boy and weeps with the abandon of a child. The only area needing attention is an occasional pitch problem in a couple of songs.

As Moritz, John Gallagher, Jr. confirms the talent so well-displayed in last season's "Rabbit Hole" at the Manhattan Theatre Club. Moritz's awkward discomfort and lack of self-confidence is palpable in Mr. Gallagher's performance. His fear of authority from his teachers and parents paralyzes him as a boy cornered and trapped in the torment of his own body.

Lea Michele's Wendla seems to have either lost a little weight since last spring, or has gotten more flattering costumes. Lovely and tender, her fleeting innocence is heart-breaking to watch. When her mother abandons her at the abortionist, her scream is that of a little girl captured by a monster.

The rest of the young cast, which has been filled out with some onstage chorus members who sit on the stage along with part of the audience are solid. Playing all of the adult roles, Stephen Spinella and Christine Estabrook bounce quickly and effectively from role to role as various parents and teachers. Ms. Estabrook is a significant addition in this role. Mr. Spinella has replaced Frank Wood from the earlier production. I was unsure about this choice, but Mr. Spinella performs admirably, bringing a bit more individuality to each of the roles he effects. Most touching was his reaction as Moritz's father at the boy's funeral. Stoic and unmoved, he crumbles in agonizing grief when Melchior touches his chest as if looking for a heart.

Christine Jones has recreated original set along with the complete former-church interior of the Atlantic Theatre's facility on W 20th St. in Chelsea, buoyed by a few hydraulics here and there. It is Kevin Adams lighting that adds significant magic to this production. He crosses back and forth seamlessly between theatrical and rock concert-style effects. Susan Hilferty's costumes are also basically unchanged and effective.

It's an excellent show and a consistent product of the fine work being created at the Atlantic Theatre Company. I look forward to their next offering.