Relatively Speaking

"Relatively Speaking" at Brooks Atkinson Theatre, December 20, 2011

As the graphic indicates, this is an evening of 3 unrelated one-act plays.

First up, Talking Cure by Ethan Coen.  Mr. Coen, you make very interesting movies.  Please return when you have an interesting play to show us.  Of all the work I have seen you produce for the stage (Offices, Almost an Evening), none have met that category yet.

Second, George is Dead by Elaine May.  Coming across as Ms. May's version of Neil Simon, this is the better constructed piece.  Doreen (Marlo Thomas) turns up on Carla's (Lisa Emery) doorstep late one night announcing the news that George (Doreen's husband) is dead.  We soon learn that Carla is the daughter of Doreen's childhood nanny, and that Doreen remains a child in more ways than one ought at her age.  Carla, shoved into the role of nanny, succumbs and takes charge making arrangements.

Ms. Emery makes a valiant effort as Doreen's foil.  Ms. Thomas' Doreen seems to have been written (certainly costumed and styled) for Kathie Lee Gifford.  She wheedles and whines, sharing an analogy of conversations as "underwear stories" where she gets bored halfway through and stops paying attention.  It feels as though Ms. May did the same. 

Third, Honeymoon Motel by Woody Allen.  Mr. Allen starts with an interesting premise, then gives up and resorts to Catskill-comedy style one-liners for each character to mug.

Santo Loquasto crams a lot of scenery onstage for these three unrelated productions, each exceeding their source material.

It's hardly an auspicious directorial debut for John Turturro.  Perhaps he was distracted by his own preparation for his appearance in CSC's Cherry Orchard.  Perhaps he was merely underwhelmed by the poor material he'd been enlisted to stage.

Relatively Speaking is on an open-ended run.

Spacey From Across The Sea

" A Moon for the Misbegotten" at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre, May 8, 2007

As the artistic director at London's Old Vic Theatre, Kevin Spacey has found himself a permanent performance venue for the duration of his contract. His first transfer to Broadway is Eugene O'Neill's A Moon for the Misbegotten. Well-received in London, it's a solid production with a very talented cast.

The premise of the play surrounds Phil Hogan, an Irish immigrant farmer working rocky fields he rents from sometime Broadway actor Jim Tyrone in rural Connecticut in 1923. Having already run off his three sons, he's left with only his daughter Josie for help running the place. Jim has promised to sell the farm to Phil when his father's estate, of which the farm is a part, is finally settled. Josie has few prospects for anything that might lead to a husband and a life away from her father. She claims to be satisfied with her lot, having already found affection in the arms of many. Sadly, her true love is the tortured and alcoholic landlord, Jim Tyrone. She is described in Amazonian proportions to the point of horse-like. During the youngest brother's escape, he encourages her to entrap Tyrone into marriage as her last hope. Her father supports the concept and they work on a scheme to make it happen.

As Josie, Eve Best doesn't carry the physical proportions, but manages a gawky and uncultured demeanor that portrays the bovine specimen she should be. Her portrayal is an earnest performance of a fiery woman with plenty of rough edges. Her success is in that she doesn't sacrifice Josie's underlying vulnerability.

Colm Meaney gives a solid turn as Phil Hogan, a struggling immigrant who has chased off his three sons, perhaps intentionally so that they might have a better life than his.

Billy Carter, as T. Stedman Harder, blusters embarrassedly, to the point of not being understood on occasion.

Mr. Spacey's Jim Tyrone is a man who drops by his tenants' farm to get his ego stroked, his drinking problem enabled and enjoy the show. It seemed as though he was only there to watch the excellent performances of Mr. Meaney and Ms. Best during Act I, occasionally interjecting his lines in a non-sequitur style of delivery. It is Act II that Mr. Spacey "takes the stage." He runs the actor's gauntlet, but only becomes credible in Tyrone's drunken breakdown. At that point, it's almost too little, too late.

Bob Crowley's dirt floor and racked cabin sets give the appropriate air of desperation, with Mark Henderson's lighting almost a perfect companion.