The Silver Cord

"The Silver Cord" presented by  Peccadillo Theater Company at the Theatre at St. Clement's, June 8, 2013

(Photo by Carol Rosegg)

A tradition of restorative productions is a sometimes unwieldy proposition.  Peccadillo Theater Company continues its residence at the Theatre at St. Clement's with a revival of the 1927 The Silver Cord by Sidney Howard (who won a posthumous Oscar for the screenplay of "Gone With The Wind).  The Silver Cord was something of a hit in its original run, telling the story of how a sociopathic moher interferes in the relationships of her two sons. 
There are obvious factors to support its revival: small cast, minimal costume and set changes.  Before staging this full production, Peccadillo conducted a reading of the play with Charles Busch as the mother. 

If only they had been able to sign him for this run.

Mrs. Phelps' (Dale Carman) two sons David (Thomas Matthew Kelley) and Robert (Wilson Bridges) dote on and adore their widowed mother, who makes the Dance Moms look like Donna Reed.  Robert is engaged to Hester (Caroline Kaplan) and David has already married Christina (Victoria Mack) during his European grand tour.  David arrives home shortly after his honeymoon and mother is out to maintain her claim of dominance over both sons' lives and relationships.  What ensues is a series of uncomfortable manipulation and self-aggrandizing ploys to drive the new women from their lives.

Despite a lovely, if awkward set (Harry Feiner), the ill-humored melodrama stumbles through two and a half hours of actors desperate to make sense of this creaky and uncomfortable play. 
Some find more success than others.  Costume designer Gail Cooper-Hecht manages to evoke the era on a typical off-Broadway tight budget.

Ms. Mack's Christina achieves a level of balance between the stilted language and manner of the period, and any relevance one might find in the dated situation. Ms. Kaplan's Hester also maintains a level of humanity as she sees herself becoming the forerunner of the Stepford Wives.  Messrs. Kelley and Bridges don't find much beyond the two-dimensional pages from which their characters spring.  Mr. Carman fails to channel his inner Lady Bracknell and leaves us with a Mrs. Phelps who is annoying at best, and forgettable at worst.

One can find some blame for all this in the dated and apparently untouched script from Mr. Howard.  The balance of blame falls to director Dan Wackerman for not bringing any sense of relevance to the dysfunctional family presented.  I won't dignify the scene in David's bedroom with any further description than to say, "ugh."

The Silver Cord runs through July 14.  Tickets are available here.

On a Clear Day You Can See Forever

"On a Clear Day You Can See Forever" at St. James Theatre, December 15, 2012 

Why?

Why change the focus of the story from Daisy, now David (David Turner) to the psychologist Mark (Harry Connick, Jr.) 

Why hire Mr. Connick to perform on Broadway and not let him do what he does best? Did none of the producers and/or creative team see Pajama Game?  "Hernando's Hideaway" turned that show on its ear, combined with the infused chemistry playing opposite Kelli O'Hara.  We get neither here.

Why not have him accompany Melinda's (Jessie Mueller) numbers, particularly "Ev'ry Night at Seven," among several others of which could have been beefed up to accommodate him.

Why give him book scenes that really require an actor?  He's a singer, not an actor.  Even here, he's not even trying.  He might as well be texting the performance in from his dressing room.  He sings solidly, but that, too, comes across as uninspired.

Why did he stick with this show?  It's painfully obvious that he'd rather be somewhere else.  Is he working his own slowdown in hopes of closing it before his contract expires?  That would seem remarkably inconsistent from his last outing.

Why take what was a questionable property and re-write the story to a period when the concept of homosexuality was still highly controversial?  If the idea is to ignore the doctor's struggle over the fact that the woman he loves is in the body of a man, shouldn't it be in a time when that isn't such a struggle?  There's no reason why Melinda had to be David's most immediate past life. Why not hire a book writer with a stronger gay sensibility like Douglas Carter Beane or Richard Greenberg? 

Why does David literally and completely disappear in the flashback scenes, except for "You're All the World to Me?"  That number was the only one that really worked, thanks to the rare, effective bit of choreography by Joann M. Hunter.

Why is the rest of the musical staging such a series of park and barks?

Why wasn't David more adorable?  Drew Gehling's Warren came across much better.  Why was David's BFF Muriel (Sarah Stiles) so obnoxiously written and performed?

Why take such a wonderful song like "What Did I Have That I Don't Have" and reduce it to a single punchline sung by David?  Why waste the talent of Kerry O'Malley?   Why not give it to Sharone (Ms. O'Malley) as she gets more involved in Mark's apparent self-destructive actions, rather than the disrespectful nod of acknowledgement she gets from the secretary late in Act II.

Why waste the talents of Catherine Zuber on such a fashion-deficient era as the '70s?  If that's the look, Mr. Producer, save your cash.

Why?

Man and Boy

"Man and Boy" presented by Roundabout Theatre Company at the American Airlines Theatre, September 10,  2011

Back to reviving classic American theatre, the Roundabout has scored Frank Langella to lead Terrence Rattigan's 1963 story of a corrupt, big-money, business mogul.  Set in 1934 New York, Gregor Antonescu (Mr. Langella), who single-handedly saved the the Franc in 1926, is viewed as the Warren Buffett of his day.  The parallels to today continue with the Great Depression era during which dissatisfaction with Roosevelt sound a lot like the criticisms of President Obama. The truth turns out to reveal Antonescu as a Madoff-like cretin, who created an elaborate Ponzi scheme which is about to collapse.

Antonescu is laying low in NY, and turns to his estranged, illegitimate son Basil (Adam Driver), for help to complete a last ditch deal to re-supply his organization with cash.  Basil has cut ties and abandoned the lifestyle that might have been his after a failed attempt to shoot his father on his 21st birthday.

Mr. Langella is masterful in this creakily written role, finding depth and nuance that likely aren't on the page.  Mr. Driver is miscast as Basil.  His physical presence is anachronistically buff for the sensitive musician that is this bastard son.  Francesca Faridany turns up for another shallow socialite, similar to her role of Vida Philmore from the Atlantic Theatre Company's The New York Idea from earlier this year.

Director Maria Aitken keeps things moving, but the play might have benefited from a bit of adaptation 50 years later.  Derek McLane's Greenwich Village basement apartment works nicely, but is more serviceable than remarkable, as do Martin Pakledinaz' costumes.

Man and Boy is scheduled to run through November 27.

Follies

"Follies" at the Marquis Theatre, September 8, 2011

Stephen Sondheim's 1972 musical returns to Broadway via the Kennedy Center transfer from a successful run this summer. 

It's got star power with Bernadette Peters and Jan Maxwell as Sally and Phyllis, respectively.  There's some depth in the cast as well, with Danny Burstein, Jayne Houdyshell and featuring Elaine Paige as Carlotta.

Director Eric Shaeffer creates an aptly dark mood with a ghostly chorus line of deco-clad follies girls haunting the stage, already in motion as the house opens pre-show.  His sound designer carried it a bit too far, employing effects from Disney's Haunted Mansion before the show begins.  Derek McLane's sets also straddle the line of success.  The crumbling proscenium and brick-walled set, with iron catwalks and stairs evoke nicely, but draping the entire theatre in dirty oil cloth pushes too far. 

Performances are strong.  Ms. Peters excels as Sally, though she's a bit too pitiful at times.  Still, her "Losing My Mind" pulls the heartstrings, and in "Buddy's Eyes" she matches the emotion of her "Send in the Clowns."  Mr. Burstein's Buddy was as usual a bit more fey than necessary, a habit that was better controlled in South Pacific.  Ron Raines as Ben fills the bill.

It's Ms. Maxwell's Phyllis that clinches this production.  Icy, aloof and piercing, she clips and quips through Phyllis' bitter facade.  The highlight is "Could I Leave You" when the bile and resentment of 30 years of an unhappy marriage spew out.  She's electrifying.

Follies, on a limited run, has just announced an extension through January 22, 2012.  This is one to see.

Ragtime

"Ragtime" at the Neil Simon Theatre, December 6, 2009

In its first Broadway revival, Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty's epic tale of three very different American families makes a triumphant return, focusing on their excellent score.

I count myself fortunate for having seen the original production, at what is now the Hilton Theatre, even if it was late in the run (none of the original leads remained).  It was an overwhelming experience - a three story set on which they drove and destroyed a Model T Ford eight times a week.

The focus here, as I mentioned, is now on the score, not a mammoth theatrical installation, although you can't describe Derek McLane's cast iron set small. It's a nice tribute to the old Pennsylvania Station designed by Stanford White, whose personal demise is featured early in the show as Evelyn Nesbitt (Savannah Wise) is introduced.

But I digress.

This revival, while not perfect, is attentive and careful.  There have been some judicious cuts here and there and I couldn't help but feel that the book has been "massaged" a bit as well.  Director Marcia Milgrom Dodge interweaves the staging to match the interweaving of the plot lines surrounding the rich white folks from New Rochelle, the Jewish immigrants on the Lower East Side and the black folks up in Harlem in the first decade of the twentieth century from E. L. Doctorow's book.  Her general staging is thoughtful, though the choreography begs for more attention.

Performances are generally good, but some stand out more than others.  Christiane Noll's Mother takes charge, not only of Father's business while he travels to the North Pole with Admiral Perry, but of her family's story line.  She's in lovely voice and makes the role her own.  Ron Bohmer is at first a stuffed shirt, but ultimately is the only character to say "I love you" in the show. He watches puzzled and lost as the world he thought he knew and ruled falls apart in front of him.  As Younger Brother, I had high hopes for Bobby Steggart, but he seems miscast and misdirected.  This Younger Brother lacks a boiling passion within, missing the energy and restlessness needed for the role.  He seems to nearly sleepwalk through the first act. By the time he works up the courage to join Coalhouse's crusade, it seems to come from nowhere.

Robert Petkoff's Tateh, starts and finishes pretty well, but gets a bit lost along the way.  It doesn't help that the slicing of the scene prior to "Gliding" undercuts the power of the lullaby.  Stephanie Umoh is a breathtakingly beautiful Sarah.  She acts it well, but doesn't seem quite up to the vocal demands of the role.  Much the same, Quentin Earl Darrington is a linebacker-sized Coalhouse Walker, Jr. His acting is also strong, but suffers pitch problems, most severely in "Coalhouse's Soliloquy" at the beginning of Act II.

I was surprised to find that this production had not really addressed the flashback to the night Coalhouse and Sarah met which is plopped rather awkwardly in the middle of Act II.  Still, the Act I moment when Sarah and Coalhouse reconcile was beautiful and heartbreaking.

Looking back over what I've just written, you'd think I didn't like it very much.  Not true - it's a lovely and moving production - not to be missed!

Brighton Beach Memoirs

"Brighton Beach Memoirs" at the Nederlander Theatre, October 16, 2009

(photo by Joan Marcus)

The first of Neil Simon's semi-autobiographical series of plays is about to open in an excellent revival directed by the very talented David Cromer and will run in repertory with the third in the series, Broadway Bound, which begins previews on November 18, 2009.

Mr. Cromer has assembled a terrific cast of Rialto veterans and newcomers to create the extended Jerome family living in Brooklyn. 15 year old Eugene (Noah Robbins) is our narrator and hero, sharing his "unbelievable, fantastic and completely privately thoughts" of the late depression era of his youth. His widowed aunt Blanche (Jessica Hecht) has moved in following the untimely death of her husband along with her daughters Nora (Alexandra Socha) and Laurie (Gracie Bea Lawrence). His older brother Stanley (Santino Fontana) is making some usual stumbles on his way to manhood, while his father Jack (Dennis Boutsikaris) has just lost his extra sales work and is worried about making ends meet to support all seven. All through this his mother Kate (Laurie Metcalf) rules the roost with a mother's most nefarious weapons - guilt and a knowing, withering look.

Mr. Robbins (fresh from the role of Max Bialystock in his high school performance of The Producers) handles this pivotal role with aplomb, smoothly transitioning from expository asides to complete immersion in the scenes. Mr. Fontana's Stanley, handsome and awkward, fulfills the role of Eugene's idol nicely, balancing the torture and tenderness of their relationship evenly. Mr. Boutsikaris' Jack is particularly understated, giving us a real glimpse of the weight of supporting his household.

Ms. Hecht provides a focused and subtly nuanced performance as Blanche, befuddled and lost as a single parent in a time when women were still particularly unempowered. She plays beautifully off of Ms. Metcalf's Kate. Through the rants and guilt trips, Ms. Metcalf provides the backbone of the family and the play. Her timing is impeccable, giving us the mother of all Jewish mothers. It should prove to be one of the high points of the season.

John Lee Beatty's detailed set fills the entire stage, yet still feels a bit cramped with all the elements lined up across the proscenium.

Mr. Cromer's eagle-eyed focus pulls the text to the forefront, confirming this as one of Mr. Simon's strongest plays. The staging and timing are elegantly simple, pulling each of us into the Jerome living room.

Now I can't wait to see Broadway Bound.

Hamlet

"Hamlet" presented by Donmar New York at the Broadhurst Theatre

(Photo by Johan Persson)

In its 66th appearance on the Great White Way, Shakespeare once again proves that good writing gets produced.

It doesn't hurt that the latest version stars Jude Law, directed by Tony Award winner Michael Grandage in a transfer from the Donmar Warehouse production in London earlier this year.

With a production design reminiscent of a Calvin Klein ad ("Discontentment...by Calvin Klein" - ok, I might have borrowed that analogy), this dark, dreary and brooding evening in contemporary dress does hold the audience's attention for its 3+ hour running time. I'll dispense with a plot summary and get directly to the performances.

Mr. Law's is a cynical and jaded prince, managing some shades (about four) as he wails and sobs through his manic portrayal. He acquits himself well overall, but comes across a bit self-indulgent from time to time in his direct address monologues. Gugu Mbatha- is a lovely, delicate and fragile Ophelia (though I missed the gossamer gown for her mad scene when she entered in a gray hoodie). Kevin McNally's Claudius was suitably scheming and devious. Geraldine James' Gertrude, tall and elegant, felt a little unsure of herself at times. Ron Cook's Gravedigger fared a bit better than his Polonius, who tossed away several of his laughs.

Mr. Grandage keeps the production moving relatively well, guiding with a thoughtful hand. Christopher Oram's sets saved a buck or two by keeping the upstage wall of the theatre black, left over from the previous tenants at the Broadhurst, Mary Stuart. His costumes I've already commented about. Neil Austin's moody lighting provided ample challenges for the actors to find a place for their faces to be seen.

This limited run closes December 6, 2009

The Royal Family

"The Royal Family" presented by Manhattan Theatre Club at The Samuel J. Friedman Theatre

George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber's classic play, based on the Barrymores is in a new revival directed by Doug Hughes.

It's a terrific cast with Rosemary Harris, Jan Maxwell, Tony Roberts, John Glover, Ana Gasteyer and Larry Pine.

With Mr. Hughes at the helm of such a talented crew, you'd expect a rollicking evening of smashing theatre.

Sadly, it's merely cute and fun.

I will grant that having seen a preview, there may be some bugs still to work through, but even then the bones should be in place if things are going to work well or not. Mr. Roberts, miscast as business manager, Oscar Wolfe, was still fumbling with lines. Ms. Harris as the matriarch, Fanny Cavendish was regal, as always. Her death scene was remarkable, particularly since she faces upstage at that moment - a tribute to the art and craft of stage performance. Ms. Maxwell, one of my favorite NY actors, felt oddly miscast as the reigning stage diva, Julie Cavendish. She had the patter and flourishes in place, but they somehow felt forced.

It looks as though John Lee Beatty recycled the apartment set from last spring's Accent on Youth, embellishing for the grandness of the Cavendishes. Catherine Zuber's costumes are spot on.

It's certainly a worthy goal get Rosemary Harris on a Broadway stage, but shouldn't the production be worth her time and effort? This traditional staging seems to offer no reasons to explain why this revival has come to pass. It certainly meets none of the points outlined in the MTC mission statement, being neither new nor innovative.

Our Town

"Our Town" at the Barrow Street Theatre, September 15, 2009

With as many plays as I've seen, I had never experienced a full production of Thornton Wilder's Our Town. I've suffered through a number of Emilys braying out her good-bye monologue in high school beauty pageants and auditions, so I was...concerned about what the evening might hold. I had read the plentiful praise heaped on this production and, unfortunately, didn't rush to see it earlier in the summer. I say unfortunately, only in that I ran the risk of not getting a chance to see this production at all.

Mr. Wilder's tale of small town life in New Hampshire at the beginning of the 20th century has been stripped to its barest essentials by director David Cromer. The theatre has been reconfigured into a thrust stage with some audience members seated in the middle of the action. The simplest of set pieces, two tables each with four matching chairs represent the homes of the Gibbes' and the Webb's.

Costumes by Alison Siple are contemporary and casual - jeans, sweaters, knit caps, shirts and ties. The effect is totally disarming as these non-descript "modern" clothes enforce the timelessness of the script, rather than undermine it as a choice like this so often can. Also, Heather Gilbert's lighting, a combination of aluminum clip-lights above a matrix of industrial/institutional hanging fixtures keeps the entire house lit, only occasionally dimming for certain scenes. How refreshing to look up and not see a grid of 245,000 instruments threatening a brown-out before pulling down the ceiling as has become the standard of so many productions.

The cast is uniformly excellent. James McMenamin's George is truly the average boy next door, as innocent and callow as any teenage boy ever was, yet sensitive to the point of tears as his father chastises him for neglecting household chores. Jennifer Grace's Emily matches that insecurity of a bright and shy teenage girl. That worn out "good-bye" monologue has been staged and performed with more intensity and emotion than I ever could have imagined. Jason Butler Harner's Stage Manager carries the weight of the show, managing not just the actors, but the audience as well.

Mr. Cromer's elegant and pure approach has breathed life into the play, confirming it as one of the great literary achievements in theatre. His direct, yet tender treatment of the text creates a truer world than I've seen on stage in a long time.

The run has been extended into 2010.

Go see this play while you have the chance.

Starwatch: Leonard Nimoy in the audience.

Hair

"Hair" at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre, March 26, 2009

I went to see Hair last nighzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.









Oh, sorry.

I was really excited, having heard all the buzz from the production at the Delacorte last summer. I'll admit, I was slightly concerned about how this show about liberation and self-expression which sounded so well-suited for that outdoor venue, might translate into a traditional proscenium venue.

I didn't love it.

I know, I know! It's *Hair*!!

I was generally non-plussed by the whole affair. From Will Swenson's Billy Crudup imitation as Berger, to Gavin Creel's foretold and inevitable Claude caving in to family pressure, I never saw the reason for all the hype.

That's not to say there were no bright spots, just not many of them. Caissie Levy's angry "Easy to Be Hard," the "Black Boys/White Boys" combo, and "Good Morning Starshine" were among the few. Megan Lawrence, however, was terrific as Claude's mother

I struggled with the staging which put most of the early action literally in the front row, blocked from sight by anyone sitting past the front mezzanine. Then, seven songs later, the cast finally appeared to notice there was a mezzanine, and kept trouping up again and again through the rest of the show. I have no problem with breaking the fourth wall, but please have a reason for it other than just being able to.

I was only a child in the 60s (I know, I know!), but what I saw last night was merely a caricature of what the hippies were. This crowd were all too clean and healthy looking to be an accurate representation.

The orchestra was excellent and Kevin Adams (Spring Awakening) certainly knows how to light a rock concert. I'd like to see him take on a different style sometime.

Exit The King

"Exit The King" at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre, March 8, 2009

(photo: Jason Bell)

Think "Lear" by Albee, this 1960s absurdist work of Romanian playwright Eugene Ionesco brings another set of stars back to Broadway with Geoffrey Rush as King Berenger and Susan Sarandon as Queen Marguerite. Lauren Ambrose and Andrea Martin round out the leads as Queen Marie and Juliette the maid, respectively.

Absurd is certainly the word for this tale of a king whose time to die finally arrives after he's allowed his country to shrink into ruin. Mr. Rush and director Neil Armfield have adapted their new translation with several bits of unnecessary profanity, a significant amount of both broad humor and some lovely pathos.

The incipient death of the king has his new wife Marie in pieces, while the old wife Marguerite forces all to face a reality that has been avoided for all of his reign.

Mr. Rush delivers a smashing performance as a clown made king (all the way down to his pajamas and exaggerated makeup), from pratfalls to the terror of realizing his impending death. Ms. Sarandon cuts quite the fine figure taking the role of responsibility to end the King's reign in hopes that the country can revive again. She has a heart-breaking speech that leads the King in his path to death, rather a reverse-Eurydice progression as she convinces him to let go of the invisible burden he carries. Ms. Ambrose commits fully to this role (as she does to every role I've seen her perform), giving everything she can to fill out her two-dimensional part, devoted to her husband and in full-voice denial of his demise.

Dale Ferguson's rotting set and cartoonish costumes are spot-on.

Uncle Vanya

"Uncle Vanya" at Classic Stage Company, January 22, 2009

(photo: Joan Marcus)

Chekhov remains ever present in the NY theatre, with this revival following closely on the heels of "The Seagull" on Broadway, and "The Cherry Orchard" coming to BAM.

First observation: There's a lot of set crammed by Santo Loquasto into CSC's thrust stage, but he certainly has captured the feeling of rural Russia.

Denis O'Hare's Vanya comes across pretty well in spite of (because of?) his usual manic shtick. Peter Sarsgaard fares better in this bit of Chekhov than in the last ("Seagull") but not by much. Maggie Gyllenhaal, long and languid, gives a lovely and effortless performance.

It's Mamie Gummer who really gives the knockout performance of the evening as Sofya, twisting in pain over unrequited love for the doctor.

Carol Rocamora's translation avoids most of the anachronism I felt in the recent "Hedda Gabler" at Roundabout. Direct Austin Pendleton did find ways to muddy things up from time to time, most notably playing one scene onstage and another offstage concurrently.

Hedda Gabler

"Hedda Gabler" presented by Roundabout Theatre Company at the American Airlines Theatre, January 8, 2009

Ibsen's great heroine...in a new adaptation that is both literal and anachronistic at the same time.

Here's another one I had really high hopes for, although I'll admit to having a few feelings of wariness about it. I'm a big Mary Louise Parker fan - "Weeds"? Love her, all the way back to "Longtime Companion." "Proof" blew me away - what an amazing tour-de-force performance!

Then I hear that the Roundabout is producing "Hedda Gabler" which I found a bit curious after the fairly recent and most excellent production featuring Cate Blanchett at BAM.

Disclaimer: I did see a fairly early preview, so there may be some issues that resolve themselves before opening.

Director Ian Rickson, coming off a lovely (if partly miscast) "Seagull" starts out with some eerie mood music and the first of several bizarrre "furniture ballets" which never really seem to indicate anything about the play or move the story along. The static and irregular staging became difficult to follow, particularly in a slow passage before Hedda shoves Lovborg's hand up her dress as she shoves her tongue down his throat. If that sentence sounds jarring, imagine that same response when you see it performed.

And don't get me started on fumbling lines.

Ms. Parker fully commits to her role, but here our Hedda is so disdainful and contemptuous of everyone around her, it's hard to imagine what has earned her such reverence and respect. She insults, dismisses, stalks and plots with total disregard for those around her. It isn't until Act II that she even touches her husband with anything nearing tenderness. Michael Cerveris' Jorgen Tesman bows and scrapes to the point of humiliation - not one of his finer performances.

Christopher Shinn's adaptation comes up short on subtlety and long on sarcasm. I think others have done better with this material. Hildegard Bechtler's tall and heavy set creates more viewing problems than it solves, moving some action so far to stage right that much of the audience can't see what's going on, as well as a small dark room upstage center that distracts more than it hides. Ann Roth's costumes are an eclectic mix of period and Art Nouveau.

I really wanted it to be good - I really did.

Star watch: Annie Parisse in the audience.

The American Plan

"The American Plan" presented by Manhattan Theatre Club at the Biltmore Theatre, January 8, 2009

Richard Greenberg's latest outing on the Rialto is a revival of his fractured fairy tale of sorts, set in a Catskills resort area in 1960.

The princess, Lili Adler (Lily Rabe) sits on a dock watching the social games going on across the lake at the all-inclusive and exclusive resort. Her callow and flawed prince, Nick Lockridge (Kieran Campion) climbs from his swim across the lake onto the dock to join her, apparently unaware that the property is not part of the hotel.

Lili's widowed mother Eva (Mercedes Ruehl), controls the ample purse strings left from her father's death, and the accusations quickly begin. "She murdered him, my father, you know." Eva enjoys her notoriety among the summer guests who refer to her as the Duchess or Czarina ("One should always have a population one can be superior to!"). Rounding out the household is Olivia (Brenda Pressley), the maid.

Seeing such a damsel in distress, Nick is soon enthralled to save her despite already being engaged to a social climber at the hotel, but has motives of his own. Family fortune lost, mother dead, his father was killed when cleaning his gun. Lili forces Nick's loyalty when she starts a rumor that he has an STD. This ends the engagement, not because the fiance' is disgusted, but because she fears she may have been the one to give it to him.

Eva, after some research of her own, learns some of Nick's secrets and rather than use them to get rid of the boy, she lures him into her own trap masked in goodwill. After Gil Harbison (Austin Lysy), another hotel visitor, wanders onto the property several week later, the plot thickens with some not unexpected Greenberg plot twists over who is telling the truth and when.

The story moves well enough at the lakeside, but Mr. Greenberg has tacked on an epilogue of sorts which takes place ten years later in the Adler's NYC apartment. Eva has died and Nick turns up to see Lili - it was never really clear why he came, nor were the protests heard outside her window given so much attention. Their cause was never stated, presumably Columbia students protesting the Vietnam war, but who knows?

As Lili, Ms. Rabe captures the manic child who can't escape the safe, if cloying, clutches of her domineering mother. Mr Campion, who makes his first entrance in only bathing trunks (thankfully!), masks his character a bit too much, leaving his performance slightly lacking. Ms. Pressley avoids the stereotype of household staff (unlike those in "Dividing The Estate"), in a slightly underwritten role.

It is Ms. Ruehl who commands every moment she is on stage. Though the German accent tended to obscure her lines, the character was always clear. She's the monster who suspects she may be a monster, enough so to tell other that possibility exists, but in the end fulfills the foregone conclusion without admitting the truth.

Jonathan Fensom, whose WWI trenches for last year's "Journey's End" evoked such cool dampness has put a nice spin on this revolving set, a tilting dock on a glassy black floor. He has also repeated the use of a traveling curtain for changes, quite similar to his design for "Faith Healer" from 2006. Mark McCullough's lighting completes the effect nicely.

Director David Grindley, who sat silently in the back of the orchestra section as cell phones and pagers continuously sounded during both acts, could work a bit on the pace. The show opens in two weeks, so time remains to tighten up scenes and get all the lines down cold.

I would hope that Manhattan Theatre Club might invest a bit of the Dentyne money to toss out some of the offending cell phone using ticket-holders, since the company sponsored the pre-show announcements and program stuffers. Shame on the offenders and shame on MTC for their inaction afterwards!

All My Sons

"All My Sons" at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, January 3, 2009

Arthur Miller's classic, nearing the end of its limited run and featuring the stunt-casting of Katie Holmes gets the Greek tragedy treatment in this uneven revival.

John Lithgow opens the show literally reading the stage direction from the script with the full cast standing behind him. It's an uninteresting choice of direction that didn't feel particularly fresh or unique, something one might have expected from this third revival on the Rialto. Simon McBurney directs with very broad strokes, aiming for the highest theatricality, but only getting there with some remarkable stagecraft. The storm sequence felt so real, I expected the wind to blow my hair back as rain fell on my cheek. Kudos to Christopher Shutt and Carolyn Downing's sound design. The highly-stylized train sequence was also impressive, but ultimately distracted from the realism with which the rest of the play was performed.

As for the performances, Mr. Lithgow is in his ever-fine form as Joe Keller, the flawed father whose overturned conviction for selling substandard parts to the military during WWII resulting in the deaths of 21 aviators tortures the remaining family and friends who surround him.

Dianne Wiest approaches Wagnerian form as his wife Kate. She doesn't quite get to the "Don't speak...don't...speak...no, don't...speak" theatricality that defined her brilliance in Woody Allen's Bullets Over Broadway, but she gets close as she rails in denial over her missing son Larry, who disappeared during a regular mission during the war and has never been recovered.

Patrick Wilson, playing Larry's older brother Chris seemed a bit too attractive for the role of one overshadowed by a sibling. Mr. Wilson struggles for gravitas and insecurity as a young man trying to move on with life by starting a new life with Anne, his brother's sweetheart. At least he meets the requirement of at least one shirtless scene per show.

As Anne, Ms. Holmes is lovely to look at and does exceed the low standard set by other television and film actors who have trod the boards such as Ashley Judd. She claws to approach the bar set for her by the rest of the cast, but never quite makes it, wavering between the self-conscious and amateurish. Still, her voice seems to have suffered from the strain of 8 shows per week, sounding gravelly and hoarse as she substitutes poor technique for emotional delivery.

It also bothered me that she spent so much time speaking while facing upstage. Note that she was not alone in this type of action. Much of the rest of the cast seemed to have been directed this way as well. (Had the original plan been to have onstage seating like Equus, Xanadu, Spring Awakening, and Inherit The Wind?)

The use of mixed media on the back wall creating ghostly images of the war, the family house profile and a disappearing window to Larry's old room distracted more than it added to Tom Pye's scenic design.

Star watch: Jim Norton (The Seafarer, Port Authority) in the mezzanine near me.

Pal Joey

"Pal Joey" presented by Roundabout Theatre Company at Studio 54, December 2, 2008

In its first Broadway revival since 1976, the Roundabout has assembled a fairly impressive cast and creative team of the Rodgers and Hart classic. With a new book by Richard Greenberg (who either left much of Mr. Hart's original zingers, or significantly studied up on his Noel Coward) the story has been streamlined a bit (farewell Melba Snyder), maintaining the sophistication that is the hallmark of Rodgers and Hart. I did question the new subplot for Mike, the club manager (Robert Clohessy), though it works overall.

As Joey, Peggy Sawyer Matthew Risch has leapt from the chorus to land above the title, replacing Christian Hoff. (Mr. Hoff withdrew as the result of a "foot injury.") Mr. Risch, dark and handsome, is a talented dancer and acquits himself well in the book scenes. Stockard Channing returns to Broadway for the first time since 1999's revival of "Lion In Winter" (also courtesy of the Roundabout). Her Vera is classy, though a bit breathless in song (perhaps she's strapped in a bit too tightly in William Ivey Long's gorgeous gowns?).

For me, it's Martha Plimpton who steals the show as Gladys Bumps. Mr. Greenberg's rewrite has tossed "Zip" her way in Act II - who knew she could sing? She's well on her way to a Bea Arthur-baritone. I can't wait to see what she'll do next.

Ms. Plimpton and Ms. Channing both owe a debt to Graciela Danielle for choreography that swirls the company around each (a la Faith Prince in "Guys and Dolls"). The choreography is excellent overall, but the ballet ending Act I did feel a bit creaky from time to time. Paul Gemignani maintains his standard of excellence with the 16 piece orchestra, though there were times when singers suffered as a result, particularly Mr. Risch and Jenny Fellner as Linda English.

Scott Pask's creative set did feel either a bit over designed or underused. The El train scaffold begged for more attention than just to create extra shadows in Paul Gallo's excellent lighting.

Mr. Mantello should be proud of his work here, creatively staged with fine performances from all.

UPDATE: John Lahr offers a nice analysis with some valuable comparisons between the original book by John O'Hara and the new book by Richard Greenberg. Check it out here.

Streamers

"Streamers" presented by Roundabout at Laura Pels Theatre, November 15, 2008

Set in an army barrack during 1965, three roommates, Richie (Hale Appleman), Billy (Brad Fleischer) and Carlyle (Ato Essandoh) navigate the politics of race and sex. Richie's crush on Billy is either his running joke, or one to disguise the truth of it. Carlyle, the African American with two white roommates is just trying to keep his head down and survive. Billy wants everyone to get along and act "normal."

Roger (JD Williams) shows up, fresh from basic training, looking for a fellow "brother" to connect with in the white man's army of the Vietnam era. He's a loose cannon, foretelling from where the trouble will arise.

Sgt. Rooney (John Sharian) and Sgt. Cokes (Larry Clarke) are tossed in as a tension source, but end up as little more than comic relief until the brutal events of Act II.

David Rabe's play falls victim at times to the period in which it was written, but there are some themes (though clumsily explored) that still ring true regarding class and sexual identity. Mr. Appleman gets the most to work with here and gives a fine performance. Messrs Fleischer and Essandoh are almost as good, pulling what they can from the script. Mr. Williams has flashes of brilliance, but remains inconsistent.

Scott Ellis does well to keep the pace moving and has elicited strong and moving performances from his company. Rick Sordelet should be commended for the fight choreography. It's better than much of what I've seen of late.

Neil Patel's set holds up well to the abuse of the action, complemented by Jeff Croiter's lights. Tom Broecker's costumes are appropriate, but someone should tell Sgt. Rooney that his belt is to be worn brass-on-brass, not flopping around like a curtain tassel. A true sergeant would know that, regardless of his flaws or shortcomings.

The Art and Politics of Seduction

"Les Liaisons Dangereuses" presented by the Roundabout Theatre Company at the American Airlines Theater, April 13, 2008

As much as I admire Laura Linney, when I found out that the Roundabout was reviving "Les Liaisons..." hers was not the first name I thought of.

Foolish me.

In a stylish and glamorous production, sex and intrigue are back on the boards. Director Rufus Norris has assembled, for the most part, a first-rate cast to tell the tale of La Marquise de Merteuil (Ms. Linney) and Le Vicomte de Valmont (Ben Daniels) and those who foolishly stumble into their sights. Valmont is a noble cad, received by proper society but not respected by them. La Marquise, well-widowed, feels slighted over a society issue and seeks revenge by having Valmont seduce Cecile Volanges (Mamie Gummer) the teenage daughter of her offender, already betrothed to a much older man who is also in need of social distress. La Marquise and Valmont have their own romantic history. Disinterested at first because he has set his sights on seducing someone else, La Presidente De Tourvel (Jessica Collins) a beautiful, devoutly religious and devoted wife of another. The Marquise offers an enticement: if Valmont is successful in seducing Cecile, La Marquise will give herself to Valmont for a night of passion.

Turns out that Cecile and her mother Madame de Volanges (Kristine Nielsen) have been invited to stay with Valmont's aunt, Madame de Rosemonde (Sian Phillips), to get Cecile away from the young and unsuitable (meaning no money) Le Chevalier Danceny (Benjamin Walker). The confident Valmont decides to kill two birds with one stone and accepts the challenge.

Plots are twisted, bodices ripped, seductions completed and Valmont wins his challenge. Along the way, however, he and Mme de Tourvel are truly in love with each other. Knowing he would ruin her life, he rejects her. Sword play, dying confessions ensue.

It's really a plot of operatic proportions. I'm amazed at how well it works as a straight play.

Let's start with the supporting roles. Ms. Collins' Mme de Tourvel is a porcelain beauty, but doesn't quite rise to the level of performances around her. Fine-boned and delicate, her accent comes and goes (thanks to my good friend, voice and speech coach Deborah Hecht, no doubt).

Ms. Gummer continues to rack up excellent performances, here in her Broadway debut. Mama Streep should be awfully proud of the child-like petulance we get in Cecile. Her transition from mortified to randy after her first romp with Valmont is delightful. Ms. Nielsen's Mme de Volanges is appropriately befuddled and dotty.

As Mme de Rosemonde, Ms. Phillips was a significant disappointment. Is it just me, or shouldn't all the actors have learned their lines by the time previews have started. Ms. Phillips played not one, but two scenes with pages from her script poorly hidden behind a fan or oversized playing cards. The scenes were near the end of each act - wasn't she studying her lines backstage? Adding insult to injury, she also insisted on wearing her very contemporary spectacles, so she could follow along when other actors are speaking. She practically traced her finger along each line spoken.

Now, it might be one thing, had she been a last minute replacement, but I've heard nothing to that effect and her photo and bio were present in the playbill which certainly requires some lead time. (I remember during last fall's "The Ritz" at Studio 54, Ashlie Atkinson was a last minute replacement, requiring the cancellation of only one preview performance to accommodate learning the role.)

I asked myself, "Where was Marian, Marian Seldes?" (SarahB, that was for you!)

Mr. Walker's Danceny is brash and eager, easily seduced by La Marquise as a ploy to enrage Valmont when she realizes he's falling for Mme de Tourvel.

As Valmont, Mr. Daniels brings to mind a younger (and shorter) Jeremy Irons. He struts and poses like a bantam rooster, sprawling lewdly on the furniture and cutting quite a fine figure during his nude seduction of Cecile. His dying confession to Danceny, however, didn't ring true yet. I'm certain by opening, it will be a heartbreaker.

Ms Linney is triumphant, regal and conspiring, haughty and preening as La Marquise. The fire in her eyes when she realizes Valmont truly loves another is startling. Her stifled reaction to learning of Valmont's death almost makes one feel sorry for her, despite the fact that it's a result of her own manipulations. (There was a moment or two when Lady Bracknell seemed to be speaking, but again I'm sure her performance will be ravishing by opening night.) I feel certain she'll be a contender come Tony time, and as well she should.

Director Norris wields a fine hand in this stylized production, employing baroque singers to evoke the setting of Paris in the 1780's, the calm before the storm, as it were. He employs the dark glass-paneled sets by Scott Pask with simple manipulations to move from salon to salon to bedroom, complemented by heavy silk drapes and swags, all evoking the gilded and mirrored French architecture with ease.

Donald Holder's lighting, however, creates more shadows than illumination. More often than not, it seemed an actor was adjusting his or her blocking to move where a face could be seen. I can't imagine such was intentional.

Katrina Lindsay's lush costumes seemed straight out of a Fragonard painting, subtle and rich silks for all.

Jasmine Guy Syndrome

"The Country Girl" at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre, April 11, 2008

It looked like a dream team: Frances McDormand, Morgan Freeman, Peter Gallagher under the able direction of Mike Nichols in a revival of Clifford Odets' 1950 classic backstage drama.

The piece certainly has pedigree. It won a Tony for Uta Hagen's Georgie in the original, and one for Jason Robards' Frank in the 1972 revival, not to mention the Oscar for Grace Kelly in the 1954 movie version. In its current outing on the Rialto, it seems that the third time is not the charm. I'll try to keep in mind that this was an early preview, but if a production is selling seats at full fare, they should be ready.

The story follows that of Frank Elgin (Mr. Freeman), an aging actor with a teeny, tiny drinking problem. He's playing a walk-on role in a new play when the director Bernie Dodds (Mr. Gallagher) loses his leading actor. Producer Phil Cook (Chip Zien) wants to call in a named star, but Bernie thinks Frank can finally make his mark, based on a performance Bernie saw Frank give 20 years before. Skeptical of his skills and ability to stay dry, Frank accepts the role after talking it over with his long-suffering wife Georgie (Ms. McDormand). Through painful rehearsals, difficulty learning lines, and a drinking relapse during the Boston tryout, Frank pulls through and is a triumph. The drama lies in Frank's obfuscation of his own reality, blaming Georgie and creating a fictitious backstory of insecurity and weakness for her to explain why he drinks and cannot leave her.

Of the three leads, Mr. Gallagher's Bernie comes off the most successfully. There were one or two line stumbles, but it could have been the result of others' stumbling with their own lines as the cause. Ms. McDormand has some great moments as well, but she also suffers from the real weakness in the cast, Mr. Freeman. In her scenes with Mr. Gallagher, the energy returns and their chemistry is quite good together.

The title of this post goes back to the preview I saw of Richard Greenberg's play, "The Violet Hour" at Manhattan Theatre club's inaugural performance at the Biltmore. In it, Ms. Guy played a Josephine Baker-like character. Every time she walked on, it was as if someone had suddenly vacuumed every bit of energy out of the building. She was replaced in her role during previews by Robin Miles, "due to illness" and did not return to the play.

Mr. Freeman suffers a similar fate, but not quite to the same painful result. His trademark sardonic delivery works for some scenes, but the role of Frank needs a significantly larger range of emotions. Perhaps it is art imitating life, or vice versa, but Mr. Freeman struggled frequently with lines, even using the wrong character names at times (for example, referring to Mr. Gallagher's character as Frank, and then corrected by Ms. McDormand). It's difficult to say what caused the lack of chemistry between him and Ms. McDormand, but I never saw any inkling of what drew, and kept, the two characters together.

I also have to question the color-blind casting here. Mr. Freeman is the only role cast with a "minority" similar to the recent revival of "Come Back, Little Sheba" with Epatha Merkerson. In her case, the argument could be made for casting as such without needing to address it in the text of the script. Here it only seems to add to the lack of chemistry found between Ms. McDormand and Mr. Freeman.

Tim Hatley's strongly skewed perspective sets reached back to a similar concept he used in "Private Lives" in 2002. Natasha Katz' lighting complemented nicely. Albert Wolsky's costumes were spot-on to the 1950 setting.

I'm not sure what Mr. Nichols might have done to improve the situation, other than recast Mr. Freeman. I can say for certain that he was still around during previews. There was a technical glitch during the change between scenes 2 and 3, resulting in about a 30 minute delay (broken winch). Mr. Nichols addressed the audience over the PA, thanking us for our patience and graciousness. Perhaps his closing comment summed things up: "If you have drugs, do them." He gets fine performances out of the rest of the cast and keeps things moving, but he just didn't seem able to reach Mr. Freeman.

Starwatch: Actor Sam Rockwell in the audience. (He's not very tall!)