Don't Say Things Like That, or They'll Lock You in an Attic in Amsterdam"

"The Tragic and Horrible Life of the Singing Nun" Theatre at St. Clement's, part of the 2006 New York Musical Theatre Festival. September 17, 2006

Loosely based on the known facts of the life of Sister Smile, "The Tragic and Horrible Life of the Singing Nun" interjects the back story of the Belgian nun who recorded "Dominique" and rose to pop fame in the 1960's. Others have charted this path before, such as the 1960's Hollywood whitewash with Debbie Reynolds and Chad Everett, along with an Italian film in 2001 that took a much darker route.

Author Blair Fell penned this story first in a play of the same name in 1996. Paired with Andy Monroe as composer and lyricist, the story is now presented in a musical format, pulling no punches at any target that may willingly present itself, or even mistakenly wander near.

This energetic production, flagrantly directed by Michael Schiralli, is a high energy show and presents the bones of some good work underway.

The premise is that Mr. Berman (Stephen Michael Rondel), a psychiatric patient in an asylum, believes that he was a friend and confidante to Sister Smile during and after her time in the convent of Our Lady of Pernicious and Postulant Wounds. Mr. Berman was also in residence at the convent after ending his career as a cross-dressing Catholic fashion model, still a cross-dresser and nun under the name Sister Coco Callmeismael. The story opens in the asylum with a very well-integrated musical introduction as Mr. Berman begins his flashback in the middle of a showing of the 1966 "Singing Nun" with Debbie Reynolds (film clip and all).

We are quickly taken back in time to meet Jeanine Fou, the soon-to-be Sister Smile (Laura Daniel) on her way home from school. Unattractive and with an unhealthy religious fervor, Jeanine (with her guitar which she's named Sister Adele) sings of life's possibilities - like being a nun and a pop singing star!(Don't Be Afraid, Adele) Magically, Saint Dominique appears and inspires Jeanine to join a Dominican convent to find this happiness. (You Got to Sing, Girl!) Upon arrival at the convent Sister Coco takes her under wing and introduces her to the Reverend Mother Helen Lawson (Kristine Zbornik). When Mother Helen learns of Jeanine's (now Sister Luke Gabriel) goals of singing and pop stardom, she quickly establishes her dominance in the order (Superior).

Jeanine starts to doubt her decision and reflects back to when she told her best friend Annie (Tracey Gilbert) that she was leaving for the convent. Annie, feeling that they were "more" than friends is crushed by Jeanine's decision, but because she loves Jeanine, she accepts it. (I'll Follow You). Annie has her own dream to open a school for unattractive girls with an unhealthy religious fervor. As she looks forward (Welcome to the Rest of Your Life), Annie writes a love letter to Jeanine (Dear Jeanine).

Naturally, the convent is about to hit the financial skids, so Mother Helen calls up Father Lyon (Michael Hunsaker) to help figure out how to raise money. He arrives and discovers Jeanine has written "Dominique" which he knows will be a big hit. Father Lyon was also a Catholic Fashion model's agent before taking his vows and was romantically involved with Sister Coco. As they revive their affair, they work to find a more marketable name for the record than Sister Luke Gabriel (Think!). Unhappy about Jeanine getting too much attention, Mother Helen at first wants to cancel the record, but Father Lyon appeals to her more earthly and material desires. (Loot) The album is released and is a smash hit, money rolling in faster than anyone can count it.

Jeanine is overwhelmed by the success of the album and following performance tour. Mother Helen comes to her aid with pills and liquor to keep her going. (Mother's Here). While drunk and high, Jeanine signs a contract assigning all the profits from the album to the convent. Feeling hemmed in by the convent, Jeanine and Annie reunite. Jeanine wants the freedom to sing on her own terms. Annie hopes that now Jeanine has left the convent, the two of them can consummate their relationship, but Jeanine refuses, offering just a spiritual love. (Welcome to the Rest of Your Life) She's got a new song based on the new birth control pill that will be the center of her new album. With the money from that, she and Annie can open a school for unattractive girls with an unhealthy religious fervor.

When the Pope declares that no Catholic woman should take the Pill, Jeanine (who is still on drugs and drinking)sees her world begin to fall apart. (Jeanine Meets the Media) Coco, who has left the convent as well to be the girl's field hockey coach at Annie's school, shares the news that the Tax Collector has arrived for the income from the first album. (Things Couldn't Get Much Worse) Annie, the optimist, tells Jeanine that whatever happens, they're still together. Jeanine returns to the convent to ask Mother Helen if the convent could pay the taxes, but Mother Helen refuses. (Superior). Jeanine arrives back home and learns that Annie has sold the school to pay the taxes. With nothing left for them, Annie pulls out six bottle of barbiturates and offers to share them with Jeanine, so they can finally be together in the next life. (I'll Follow You)

As Sister Coco, Stephen Michael Rondel carries a large portion of the story-telling in the show. He is experienced in gender travesty, but his Coco comes off a little less than three-dimensional. Some of this may come from the writing because it seemed, at times, there wasn't much for his character to do other than come on and milk a laugh.

Laura Daniel as Jeanine gives a strong performance. Not very tall, and more attractive than the role calls for, she effectively carries Jeanine's arc from dreams to suicide. As Annie, Tracey Gilbert has the strongest connection to her character. When she writes to Jeanine, not knowing where Jeanine has gone, you get a good idea of the love that the real Annie might have felt for the real Jeanine.

As Mother Helen, Kristine Zbornik channels her best Ethel Merman. It's an apt characterization but sometimes borders on caricature. Her first song, "Superior" is terrific. Michael Hunsaker, as Father Lyon and other roles brings a great voice (and a nicely sculpted torso) to the proceedings. Randy Blair, Kristen Beil and Eileen F. Stevens complete the cast, all making excellent contributions in their many supporting roles.

Mr. Fell's book, starts out cleverly and holds up pretty well during a somewhat long first act. He spares no feelings and takes a comic jab wherever he can find it. Jeanine has a fellow nun, Sister Maria who's preparing to be the governess for a widowed naval captain with seven children. Father Lyon has just come from the Monastery of Saint Stephen Edie. Jeanine gets a few of her own quips in "Belgian endive is like life, well-shaped but bitter" and "a convent...like an all-girl hotel." When Jeanine tells her mother "I think all people are basically good." Mother replies, "Don't say things like that, or they'll lock you in an attic in Amsterdam." And, it is not without its anachronisms. As Jeanine accepts her Grammy award, we get the Sally Field "you like me, you really like me."

Mr. Monroe's music and lyrics also keep that strong first act going. It's in the second act when the "tragic and horrible" part begins that the story loses steam. The nice touches of integrating music and story that worked so well in Act 1 all but disappear in Act 2. The scenes get longer, and the songs are fewer and farther between. Having heard Annie's letter song in Act 1, I had expected to hear the suicide note in the form of a reprise. It's quite a challenge to try to balance camp/musical comedy with the tragedy of Jeanine's real life. I think had they left the story and returned to the asylum just after the suicide note, it wouldn't have been such a task to bring the energy and humor back up to end the show.

For more information on the show including cast notes and song clips, click here.

If Only the Carpenters Had Been Involved

"Rainy Days & Mondays" Lion Theatre and Theatre Row, part of the 2006 NY Fringe Festival. September 16, 2006

Well, as is always the case with shows at the NY Fringe, some are good and some are not. One might presume that a Fringe show brought back for encore performances might have earned that invitation through some good quality of the production, be it the writing or an actor's performance.

Having seen "Rainy Days & Mondays," I found no quality worth revisiting, other than a very pretty cast of boys. (If that's all you're looking for, there are plenty of venues in NYC to find as many and more without throwing away your money or your time.) The story was pointless and the performances wooden at best, despite the flagellations of Jamyl Dobson in the role of Lenny. David Reiser needs better career guidance. I've now seen him in two of the worst shows I've seen in NY - this and "Good Vibrations."

Had there been an intermission, I would have left then (like the three guys in the front row who slipped away during a blackout).

The Buddy System

"Never Swim Alone" The Lion Theatre at Theatre Row, part of the 2006 NY Fringe Festival. September 16, 2006

Boys will be boys, it's been said. Sometimes that can mean the frat boys from "Animal House" and sometimes it can mean Leopold and Loeb.

Daniel McIvor gives us something in between as we explore the relationship between Bill and Frank in this revival of his 1999 Fringe entry, "Never Swim Alone." Simply staged for this 10th anniversary of the Fringe Festival, it seems a quintessential Fringe-type show - small cast, simple costuming, sets and lighting, and a script that may not be quite as edgy as it was intended to be.

Bill and Frank have known each other for all of their lives. Best friends from childhood all the way through school. As they grow up, their friendship becomes a rivalry. Mr. McIvor has used an effective technique in his play that has the two (now men) speaking simultaneously as they talk about themselves and each other. More often than not, not only are the speaking simultaneously, they speak identical dialogue in unison. This communicates a bond that ties them together, whether they like it or not. The third character in the play is billed as the Referee, a woman wearing a swimsuit with a whistle on a lanyard. She announces each round of this competition Bill and Frank have undertaken to win the hearts of the audience, calling foul on occasion when one or the other cross an inappropriate line. She also plays the role of a young girl, whose innocent flirtation with them as boys, results in the transformation of the relationship from callow friendship to a series of heated and sometimes cruel competitions. The goal of each competition, as we learn was started with the girl's innocent invitation of "race you to the point" is who will be "first."

Bill and Frank, at a certain level, are interchangeable. "Blue suit, white shirt, silk tie, black socks, black shoes, black briefcase" they announce as they describe themselves in unison. In this first round of their competition, further inspection reveals that Frank has on not black socks, but blue socks. Bill is the winner of round one and gets to speak next. Like their friendship, the nature of the competitions get more and more personal, and more and more vicious as the play progresses.

As Frank, Douglas Dickerman is adorably smug and self-righteous, engaging the audience very quickly with boyish good looks. Mr. Dickerman has the difficult role of being the beautiful monster, but never quite manages to get the monster part across. Even his most cruel actions never quite bite as hard or cut as deep as they should.

In the role of Bill, John Maria gives a subtle portrayal of a man terrified of losing to someone he's always thought of as his equal. Mr. Maria blusters and puffs in Bill's efforts to keep up with Frank. His Frank is someone whose pain you can identify with, but doesn't raise feelings of pity for him.

Not so subtly, Mr. McIvor (who also directs this production) has given away the end of the competition by having Bill in a foot cast throughout the show. The catalyst for the degradation of the relationship is the girl, which is telegraphed fairly early on. It's only a matter of time before he reveals that during the "race to the point" the girl drowns when the boys are more focused on beating each other in the race. Bill shows remorse, but Frank can't let himself do the same. Frank's victories, as you may well imagine become more and more hollow, as he and Bill nurse the wounds they have inflicted on each other. The writing concepts Mr McIvor employs are interesting, but there were many times when he seemed more caught up in form over substance. The simultaneous dialogue and biting exchanges only reveal that the competition is bitter, but doesn't enlighten.

As for production values, this was a typical Fringe show performed in a black box space, using three black stools. The only distractions were Frank's references to wearing a blue suit that was clearly an ill-fitting grey pinstripe.

On the Fringe, (and you all know how I like a little fringe)

I felt like I had made a mistake when I was on vacation during the 2006 NYC Fringe Festival. This is the 10th anniversary of the NYC Fringe Festival, the largest theatre festival in North America. Based on the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, the NYC Fringe always presents a full range of theatrical offerings, from drama, to musicals, to mime, to camp, to political plays. Along with this is a full range of artistic choices and quality. Some shows manage to have respectable budgets that allow for good quality production values, others do not have such budgets. There too, the size of the budget is never a reliable indicator of the quality of the event you'll experience. On occasion, Fringe shows have found their way to Broadway, most notably "Urinetown, the Musical," from the 1999 festival, which was nominated for 9 Tony Awards in 2002. Oddly, it won three for Best Book, Score and Director, but not Best Musical. (I've never figured out how that worked.)

But I digress...my hopes were temporarily raised when I got a blast email that several of this year's Fringe shows were getting encore presentations in September. I say temporarily because as soon as I received the first email, I tried to buy tickets to a couple of shows. At that time, the shows I wanted to see appeared to have already sold out. So, I resigned myself to a "fringeless" 2006 theatre season. (sad face here)

Magically, I got another blast email this week about these encore presentations offering discounted tickets!! (happy boy!) Clicking as quickly as my carpal tunnel would allow, I secured seats for two of the shows, "Never Swim Alone" and "Rainy Days and Mondays."

Reviews will follow.

And why hasn't he posted lately?

Well, I'll tell you!

My theatrical attendance has been somewhat "budget-challenged" because of recent and upcoming travel. I spent a week in Provincetown, MA in August, and I'm going to Russia for 10 days at the beginning of October.

I do plan to see a couple of shows this month and will post my two cents' worth about them before I get on a plane to St. Petersburg.

All This, And a Dirt Floor, Too!

"Druid Synge" Gerald W. Lynch Theatre at John Jay College, part of the 2006 Lincoln Center Festival. July 23, 2006

I just sat through one-third of "Druid Synge" after a friend called. His companion for this marathon of all of John Millington Synge's plays wasn't going to make it past the supper break. This 8.5 hour theatrical event is a production by the Irish troupe, Druid Theatre Company, under the direction of Garry Hynes. I enjoyed the evening, but two Irish plays back-to-back were plenty for me.

The six plays presented were:

• Riders to the Sea
• The Tinker's Wedding
• The Well of the Saints
• The Shadow of the Glen
• The Playboy of the Western World
• Dierdre of the Sorrows

I caught the last two, which presented very different styles.

In "Playboy, " the play opens in the 1800's in a tavern of sorts run by Pegeen. Her father, Michael, and his two drinking buddies , Philly and Jimmy, are headed to a wake, encouraging the young man, Shawn, who wants to marry Pegeen to join them. Shawn is trying to live a clean and proper lifestyle, rather than become yet another drunken Irishman. Amid this, it is revealed that there is a fugitive about who has killed his father. Pegeen is at first shocked, but when Christopher appears at the tavern looking for shelter, she is smitten. As Christopher tells his tale, time and time again, its legendary qualities grow. Soon the entire village is enthralled with the brave young man who stood up to a tyrannical father. Also in the market for a husband is the Widow Quin, who stops by to attempt her claim on the boy, accompanied by three villagers, Honor, Sara and Susan. This trio treat Christopher like a movie star idol, complete with screams of adoration. Pegeen rejects Shawn and promises to marry Christopher. It's not long into Act II that the not-so-dead father shows up to take his whiny and wimpy son home. Christopher now believes his own story of his courage and stands up, replaying the scene from when he thought he killed the man the first time. Since this occurs in the presence of the entire village, Christopher is now rejected and shunned as a murderer by Pegeen and the rest of the village. Widow Quin again makes a play to help when yet again, the not-so-dead father appears. At this point, Christopher has had enough and turns the tables, becoming the tyrant in the relationship.

As Pegeen, Catherine Walsh carries much of the weight of this play. Her Pegeen is typically fiery Irish. Derry Power as her father Michael displays the stereotypical drunken Irishman, with just a hint of Alfred Doolittle tossed in. Marie Mullen, who appears in 5 of the 6 plays is a scheming and self-serving Widow Quin. She balances the nurturing of a mother figure for Christopher with a woman pursuing her own sexual interests without letting it get creepy. As Christopher, Aaron Monaghan has a real actor's workout, physically and emotionally. Even when Christopher is revealed as a fraud, the audience still cares about what brought him to do the things he's done.

As dark as all of this sounds, it was all quite funny. Director Garry Hynes uses a deft hand to broaden the appeal of these very specifically Irish characters.

In "Deirdre," the setting is much darker, approaching a bloody Shakespearean quality. Set in an ancient Ireland, Conor is an older local king who has identified and groomed Deirdre to become his wife. Fiery and red-headed (yeah, go ahead and think Maureen O'Hara), Deirdre only knows that she's been locked away from the world since childhood and is ready for that to end. What follows is a combination of themes from Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet and Macbeth. Deirdre has met a young soldier, with whom she escapes on the eve of her wedding to Conor. This has incited war. Seven years later, Conor makes overtures of peace to reconcile the land. Double-crosses prevail and the stage ends littered with bodies.

As Deirdre, Gemma Reeves brings a striking appearance, but her red hair doesn't have quite enough fire to make her Deirdre anything more than just interesting. Mick Lally as Conor attempts a few Claudius-like moments but ultimately ends up as Lear. As Naisi, Deirdre's soldier-husband, Richard Flood is a most handsome knight in shining armor, eager and passionate to save Deirdre from her fate. When Deirdre has figured out that there is no way to escape Conor's final plot, she tells Naisi basically "we had a good run, let's end it while we can still remember how much we loved each other." That should be a gut-wrenching and tear-inducing moment, but with Ms. Reeves it's only kind of sad. Mr. Monaghan also appears in this play, but I couldn't tell what he was supposed to be at first. His initial entrance was through a window, wearing only plaid pants, torn off just below the knee. He crept about the stage, making me wonder whether he was supposed to be a cat or a monkey (or Mr Peepers, a la Chris Kattan from SNL). Only in the second act do we learn that he is indeed human and also in love with Deirdre. (He waits seven years to cut his own throat after yet another rejection of him to run off with Naisi.)

The set design by Francis O'Connor, which consisted primarily of a dirt floor stage and worn plaster walls worked pretty well for these two plays, but the loose dirt getting kicked around became very distracting for me. Costumes by Kathy Strachen were serviceable for "Playboy" but a little more interesting if not as successful for "Deirdre." With the latter, there was a rather odd mix of contemporary clothing and an ancient traditional gown, along with a couple of kilts, some military coats that looked like design rejects from Elton John's "Aida" and an dress coat/robe that might have belonged to Idi Amin.

This production moves next to the Guthrie Theatre in Minnesota.

"Your Arm's Too Short to Write this Show"

"[title of show]" - Vineyard Theatre, July 15, 2006

The Vineyard Theatre has brought back this production which ran earlier this year. I guess it's too soon to call it a "revival."

The premise for [tos]: Hunter Bell and Jeff Bowen decide to submit a new musical to a theatre festival. The hitch is they don't have anything underway, let alone an idea for a show and only 3 weeks to complete it. Jeff suggests that they treat it as a writing exercise and submit whatever they have at the end of the 3 weeks. Quickly, the idea arises to make the show about writing the show.

Jeff: "What if what we say could be said in a lyric? What if what we say could be part of a song?"
Hunter: "Music in a musical, how could we go wrong?"

As the ideas grow, so does the cast. They bring in their friend Susan, who is ..."no longer auditioning since I started a new role of corporate whore, appearing as the office manager." She adds "[and I'm] a handsome woman - a tough sell [as an actor]." She is followed by Jeff's friend, Heidi; cute, perky, very "broadway." Susan and Heidi foster a semi-competitive, semi-envious relationship together - "She's so great! What kind of girl is she? Does she like me?" - all in great fun.

All along the way, Messr's Bell and Bowen pack their script with inside jokes about the New York theatre community. They go on to talk about the nobility of an original musical, rather than one based on a book or a movie, then listing the endless number of musicals based on books or movies (or both: "Lestat," "Mary Poppins"). Another great concept they use is a series of voice messages on Hunter's answering machine from Broadway actresses. They've called each one to ask them to be in their show. One by one, they decline. Several, however, have their own quirks revealed during their message.

Marin Mazzie: lets out a terrific belch during her message
Victoria Clark: rambles on and on and is eventually cut off by the machine
Amy Spanger: leaves a very polite message, then continues to talk not knowing that she hasn't ended the call. "I can't believe they gave out my fucking home number! Who are these people? Oh...is this still on?"

The great lines abound as well. One of my favorites is a reference to the musical "Ruthless." Hunter and Jeff see no problem with criticizing a show they've never seen - priceless! Another follows a scene Hunter has written where the cast are flying in a dream sequence. Jeff doesn't like it at all and Hunter says the idea "...was like a drag queen - fabulous late at night, but in the light of day, not so much."

As you might guess, the script is completed and the festival accepts the submission, followed by a run at the Vineyard Theatre.

Hunter Bell, a little doughy but cute, has an endearing self-conciousness to his performance that I think only works because he's playing himself. When he and Jeff are faced with feedback from their reading for professional producers his "actor" side kicks in. In these scenes, he is intense and believable, but it seems to undercut his lighter and funnier moments a little. In "Original Musical" Jeff faces the writer's blank page, embodied by Hunter in a blank notebook page sandwich board. Jeff says at one point in the number that he can't tell if Hunter is trying to channel Randy Newman or Ben Vereen - just hilarious!!

Jeff Bowen, also very cute, gives a more focused and direct performance. He takes a little longer to buy in to the possibility that what they're writing will work, remaining a stabilizing force in the cast. In "Playbills and Monkeys," he sorts through his collection of playbills looking for inspiration from some very obscure shows from the musical version of "Carrie" to "Oh, Kaye." The interplay of titles into the lyrics of the song

Susan Blackwell, the "handsome woman," brings a neurotic sophistication to her role. At times quirky, then bitchy, then insecure, or all three at the same time. She presents first as a typical, jaded NY actress (see her introduction above), but reveals true warmth as the group bonds into something like a family. Her "Die Vampire, Die" number exposes all the fears and insecurities every performer or artist experiences in their quest for success.

Heidi Blickenstaff rounds out the quartet nicely. A bright presence and excellent voice provide a balance to some of the quirks in the rest of the cast. She provides one of the dramatic moments in the show when offered a role in a production at Goodspeed while Hunter and Jeff are trying to get a commercial production of the show.

As director and choreographer, Michael Berresse has done a beautiful job with this unusual piece. His clear eye keeps the show sensitive, when it could easily slip into meaningless farce. He doesn't shy away from the self-awareness of the writing and premise, using it instead to enhance the show.

It's rather a shame that this production is scheduled for a limited run through Sept 10. I could easily see this intimate and thoroughly entertaining show in a successful open run at a facility like New World Stages.

Dirty Dollars

"Burleigh Grime$" New World Stages, July 13, 2006

Mark Moses (Desperate Housewives) and Wendy Malick (Just Shoot Me) star in this new Wall Street comedy by Roger Kirby. What could have been a fresh and interesting look at backroom business deals and market manipulations remains another cliche. Mr. Kirby has written this quasi-comedy about a Wall Street high roller, Burleigh Grimes (Mr. Moses) who has discovered a chance to get back at his first boss by putting the former boss' son through his own torture in the world of stock trading. Grimes has a quid pro quo relationship with a television financial reporter Elizabeth Bigley (Ms. Malick) in which he makes stock trades to take advantage of rumored stories he feeds to her (avian flu to global warming are credited among the fictions). Once the profit is made, Grimes and Bigley share in the profits.

Grimes has two henchmen working his trading desk, Buck (the hilarious John Lavelle) and Hap (jason Antoon). Igors to his Grimes' Frankenstein, they carry out his plots and misdeeds all for shared financial fortune. Along come George Radbourn (James Badge Dale), son of Grimes' one-time boss, eager and wet behind the ears. Grimes hires him on the spot to effect his life-long revenge. Also coming along about the same time is Grace Redding (Ashley Williams), brand-new assistant and protege to Ms. Bigley. Wrapping all this up in a nice package is the fact that Grace, George and Buck all went to college together.

Surprise, surprise! George and Grace were lovers in college and friends with Buck, then known as Theo. George is anxious to reunite with Grace, despite the fact that both of them have taken 180 degree turns from their respective majors to their current jobs. She was part of the long-hair, environmentally aware, modern-day hippie crowed and is now being groomed for CNN-style news talking head.

Plots and subplots abound, with most characters making major and unexplained directional changes. Grace starts out wanting to return integrity and honesty to broadcast financial reporting and ends up clawing her way into Bigley's job. George, having erred in his first job authenticating provenance at an auction house finally reveals himself to wanting his own unexplained revenge on a distant (and never seen) father.

Buck, however, wants to be the next Burleigh Grimes and is willing to do whatever it takes to get there. Mr. Lavelle gives Buck, what could have been a 2-dimensional role, significant detail and specificity. His energy and focus as this nerdy, driven, and idiosyncratic character are tremendous. This is one of the least inhibited performances I've seen in New York since seeing Norbert Leo Butz as Freddie in "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels." Less fortunate is Mr. Antoon in the role of Hap. Hap never gets significant focus or motivation to do much of anything other than play straight man to Buck. Mr. Dale, as George, brings a fresh-faced exuberance to his role, but the script seems to hold him back.

As Grace, Ashley Williams (currently appearing in Showtime's "Huff") brings the same sweetness to this role. She gets a little bi-polar in the second act as she tries to manipulate George into giving up confidential information about Burleigh and Bigley's illegal activities. I think she's doing the best she can with a poorly written character. Just naming a character Grace doesn't endow her with that quality.

Ms. Malick gives Bigley the same quick-talking edgy performance she demonstrated on television, but is missing the softness that a Rosalind Russell would have used to humanize her character. Bigley is a cartoon (even demonstrated in her name "Big"ley).

Mr. Moses also suffers from a poorly written role, and doesn't seem able to overcome it with any style or wit. His Grimes (a dirty player of sort - another hand-grenade of character naming) is ruthless and blustering, and generally unlikeable. To see him fall in the end brings no pathos to the proceedings.

David Yazbek has helped out by writing a rock score to back up the action, but the fine performance by the band adds little to the evening. It does provide a basis for Andy Blankenbuehler's competent choreography (a serviceable tango between Mr. Moses and Ms. Malick, and a less serviceable attempt by Mr. Dale and Ms. Williams) to try to present some interest to these two couples' relationships, but again, little is revealed. For me, Mr. Yazbek should have either gone ahead and written songs to make this a full musical, or cut back the music to let it have a more profound effect in pivotal scenes. The current result is mostly noise.

I've been pretty critical of the script, but some of this blame may go to director David Warren. He did create some very interesting blocking and transitions, but seems to have left the actors to their own devices when it came to character and scene development.

It felt, once again, like this show would have been better served as a 1/2 hour pilot for TV, rather than a 2 hour evening of theatre.

So, You Think You Want to be a Therapist

"Shining City" is Conor McPherson's new play presented by Manhattan Theatre Club at the Biltmore Theatre. Starring Oliver Platt, Brian O'Byrne and Martha Plimpton, the potential for this show seemed boundless.

(Spoiler alert - ending plot twist revealed in this review.)

Mr. O'Byrne plays Ian, a new therapist who had been a catholic priest not so very long ago. He's just set up his office in a run-down building in Dublin. Mr. Platt is John, one of Ian's first patients. Ms. Plimpton has a brief but expository appearance as Neasa, Ian's girlfriend and the mother of their infant daughter.

John arrives as an obvious emotional wreck. A roll of offstage thunder accompanies him. (That seemed a little too much telegraphing for my taste.) He reveals that his wife has recently died following a car accident. He feels significant guilt over her death because their relationship had become somewhat distant in the months leading up to her death. His nervous state turns out to be the result of coming into his house, opening a door and when he closes it, he sees the ghost of his wife hovering there, trembling, bloody and reaching for him, in their home. Desperate for validation he demands to know if Ian believes him. Ian, who has little to say during the scene tries to be supportive without explicitly agreeing.

The next scene introduces Neasa, concerned about having to live with Ian's brother and family with their baby. Ian announces that he's working on getting her a place of her own, and attempts to end their relationship as lovers. During the exchange, Neasa reveals that she was unfaithful to Ian before she got pregnant. The turnabout of pain and recrimination for the problems in the relationship bounce about plenty in this scene. Neasa arrived in a mood to fight about the living situation, but leaves with an apology to Ian "...it's not your fault."

John returns, looking a little more together, but as it turns out, really isn't yet. He reveals a flirtation with another woman that almost became an affair. It ended clumsily and he ended up in a brothel in another situation that did not consummate. After returning home from the brothel, he had lashed out at his wife quite violently and lets us know that her death and haunting of him is his punishment.

The next scene, oddly, finds Ian returning to the office with Laurence, a street hustler. Laurence has a wounded hand from a firecracker accident. Strangely, Laurence is the only character whose wounds are physical. In a moment of reversal, Ian sits down on the couch for the first time and Laurence is in the therapist's chair. Ian breaks down as Laurence attempts to get down to business confessing he's never been with another man before. Laurence comforts him, but that seems to be the extent of their contact.

In the final scene, Ian is packing up to move. He's trying to wrap a teddy bear, presumably for his child, but doesn't have enough paper. This seems to demonstrate the running theme for Ian's inability to make things fit. John arrives with a gift to thank Ian for his help. He has moved on, having sold the house and bought an apartment. Time to start fresh. Ian tells him of his own move to Limerick to be with Neasa, to whom he is now engaged. John has seen the woman from his flirtation, realizing there never really was a connection with her. He says of his ghostly visions "Seeing something is one thing. How it makes you feel...is the reality." Ian holds the door open as John leaves. Ian closes the door to reveal the ghost of John's wife, trembling, bloody and reaching for him as the curtain falls.

Other than Mr. McPherson being Irish and born in Dublin, I was uncertain why this play was set there. Nothing in the plot seemed to require that, nor did any of the characters seem to have any traits that seemed particularly Irish. It could have easily been New York, Chicago, London or any large city.

As the play progressed, I kept thinking to myself that there are some great monologues here, but it's doesn't feel very cohesive - just a collection of random scenes tied together by a single character. This shocking image of the dead wife at the end seems to be that Ian has only helped John by assuming his guilt, and as a result, the burden of this ghost.

Mr. Platt brings his usual rapid-fire, sometime non-sequitur-ish, acting style to John. He gives John a decent humanity to a flawed man. Mr. O'Byrne didn't really have as much to do in this role, compared to his last two Tony-nominated appearances in "Doubt" and "Frozen." He spent most of his time listening to Mr. Platt, effectively giving us a picture of man in transition, unsure of where his life will lead. Ms. Plimpton's Neasa was quite compelling, arriving in a blustery fury and quite successfully transforming from accuser to one accused and guilty.

Robert Falls has given this 100-minute (no intermission) set of scenes as much cohesiveness as he can. Transitions and passing of time is accomplished with Mr. O'Byrne doing the heavy lifting (sometimes literally) bringing props and furniture on and offstage between scenes. Santo Loquato's dilapidated office and darkened skyline bring the appropriate Irish brooding to the proceedings. The large window upstage center evokes a cross with the top cut off, perhaps a reference to Ian's departure from the priesthood, which is usually accompanied by excommunication in the Catholic Church. Christopher Akerlind's lighting complemented the sets and direction quite nicely.

Of the other Manhattan Theatre Club shows I've seen at the Biltmore - "Rabbit Hole," "Sight Unseen," "Reckless," "The Violet Hour," this one was very good, but not great.

"Mamma Mia" That's a Pretty Bland Meatball

OK, so it took me 5 years to get to this show. It’s been selling to packed houses since it opened in October, 2001. One of the early jukebox musicals, it uses the entire Abba songbook. Right, wrong or indifferent it uses the ENTIRE Abba songbook.

The very loose plot surrounds Donna, whose 20 year old daughter Sophie is about to be married. Sophie has discovered that her father, heretofore unknown, could be one of 3 men with whom Donna “engaged” in a 2 month period 21 years ago. Harry Bright is British and has become a banker. Bill Austin is Australian and has become a travel writer. Sam Carmichael left Donna to return to a fiance in the US. Sophie has invited all three to her wedding, hoping to identify one as her father who will walk her down the aisle. Revelations abound, but no information is exchanged.

Catherine Johnson appears to have made her musical placements in the book by only the first line of the song. I’ve got to say I laughed out loud more than once when I recognized the song that had just begun. Unfortunately, those occasions should have been ones of higher drama. The worst example was “The Winner Takes It All” after an exchange between Donna and Sam.

And what a young cast! The playbill identifies 19 Broadway debuts among the cast. They are all young and pretty…and kinda bland. One or two may even be talented, though it’s hard to tell among Anthony Van Laast’s muddy choreography. As long as the show has been running, it’s difficult to say whether that’s the fault of the choreographer or the dance captain.

Worth mention among the cast is John Dossett as Sam (the American dad), in yet another thankless male lead in musical theatre (last thankless role was Herbie in “Gypsy” with Bernadette a couple of years ago). His vocal range almost meets what the score requires, but he manages enough conviction in his performance to achieve believability. Leah Hocking as Donna gives a valiant effort, but one can tell she’d much rather have played the role of Donna's glam-glam buddy Tanya, the only character with costumes that flatter. Judy McLane (Tanya) misses a couple of chances to push her over-the-top role, over the top in “Take a Chance on Me” while Ben Gettinger (Pepper, one of the groom-to-be’s buddies) makes a play for her. Gettinger is a prime example of this pretty, but vapid cast; handsome, great body, but he phones in the dance solo.

Naturally, the crowd was on their feet for this schlock-fest at the end. What else could they do? Most of them paid $100 or so for their seat and they’re gonna want to say they gave a standing ovation. The production encourages this as well, with a mini-Abba concert at the end which practically announces that the audience must stand and clap along.

As for production values, the sets are serviceable. Costumes presumably by production designer Mark Thompson make a swing from rural Greek peasant to 70’s Abba chic – and not in a good way. Still there’s plenty of color to distract you. There are a few overstrokes tying together the three adult women with their eventual partners – black for Donna and Sam, red for Rosie and Bill, and orange for Tanya and Pepper. There’s another scene when Sam, Bill and Harry first arrive wearing shades of blue to connect them to Sophie’s tie-dyed peasant skirt.

In the end, it was an evening of brain candy – bright colors, pretty people, fun and familiar music with no thought or analysis required. It was nominated for a Tony in 2002, but then again, so was “The Sweet Smell of Success.” Starts to sound like the nominees for last month’s awards.