Despite the Star Power, It's Only a Play

Review: It's Only a Play

Rupert Grint, Megan Mullally, Matthew Broderick, Nathan Lane, and Stockard Channing anxiously await their opening night reviews in Broadway's It's Only a Play.

There is no lack of star wattage over at the Schoenfeld Theatre, home to the smash hit revival of Terrance McNally's 1978 comedy It's Only a Play. It's hard to recall the last time so many film and theatrical heavyweights were gathered on one stage, with this production's cast having collectively earned 5 Tonys, 6 Emmys, and 1 Oscar (not to mention dozens more nominations and plenty of widespread acclaim). But despite an unquestionably high level of talent, this mighty ensemble struggles and ultimately fails to elevate McNally's heavily updated script into something greater than what it is: an overlong and only haphazardly funny pseudo-farce.

The premise seems rife for comedic gold: at the opening night party, playwright Peter Austin (Matthew Broderick) is anxiously waiting for the reviews of his latest Broadway play, financed by first time producer Julia Budder (Megan Mullally) and directed by British wunderkind Frank Finger (Rupert Grint). Also on hand are Austin's best friend James Wicker (Nathan Lane), who turned down the play's lead role due to his television commitments; booze-addled leading lady Victoria Noise (Stockard Channing); legendarily harsh drama critic Ira Drew (F. Murray Abraham); and a coat check boy who landed this gig on his first night in New York City (newcomer Micah Stock, who probably doesn't have to dig too deep to portray his character's starry eyed admiration). We learn very early on that despite his outward praise, Wicker hated Austin's play - aptly titled The Golden Egg - and is secretly hoping for validation of his feelings from the press, including the all important Ben Brantley from The New York Times.

McNally's setup easily lends itself to off the wall characterizations and more theatrical in jokes than you can shake a stick at; Bernadette Peters, Liza Minelli, and Tommy Tune are just a few of the many theatrical personalities that are mentioned and mocked to varying degrees. However, the ultimately thin premise struggles to fill the production's two-and-a-half hour runtime, and you can't help but think everyone would have been better served by condensing the play down to one act. While some of McNally's barbs are truly hilarious, others feel weirdly out of place in a show that never lets you forget you're watching theatrical royalty. This production embodies many of the theatrical movements it rails against, with complaints about celebrity led revivals and digs at the artistic wasteland of Hollywood ringing false when spoken by such a famous cast widely known for their film work. Such observations are clearly meant to mirror McNally's own feelings, leaving the author looking something like a hypocrite as he happily perpetuates these trends on his way to the bank.

The production also feels oddly censored despite the proliferation of four letter words (anyone who's ever wanted to hear Stockard Channing drop the f-bomb will more than get their money's worth). There is a cranky-old-man undercurrent running through the work that you wish McNally and director Jack O'Brien had more fully embraced, because when they do the play is downright hysterical. Certain jokes seem to have been toned down out of fear of offending the myriad celebrities mentioned in the play, especially since the cast and creative team know many of them personally, but most theatre folk have a sense of humor that surely could have withstood some well-intentioned ribbing. There is a particularly pointed bit about Harvey Fierstein, but you just know the gravely voiced actor would be laughing as loudly as anyone because ultimately, the joke is both hilarious and true. Between the watered down jokes and bloated runtime, It's Only a Play too often produces mere chuckles when belly laughs are called for.

The cast, for all of their talent, runs the gamut from very good to oddly misused. Lane, one of the most reliably excellent actors around, comes across the best, although even his normally boundless energy feels tamped down. Still, every actor could learn from Lane's ability to skirt the line between milking a joke and mugging; no matter how long he draws out a beat it never crosses the line into self indulgence, and when called for he can summon deep wells of emotion. Channing also does fine work as the washed up film actress hoping to make her comeback, although the character is too thinly written to allow her to really cut loose. In his Broadway debut, Grint plays the temperamental director archetype with aplomb, proving as easily accessible on stage as he is on film. And Oscar-winner Abraham is woefully underused in what is ultimately an inconsequential part as the one critic who doesn't seem to have an actual opinion about The Golden Egg.

Mullally, so assured in her previous stage appearances, seems lost as the ditzy first time producer. Employing a weird pigeon-toed shuffle whenever she moves across the stage, Mullally seems unsure just how dumb to make Budder, and appears self-consciously aware of how little sense her character's arc makes. As the playwright of the hour, Broderick is better than he's been in a long time, displaying genuine emotion during a climatic fight with Lane's character. Some of his line readings still feel stilted and forced, but his performance serves as a reminder of the qualities that made him a star in the first place. And saddled with the most ill-defined character of the lot, young Micah Stock struggles to find a signature characteristic to latch onto; like Mullally, Stock would have been better served by embracing his character's stupidity rather than trying to redeem or explain it.

Jack O'Brien, one of the most accomplished and versatile directors working today, fails to bring his signature energy and comedic precision to this piece. Like all of his actors, O'Brien is hamstrung by the weak material, and seems afraid to push the absurdity too far. He doesn't even make particularly good use of Scott Pask's beautiful and well designed set, which is packed with the kind of detail only a Broadway budget can sustain. Ann Roths' costumes are suitably gorgeous, although her most stand-out pieces aren't actually worn; they are the parade of coats Stock collects from unseen celebrity party guests, each one an almost perfect distillation of its owner.

Writing a negative review of It's Only a Play is difficult, because one thing the play does very well is demonstrate how much bad reviews can hurt the individuals who poured their blood, sweat, and tears into a project. So let me be clear: while this production is not the best work of anyone involved, they are all extremely talented and capable artists who have been responsible for some of the most memorable pieces of film and theatre of the past 30+ years. There is an undeniable thrill of seeing them all onstage at the same time, and while the material often lets them down there are still plenty of reminders of what formidable performers they all are. And ultimately, any review of the production is a moot point. It is already a sold out hit, and will likely continue breaking box office records until the end of its limited run in early January. But if you can't afford the $200+ tickets, there's no reason to stress. After all, it's only a play.

It's a Helluva Show

Review: On the Town

Clyde Alves, Tony Yazbeck, and Jay Armstrong Johnson lead the cast of the current Broadway revival of On the Town.

They don't make them like this anymore. Whether that is a good or a bad thing depends largely on personal taste, but either way it's hard to remember the last time Broadway birthed a musical as earnestly and innocently zany as the Bernstein-Comden-Green classic On the Town. And as the delightfully frothy revival which just opened at Broadway's newly renamed Lyric Theatre proves, there is a reason this particular brand of musical comedy reigned supreme for so long: it's just damned entertaining.

The show opens with a heartfelt rendition of the "Star Spangled Banner," played to glorious perfection by one of the largest, lushest orchestras on Broadway under the skilful baton of conductor James Moore. The lights rise on a sleepy seaside dock, and by the time Phillip Boykin finishes crooning the show's bucolic opening "I Feel Like I'm Not Out of Bed Yet," it is abundantly clear that this is one of the most lovingly rendered, celebratory revivals to grace Broadway in many years. Expertly performed and masterfully staged, On the Town is a love letter not just to the city of New York but to the Golden Age of Broadway, a show where the spectacle derives from the talent of the performers and the cleverness of the writing as opposed to elaborate production design (although Beowulf Boritt's candy colored sets and Jess Goldstein's period-perfect costumes are certainly a joy to behold).

The cast, from top to bottom, is virtually pitch perfect. Tony Yazbeck, Jay Armstrong Johnson, and Clyde Alves excel as the central trio of sailors given 24 hours shore leave, exuding an infectious camaraderie and an unabashed love for one another and the material. Yazbeck proves himself a true triple threat as romantic lead Gabey, anchoring the show with his earnestness and lending his powerful voice to some of the score's most anthemic ballads. Johnson is an unexpected delight as Chip, the most overtly comedic of the three roles, with his boyish good looks and "gee golly" charm endearing him to the audience almost instantly. And Alves holds his own as Ozzie, with a gleefully manic energy and over the top physicality that makes his big showcase "Carried Away" one of the evening's many highlights.

Matching them step for step and scene for scene are their respective love interests. Megan Fairchild, long one of New York City Ballet's most celebrated dancers, makes her Broadway debut as Ivy, and the audience is just as instantly smitten with her as Yazbeck's Gabey. Though a fine actress and singer, Fairchild was clearly cast to dance, and she does so in some of the most virtuosic solo work seen on Broadway this decade. Her second act pas de deux with Yazbeck is breathtakingly gorgeous, and throughout the evening Fairchild appears to effortlessly float across the stage despite the rigorous demands placed on her by choreographer Joshua Bergasse. Elizabeth Stanley is glorious unhinged as Claire, Ozzie's (engaged) romantic foil, and despite a uniformly strong cast, Alysha Umphress threatens to steal the show as Hildy, Chip's bold and brassy lady love.

In fact, Umphress is close to a revelation in the role, effortlessly self assured and blessed with a voice that can raise the rafters. Her introductory duet with Johnson, "Come Up to My Place," is one of the evening's most sustained feats of hilarity, aided by Johnson's game physicality and delightfully simple yet effective staging by director John Rando. And just when it looks like Umphress' best moment will be her first, she knocks the innuendo-laden "I Can Cook Too" out of the park. In fact, that number's instant reprise (a stylistic trait that has not aged particularly well) is the only one of the night that feels entirely welcome, as Umphress' high energy scatting and big money note suitably top her already sterling delivery of the song's original incarnation.

The previously mentioned Rando and Bergasse (director and choreographer, respectively) deserve special praise for the way they have effortlessly wrangled this beast of a show into an easily digestible comedic feast. Rando keeps things moving with his varied and inventive staging; for a show with comparatively few scenic elements, On the Town is always interesting to look at. And in his Broadway choreographic debut, Bergasse astounds with the sheer volume and ingenuity of his work. Whether he's having his dancers leap through the air or embody living mannequins, Bergasse's choreography is both technically impressive and delightfully whimsical. All of the stagecraft advancements of the past 30 years have yet to top the unbridled thrill of seeing a stageful of dancers jump, twist, and pirouette in unison, and Bergasse delivers such sights in spades. In a show with four full fledged ballets and numerous large production numbers, Bergasse's inventiveness never falters, and hopefully we will be seeing much, much more of his work in the future.

On the Town is undeniably old fashioned, and it does possess a few conventions that have not aged particularly well. But on the whole this revival feels as fresh and vibrant as ever, with a top tier cast and creative team who are clearly having the time of their lives. Only the most curmudgeonly of audience members would be unable to recognize and enjoy this production's many strengths, and for fans of Golden Age Broadway this revival is a dream come true. For the show's duration, any and all troubles melt away, a rare and precious gift that On the Town bestows freely, and a breath of fresh air during these increasingly troubled times.

Union vs. Non-Union Tours and Equity's Image Problem

Well, Actors' Equity just significantly raised the game in its crusade to combat non-equity tours. The union has begun the "Ask If It's Equity" campaign via social media, encouraging all potential audience members to inquire if a touring production is Equity before purchasing a ticket. And unsurprisingly, there are strong feelings about whether this is a good idea on both sides.

First, some background for those who aren't well-versed in the ins and outs of performer contracts. Actors' Equity Association is the performers' union that represents all Broadway actors, along with the actors in many Off-Broadway, regional, and touring productions. After joining the union by jumping through a convoluted and/or highly unlikely series of hoops (most performers become an Equity Membership Candidate and accrue a certain number of points before being allowed to buy into the union, although if an Equity theatre really wants someone they can pay the actor's dues for them), Equity actors gain access to a litany of special privileges including better pay, healthcare, strict limits on the amount of hours they can be worked, and perhaps most appealing of all, priority access to auditions. In return, members pay union dues every year and are forbidden from taking any non-union work; if they get caught performing without a union contract, they can be barred from the union for life, which effectively kills any Broadway or other high profile aspirations a performer might have.

Now, the way touring productions work is that touring houses will guarantee a certain level of ticket sales before booking a show at their particular venue. This allows tour producers to make informed decisions about how much money they should budget for actor salaries, costumes, sets, etc. If the theatres cannot guarantee a large amount of ticket sales, then producers are left with the option of either cancelling the show or casting it with non-union talent, which costs significantly less (there are no minimum salaries for non-union actors, and the producers don't have to pay into Equity's expensive healthcare system on behalf of each performer). Since non-union tours are cheaper to mount, more and more productions are going the non-Equity route to cut costs. As most audience members wouldn't be able to spot the difference between union and non-union talent - there is sometimes little to no difference in skill level and professionalism - the tour producers still advertise these shows as if they are direct from Broadway, even if it involves smaller sets, fewer actors, and less polish than you typically (but not always) find in Equity productions.

Unfortunately, there has been tension between union and non-union actors for almost as long as there has been a union. Equity's job is to protect its members and ensure them as many well-paying jobs as possible, which means Equity auditions are notoriously hard to get seen at if you aren't already in the union. However, the only way to actually join the union is to be cast in an Equity production, which is a huge catch-22 that is understandably frustrating to the many hardworking and talented non-union performers who wake up at the crack of dawn and wait around all day in the hopes of being seen. Also, because Broadway and all of the most respected theatre companies are Equity, many union members have developed a nasty habit of acting like they're better than their non-union counterparts. Keep in mind, every performer was non-union at some point, and we've all seen professional, Equity productions that are just as painful (if not more so) as those at the local community theatre.

To me, the biggest problem with the "Ask If It's Equity" campaign is it plays directly into that tradition of smugness when it comes to the merits of non-union performers. The question heavily implies that if the touring company is non-Equity it is automatically of a lower quality. That is by no means an accurate assumption; last winter I saw the non-union tour of Memphis and found it compared quite favorably to the original Broadway incarnation. No, it was not better or necessarily equal, but the differences were negligible to all but the most experienced theatregoers; if I had not known the production was non-Equity, I would not have been able to tell with any certainty, and I see a lot of theatre. Furthermore, the production was not on Broadway and no one was paying Broadway prices to go see it, which does make a difference as far as perceived value.

That said, I also see Equity's side of the situation and understand the concerns that are causing them to act like dicks. The non-union tours are certainly advertised as if they are straight from Broadway, which is misleading and probably allows them to charge more money for tickets than if the distinction was made clearer. As I have many friends who can verify that this extra money is not going to the performers, that trend is at best concerning and at worst exploitation. And more importantly from Equity's end, these non-union tours could theoretically be union and thereby provide work for their membership, the vast majority of whom are unemployed during any given year. If Equity can use the campaign to prove that the union status of a tour does make a difference to ticket buyers, then they will be in a better position to demand union contracts for future tours.

So what can be done about this situation? There are no easy answers, although I think the majority of the burden lies with Equity and its large member base. The reason tours go non-union is because the touring houses cannot guarantee enough money to finance an Equity production, so a show goes out non-Equity (and still makes the creators and producers money, while also giving future union members a chance to hone their craft) or it doesn't go out at all. Touring shows either need to figure out a way to make more money, or they need to use the money they already make more effectively.

The first option (make more money) can pretty much be ruled out, as most regional audiences are already spending the maximum they're willing to pay for live theatre. Raise prices any further and attendance will likely decline. A decrease in ticket prices could theoretically increase the number of tickets sold and potentially lead to more actual income, but it's a gamble I don't see any sane producing team taking. Which means the tours need to be able to make their current income go further, which may involve lowering wages (something I would not personally advocate) or alternatively relaxing some of the union's stipulations. Broadway and Equity theatres are rife with tales of frivolous personnel due to union mandated quotas, and the strict time limits on rehearsals and performances can cause overtime pay to add up in a hurry. Furthermore, I know of at least a couple of former Equity theatres who are now non-union solely because they can't afford the Equity healthcare premiums (their actors still receive a salary equivalent to the Equity minimums). Since the vast majority of Equity actors can't actually take advantage of the union's healthcare - you must be employed more weeks out of the year than not to qualify - perhaps these premiums could be lowered to help cut costs.

Even more importantly, I think Equity needs to make itself more accessible to new members. I'm sure the current Equity membership is already bristling at this idea, as there already aren't enough jobs to go around and no one wants extra competition. However, as theatre is primarily a merit based profession, if Equity performers are as good as they believe they have nothing to worry about; they will still be cast instead of the less experienced newcomers. And if more of the talented non-union performers were to join Equity, it would get much harder for producers to piece together a non-union tour audiences would be willing to pay good money for and thus force producers to offer more union work.

There are no easy solutions to this problem, but the "Ask If It's Equity" campaign still leaves plenty to be desired. There will always be more people who dream of being an actor than the profession can actually support, so no matter what Equity does to increase job opportunities for its members a large percentage of them will be unemployed at any given time. As theatre becomes more and more expensive there will be fewer audience members and fewer jobs, which only highlights the need for the industry's leaders to prioritize cost saving measures that still provide for the safety and financial viability of acting as profession. And Equity really needs to reexamine the way it behaves towards non-members; it is often despicable and elitist, especially considering everyone in the union was non-union at some point. Perhaps if they honestly asked themselves how their 22-year-old self would feel about a given policy, they wouldn't be so hasty to put their feet in their mouths and angry large swaths of the theatrical community.