A First Rate Revival of a First Rate Farce

Review: Noises Off

After seeing Noises Off, you'll never look at a plate of sardines the same way.

When is bad acting the best kind of acting? When it is intentional and pulled off with the kind of deft, reckless comic abandoned used by every single cast member in Roundabout Theatre's stellar revival of Michael Frayn's farcical masterpiece, Noises Off. The belly laughs come early and often in this dizzying comic tour de force, which marks not just the first Broadway show of 2016 but also the first great one.

Heralded since its 1983 premiere as one of the all time great theatrical comedies, Noises Off milks its many laughs out of an exceedingly simple premise. A troupe of actors is desperately trying to mount a production of the fictional sex farce Nothing On, a terrible play being done terribly by the ill-equipped actors. Noises Off is broken up into three acts, each set at a different point in the show's run: Act I details the show's disastrous technical rehearsal, Act II moves the action backstage during a performance midway through the show's run, and Act III comes back in front of the curtain to show just how much the show has fallen apart by the end of its run. All of this is enacted by a wonderfully eccentric cast of characters who are concurrently sorting out multiple backstage romances, none of which seem to be going particularly well.

It must be said that even 30 years later Frayn's writing remains a marvel of economy and subtle exposition. As Noises Off primarily deals with how poorly the play-within-a-play is going, there's little time for fleshing out the actors performing it, and yet Frayn manages to pepper the dialogue with enough organic references to their offstage lives that everyone comes across as a person rather than a caricature. The show's first act is funny enough on its own that you don't realize how much expository groundwork it's laying. The repetition of scenes from Nothing On (necessitated by multiple missed cues during the play's tech rehearsal) allows you to follow what's happening in Acts II and III, where the same portion of the fictional comedy is viewed from backstage and from the audience during completely botched performances, yet you don't even realize that's what Frayn's doing until long after the final curtain has literally fallen. The only real knock against the writing is that the playwright fails to follow up on the bombshell revelation at the end of Act II, but at the same time the fact Frayn leaves certain details offstage details to the imagination is part of the appeal.

Of course no matter how strong a script is, you still need a cast and creative team capable of executing it, and that is where this revival truly shines. As the saying goes, "Dying is easy; comedy is hard," and nowhere is that more apparent than in the carefully plotted madness of Noises Off. The play relies on everything going wrong in such a specific fashion that one misstep would derail the entire enterprise, and yet for it to remain funny you cannot see the work or be aware you're being set up for a punchline. Director Jeremy Herrin nails this aspect, carefully crafting each moment of stage time so you can follow both the plot of the play-within-a-play and the behind the scenes shenanigans with ease. He keeps the pacing tight and the comedy heightened yet real; none of the characters have any idea they're being funny, which makes their hapless misadventures all the more hilarious.

Herrin has also assembled one of the hardest working casts in the industry, a true ensemble where every member is working together towards the larger goal. Part of what makes the sparsity of character development work is this cast's ability to fill in the blanks with their mannerisms, and at any moment you can watch anyone onstage and see a fully committed and often deeply hilarious performance. The specificity of the character choices is astounding, as is the varied and delightful ways they interact with one another. It helps that everyone has impeccable comic timing and a major affinity for physical comedy, from prat falls to slap fights to a tumble down the stairs executed with near balletic grace. The actors' physicality comes to a head during the showstopping backstage pantomime that makes up the majority of Act II, a sequence so packed with comic genius it could be watched half a dozen times and reveal entirely new layers of brilliance each time.

Andrea Martin is excellent as the company's resident (and fading) diva, who slowly but surely comes to realize she's in way over her head. Famed comedienne Martin is essentially playing the straight woman, which anyone who works in comedy will tell you is the hardest role to make work, a change of pace she expertly handles while remaining her unimpeachably hilarious self. Jeremy Shamos is side-splittingly funny as an actor who can't stand the sight of violence and just wants to know his motivation, getting funnier and funnier as his character becomes more and more bedraggled. Kate Jennings Grant is immensely appealing as the company's most competent actor and resident gossip monger, and has perhaps the play's single greatest bit of physical comedy as she *slowly* slinks across the floor midperformance to "unobtrusively" remove an errant plate of sardines from the set. Campbell Scott is delightfully explosive as the cantankerous director trying to corral this hapless troupe of actors, and both Tracee Chimo and Rob McClure provide fine support as the production's stage manager and resident technician/understudy, respectively. David Furr kills as the fading marquee idol seemingly incapable of finishing his sentences, and as the resident drunk Daniel Davis is great fun.

But the true standout of the show (quite the accomplishment in a cast this talented) is Megan Hilty as the blonde bombshell who spends the majority of the play in sexy lingerie. Hilty is one of the best bad actresses you are likely to ever see, and her every second of stage time is a multi-faceted masterclass in comic business. Hilty never upstages her cohorts, but when it's her time to shine she takes the moment and runs with it, like her tear-inducingly awkward crawl down the staircase while searching for her missing contact. Whether she's practicing her meditation, silently mouthing the other actors' lines, or flailing her arms in mock panic, Hilty is a comedic knockout.

Really, the only thing wrong with Noises Off is that it's a limited run production, meaning we only have another month to savor this sublime production. The entire hilarious cast will soon have to clear out of the American Airlines Theatre to make way for a very different type of classic (Roundabout's upcoming revival of Long Day's Journey Into Night), so I beg you to brave the cold and catch this production while you can. It's the perfect antidote to the winter doldrums, and proof positive that comedy can be every bit as artistically rewarding as drama.

When You Say Vegas, You're Saying Laughs

Review: Honeymoon in Vegas

Tony Danza (left) and Rob McClure (right) ham it up in the hysterical new comedy Honeymoon in Vegas.

If there was a Tony Award for most versatile composer, Jason Robert Brown (who already has 3 of the gold statuettes) would certainly be a prime candidate. Brown's bouncy songs for the frothy, tuneful Honeymoon in Vegas couldn't be further removed from the rapturous, nearly operatic score he composed for The Bridges of Madison County just one year ago. Like Bridges, his latest show is not entirely free from flaws, but those problems are miniscule compared to everything this slickly produced and highly entertaining comedy gets right. Honeymoon is the most purely entertaining new musical of the season, and represents yet another high point in Brown's ever expanding songbook.

The show concerns Jack Singer, an everyday Brooklynite with serious commitment issues. Although Jack dearly loves his longtime girlfriend Betsy, a deathbed promise to his departed mother causes him to choke every time he contemplates popping the big question. He finally works up the nerve to take her to Las Vegas to elope, but things go awry when an unscrupulous gambler by the name of Tommy Korman decides he must have Betsy for himself (as she is a dead ringer for Tommy's deceased wife). What follows is a madcap adventure that takes everyone from the Vegas Strip to the beaches of Hawaii and back over the course of one zany weekend, with plenty of musical comedy shenanigans along the way.

Brown has been duly praised over the course of his career, and his work here again asserts his position as one of the most versatile, accomplished composers working in the theatre today. Brown combines infectious melodies and toe tapping vamps with playfully inventive lyrics that are witty without feeling forced; even the ever-exacting Sondheim would surely be delighted with the rhyming of "Beyoncé" and "fiancé." The songs walk the fine line between sounding familiar and still offering sonic surprises, and everything has been arranged by Brown and his co-orchestrators Don Sebesky, Larry Blank, and Charlie Rosen to evoke the big brassy musicals of yesteryear. While a couple of songs overstay their welcome, the vast majority are so delightful you'll actually find yourself wishing for full fledged reprises rather than the melodic motifs Brown favors here. If there's one major knock against the score, it's that the songs are so well integrated into the plot that it prohibits any true showstoppers from emerging.

Speaking of plotting, librettist Andrew Bergman has done a smashing job of adapting his own screenplay for the stage. Although certain developments are a little too clearly telegraphed, the book scenes in large part avoid the inauthenticity that plagues so many musical comedies. The songs are the clear highlight, but the book scenes hold your interest because they handle character and plot development in a way that is virtually seamless.

Unfortunately for the show, some of Brown and Bergman's sterling work is obscured by Gary Griffin's overly busy direction. Certain jokes get lost thanks to unnecessarily distracting staging, which renders numbers like the opening "I Love Betsy" less humorous than they could be. There are also certain physical conventions that are only haphazardly employed, which again confuses things in this very tightly written and plotted show. One glaring example is "Forever Starts Tonight," which sees Tommy inexplicably interacting with Jack and Betsy while they steadfastly ignore his presence. Griffin probably means for Tommy to be in a separate location, but having him move between the two and even touch them (on a bare stage) makes the distinction harder to grasp. First time choreographer Denis Jones' work is also underwhelming, although part of his problem stems from trying to shoehorn a traditional ensemble into songs that don't really require them outside of backing harmonies.

In the central role of Jack, Tony-nominee Rob McClure does exceptional work. McClure has an appealing everyman quality with just enough neurosis to keep him interesting, and his delivery of Brown's lyrics is as natural and effortless as breathing. McClure's incredibly expressive face speaks volumes, and the young actor has a clear gift for musical comedy that he smartly deploys throughout the evening. Television icon Tony Danza is surprisingly effective as McClure's romantic rival Tommy, with a pleasant singing voice and an easy-going persona that belies the nefarious means he'll use to get what he wants. Danza can seem stiff at times, but overall he gives a charmingly accomplished performance.

As the much desired and put upon Betsy, Brynn O'Malley is something close to a revelation. O'Malley takes a character that could have been quite boring and makes her the most interesting and human person onstage, in a brilliantly naturalistic turn that has just enough comedic bite to withstand the tomfoolery going on around her. Equally adept at heartfelt ballads and more comedic uptempos, O'Malley also has a subtly hilarious, entirely wordless cameo as Tommy's long-dead wife during the song "Out of the Sun." The only thing that could possibly improve O'Malley's performance is if Brown had written her the showstopper she so clearly deserves. The extremely catchy "Betsy's Getting Married" comes *this close* to being such a number, but unfortunately for O'Malley the song morphs into a musical scene between Jack and Tommy just when she's poised to kick the song into high gear.

The entire enterprise is slickly designed and lovingly realized, with the saturated colors and slightly exaggerated geometry of Anna Louizos' set selling the fantasy of Honeymoon's versions of Vegas, New York, and Hawaii. Louizos also makes excellent use of projections to seamlessly enhance her sets in a way that is almost unnoticeable (and more importantly, doesn't replace physical set pieces). Brian Hemesath's costumes encompass everything from track suits to feathered headdresses, all rendered in eye-popping colors that perfectly compliment the show's heightened tone. The show is always a joy to look at, successfully combining a modern Broadway aesthetic with an old school sensibility.

In fact, that duality best sums up Honeymoon in Vegas. It seamlessly combines the best traits of Golden Age musical comedies and more contemporary works, bolstered by yet another outstanding score from the multi-talented Jason Robert Brown. Overflowing with wit and warmth, the production is occasionally hindered by Gary Griffin's overreliance on bells and whistles, but the show's big beaming heart shines through regardless. Rob McClure proves that his excellent work in the ill-fated Chaplin was not a fluke, and Brynn O'Malley emerges as a musical comedy force to be reckoned with. Honeymoon is one of the safest bets you can currently make on Broadway, a guaranteed good time that deserves a wider audience.

Movie Magic, Lost in Translation

Review:  Chaplin

Rob McClure, refusing to let subpar material ruin his big break on Broadway.

 

You want to like Chaplin, the new musical by composer/lyricist Christopher Curtis and bookwriter Thomas Meehan that’s currently playing the Barrymore Theatre.  The life of silent film star Charlie Chaplin certainly features enough drama to sustain a full-length musical, and the show benefits from several strong performances by a mix of Broadway veterans and relative newcomers.  Unfortunately, an abundance of structural missteps and ill-advised story tangents prevent the show from achieving its full potential, and the resulting work is a frustratingly muddled mess of unfulfilled promise.

Obviously, dramatizing anyone’s life brings with it inherent problems, as real life seldom occurs in steadily rising dramatic action that leads to a clean and tidy end.  Like many showbiz stories, Chaplin does a reasonably good job of chronicling Chaplin’s rise to fame in turn of the century Hollywood, utilizing his troubled relationship with his mentally-ill mother to provide dramatic tension during his virtually unencumbered ascension to superstardom.  But the second act, which chronicles Chaplin’s tumultuous personal life and eventual fall from grace, feels unfocused and haphazard.  In Meehan and Curtis’ libretto, one scene rarely flows smoothly into the next, and coherent character motivations are practically nonexistent.

The show also suffers from an uncertain tone, unsuccessfully attempting to split the difference between low comedy and high drama.  Even the relatively conflict-free first act fails to create many laughs, a sin that seems almost unforgivable in a show whose central figure is one of the all-time masters of slapstick.  Things are generally played straight and very serious, but the authors stop themselves from fully committing to the inherent drama of Chaplin’s life by glossing over its more unpleasant aspects.  The star’s multiple marriages to underage woman aren’t explored in any detail, and his demanding and somewhat unethical directorial methods are given only a cursory mention.  Even Chaplin’s relationship with his mother seems underdeveloped, as he spends a majority of the show avoiding her and we are mostly told rather than shown that her condition is getting worse.

Christopher Curtis’ score also underwhelms, with his sometimes interesting melodic ideas rarely coalescing into fully formed songs.  The only piece of music that feels complete is the jazzy “All Falls Down,” written for a vindictive gossip columnist named Hedda Hopper who has made it her life’s mission to ruin Chaplin’s good name.  And even that song is difficult to enjoy because it comes out of nowhere, forcing the audience to spend much of its duration wondering why a woman who has never even met Chaplin suddenly hates him so much (it apparently has something to do with his refusal to grant her an interview).

Yet the hardworking cast takes this subpar material and performs it with such earnestness and conviction that they almost succeed in making it sing.  In the title role, Rob McClure gives such a tour de force performance that you don’t question for a second why the producers entrusted an unknown with such an enormous part.  McClure has clearly spent hours researching the Little Tramp and perfecting his mannerisms, which pays off in his expert handling of the large amounts of physical comedy and recreation of some of Chaplin’s most famous bits.  He performs all of his numbers with gusto, and imbues the eleven o’clock ballad “Where Are All the People?” with a dramatic weight it honestly doesn’t deserve (like “All Falls Down,” the song comes out of nowhere).  McClure paints as complete a picture of Chaplin as the material will allow, and uses his buoyant, assured performance to cover up many of the writing’s flaws.

Past Tony-nominee Christiane Noll does well with the underwritten role of Chaplin’s mother, cramming one of the biggest character arcs of the night into her limited stage time.  Jenn Colella’s hardboiled Hedda Harper is such a strong presence you end up wishing there was more of her, which would have the added benefit of fleshing out one of the story’s key conflicts.  And as Oona O’Neil, Chaplin’s fourth and final wife, Erin Mackey imbues her character with enough charm and quiet strength that you can almost forgive the fact that she doesn’t appear until midway through Act II, despite being the show’s primary love interest.

Finally, special mention must be made of Zachary Unger, the child actor who plays the young Charlie Chaplin.  Displaying a startling amount of maturity and emotional honesty, Unger could give many adult actors lessons in sincerity.  When he breaks into tears as Chaplin’s mother is taken away to the mental hospital, he’s so convincing you want to run onstage and give him an enormous hug.  (The fact that Unger is cute as a button doesn’t hurt, either.)

From a production standpoint, director/choreographer Warren Carlyle does a serviceable job, although you get the impression that his desire for more dancing hinders the show more than it helps.  Particularly egregious is Carlyle’s decision to end Act I with a chorus of dancing Chaplin lookalikes, a decision so out of left field that the audience will spend most of intermission wondering what he was thinking.  The design team’s creative conceit to construct the sets and costumes using only shades of black and white is a neat idea that isn’t fully realized, and results in the show appearing too dark on more than one occasion.  Meanwhile, the ten person orchestra is in desperate need of a few extra players to provide the show with a richer and fuller sound.

Thanks to the hardworking cast, Chaplin has all-too-brief moments of entertainment and genuine dramatic interest.  Because the performers are so good, you really wish the musical they appear in gave them better material to work with.  The idea of a show about Charlie Chaplin remains an intriguing notion, and one hopes that eventually a great version of the story makes its way to Broadway.  For now, we will have to settle for this half-baked concoction instead.