This Diva Needs Her Stage, Small Though It May Be

Review: Shows for Days

Caught with his cell phone out during the show, Michael Urie is forced to hide from Patti LuPone's wrath.

Douglas Carter Beane must be quite the charmer. Despite a tenuous grasp of cohesive storytelling technique, the playwright and musical librettist not only continually convinces producers to mount his often undercooked shows, but he also manages to attract some of the industry's top talent to perform it. Beane's last play The Nance starred no less than the great Nathan Lane, and his latest work Shows for Days has the distinction of featuring two-time Tony-winner Patti LuPone in one of the central roles. LuPone does heroic work in a play that doesn't really merit her many talents, even if individual scenes in the piece prove to be side-splittingly hilarious.

This semi-autobiographical comedy about Beane's early days in the theatre follows Car, the idealized author stand-in who stumbles across a small community theatre troupe in Reading, Pennsylvania during the summer of 1973. Initially volunteering as a set painter to kill time, 14-year-old Car finds himself entranced by the allure of this tight-knit group of misfits led by the firebrand producer/director/actress Irene. Irene dreams of a permanent, legitimate theatre company to rival any of the town's established troupes, using her outsized personality to cajole, convince, or outright threaten the city into supporting her cause with funds and free performance space. Car soon becomes a valuable member of the group, eventually commissioned to write their first original play all while trying to find an escape from the small town life that has left him feeling trapped.

John Lee Beatty's set cleverly mimics the organized chaos of any low-budget performance space, with colored tape indicating the outlines of the play's many different settings (this will be instantly familiar to anyone who has ever set foot inside a rehearsal studio). Beane and director Jerry Zaks also use the charming conceit of Car literally setting the stage as he narrates his life, moving chairs, tables, and other pieces of furniture to their various locations as the action shifts from place to place. It all evokes a warm nostalgia for the simplicity of small scale theatre, and reminds you of the magic that can be achieved by a group of actors fully committed to doing their best with whatever is onhand.

Unfortunately, Beane's script is the opposite of simple, so overstuffed with sitcom-style zingers that the intricacies of the plot get lost amid the quest for laughs. While portions of the script are admittedly very funny, all of playwright's dialogue smacks of a need to demonstrate the breadth of his theatrical knowledge and wit. It's acceptable and even admirable to expect your audience to keep pace with your rapid-fire references (Something Rotten is grossing a million dollars a week using precisely that brand of humor), but Beane's writing tries a little too hard to call attention to how clever he's being, with a vague air of judgment should you be unable to keep up. Beane and Zaks also appear uncomfortable with any moment of genuine emotion, bulldozing over the play's more serious beats in a breakneck race towards the next punchline.

As Car, Michael Urie is in no way a convincing teenager (something both the actor and the script acknowledge early on), but he brings an impish, innocent quality to his performance that is innately appealing despite its lack of depth. Urie embodies the play's more negative aspects by shamelessly mugging throughout, even during the few times when Car is required to show some genuine anguish. The actor's undisputable good looks also undermine a key subplot where the object of Car's first crush specifically rejects him for being sexually undesirable, which in a play with so much metahumor registers as a joke until you realize that is actually the root of the pair's relationship issues.

While Urie may be the nominal lead, LuPone is the unquestioned star of the show. Yes, casting the famously temperamental LuPone as an outsized theatrical diva is an obvious choice, but the genius of her performance is she manages to simultaneously surprise while also giving you exactly what you expect. She chews the scenery while delivering many of the play's best lines, highlighting her top notch comic timing in an effortlessly hilarious performance. Yet unlike Urie, LuPone remembers to create a real person underneath Irene's over the top exterior, and when the script presents her with the opportunity to let us see behind that bravura façade she brilliantly capitalizes on it. The few times Irene's shell cracks and we glimpse the wounded woman underneath not only showcase LuPone's versatility, but also ground Irene as recognizably human and someone worth rooting for.

The rest of the cast offers solid support to the two leads, although the script doesn't provide them with much more than broadly drawn outlines. Dale Soules as the lesbian stage manager Sid is the most multi-dimensional, although her more understated moments get lost among the overt hamminess of Urie's mugging. Jordan Dean plays the dumb pretty boy very well, and Zoe Winters is suitably high strung as the needy actress Maria. Understudy Lance Roberts went on in the role of the troupe's gay leading man Clive at the performance I saw, and did a fine job despite the fact that Beane has written him as a caricature rather than an actual human.

Ultimately, Shows for Days proves to be an enjoyable if slightly frustrating experience as LuPone and company struggle to find the right balance between the play's farcical leanings and its brief flirtations with more dramatic material. Playwright Beane's insistence on making almost every line a laugh line proves exhausting for both the cast and the audience, a relentlessness that is only highlighted by Zaks' by the numbers staging. Yet Beane has an obvious and sincere affection for both this period of his life and small-scale theatre in general, lending the play just enough emotional honesty that it cannot be dismissed completely out of hand. Patti LuPone once again proves she is a theatrical force to be reckoned with, and if nothing else, Shows provides its audience with the chance to watch this legendary diva work her magic.

Shocking, Profane, and Just What Broadway Needs?

Review: Hand to God

Steven Boyer as Jason (l) and Tyrone (r), the stars of the provocative new play Hand to God.

There's been little on contemporary Broadway to prepare audiences for the pitch black comedy Hand to God, a provocative indictment of religion and faith currently drawing both hearty guffaws and shocked gasps at the Booth Theatre. Sure, Avenue Q tackled the "foul mouthed puppets" schtick first, but despite that Tony-winning musical's abundance of four letter words its characters lacked the viciousness and anger of Tyrone, the profanity prone sock puppet at this play's center. Written by Broadway newcomer Robert Askins, Hand to God is one of the most brazen, boundary pushing, and thoroughly unpredictable new works to grace the Great White Way in some time. These characteristics prove to be both assets and weaknesses during the show's lighting fast two hour runtime, and even if you don't agree with or even like the play, you certainly can't accuse Askins and company of playing it safe.

Set in the small town of Cypress, Texas (Askins' actual hometown), Hand to God introduces us to Jason, a shy and awkward young man who has been coerced by his mother Margery into joining her Christian Puppet Ministry. Puppet practice seems to be one of the few things that brings Jason anything resembling joy, as he struggles with his awkwardness around girls, the school bully, and a very complicated relationship with his recently widowed mother. Unfortunately for Jason, his hand puppet Tyrone seems to have taken on a mind of its own, providing withering critiques of everyone in Jason's life via hilariously caustic one liners. Soon it becomes clear that Tyrone has gotten out of hand (sorry, I had to), and by intermission it's already apparent there is no line Hand to God is unwilling to cross.

Once Askins' script gets going, there's no stopping it. Events quickly spiral beyond any semblance of control, making for a thrilling roller coaster ride of a play that will quickly take you from being doubled over in laughter to physically cringing at the thought of what might happen next. There is nothing pretentious or artificial about Askins' dialogue, which perfectly captures the play's small town milieu and lends the show's characters an authenticity without which the entire enterprise would crumble. (Praise be to vocal coach Ellen Lettrich for creating one of the most convincing southern drawls this Georgia transplant has ever heard on the New York stage.)

Askins makes a lot of smart observation about human behavior and how the concepts of good and evil function in our society. Unfortunately, he bites off a bit more than he can chew, particularly when it comes to Jason's mother. Margery enters into an incredibly violent sexual relationship that has the outward appearance of rape, except no one including Margery seems all too concerned about what that suggests. If this had been a one time occurrence it would still be troubling but perhaps understandable from a playwriting perspective; however, there are two separate and lengthy instances of this not-rape, the consequences of which are never adequately addressed. They seem included solely for shock value, which is particularly disheartening when contrasted with how Tyrone's discomforting tirades force you to re-examine your own assumptions in order to understand where the play is coming from.

On a less unsettling note, the play is incredibly well acted, especially the jaw-dropping fluidity with which Steven Boyer simultaneously portrays the meek Jason and strong willed Tyrone. Boyer's mastery of his own body is so complete and specific that Jason and Tyrone truly feel like separate entities. The contrast between Jason's hunched over, closed off body language and Tyrone's upright fury while railing against his host is mind boggling, and several of the play's best scenes take place entirely between Jason and Tyrone. Boyer's commitment to his dual roles and expert puppeteering mean you must constantly remind yourself that Tyrone is not a living, breathing being. The inventive ways Boyer has Tyrone interact with the environment and other characters are both a joy to watch and absolutely terrifying (at one point, Boyer finds a way to convincingly throw himself across the room by having Tyrone hoist Jason up by his shirt collar). Boyer's is the type of performance that will be talked about for years to come, and is reason enough to justify the price of a ticket.

Geneva Carr does very strong work as Margery and almost manages to make the aforementioned rape scenes work. She provides a very compelling and believable portrait of a basically good woman handling life's trials very poorly (there is no Mother of the Year award in Margery's future), and through it all her very real yet strained love of Jason provides the play with its emotional core. Marc Kudish is in fine form in the mostly reactionary role of Pastor Greg, and Michael Oberholtzer is perfectly cast as the town bully/troubled youth Timothy. And Sarah Stiles miraculously finds a new take on the "girl next door" archetype that feels both fresh and truthful.

Beowulf Boritt's set is perfection down to the smallest detail. Everything from the specific type of plastic chair to the cloying motivational posters on the wall to the specific shade of blue-gray paint haphazardly applied over brick and mortar screams small town church, and Boritt makes clever use of rotating walls to reveal the play's other mundane but no less evocative locales. As with most contemporary-set plays, Sydney Maresca's costumes and Jason Lyons' lights don't really get the chance to go beyond their most basic functions, but both designs are still well executed and serve the piece well. Everything is competently directed by Moritz von Stuelpnagel, who smartly lets Askins' script and Boyers' performance do most of the heavy lifting.

Those who are easily offended or don't like to be challenged by their entertainment should stay far away from Hand to God, which pulls no punches over the course of its pulse-pounding two hours. But if you're willing to be challenged or just appreciate boundary-pushing new works, the show offers plenty of food for thought. Quite frankly, Broadway could stand more shows like Hand To God, which proudly wears its lack of name talent and American origin as a badge of honor in a market flooded with star-studded revivals and London imports. You may not agree with everything the show has to say, but it is a breath of fresh air to find a Broadway show with the ambition and confidence to make such statements to begin with.

The Worst Shows of 2014

In addition to my annual Best Shows features, it is also a tradition here at Broadway, Etc. to make a list of the worst theatrical offerings of any given year. I must admit, the article is a bit late this year as I debated whether or not to even publish a Worst of 2014 list. I have lately come to feel there is a lot of unwarranted negativity among the industry and less support than there should be for the incredibly hard task of mounting a show, especially a new work. But ultimately, I decided that if my blog is retain any legitimacy as a platform for reviews, I need to be able to point out the bad along with the good (if all my reviews are rave reviews, they don't really mean much).

And with that preface, here are the 5 least enjoyable experiences I had last year.

5) Bullets Over Broadway

Looks like a charming, old fashioned musical comedy, right? Unfortunately for us, looks can be deceiving.

Susan Stroman, a director/choreographer I have the utmost respect for, had a rough 2013-2014 season. While she had the honor of helming two big budget, highly anticipated new musicals, both productions failed to impress critics and shuttered within a few months of opening. But whereas I really enjoyed her Big Fish despite its flaws, there are few saving graces to her misguided collaboration with Woody Allen, Bullets Over Broadway. Allen's particular brand of comedy is very specific and intimate, making it perfectly suited for film but a poor fit for the Broadway stage. His script for Bullets fell flat, with the premise (backstage shenanigans in the 1920s) promising far more laughs than the show actually delivered. Stroman's direction felt frantic, perhaps in an attempt to provide the laughs Allen and the show's period score failed to deliver. The decision to us pre-existing songs also limited the show's potential, forcing the pair to awkwardly shoehorn musical numbers into the book scenes. The entire cast struggled to find their footing, and although many called out Marin Mazzie for grandstanding as the show-within-a-show's booze addled diva, at least she provided some much needed life to an otherwise dull affair. By the time the literally bananas finale rolled around, both the cast and the audience seemed visibly relieved the entire affair was over.

4) Les Miserables

The fresh faced cast of Les Miserables is certainly excited to be there, but even their enthusiasm can't breathe life into this ponderous, too-soon revival.

For all its 80s bombast, I've always had a soft spot for Les Miserables, perhaps because the original production was my first ever Broadway show. So while I felt it was far too soon for another Broadway revival, given the 2006 production and the very successful film version, I went into the Imperial Theatre excited to see what a reimagined Les Miz might look like. Unfortunately, this current production highlights all of the show's flaws (thin writing, cheaply emotional power ballads, an overlong length) and none of its strengths (a genuinely touching story of redemption, a richly melodic sung-through score). Many actors are obviously miscast and/or misdirected, with normally reliable performers like Will Swenson and Nikki M. James delivering work far below their usual high standard. That said, credit must be given where credit is due: Ramin Karimloo is a superb Jean Valjean, and his spine-tingling delivery of the iconic "Bring Him Home" is one of the vocal highlights of the season. Too bad the rest of the production wasn't up to Karimloo's high level.
 

3) Rocky

Andy Karl and the cast of Rocky perform "Eye of the Tiger." When the most memorable song in your musical is something you didn't even write, you might have a problem.

When first presented with the idea of a Broadway musical based on the Oscar-winning film Rocky, most people were sceptical. But the involvement of Tony-winning songwriters Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens, whose Ragtime is one of the single greatest achievements in musical theatre writing ever, not to mention rising star director Alex Timbers piqued everyone's curiosity and convinced many that Rocky just might work onstage. As it turns out, our gut instincts were the right ones, with the resulting show failing in just about every conceivable way despite the talent involved. The primary problem seems to be one of tone, with Flaherty & Ahrens believing the working class Rocky Balboa and his friends merited small, intimate writing while Timbers insisted on a gargantuan physical production that often drowned out the storytelling happening onstage. The final 20 minute boxing match, which moved the audience onstage and the action into the audience, was indeed an eye popping spectacle, but by that point the damage had already been done by 2 hours of questionable character motivations and non-existent drama. One of the year's biggest disappointments.

2) 50 Shades! - The Musical

Eye candy is about all 50 Shades! - The Musical has going for it.

Given the popularity and absurdity of the bestselling novel/Twilight erotica 50 Shades of Grey, it was only a matter of time before someone developed a tongue in cheek musical spoof. No one expects a show like 50 Shades! - The Musical to be high art, but I was expecting something a fair bit better than the travesty currently playing at Off-Broadway's Elektra Theatre. Even at a mere sixty minutes, 50 Shades! feels like an eternity, with the show lasting far beyond the writers' ability to sustain their already thin premise. The songs are blandly forgettable and the direction overly simplistic, leaving the fresh faced cast with nothing to hold onto as they try to find some redeeming quality in this variety sketch the miraculously managed to score a full production. I have never been so close to leaving a show at intermission (yes, even though the show is only an hour long the producers felt the need to prolong the agony by still including an intermission). To be fair, the numerous groups of women in the audience seemed to be having a grand old time, although I suspect that had more to do with their heavy alcohol consumption than it did with the quality of the production.

1) Mothers and Sons

During the BC/EFA collection speech during curtain call, Bobby Steggert (left) promised the highest bidder a four person re-enactment of the Tyne Daly (right) Gypsy. That would have been *infinitely* more entertaining than the preceding 90 minutes.

Many critics considered Terrance McNally's Mothers and Sons one of the spring season's highlights, and it even managed to snag a much coveted Best Play Tony nomination despite a fair bit of competition. I don't know what show those people saw, but the ponderous "drama" I saw last March at the Golden Theatre committed so many dramaturgical sins it's difficult to know where to begin. McNally's unsuccessful attempt to tackle every aspect of the modern gay male's life (marriage equality, familial acceptance, child rearing, the still relevant threat of AIDS, etc.) in the span of ninety minutes led to characters who were mere mouthpieces rather than three dimensional human beings. McNally didn't even have the sense to make them consistent mouthpieces, with characters adopting wildly different and at times diametrically opposed views from moment to moment to keep the heavy-handed lecture going, even though the play's short length prohibited any meaningful discussion of the many loaded and multifaceted issues that arose. Even more shocking is how poorly the show was acted, with the much lauded Tyne Daly turning in a performance that was stiff, wooden, and anything put believable (not that McNally's thin writing did her any favors). Everyone involved is capable of much better, and Mothers and Sons is easily the worst show I had the misfortune of encountering this past year.


And there you have it; the 5 shows with the dubious honor of being the least enjoyable productions of 2014. In an ideal world, I won't have anything to put on this list for 2015. That probably won't be the case, but one can always dream.

Happy New Year everybody!

The Best Shows of 2014: Part I

As 2014 draws to a close and the internet is inundated with "Best of the Year" lists, its time to add my humble voice to the cacophony with my annual "Best Shows of the Year" list. For those of you not familiar with how this list works, know that it is not meant to be a comprehensive or definitive list. It is limited to productions I have actually seen, so certain popular shows will be omitted. I have yet to see Beautiful, for instance, although all of the promotional performances make me think it wouldn't make my personal list anyway.

2014 was an interesting year for New York theatre. There were a lot of show I liked, but less I unabashedly loved than in 2013. There was still plenty of commendable work throughout the year, and part of the reason fewer shows felt like unqualified successes is because they tackled less conventional subject matter and storytelling methods (which I'll take over a safe, traditional production any day of the week). Below is the first half of my annual Top 10, with the remainder of the list to follow soon. 

Honorable Mention: Audra McDonald in Lady Day at Emerson's Bar and Grill

Audra McDonald truly disappeared into the role of jazz singer Billie Holiday, winning the acclaimed actress a well deserved and record breaking sixth Tony Award.

Lady Day at Emerson's Bar and Grill, Lanie Robertson's exploration of famed jazz singer Billie Holiday's life and career, is not a great play. The show is interesting because Holiday's life was interesting, but nothing about the play's writing contributes to more than a cursory understanding of the troubled vocalist's final days, performing in obscurity at rundown clubs. That said, Audra McDonald was a revelation in the work's recent Broadway revival, an utterly transformative performance that deservedly won the acclaimed actress her record breaking 6th Tony Award. As usual, McDonald somehow managed to exceed overwhelmingly high expectations to deliver a performance for the ages, one of the single best of I have ever seen. While the show's pedestrian writing keeps it from being Top Ten material, McDonald's performance was one of the most nuanced and entrancing of the year, and deserving of mention.

10) Pageant

The beautiful contestants of the Miss Galmouresse pageant at the center of Pageant.

In the pursuit of high art and a better understanding of the human condition, it can sometimes be easy to forget that theatre is primarily a form of entertainment. The Off-Broadway review Pageant, about a fictional beauty contest where all of the contestants are men dressed in drag, may not have been the most intellectual of evenings, but it was one of the most enjoyable 90 minutes I spent in a theatre last year. The extremely talented and versatile performers milked every bit of campy humor possible out of the premise, somehow making a spoof of beauty pageants feel relevant even when the format is long past its prime. The loose structure allowed the contestants plenty of chances to ham it up, but beneath all the shtick and broad caricatures they remained recognizably human, which only added to the show's appeal. Definitely an underrated gem of the summer/fall months.

9) If/Then

While there were plenty of strong performances in If/Then, let's be honest: Idina Menzel is the reason people are interested in this show, and the Tony winner delivers with what may be the performance of her career.

I can't understand why If/Then has gotten so much flack from the theatrical community. While the show is by no means perfect, it is one of the increasingly rare musicals not based on any pre-existing property that furthermore dares to ask big questions about life (as opposed to most of the successful musicals of the past few seasons, which are primarily meant to entertain). Perhaps the show suffered in comparison to Next to Normal, the groundbreaking Pulitzer Prize winner by the same creative team. And while If/Then doesn't match that show's emotional wallop, the concurrent narratives of Liz and Beth raise a lot of interesting questions about choice versus fate. Idina Menzel has never been better, easily topping her Tony-winning work in the megamusical Wicked 10 years ago and proving that she is one of the most formidable singing-actresses of her generation. The show's sagging box office numbers and Menzel's impending departure probably mean this show is on its last legs, so everyone who claims to support originality in the theatre really owes it to themselves to see this thought provoking new work before its gone. It may be flawed, but its heart is 110% in the right place, and I will take an ambitiously flawed show over a safely conventional one any day of the week.

8) Heathers

Off Broadway's New World Stages is generally where older shows go to extend their runs, but occasional the complex will birth exciting new works like the hilarious and inventive Heathers the Musial.

A darkly comic coming of age tale set in perhaps the worst high school of all time, Heathers proved to be a highlight of the crowded spring theatre season. Featuring a top notch score by Laurence O'Keefe and Kevin Murphy ("Candy Store" is one of the catchiest musical numbers of the year), Heathers' endlessly inventive writing was brought to life by an excellent cast of mostly unknowns. A vast improvement upon the film that inspired it, the musical managed to resolve most of the tonal issues that plague the source material without losing the story's edge, and somehow uncovered an emotional core underneath all the 80s slang and teen melodrama. Although the Off-Broadway production has long since shuttered, the show is already well on its way to achieving the kind of cult status shows like Rocky Horror and Reefer Madness enjoy.

7) Aladdin

Courtney Reed and Adam Jacobs appear to have literally leapt off the screen in Disney's Aladdin, one of the most sumptuous spectacles to grace Broadway this year.

20 years after Beauty and the Beast, Disney Theatricals finally got around to tackling the last major film from the company's early 90s animation renaissance, the Oscar winning 1992 comedy Aladdin. Recovering nicely from their last animated adaptation (the less than successful Little Mermaid), the company brought their trademark high production values and slick presentation to this story of a street rat who dreams of something more. Featuring a game cast (lead by James Monroe Inglehart's Tony-winning Genie) and fantastic direction/choreography by Casey Nicholaw, Aladdin is one of the most magically entertaining shows currently running on Broadway. Genuine showstopper "Friend Like Me" is one of the most elaborate, thrilling production numbers around, and the famed magic carpet ride is every bit as magical onstage as it was on film. An excellent option for families and the young at heart, tickets have been hard to come by, but are definitely worth the effort.
 

6) Much Ado About Nothing

Recovering from an uneven couple of years, the Public Theatre's Shakespeare in the Park presented a top notch (and free!) production of Much Ado About Nothing this past summer.

After a couple of less than stellar seasons (2012's Into the Woods was divisive to say the least, and 2013's Comedy of Errors and Love's Labors Lost were less than memorable), the Public Theatre's Shakespeare in the Park returned in top form with a fantastic production of one of the Bard's best comedies, Much Ado About Nothing. The always excellent Lily Rabe was perfectly cast as the tart-tongued Beatrice, and Hamish Linklater's Benedict made for a perfect comic foil. But while Rabe and Linklater were definitely the star attractions, the entire supporting cast was filled with excellent actors under superb direction by Tony winner Jack O'Brien. A truly magical evening that successfully ran the full gamut of human emotion in just two and a half hours, this production was an unadulterated delight from beginning to end. The lack of a marquee star or available theatre precluded a Broadway transfer, but this mounting of Shakespeare's comedy was as deserving of that honor as anything Shakespeare in the Park has produced.


And that's Part I of my list. Keep an eye out for Part II in the coming days, where I'll list my Top 5 favorite theatrical experiences of the year.

A Dazzling, Inventive, and Moving "Incident"

Review: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

Julliard grad Alexander Sharp makes one of the most impressive debuts in recent memory as autistic teen Christopher Boone in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

You have to hand it to those Brits: they certainly aren't afraid of innovative staging techniques. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, the latest dazzlingly theatrical import from London's West End, is one of the most visually arresting plays of the year, featuring an endlessly inventive staging by director Marianne Elliott and co-choreographers Scott Graham and Steven Hoggett. But more importantly, the show (adapted by Simon Stephens from Mark Haddon's bestselling novel) is an engaging, thought-provoking, and utterly moving examination of the challenges faced by an autistic teen and the fallible people tasked with raising him.

Although no one in the show ever utters the "A" word, it is clear that 15 year old Christopher Boone falls somewhere along the autism spectrum. He doesn't like to be touched, has trouble interacting with people who don't say what they mean (metaphors are a particular source of irritation), and interruptions to his routine often prompt wild outbursts. At the same time, Christopher is a mathematical genius whose ordered and logical view of the world translates into a special aptitude with numbers and observation. The play opens with Christopher being accused of murdering his neighbor's dog, and initially follows his quest to find the real culprit despite his father's insistence Christopher mind his own business. To give away much more would spoil the surprise, but let it be said that this curious incident prompts a journey far more concerned with Christopher and his relation to the world than with the death of a domesticated animal.

Christopher is brilliantly embodied by newcomer Alexander Sharp, fresh out of Julliard and making one of the most impressive Broadway debuts in years. Sharp's every tic, mannerism, and carefully selected syllable together create a wholly convincing and completely compelling portrayal of a very special young man. Both Sharp and the play refuse to let Christopher be defined or limited by his condition, but they also don't shy away from the very real challenges faced by an autistic youth in the modern world. More so than any play I've come across, Curious Incident places you inside its protagonist's head and makes you see the world through his eyes. The script, staging, and Sharp's deeply felt performance all combine to make Christopher extremely sympathetic and ensure the audience remains invested in his journey until the very end.

While Sharp does the lion's share of the play's heavy lifting, he is ably supported by the extremely capable ensemble. Francesca Faridany provides a beautifully warm, welcoming presence as Christopher's teacher Siobhan, anchoring the show with her earthy tones and calm demeanor. Ian Barford and Enid Graham do standout work as Christopher's flawed but deeply loving parents; Graham has an especially heartwrenching scene towards the end of the first act that is one of the most honest pieces of acting of the evening. The other members of the ensemble play a collection of bit parts with minimal lines, but they all still manage to make their characters pop. In fact it is the ensemble, more than anyone else on stage, who allows Sharp to soar.

That last sentence is meant literally. The ensemble hoists, lifts, and flips Sharp through a dizzying array of gravity-defying choreography that sends this production's wow factor through the roof. It's difficult to tell where Elliott's staging ends and the choreography by Misters Graham and Hogett begins, so best to just give them joint credit for the most inventive staging to grace Broadway this season. Using little more than the human body, they find ways to make Christopher walk on walls and fly through the air, creating a heightened version of reality that provides vast amounts of insight into how he sees the world.

Elloitt and her team also make excellent use of Bunny Christie's deceptively simple set. Augmented by Finn Ross' sensational video design, what initially appears to be little more than a black box with gridlines becomes a character in and of itself. Lit to perfection by Paule Constable, the set provides an added window into Christopher's ordered yet chaotic mind that is never less than fascinating to look at. Add in the sound design by Ian Dickinson and the electronica-tinged music by Adrian Sutton and Curious Incident becomes a sensory experience unlike any other.

It's easy to get carried away by the stagecraft on display, but all of the special effects in the world are wasted if the story they're supporting isn't worth telling. Thankfully, Christopher's journey of self discover is very much worth the effort, providing a window into the world of an autistic youth on his way to self discovery. Especially as portrayed by the sensational Mr. Sharp, Christopher has a great deal to teach us about perseverance and understanding in a moving narrative about the struggles of everyday life. The fact that these lessons come in a such a glossy, high tech package is only icing on the proverbial cake.

A Triumphant Return for Broadway's Greatest Funnyman

Review:  The Nance

Nathan Lane commands the stage in his latest tour de force performance, as the title character in Douglas Carter Beane's The Nance.

 

After several forays into the world of musical theatre bookwriting, Douglas Carter Beane returns to his roots as a serio-comedic playwright with The Nance, his latest Broadway venture that is recently finished up its run at the Lyceum Theatre (and will be recorded for broadcast on PBS).  And while the play is certainly a more accomplished work than any of his musical outings, it remains a frustratingly conflicted piece that attempts a variety of things without fully succeeding at any of them.  The play wants to be a probing character study but fails to really explore the motivations of its protagonist.  It wants to make an admittedly topical political statement but ends up feeling preachy and pedantic rather than relevant and illuminating.  It wants to be both a serious drama and a low-brow comedy, but rather than complimenting one another each of these disparate elements continually undercuts the effectiveness of the other.

But at the play’s center is a Herculean performance so electric, so accomplished in its specificity and authenticity that it almost succeeds in elevating the play to the lofty realms which it so obviously aspires to.  Nathan Lane’s work as protagonist Chauncey Mills is nothing short of extraordinary, reasserting his status as one of the most accomplished stage actors of his generation.  With no disrespect meant to his very talented costars, Lane acts circles around everyone else onstage, and actually manages to make the play’s disparate tones seem organic and even necessary. 

The plot centers on Lane’s Chauncey Mills character, a man who has made a name for himself doing burlesque skits in Depression Era New York City.  Mills’ signature role is that of the overtly effeminate stock character dubbed “The Nance,” a professional choice made infinitely more complex by the fact that Mills is himself gay.  After years of anonymous sex with strangers, Mills seduces a young man named Ned who is just coming to grips with his own sexuality, and to the surprise of both men they find themselves entering a long-term relationship together.  Meanwhile, Mills’ burlesque theatre and his act in particular are coming under increasing pressure from city officials taking a stance against indecency, forcing the outspoken Mills to make a choice between being himself and suppressing his true nature to fit in.

It cannot be overstated how brilliant Nathan Lane is in the central role. From the opening moments of the show until the final curtain, Lane dominates the stage and exhibits such mastery of his craft that even his accomplished costars look like amateurs in comparison.  The play gives him ample opportunity to demonstrate his dramatic chops, while simultaneously providing him with an unending string of zingers and comic bits that utilize his unparalleled sense of comedic timing.  Throughout the play we are treated to excerpts from Mills’ stage act, and Lane absolutely kills in these scenes of perfectly reconstructed vaudeville comedy.  Where a normal actor would earn one laugh Lane manages to get three, often by using little more than a cock of the eyebrow or a sideways glance at the audience.  More miraculous still is Lane’s ability to make such carefully calculated choices feel utterly spontaneous, leaving the audience with the impression that this virtuosic performance is being created from scratch each night.

And while none of his costars are operating on Lane’s level (there are few actors in the world that could match such inspired lunacy), the rest of the cast turns in fine performances in their own right.  In his Broadway debut, Jonny Orsini charts a beautifully realized journey of self-acceptance as Mills’ lover Ned, and watching him realize that his sexuality doesn’t automatically prevent him from enjoying the perks of a domesticated life is particularly poignant in this time when marriage equality is on the forefront of the national debate.  If there is one criticism of Orsini’s performance it’s that he plays the character rather dumb, which at times comes into direct conflict with the highly literate dialogue playwright Beane has provided all of the characters.

Lewis J. Stadlen plays the lovably gruff Efram with aplomb, and makes an excellent foil for Lane during the burlesque skits that are the show’s highlight.  In a lesser actor’s hands Efram’s discomfort with Mills’ sexuality would make him the clear villain of the piece, but Stadlen tempers his performance with enough begrudging respect to make it clear that Efram isn’t a bad person.  As the trio of burlesque dancers that work at the same theatre, Cady Huffman, Jenni Barber and Andrea Burns make for excellent support, although the writing doesn’t do enough to differentiate their three characters.  Huffman (reunited with Lane after they both won Tonys for The Producers a decade ago) makes the strongest impression, although she is unfortunately saddled with the most overtly political and unnecessarily knowing dialogue.

Director Jack O’Brien keeps the evening moving at a steady pace, and during the show’s final twenty minutes manages to synthesize the disparate bits and repeating motifs into something resembling resonance.  He is aided immensely by John Lee Beaty’s marvel of a rotating set, which allows for virtually seamless transitions from one locale to the next.  Ann Roth clearly had a ball with the period costumes, and her designs for the burlesque outfits in particular possess just the right amount of winking outlandishness.  The lights and sound by Japhy Weideman and Leon Rothenberg get the job done but aren’t particularly memorable, and the original music by Glen Kelly is a nice if unassuming addition to the proceedings.

Ultimately, The Nance’s primary reason for being is to provide Nathan Lane with a showcase for his immense talents, and in that respect it succeeds wholeheartedly.  The comedic genius’ work manages to elevate Douglas Carter Beane’s passable script into something approaching greatness, and everyone involved has graciously taken a backseat while letting the master work his magic.  It is a worthwhile evening for those who are interested, although I do hope that Lane’s next Broadway outing is in a vehicle more worthy of his extraordinary gifts.

A Steamy Southern Night, Minus the Heat

Review:  Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

This latest Cat answers the age-old question, "What kind of man wouldn't want to sleep with Scarlett Johansson?"

 

As the curtain rises on the latest Broadway revival of Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, you are immediately struck by two things:  the gorgeousness of Christopher Oram’s sprawling set, and the insignificance of star Scarlett Johansson in comparison to it.  Despite a valiant attempt to fill the cavernous Richard Rodgers Theatre, Johansson and her fellow actors never succeed in making their presence truly felt, resulting in an occasionally engaging but ultimately unsatisfactory production of this great American drama.

Set on the Pollitt family plantation in mid-century Mississippi, the drama’s primary conflict arises from the question of who will inherit the estate should family patriarch Big Daddy (Ciaran Hinds) lose his fight with cancer.  Big Daddy’s favorite son, Brick (Benjamin Walker), has developed quite the drinking problem since the death of his best friend Skipper, leading everyone to question his ability to run the massive estate.  Brick is also childless, a major sticking point between him and his dissatisfied beauty of a wife, Maggie (Johansson), who has her own opinions about what has prompted her husband’s sudden dependence on alcohol.

Williams’ script is a multilayered marvel of subtext and shades of gray, but the play’s delicate mood wasn’t designed to fill a theatre as large as the Richard Rodgers.  The producers really should have tried harder to secure a more suitable venue for this oft-performed classic (this production is the third time Cat has played Broadway in the past decade), and their choice of director seems equally misinformed.  A background in musical theatre has left Rob Ashford ill-equipped to guide his actors towards the sort of nuanced performances necessary to make such a familiar work feel fresh, and everything in this production seems oversimplified.  Ashford’s direction leaves no room for interpretation or debate, with even the big revelations being so blatantly obvious from the get-go that the characters seem inexcusably stupid for not recognizing them sooner.  There aren’t even any pretty stage pictures to look at, as Ashford’s collection of unmotivated crosses and forced stage business fails to result in even halfway innovative visuals.

The director’s shortcomings are particularly disappointing given that most of his cast is both talented and well-suited to their roles.  Johansson, whose Tony-winning work in A View from the Bridge remains one of the strongest Broadway debuts of the new millennium, possesses both the inner strength and effortless sexuality to make for a captivating Maggie.  But her normally luminous presence is curiously dialed back here, and her performance isn’t as fleshed-out and varied as it should be.  Johansson is by no means bad, but she also isn’t the triumph one would hope for, and you cannot help but think that a better director could have guided her towards a more effective performance.

As Brick, Tony-nominee Walker fares better, although his performance suffers from Ashford’s bluntness.  Brick’s possible repressed homosexual feelings towards Skipper, one of the key sources of conflict in the narrative, are now blindingly apparent to everyone.  Rather than slowly realizing the extent of his feelings over the course of the evening, this Brick seems fully aware of what’s going on from the outset, robbing one of the play’s main characters of his emotional journey. 

Among the rest of the cast, Hinds has an appropriate amount of Southern bluster as Big Daddy, and his extended scene with Walker in the second act is the closest this Cat gets to realizing the potential of Williams’ writing.  Debra Monk’s Big Mama is more overtly comedic than necessary, and the veteran actress’ performance has a tendency to drift towards shrillness.  Michael Park and Emily Bergl do serviceable work in the thankless roles of Brick’s brother Gooper and his sister-in-law Mae, although the pair is never quite as funny or loathsome as the characters really should be.

It is somewhat ironic that the show’s physical production displays a subtlety and attention to detail conspicuously absent from the acting.  Oram’s lovingly crafted bedroom set gives a full indication of the opulence of the rest of the plantation, and the costumes by Julie Weiss are suitably refined.  Neil Austin’s lighting quite handsomely highlights both the actors and the set, and his slight shifts in color and intensity provide more nuance to the action than many of the performances.  Sound designer Adam Cork has put a stunning amount of effort into creating realistic ambient noise, with the volume level rising and falling appropriately whenever a door is opened or closed (which is quite often).

There is enough that works about this Cat that it cannot be written off as a complete disaster, and any production that gives deserving thespians like Johansson and Walker the chance to display their craft is certainly welcome.  But thanks to a misguided venue choice and uninspired direction by Ashford, this revival never takes flight the way it could, making its existence difficult to justify.  The controversial all-black staging from a few years back ultimately did a better job of servicing the play than this misfire, which may be the most damning critique possible of a work so strongly tied to its pre-Civil Rights Southern milieu.

Podcast Episode 6: Spring Preview, Part 1

Jared, Christopher and Brian get together to discuss this spring's upcoming Broadway shows. The first of this two part podcast centers on the plays, both new and old, scheduled to open on the Great White Way before April's Tony cutoff date. Revivals like Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Picnic get discussed along with new works like The Nance and Lucky Guy. Find out what the panel thinks is worth checking out, and come back for the musical-centric part 2!

Best Shows of 2012: #7

Best of 2012

#7 – Clybourne Park

Proof the white people should never, EVER attempt to "raise the roof."

 

Clybourne Park’s Broadway transfer almost didn’t happen.  Despite winning both the Pulitzer Prize for Drama and the Olivier Award for Best New Play, its planned Broadway bow was thrown into question when lead producer Scott Rudin withdrew from the production after a dispute with playwright Bruce Norris.  Thankfully producer/theatre owner Jordan Roth swooped in to save the show, as Clybourne Park’s mixture of black comedy and thought-provoking rhetoric made for a fantastically stimulating night at the theatre.

Set in the fictional Chicago neighborhood of Clybourne Park, Act I took place in 1959 and Act II took place in 2009.  The first half of the play concerned the imminent arrival of the neighborhood’s first black family (implied but never explicitly stated to be the Younger family from Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun), while the latter portion dealt with a white family moving into the now all-black neighborhood.  This structure allowed the play to make many fascinating observations about how racism has and hasn’t changed over the past five decades, and if the first act seemed slow the near perfection of the second half not only elevated the evening but proved everything which preceded it was necessary to fully understanding what Norris had to say.

An actor himself, Norris managed to create two equally compelling sets of nuanced characters, making the racially-charged dialogue feel organic rather than didactic.  Norris also expertly avoided the trap of oversimplifying his arguments, letting every character make valid points which challenged the audience’s beliefs.  It was refreshing to see both black and white characters portrayed as equally right (and wrong), and that quality helped make Clybourne Park an especially satisfying encapsulation of the endlessly complex subject of race.  Even better, the play managed to tackle all of these topics while remaining laugh-out-loud funny, providing a welcome respite from the weighty matters being discussed.

The cast of Clybourne, all of whom originated their roles in the play’s world premiere Off-Broadway, was ideal.  Under the razor-sharp direction of Pam MacKinnon, the seven-strong company was a master class in ensemble acting, supporting and playing off one another with delightful ease.  With every actor tasked with portraying two characters (one in the first act, one in the second), the specificity and nuance in their characterizations became all the more impressive.  Their chameleon-like nature allowed the audience to fully immerse itself in the play’s world, and kept the focus squarely on Norris’ crackling dialogue.  The deserved winner of this year’s Best Play Tony, Clybourne Park gave audiences the perfect blend between art and entertainment, and that is why it is one of the Best Shows of 2012.

To read my full review of Clybourne Park, click here.

Podcast Episode 4: Fall Season Wrap-Up

As 2012 fades into 2013, Jared, Brian, and Christopher look back at the past six months on Broadway and the many productions of the fall season.  Which shows impressed the most, and which ones missed the mark?  Find out as we discuss our favorites and which shows we fully expect to see among next year's Tony nominees.
 

A Sleazy, Empty One Night Stand

Review:  The Performers

The Performers would be approximately 35.7% better if Cheyenne Jackson spent the entire show wearing this.

 

Complaining about the vulgarity in The Performers is akin to complaining the music at a rock concert is too loud.  The new comedy by David West Read is set in the world of the adult entertainment industry, so of course there’s going to be a large amount of graphic sex talk that doesn’t confine itself to proper anatomical terms.  But unlike in other, better plays, the vulgarity in The Performers doesn’t serve any higher purpose than mere shock value, and results in an evening that is both unfulfilling and forgettable.

Set in a Las Vegas hotel during the annual Adult Entertainment Awards, the play opens with porn star – or performer, to use his preferred title – Mandrew being interviewed by his high school friend Lee for a story in The New York Post.  Mandrew is married to fellow performer Peeps, who is experiencing an extreme fit of jealousy after learning he kissed scene partner Sundown LeMay (Peeps and Sundown are already in a fight over the cartoonishly large breast implants Sundown got without informing her supposed best friend Peeps).  Also in the mix are Mandrew’s older professional rival Chuck Wood and Lee’s mousy fiancée Sara, all of whom go through some sort of personal crisis that is neatly resolved by the end of the play’s short 90 minute runtime.

Read’s writing is high on dirty words but low on character development, which makes even the shortened length feel too long.  Read frequently resorts to sentimentality and clichéd observations about love and intimacy in an attempt to create audience sympathy for these walking punch lines, but it almost always falls flat.  The constant stream of obscenities and dick jokes does provide some laughter, although the frat boy sense of humor proves too lowbrow to be consistently entertaining.  To Read’s credit, there are some truly funny bits in the play’s second half, including a hilarious riff on the original Freaky Friday film and a perfectly executed callback to a previously established joke about the Where’s Waldo? book series.

The biggest laughs come courtesy of the play’s two best actresses, Ari Graynor and Jenni Barber as Peeps and Sundown, respectively.  Both women turn their insanely vapid characters into legitimate human beings, nailing the comedy while still demonstrating a convincing emotional underpinning to their shenanigans.  For all her non sequitur ramblings and incessant whining, Graynor’s Peeps emerges as the most sympathetic character of the bunch, made relatable by the emphasis on her desire for a loving marriage and job security.  Meanwhile, Barber manages the small miracle of not being overshadowed by her insanely large fake breasts (they really must be seen to be believed) and turns her limited dialogue into comedic gold.  Both actresses elevate their material to the next level, and the production noticeably suffers when neither is onstage.

As Mandrew and Chuck Wood, Cheyenne Jackson and Henry Winkler aren’t as compelling as their female costars, but both do respectable jobs with subpar material.  Jackson continues to be a reliable supporting player, making his Mandrew suitably dense yet lovable, but the actor still hasn’t found the breakout role he deserves.  (Note:  Those hoping for an eyeful of Jackson’s chiseled physique will be disappointed, because despite his revealing opening outfit the star spends the rest of the night fully clothed.)  Winkler, who isn’t in the show nearly as much as the promotional materials would have you believe, still seems somewhat uncomfortable with his character’s blue humor, but he does have a rather touching moment with Jackson that is surprisingly heartfelt for such an empty-headed production.

Unfortunately, Daniel Breaker and Alicia Silverstone aren’t up to snuff as engaged couple Lee and Sara.  Breaker has the unforgiving job of being the straight man, and seeing him flounder in the role reiterates just how hard that character type is to play.  Breaker also undercuts his effectiveness by mugging to the audience in inappropriate places, leaving his scenes feeling unbalanced and unfocused.  Meanwhile, Silverstone is a disaster for much of the show, displaying none of the charisma she’s usually known for.  She saves face thanks to a well-executed drunk scene towards the play’s climax, although it comes as too little, too late.

The costumes by Jessica Wegener Shay and sets by Anna Louizos are suitably tacky for a play with this subject matter, and the direction by Evan Cabnet is serviceable but uninspiring.  Ultimately, the piece feels like an Off-Broadway or regional production that somehow snuck onto a Broadway stage.  The script is well-intentioned but lacks sparks, and with the possible exception of Graynor and Barber none of the performances feel like they’re Broadway caliber.  Given the wealth of other options on tap for this season, The Performers just isn’t worth your time and money.

The Best Bad Party You'll Ever See

Review:  Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

George has found his bite, and it's truly scary.
Carrie Coon, Tracy Letts, Madison Dirks, and Amy Morton in Steppenwolf's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

 

You just can’t keep a good play down.  Edward Albee’s classic drama Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? last played Broadway a scant seven years ago, but any audience member thinking it’s too soon to revive this American masterpiece will have all doubts wiped away within the first few minutes of the sensational new production currently playing the Booth Theatre.  Imported from Chicago’s famed Steppenwolf Theatre Company with its original cast intact, this devastating new interpretation of the 50-year-old work feels as immediate and fresh as if it were written yesterday.

For those unfamiliar with the play, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? depicts the incredibly dysfunctional relationship of a college history professor named George (Tracy Letts) and his supremely dissatisfied wife, Martha (Amy Morton).  Booze-addled and vicious, the pair has turned their frequent verbal assaults into a highly structured game of wits that’s been perfected through years of practice.  They’ve tricked the unsuspecting Nick and Honey (Madison Dirks and Carrie Coon, respectively) into unwittingly participating in this blood sport by inviting the younger couple over for a nightcap following a faculty party, and after a series of escalating arguments the sun rises on four completely shattered human beings.

Albee is a three-time Pulitzer Prize winner and acknowledged master of the theatre, and Virginia Woolf is the work that first catapulted him to national attention.  The passage of time has done nothing to dull its incendiary bite and pulse-pounding immediacy, and the depth of these supposedly civilized characters’ cruelty remains shocking 50 years later.  The dialogue, especially that of the fiercely intelligent George and Martha, dazzles with its inventiveness and complexity, offering a feast for the ears while providing a wealth of information about the characters speaking it.  How the characters talk is just as revealing as what they say, and repeated visits will unearth new turns of phrase and clever wordplay to appreciate.

Albee has such fun with the language that his play manages to be oppressively dark and blisteringly funny, a duality wisely highlighted by director Pam MacKinnon and her phenomenal cast.  MacKinnon’s razor sharp direction perfectly balances comedy and drama, giving the play a kinetic energy that alternates between uproarious laughter and squirm-inducing discomfort.  The play’s three-plus hours fly by, leaving you thoroughly exhausted and yet hungry for more.

The cast may lack any recognizable Hollywood names, but the level of talent displayed by this incredible ensemble of Steppenwolf actors more than compensates for the lack of star wattage.  This is the finest group of performers to set foot on Broadway in years, working in such perfect tandem that the production never feels anything less than completely authentic.  The attention to detail and emotional honesty is truly stunning, and although I don’t typical prognosticate in reviews, I expect this company to do exceedingly well come Tony season.

The greatest revelation among the cast is Tracy Letts, who won virtually every award imaginable as the author of the Pulitzer Prize-winning August: Osage County.  His acting talents are every bit as astounding as his playwriting abilities, and his George emerges as the standout in a play usually dominated by Martha’s grandstanding theatrics.  Letts initially appears to be the unambitious “nothing” Martha constantly accuses him of being, but as the night progresses he shows a bite and extreme callousness that far surpasses anything his wife is capable of.  His malice is palpable, and when George loses his cool you’ll find yourself shrinking away in abject horror.  But just as George reaches his most monstrous, Letts will do something so utterly charming that you cannot help but be drawn to him, and by play’s end he’s demonstrated that all of his actions are motivated by a twisted but wholly sincere love for his wife.

Of course, George cannot exist without Martha, and Amy Morton does thoroughly impressive work in the role.  From her first entrance she displays a perfectly modulated level of intoxication, using every nuance of her movement and mannerisms to create the most convincing depiction of a high functioning alcohol I’ve ever seen.  Morton fully embraces all of Martha’s less admirable qualities, including her particularly egregious actions in Act II, but tempers her anger enough that you never once doubt her deep, uninhibited love of George.  Morton creates a devastating portrait of a tragically lonely, wounded human being, one who ultimately knows she’s brought this all upon herself and is deeply remorseful about it.  The interplay between Morton and Letts is the centerpiece of the evening, and they portray George and Martha’s relationship in all of its off-putting complexity.

As the most unfortunate houseguests ever, Carrie Coon and Madison Dirks more than hold their own against the powerhouse performances going on around them.  Carrie Coon’s Honey may not have much to say, but she communicates volumes through her body language and physicality.  Honey’s the most obviously intoxicated of the bunch, and Coon creates a convincing alcohol-induced haze around herself while still giving the audience access to the myriad of thoughts swirling around in her head.  Coon also provides the evening’s most hilarious moments of physical comedy, gamely throwing herself at whatever piece of furniture (or person) happens to be closest.

Madison Dirks has the trickiest role in the show, as Nick acts as much as an audience surrogate as he does a participant in the story.  Instantly distrustful of George and Martha’s antics, Nick initially seems like a nice guy caught in a bad situation, but eventually reveals himself to be every bit as depraved and morally reprehensible as his hosts.  Dirks slowly unravels the layers of pretension and arrogance surrounding Nick, leaving us with a wholly honest portrait of a young man already beginning to feel the bitter sting of regret.

The production design perfectly complements and enhances the work of the actors.  Todd Rosenthal’s set looks exactly like you’d expect the house of two alcoholic academics to look, with each nook and cranny filled with enough perfectly ordered chaos that it could hold our attention all by itself.  Allen Lee Hughes’ lighting subtly conveys the passage of time as the evening wears on and dawn approaches, and the costumes by Nan Cibula-Jenkins inform all of the characters without overwhelming any of them.

In short, this top-tier Virginia Woolf is a must see for any serious theatre fan.  The Steppenwolf Theatre Company is home to some of the greatest actors working today, and we are lucky that these four have chosen to grace the New York stage with their abundance of talent.  Tracy Letts and Amy Morton earn their place among the all-time great George and Marthas, while Pam MacKinnon’s expert direction keeps the entire production moving forward with a crackling energy that is thrilling to behold.  Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is the epitome of Broadway theatre, and simply cannot be missed.

Podcast: 2012-2013 Broadway Season Preview Extravaganza

Today we're doing something a little different here on Broadway, Etc.  Rather than write a series of posts about the upcoming Broadway season, I thought it would be fun to get a group of friends together and make a podcast about it.  So please welcome Jessica, McKenna, and Christopher to the blog! 

We're dishing about the shows we're most excited about (and a couple we aren't), and I hope you have as much fun listening to it as we had making it.  Who knows?  Maybe this will become a more regular thing.  Enjoy!

PS - Thanks to Christopher for all the technical support! :-)

Peter and the Overly Ambitious Creative Team

Review:  Peter and the Starcatcher

It’s difficult to know what to make of Peter and the Starcatcher, the stage adaptation of the 2004 children’s novel which serves as a Peter Pan prequel.  There is a bevy of talent on display, both onstage and behind the scenes, and the almost endlessly inventive production flies by at such a brisk pace that only the most impatient theatregoers will be bored.  Yet Peter also contains some maddeningly large missteps that are all the more intolerable because of the quality that surrounds them.

The plot is a rousing adventure in which Lord Astor and his daughter Molly attempt to smuggle a chest full of secret treasure out of England at the behest of Queen Victoria.  Unfortunately, their clever plan involving a decoy ship and fake treasure runs into complications when a greedy captain decides he would rather have the treasure for himself.  To make matters worse, a group of pirates led by the maniacal Black Stache simultaneously attack the convoy, and on top of all THAT, Molly discovers a group of orphans about to be sold into slavery, among them an unnamed Boy with a strong dislike of grown-ups (three guesses as to who he becomes).

If all that sounds complicated, it is, and the fact that Peter and the Starcatcher remains coherent throughout is a testament to Rick Elice’s script and the sharp direction by Roger Rees and Alex Timbers.  Despite appearing to be a children’s play, Peter never talks down to its audience, and includes something for people of all ages.  For the kids, there is plenty of physical comedy and even the occasional fart joke, while copious amounts of wordplay and some clever innuendo will keep the adults in the audience interested as well.  The story is so interesting that it’s almost a shame it must tie into the preexisting Peter Pan mythos, as the play’s resolution forgoes a satisfying finale in favor of setting up Peter’s coming adventure with Wendy.

Despite a strong cast (more on them in a bit), Rees and Timbers’ direction and the astounding design work are the real stars here.  The most complicated piece of machinery used is a rolling staircase; almost every you see could be found or easily manufactured by an amateur theatre troupe.  Rees and Timbers use basic items like ropes, umbrellas, and toy ships to communicate cramped holding cells, tropical rainstorms, great naval battles, flying cats and even that famed giant crocodile.  Donyale Werle’s simple set design proves endlessly adaptable, and is lit to perfection by Jeff Croiter’s gorgeous lights.  Paloma Young’s costumes give each character an identity while remaining basic enough to allow the actors to easily transition between characters, and her mermaid outfits alone justify her recent Tony win. 

In fact, there is so much theatrical invention on display that it can become distracting.  Everyone involved is so concerned with proving their creativity that the physical production often takes precedent over the story.  Entire swaths are dialogue are rendered incomprehensible due to the onstage hubbub of actors moving props, miming scenery, and creating constantly changing stage pictures.  All of this visual information is generally clear enough to prevent confusion, but it would have been nice to see these supremely talented folk put more faith in Elice’s sterling script and strike a better balance between the visual and auditory.

As for the actors, they fully commit to their roles and each other, forming a tight-knit ensemble willing to do anything to support their fellow performers.  They allow themselves to be used as set dressing, props, and even furniture, while still creating distinct and even compelling characters.  And if those characters tend towards broadly drawn outlines rather than fully realized individuals, it’s hard to fault the actors for lack of trying.

As the strong-willed but good-hearted Molly, Celia Keenan-Bolger emerges as the production’s heart and soul, anchoring the zaniness of her male co-stars with her no-nonsense yet still hilarious performance.  Arnie Burton is equally charming as Molly’s nanny Mrs. Bumbrake, and Rick Holmes proves to be an excellent authority figure as Lord Astor.  Teddy Bergman spends most of the first act playing supporting roles, but his second act romp as island native Fighting Prawn is so memorable that his contributions to the show prove essential.  Adam Chanler-Berat does seems a little lost at sea as the Boy who becomes Peter Pan, although the script doesn’t do him any favors by keeping Peter passive and uninvolved for a good portion of the show.

And then there’s newly minted Tony-winner Christian Borle as Black Stache (re: Captain Hook).  I certainly can see why he won, and wouldn’t want to advocate taking the award and accompanying recognition from an actor who has been so consistently strong in such different kinds of roles over the years.  But at the performance I saw, Borle’s hamminess and scenery chewing repeatedly crossed the line from entertaining to distracting, throwing the focus of the piece and onstage energy completely out of whack.  It was almost impossible to concentrate on the actual story while he was gallivanting about the stage, and yet I’m not sure any actor would have been able to resist the urge to mug given the over-the-top applause that met any bit of comic business he even attempted.  At one point this was clearly a brilliant performance; unfortunately, it has now grown so broad that it hurts the show as much as it helps it.

There is much to admire about Peter and the Starcatcher, including the commitment of the actors and the unbridled imagination of the creative team.  But sometimes less is more, a truism the play seems to both understand and simultaneously ignore with its shunning of high-tech stagecraft for an overabundance of low-tech alternatives.  A great story gets lost among the frenzy of creativity on display, and after the platitudes given to the show by the rest of the theatrical community, I really was hoping for something better.  As long as expectations are kept in check, Peter and the Starcatcher makes for an fine evening of theatre, especially for those who are young or simply young at heart.