The Imaginary Invalid

B-

As an avid Bill Irwin fan, I have been eagerly awaiting his adaptation of Moliere, now in previews at Roundabout’s Todd Haimes Theatre. I am sorry to report that I found it disappointing. Since I haven’t read or seen the original, I can’t comment on the faithfulness of Irwin’s adaptation, but I thought his version was a bit overwrought and tiresome. Furthermore, except for a bit of mime at the very end, it did not show Irwin doing what he does best. He plays Argan, the hypochondriac at the mercy of a team of doctors more concerned about billing than healing. He throws in modern terms like “primary care provider” so we don’t miss that he is also criticizing our own health care system. Argan’s daughter Angelique (a rather strident Ava Lalezaezadeh) wants to marry the handsome Cleante (Daniel Croix Henderson). Her stepmother Beline (the scene-stealing Crystal A. Dickinson) wants to send her to a convent and is champing at the bit to get hold of Argan’s money. Argan wants to marry her to the ridiculous Thomas (Hiram Delgado), nephew of Dr. Diaforus (Brooks Ashmanskas, not at his best) so he will have a doctor in the family. Argan’s brother Beralde (the always excellent Dylan Baker) wants to cure him of his hypochondria. Argan’s wily servant Toinette (the wonderful Rachel Bloom) pretends to agree with everyone, but slyly manages to manipulate them to her will. The actors break the fourth wall occasionally to solicit the audience’s agreement with their remarks.  I found it only sporadically funny.  Brandon J. Dirden’s direction kept things moving smoothly. The best part of the experience for me was seeing the marvelous costumes by Karen Perry which were truly a feast for the eye. Beowulf Boritt’s set is also a treat, especially the way it is assembled before our eyes by masked men cloaked in black. Most of the audience seemed to be enjoying themselves, but I was expecting more. Running time: 90 minutes; no intermission.                   

Good Time Charlie

A-

As soon as you enter Martinson Hall at the Public Theater and see the exotic garden complete with a torii gate, you are ready for something out of the ordinary and that’s what actor/playwright, Ryan J. Haddad, delivers. Haddad is a gay man of Lebanese extraction from Shaker Heights, Ohio who has not let his cerebral palsy prevent him from having a theatrical career in New York. Over the last several years he has performed a series of autobiographical solo works that have been well received. This time out, he has attempted something more complex, a tribute to the gay uncle (Jonathan Raviv) who introduced him to theater, interwoven with his own life story. Uncle Charlie’s parents (Nael Nacer and Artemis Pebdani), unlike Ryan’s, were unsupportive, forcing him into a career in dentistry when he really wanted to be an actor. Charlie was fortunate enough to meet Lou (Tim Bagley), a recently divorced professor of film studies, at a Cleveland gay bar when Charlie was still a dental student. The 24-year age difference proved no obstacle to what became a lifelong relationship. Through Lou, Charlie met Sheldon (Michael Cristofer), owner/programmer of the local art cinema, who became a very close friend. Charlie, Lou, Sheldon and Janice (Beth Malone), Ryan’s lesbian aunt, became his chosen family. Throughout the play, Haddad employs several metatheatrical devices including breaking the fourth wall to address the audience and having Charlie argue with Ryan over the script. To complicate matters, the same actors portray both Charlie’s parents and Ryan’s parents, which occasionally became confusing. While the first act is mostly light-hearted and raunchy, the mood darkens in the second act when one of the characters suffers a stroke and Charlie is burdened with the care of his parents and closest friend. It struck close to home when Sheldon expressed both his regret at never having had a long-term relationship and his belief that the arts offer life-sustaining power. The total effect of the play was quite original and bracing. The actors are all very good. Long-time theater lovers will be happy to see Beth Malone from Fun Home and Michael Cristofer, author of the Pulitzer winner The Shadow Box. The set by Afsoon Pajoufar and costumes by Enver Chakartash are wonderful. Director Danny Sharron successfully negotiates the many twists and turns. You certainly don’t have to be gay to enjoy it, but you are likely to enjoy it more if you are. Running time: two hours 15 minutes including intermission.
 
  

Other Desert Cities

B

I saw the original Lincoln Center Theater premiere 15 years ago and the Broadway transfer, which I liked somewhat better, a year later. When I learned that the play was being revived on Broadway, I had no intention of seeing it again but the temptation to see Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Ed Harris and Allison Janney together on one stage was too strong for me to resist. The third time wasn’t exactly a charm, but it wasn’t a disappointment either. The plot revolves around whether East Coast lefty writer-daughter Brooke Wyeth (Lily Rabe, in a role previously played by Elizabeth Marvel and Rachel Griffith), not long out of an expensive psychiatric clinic, should publish her memoir about a family tragedy that happened 25 years prior, no matter what pain it causes her staunchly Republican parents Polly & Lyman Wyeth (Louis-Dreyfus and Harris, in roles created by Stockard Channing and Stacey Keach) who are living in Palm Springs splendor in self-exile from Hollywood. Polly is a former screenwriter and Lyman is a former actor famous for his dying scenes. Janney plays Polly's alcoholic sister Silda (previously played by Linda Lavin and Judith Light), who cowrote screenplays with Polly until they had a falling out, and who is using her niece to work out her own feelings against her sister. Joe Keery plays Brooke's hedonist younger brother Trip (a role originated by Thomas Sadowsi, followed by Justin Kirk), producer of a "Judge Judy"-type tv show, who is trying desperately not to take sides. They all have at each other for an act and a half, until we learn that things are not quite as they seem. A brief final scene set five years later seems a rather artless way to end the play. Don’t blink or you’ll miss an important non-verbal moment at the very end. The play has dated a bit. The Reagan Republicans with whom the Wyeths associated seem almost quaint today. The first act seems a bit long and repetitive, but things pick up in Act Two. The dialog is full – perhaps over-full -- of one-liners. Baitz’s script generously gives each actor a chance to shine. Louis-Dreyfus and Harris seemed a bit tentative at first but grew stronger as the play progressed. Rabe makes a strong impression as Polly but plays her closer to hysteria than I recall. Keery is perfectly fine as Trip. There is no way Janney resembles Louis-Dreyfus enough to be her sister, but no matter. She steals every scene she is in. The set by Scott Pask is surprisingly drab, unlike any Palm Springs homes I have seen. The costumes by Tom Broecker are attractive except for the one that Polly first appears in, a tennis outfit with a skirt that looks more like an apron. The sound design by Mikaal Sulaiman is good. John Benjamin Hickey keeps things moving and gives each actor their moment. The play has its flaws but is entertaining, nonetheless. I would recommend it more enthusiastically if it were not for the outrageous ticket prices. Minimum prices for orchestra or dress circle seats begin at $340 and go up exponentially from there. The price I paid a month ago has doubled. If you have a bundle of cash, go and enjoy. Running time: 2 ½ hours including intermission.
 
 

anon

B

There are at least three possible meanings for the title of Anne Washburn’s latest play, now in previews at MCC Theater. The word is internet slang for an unknown person online. It is also short for QAnon, the insidious conspiracy theory that gripped the country several years ago. Finally, it is an archaic word for “soon,” which turns out to be the scariest definition. My history with Anne Washburn is not a happy one: after being disappointed by three of her plays in a row several years ago, I decided that I had no affinity for her work and gave up on her. When this Washburn premiere turned up on my MCC subscription, I was not thrilled, but decided to grin and bear it. To my surprise, it turned out to be an interesting evening. While the play is far from perfect, it is timely and offers lots to think about. It is set in a San Antonio suburb in late September 2024 in the waning days of the Biden era. Our protagonist is Jeanie (the excellent Crystal Finn), mother of a 15-year-old daughter Delia (a fine Izabel Mar) and an 8 year-old son whom we never meet. We don’t learn a lot about husband Michael (Andrew Garman), except that may be unhappy in his marriage. A gay couple have just moved in across the street: the level-headed Adam (Jeff Biehl) and the excitable Will (the usually excellent Jeremy Shamos). The host of the televised interview with Jeanie that opens the second act is played by Joel Van Liew. One of the central themes of the play is our addiction to social media, but, in a neat twist, it is the parent, not the child, who is the addict. Jeanie spends so much time spinning conspiracies on her TikTok account that she forgets things like picking Delia up after school or preparing dinner. Delia, on the other hand, has forbidden her mother even to mention her on TikTok. The new neighbors stumble across Jeanie’s account and learn that she is incensed by the pride flag they have put up on their house. They become paranoid to a humorous but ridiculous degree until, four nights later, when she actually takes their flag down. In a subplot, Delia’s (short for Cordelia?) latest assignment from her English teacher is to write a soliloquy for a Shakespearean character who does not get one. She chooses Goneril, Lear’s eldest daughter. In a bold move, Washburn begins act two with a several-minute-long television interview in 2027 (not a typo) between the vice-president-general and “digital warrior” Jeanie. I won’t give away who the v-p general is. The play then resumes where it left off back in September 2024 before the flag-snatching. While each of the play’s threads is interesting, they don’t knit together as well as they might. The extremely abrupt ending needs work. As I write, there is still a week before opening, so perhaps things will fall into place. The minimalist set by dots depicts a table with benches and chairs that doubles as the dining space of both families. The projection design by Jared Mezzocchi is simple but effective. Brenda Abbandandolo’s costumes are apt. The lighting by Cha See is evocative. Anne Kauffman’s direction is fluid. As the play now stands, I found it a flawed but intriguing work that I was glad I didn’t pass up. Running time: two hours five minutes including intermission.

Memoirs of Amorous Gentlemen

B-

The tragedy of composer/lyricist Duncan Sheik’s recent death at 56 is compounded by the fact that he did not live to see either the upcoming revival of his Tony-winner Spring Awakening or the opening of this, his final musical, now in previews at The Night Egg at The Culture Club. My expectations upon arrival were completely misguided -- I thought the show was based on the life of the famous French author Colette, but it turned out to be based on the eponymous heroine of a popular Japanese manga graphic novel, whose only connection to the former was that she too became a writer. This Colette (Sophia Anne Caruso) is a whore in a mid-range Parisian bordello, with a boyfriend since childhood named Leon (Cory Jeacoma) who turns out to be an utter scoundrel. We also meet some of the other whores – the overweight, over-the-hill Carmen (Elsa Keefe); Ivy (Leanne Antonio), the lesbian infatuated with Colette; Gigi --not that one! – (Jesse Peltier), Mignot (Jaedynn Latter), their no-nonsense madame (Jenny Powers), and, finally, Nana (Nkeki Obi-Melekwe), the higher-class whore for whom Leon furtively lusts. The clients, who include a man who wants to be a bird, another who wants to be a clown who watches the circus girls from inside a trunk, and one who wants to be a dog on a leash, are played by Michael Everett, Caleb Marshall, Austin Lesch and Michael Starr – I would tell you who was which, but I’m uncertain. Sakae (Marc dela Cruz) is a Japanese blocked writer who pays Colette to keep a notebook which he hopes will inspire him. One of the women suggests that Colette enter a story contest offering the winner publication in Le Matin (an inside joke because the real Colette became literary editor of Le Matin). She wins but at a cost. The book by Leah Nanako Winkler plays well. I liked Sheik’s pop rock music better than the lyrics – “For whom do you long” may be exemplary grammar but not very conversational. I didn’t think the songs ever reached the level of Spring Awakening, American Psycho or The Secret Life of Bees. The cast is universally strong, especially Caruso, who has to do most of the heavy lifting. Scott Pask’s set features a scruffy circus ring. Except for a bed that lowers and rises as needed, the set is strictly low-tech – instead of a turntable, we get two stagehands in black pushing a ladder around the ring. Catherine Zuber’s costumes and Brian Tovar’s lighting add a lot to the production. The choreography by Rob Ashford, who also directed, includes one brief pas de deux near the end that struck me as incongruous. The simulated sex scenes were more athletically impressive than lascivious. There is no nudity. When I saw how edgy and youthful the arriving audience looked, I realized that I was definitely not the target audience for this show. Nevertheless, it was an interesting way to spend 90 minutes.

American Psycho ***

This musical version of Brett Easton Ellis’s controversial 1991 novel about Patrick Bateman (the mesmerizing Benjamin Walker), an investment banker by day and serial killer by night, is a triumph of style over substance. Although I have neither read the book nor seen the movie, I gather that the musical has smoothed out a lot of the rough edges and reduced the body count substantially. Satire trumps gore most of the time. The soullessness of consumerist capitalism in the Reagan era is well-captured by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa’s book, Duncan Sheik’s music and lyrics, Lynn Page’s choreography and Rupert Goold’s direction. The gadgets, brands, clubs and restaurants may have changed but the spirit of entitlement in 1989 New York is not all that different from today’s. Bateman and his coworkers are as vacuous as their pecs are buff. The women are equally unlikable. The monochromatic scenic design by Es Devlin and sophisticated projections by Finn Ross are so striking that they sometimes threaten to upstage the actors. Among them are Helene York as Bateman’s obnoxious fiancee, Jennifer Damiano as his love-struck secretary, Drew Moerlein as his rival, Morgan Weed as his mistress and Alice Ripley, basically wasted, as his mother. The whirling sets, hyperactive videos, bright lights (by Justin Townsend) and gaudy costumes (by Katrina Lindsay) eventually produced a feeling of sensory overload and a diminishing conviction that the story was worth all the effort involved. The second act loses some of the early energy. Nevertheless, as its best moments, the show’s style overcomes its flaws and makes for edgy entertainment. The audience, considerably younger than usual for Broadway, was quite enthusiastic. Running time: 2 hours, 35 minutes including intermission.

My 1,000th Post!

 

Little did I know back in 2010 what I was getting myself into when I started this blog by publishing a few lines about a play I had just seen to share my impressions with a few friends. As my comments grew more extensive, these friends shared them with their friends and the number of readers grew. I began seeing more shows and writing more elaborate reviews, reaching a peak of 112 in 2018. A combination of health problems and the pandemic slowed me down for several years and I hit bottom with only four reviews in 2024. The loyalty of my readers encouraged me not to give up. Thanks to my doctors and Access-A-Ride, NYC's paratransit program, I have been able to resume a good portion of my theatergoing. And so, as I reach this landmark, I offer my gratitude to my readers and resolve to continue for as long as possible to fulfill my stated mission -- to prevent readers from wasting time and money on plays they are not likely to enjoy and to point them toward worthy plays they might not know about.