Feeding the Dragon

B

Primary Stages is presenting the New York premiere of this one-person show, written and performed by Sharon Washington (Luce, The Scottsboro Boys), about a little girl who lived in a library. The little girl was Ms. Washington who, for four years, lived in an apartment on the top floor of the St. Agnes Branch of the New York Public Library, where her father was the custodian. In the early scenes, during which she describes her life above the library, the tone is light. She vividly impersonates several characters including her mother, a born and bred New Yorker, and her father, who was raised in South Carolina. She has a close relationship with her father until a family crisis arises. She is temporarily sent to live with an aunt and uncle, whom she vividly recreates. Later, she takes a road trip with her father to visit his family and discovers how different a life he had in the South. She continues the story of her subsequent life and how it was shaped by the stories she has shared with us. There are hints of outside events, but she concentrates on the personal. The title refers to the library’s coal furnace with an insatiable appetite for coal, but also represents the other dragons in life that must be fed. Ms. Washington has a very ingratiating personality and is a skilled storyteller and impersonator. The polished production benefits greatly from an attractive stepped set by Tony Ferrieri that incorporates library books and card catalog drawers in the risers. The large multi-paned back windows, lit by Ann G, Wrightson, magically change color as the moment requires. Maria Mileaf (A Body of Water) directs with a light touch. It all added up to a low-key pleasure. Running time: 80 minutes, no intermission.

This Flat Earth

C+

Ever since I saw Milk Like Sugar in 2011, I have found almost every play that Tony-winner Rebecca Taichman has directed in New York, including Stage Kiss, The Oldest Boy, Familiar, Indecent, How To Transcend a Happy Marriage, Time and the Conways, and School Girls to be a worthwhile experience. Furthermore, the two plays by Lindsey Ferrentino that I had seen — Ugly Lies the Bone and Amy (or Andy) and the Orphans — showed great promise. Therefore, I approached this timely play, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, with high expectations. I was disappointed. From the very first moment, I didn’t buy into it. Julie (Ella Kennedy Davis) is a 12-year-old with symptoms of PTSD after surviving a shooting at her school. Even for someone who can’t afford a cellphone, she seems remarkably naive and uninformed. Would someone her age really believe that she could save her allowance for a trip to Japan to get a boob job or be shocked to learn that there had been other school shootings? Her mother died in childbirth, so she has been raised by her good-natured but feckless father Dan (Lucas Papaelias; Once), a failed comedian forced to take a low-paying job at the water works. Her shy best friend Zander (Ian Saint-Germain) really wants to be her boyfriend. Their upstairs neighbor Cloris (Lynda Gravatt; Skeleton Crew, King Hedley II) is a retired cellist who likes to play LPs of the classical music she can no longer perform. That music is played by an offstage cellist (Christine H. Kim). Lisa (Cassie Beck; The Humans, The Whale), the grieving mother of a murdered girl, is trying to find a way to get on with her life. The fact that Dan has bought his daughter clothes that Lisa has donated to Goodwill illustrates the difference in the economic situation of the two families. To give Julie a chance at a better education, Dan has bent the rules. When Lisa inadvertently discovers his misstep, there is a crisis. Julie must face the reality that adults are not really able to fix everything. She bonds with Cloris, who has a long poetic monologue predicting Julie’s future. The topics of gun violence and income inequality could hardly be more relevant and the idea that music has the power to comfort is appealing. Somehow, it just did not come together for me. The level of acting varies, with Cassie Beck and Lynda Gravatt standing out. Dane Laffrey’s (Rancho Viejo, The Christians) awkward two-level set is deliberately sparsely furnished. Paloma Young’s (Time and the Conways, Lobby Hero) costumes are apt. Rebecca Taichman’s direction hits all the right notes, but the play itself needs a tuning. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Bobbie Clearly

C

Clearly may be the title character’s last name, but it is hardly a description of the manner in which he is portrayed. As a 14-year-old in rural Nebraska, he murders a girl named Casey in a cornfield for no apparent reason. If you expect to discover his motivation, you will be disappointed. The play traces the impact of his senseless act on ten residents of his hometown, Milton, Nebraska (pop. 750) over a period of about 15 years. They include Darla London (Constance Shulman; Barbecue), the town’s sole police officer, who narrates most of the story; Casey’s parents, Jane (Crystal Finn; Kingdom Come) and Stanley Welch (Christopher Innvar; The Snow Geese); Casey's brother Eddie (Tyler Lea; The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time), who witnessed the murder; two friends, Megan (Talene Monahon; The Government Inspector) and Meghan (Sasha Diamond; Significant Other), who are friendly rivals; Derek (JD Taylor), a shallow guy who gets by on his good looks; Russ (Marcus Ho; The Last Match). a very close friend of Jane’s; and two townies Pete (Gabriel Brown; The City of Conversation) and Mitch (Brian Quijada; My Mañana Comes). Each deals with the tragedy in a different way ranging from hatred to stoic acceptance to forgiveness. Two years after the murder, the Welches set up a foundation in Casey’s honor and initiate an annual talent show to raise funds. After ten years, Bobbie Clearly (Ethan Dubin; Rancho Viejo) is released from prison. His return to Milton stirs up many passions, which are exacerbated when he decides to enter the talent show. I think playwright Alex Lubitscher was aiming for a portrayal of small-town life in the vein of “Our Town” rather than a portrait of Bobbie. The performances from the talent show are more entertaining than relevant. Watching a hunter eviscerate a deer was just nasty. The quality of the acting varies widely. There are a few scenes that totally engage our rapt attention. While I admire the playwright’s ambition and raw talent, I do not feel that he was able to maintain firm control over his material. The tone wobbles from moment to moment. Roundabout Underground has mounted a lavish production. The set design by Arnulfo Maldonado (Indecent, Charm) covers all four walls of the auditorium with husked and detasseled ears of corn behind chicken wire. The audience is seated on three sides on folding chairs stenciled with “Milton Comm. Center.” Director Will Davis (Charm) keeps things moving along smoothly. While I would not call it a success, I am not sorry that I saw it. Running time: two hours 20 minutes including two intermissions.

Escape to Margaritaville

C-

Maybe it was the long, cold winter that made the idea of a vicarious escape to a Caribbean island for a couple of hours seem irresistible. So, when this jukebox musical of Jimmy Buffett songs turned up on TDF, I decided to take a chance on it. When I arrived at the Marquis Theatre, many audience members were wearing tropical shirts and quite a few were sipping margaritas from the lobby bar. (I reluctantly abstained so as not to dull my critical faculties.) The tropical theme of the scenic design overflowed into the auditorium. The show itself is a collage of 29 Buffett songs strung together by a simplistic, thoroughly predictable book by Greg Garcia (“My Name is Earl”) and Mike O’Malley ("Shameless"). There are sporadic efforts to be timely with mention of Sheryl Sandberg and Russian internet interference. The integration of the lyrics and the action ranges from clever to clunky. Buffett’s music has slightly more variety than I expected, but the songs became a blur long before reaching #29. The saving grace is that they are performed by an attractive, talented cast. Tully (Paul Alexander Nolan; Bright Star) is the resident singer/guitarist at a seedy island resort run by Marley (Rema Webb; The Color Purple). Brick (Eric Peterson; School of Rock), is the dim but kindhearted bartender. J.D. (Don Sparks; Take Me Out) is the one-eyed geezer who regales bar patrons with tall tales. Jamal (Andre Ward; Something Rotten!) is the dishwasher/handyman with one arm in a sling. Among the arriving guests are Tammy (Lisa Howard; It Shoulda Been You), on a bachelorette trip before her impending wedding to an unappreciative lout, and her best friend Rachel (Alison Luff; Les Miserables), an uptight environmental scientist interested in the island’s volcanic soil. By evening’s end three couples will pair off and you don’t need an advanced degree to figure out who. Walt Spangler’s (Tuck Everlasting) set and Paul Tazewell’s (Hamilton) costumes are appropriately garish. The highlight of Kelly Devine’s (Come from Away) choreography is a lively tap number for a group of insurance agent ghosts (Don’t ask!). Director Christopher Ashley (Come from Away, Memphis) has included a few nice touches that include flying effects and dancing clouds. It all goes down very easily, probably even more so with a few margaritas. I’m still not sure whether anything this mindless can fill a large theater at Broadway prices. A shorter version would be perfect as cruise ship entertainment. Running time: two hours 20 minutes including intermission.

Three Tall Women

A-

What a thrill it is to see Glenda Jackson (Marat/Sade, Strange Interlude) onstage in the Broadway debut of the 1991 play that restored Edward Albee’s reputation and won him a third Pulitzer Prize. In the role of ‘A,’ the 91- or 92-year-old woman allegedly based on Albee’s adoptive mother, she is absolutely mesmerizing. Her embodiment of the indignities of advanced age is painful to see. Her casual bigotry and spitefulness should repel us, but she commands our respect and sympathy too. She is such a forceful presence that even as superb an actor as Tony-awarded Laurie Metcalf (A Doll's House, Part 2), who plays the 52-year-old ‘B,’ her long-suffering caretaker, almost fades into the background when they share the stage. Alison Pill (The Lieutenant of Inishmore, Blackbird) as 'C,' the callow 26-year-old lawyer sent to sort out A's financial mess, has the unenviable task of holding her own against these two theatrical titans. While A’s failing health causes her daily indignities, she still has vivid reminiscences of her youth to share. Some are painful, but others are hilarious. A sudden stroke interrupts her stories and ends the first act. Almost without a pause, we see an elegantly dressed B and C discussing the A lying in bed. Suddenly A saunters in in fine attire minus the physical and mental problems she had previously displayed. We soon realize that the three women now represent A at three stages of her life, with three very different perspectives. We gain a better understanding of how she became the A of Act One. They discuss which is the happiest stage of life and unite briefly at the end. Miriam Buether's (The Children; A Doll's House, Part 2) set design creates a lavish bedroom befitting a woman of wealth. Ann Roth's (The Nance, A Delicate Balance) costumes are both attractive and helpful in defining the characters. Joe Mantello's (The Humans, Casa Valentina) direction is fluid. I do have some reservations about this production. I feel that Laurie Metcalf is miscast. While she is fine as the caretaker in Act One, I found her hard to accept as the middle-aged version of A in Act Two. While I could picture Alison Pill eventually turning into Glenda Jackson, I could not envision Laurie Metcalf as the intermediate stage of that process. I also thought it was a mistake to omit the intermission between acts. I needed a few moments to absorb what had transpired in Act One before being presented with the altered world of Act Two. Finally, I was surprised that the actor who plays A’s estranged son gets no credit in the Playbill. Admittedly, it’s a small nonspeaking role, but it is a role. My reservations should in no way discourage you from rushing to get tickets. The experience of seeing Glenda Jackson onstage is not to be missed. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

Lobby Hero

B+

Second Stage has acquired and renovated the Helen Hayes Theater, now called just The Hayes Theater, as a Broadway home for plays by living American playwrights.  As their first offering, they have chosen to revive Kenneth Lonergan’s (This Is Our Youth, The Waverly Gallery) 2001 dramedy about four blue-collar New Yorkers in 1999. Jeff (Michael Cera; This Is Our Youth) is a sad sack security guard who has the night shift in the lobby of a Manhattan apartment building. William (Brian Tyree Henry; The Book of Mormon, The Fortress of Solitude) is his boss, an African-American with a strict moral code, who has tried to mentor Jeff. Bill (Chris Evans; "Captain America") is an arrogant policeman who frequently interrupts work for a visit to a lady on the 22nd floor. Dawn (Bel Powley; Arcadia, "A Royal Night Out") is his admiring partner, a rookie still in her probationary period on the force, whom he shamefully manipulates. William is faced with a moral dilemma when his brother, accused of murder, asks him to be his alibi. Lying is against his morals, but he is reluctant to expose his brother to an incompetent lawyer and a hostile justice system. Smitten by Dawn, Jeff disabuses her of false notions about Bill, causing a rift in the partners’ relationship. When Jeff learns about William’s attempt to save his brother, he must decide whether to be a good friend or a good citizen. Lonergan has a wonderful ear for dialogue and the fine cast serves him well. The first act provides a good introduction to the characters and their conflicting goals. The second act is a bit of a letdown as the actions become a bit formulaic. The three supporting actors are excellent. Although Evans is primarily known as a comic book superhero in film and Powley’s stage experience has been primarily in England, they both seem perfectly at home playing New Yorkers. I have some reservations about Cera. The role of Jeff lies too snugly within his comfort zone and he does not bring anything fresh to it. David Rockwell’s (She Loves Me, Kinky Boots) revolving set provides the essentials of a lobby and the street outside. Paloma Young’s (Peter and the Starcatcher, Bandstand) costumes look like the appropriate uniforms of the period. Trip Cullman (Six Degrees of Separation, Punk Rock) directs with assurance. I wish that Cera brought more freshness to the role and that the second act were more satisfying. Nevertheless, there is much to enjoy and the production provides an auspicious launch for Second Stage’s Broadway expansion. Running time: two hours 25 minutes, including intermission.

A few words about The Hayes Theater: David Rockwell’s interior is generally attractive although I was less than captivated by the very blue pointillist version of a tapestry adorning the walls. I am happy to report that the legroom, at least in center orchestra, is an improvement over Second Stage’s Terry Kiser Theater. Unfortunately, the armrests once again seem to be unusually narrow, so that you feel too close to the person next to you. The stage is rather high, so I do not recommend sitting in the first few rows.

Admissions

A-

The double-edged title of this provocative new play by Joshua Harmon (Bad Jews, Significant Other) at Lincoln Center Theater refers not only to choosing college students but to acknowledging the gap between behavior and ideals. The setting is Hillcrest School, a New Hampshire prep school where Sherri Rosen-Mason (Jessica Hecht; The Price, The Assembled Parties) is dean of admissions, her husband Bill Mason (Andrew Garman; The Christians, The Moors) is headmaster and their son Charlie Luther Mason (Ben Edelman; Significant Other) is a bright senior. Sherri is proud that in her 15 years on her job she has tripled minority enrollment. In the first scene, she harshly berates Roberta (Ann McDonough; Dinner at Eight, What I Did Last Summer), a drolly passive-aggressive, older, long-time employee responsible for publishing the school bulletin for not including enough photos of minority students. We next meet her close friend Ginnie Peters (Sally Murphy; A Man of No Importance, LCT’s Carousel), a white woman married to a biracial man and mother of the unseen Perry, Charlie’s best friend since early childhood. When Yale accepts Perry but places Charlie on the deferred list, Charlie is humiliated. The 15-minute rant he delivers about the disadvantaged status of the white male besieged by affirmative action and feminism is the play’s dramatic highlight. Bill is horrified that his son has not absorbed the liberal values on which he was raised and calls him a spoiled brat. Sherri casts aside her professional views and behaves like any sympathetic mother. Her friendship with Ginnie is put to the test when Sherri does not rebuke her son for saying that Perry’s acceptance was racially motivated. Later, Charlie reflects on his situation and decides to pursue a sacrificial course of action more in accord with his parents’ values. Instead of pleasing them, this infuriates them and they do all they can to undermine his decision. Harmon has cleverly plotted the proceedings to show how noble intentions can be overruled when personal advantage is threatened. The dialogue is sharp and the balance between satire and realism is mostly successful. A few scenes run a bit longer than necessary. The cast brings the characters vividly to life vividly. Jessica Hecht avoids the mannerisms that sometimes mar her performances. Ben Edelman shows great promise. Ann McDonough is a delight. Riccardo Hernandez’s (Parade, Indecent) set combines Sherri’s office and home. The location of her desk right in the center with her home furniture around the edges suggests that her job is central to her life. I was sitting in the front row and the presence of actors shouting less than two feet away was a bit startling. Toni-Leslie James’s (Come from Away, Jitney) costumes are apt. Director Daniel Aukin (Bad Jews, 4000 Miles, Fulfillment Center) shows a real affinity for Harmon’s work, which, to me, has been improving with each new play. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

Good for Otto

I

With a Tony-awarded playwright, a stellar cast and an important topic, how could The New Group’s production of David Rabe’s play about mental health care in America possibly go wrong? Let me count the ways. While my “I” grade stands for “Incomplete” (since I couldn’t force myself to return after intermission), it could just as well stand for “inert” or “indulgent.” Dr. Michaels (Ed Harris), the chief therapist and administrator of a small town mental health clinic in northwest Connecticut, has a lot to deal with — the patients he cares for deeply, the insurance company bureaucracy he battles, and the verbal abuse he receives from the ghost of his mother (a miscast Charlotte Hope). who committed suicide when he was nine. His patients include Jane (Kate Buddeke), a woman guilt ridden over her son Jimmy’s suicide; Jerome (Kenny Mellman), a hoarder who can’t bring himself to move to his mother’s basement; and the patient the doctor is most concerned over, Frannie, (Rileigh McDonald), a 12-year-old girl who cuts herself and is subject to violent outbursts. We also meet another therapist, Evangeline (Amy Madigan), whose patients include Timothy (Mark Linn-Baker), a man on the spectrum whose social awkwardness gets him into trouble; Alex (Maulik Pancholy), a gay man who has recently come out (whom I unfortunately did not meet because he only appears in the second act); and Barnard (the wonderful F. Murray Abraham), an intellectual 77-year-old who could not rouse himself to get out of bed for several weeks. Laura Esterman doubles as Jerome’s mother and Barnard’s wife. Rhea Perlman portrays Nora, the foster mother struggling to cope with Frannie. Nancy Giles plays Marcy, the soulless case manager at the insurance company. Lily Gladstone is Denise, the clinic’s receptionist. One of the most powerful scenes in the first act is the extended monologue by the ghost of Jimmy (Michael Rabe, the playwright’s son) describing the night he shot himself. Although the scene does not really fit into the framework of the play since Jimmy was not a patient and his remarks are not shared with anyone except the audience, it was one of the few times that I felt involved. The stringing together of monologues and therapy sessions grew tiresome quickly. Dr. Michaels’s fantasy of all his patients joining to sing old favorites such as “Glow Worm” didn’t work for me. The set design by Derek McLane is appropriately drab. Director Scott Elliott made the interesting choice to seat several members of the audience onstage interspersed among the actors. Perhaps if I had stayed for the second act, my opinion of the play might have improved. Or not. Running time: three hours including intermission.

A Letter to Harvey Milk

C+

When I saw four people (Ellen M. Schwartz, Cheryl Stern, Laura I. Kramer and Jerry James) listed in my Playbill under “Book,” I started to worry whether this musical at the Acorn Theatre could have a unified vision. Although this sweet, well-meaning musical was crowned Most Promising Musical at the 2012 New York Musical Festival, my worries were justified. This schmaltzy adaptation of a short story by Leslea Newman, author of Heather Has Two Mommies, runs the gamut from Borscht Belt shtick to tenderness to tragedy. Incidentally, when I say “schmaltzy” I am being literal. An actual jar of schmaltz makes an appearance. And if you don’t know what schmaltz is, this is probably not the show for you. The three main characters are Harry Weinberg (Adam Heller; It Shoulda Been You), a retired widowed kosher butcher in San Francisco; Barbara Katsef (Julia Knitel; Beautiful), the 30ish lesbian with writer’s block who teaches a writing workshop at the local Jewish Community Center; and Frannie Weinberg (Cheryl Stern; La Cage aux Folles), whose lively meddling ghost suddenly makes an appearance when Harry enrolls in Barbara’s class. The other four actors -- Michael Bartoli (Forbidden Broadway), who looks eerily like Harvey Milk; Jeremy Greenbaum (Newsies), Aury Krebs and CJ Pawlikowski (The Book of Mormon) -- perform well in multiple roles. Frannie provides comic relief and gets the show’s best number, “What a Shanda” (rhymes with squander and Rwanda). When given an assignment to write a letter to someone who is no longer alive, Harry writes not to Frannie but to Harvey Milk, whom he met in Milk's camera store and in whom he took a fatherly interest. Barbara is touched by his letter and tells Harry how Harvey Milk’s legacy gave her the courage to come out to her not-very-Jewish parents who promptly cast her out. Harry sets out to teach her some Yiddishkeit, but becomes upset when she tells a flirting waiter at the local deli that she is a lesbian. They reconcile, but then Harry becomes even more upset when he sees a large pink triangle on her tee shirt. Eventually, he shares a long-suppressed wartime memory with her. The lyrics by the late Ellen M. Schwartz supplemented by lyrics by Cheryl Stern are often clunky. The generic music by Laura I. Kramer is enhanced by fine orchestrations by Ned Paul Ginsburg. The attractive two-level set design by David L. Arsenault (Peer Gynt) evokes typical San Francisco architecture and efficiently wheels in props for each location. Debbi Hobson’s costumes are excellent. Director Evan Pappas (Wonderful Town) keeps the action flowing smoothly. If you are expecting a play about Harvey Milk, you will be disappointed. I couldn’t escape the feeling that the show was crafted to pander to an audience that is Jewish, LGBT, or preferably both. It has its moments, but the uneven tone undermines it. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

Old Stock: A Refugee Love Story

B-

This 59E59 Theater import from Nova Scotia is hard to classify. Is it a play enhanced by songs or a song cycle interrupted by dialog? In either case, it tells the story of the arrival and early years in Canada of playwright Hannah Moscovitch’s great-grandparents, Romanian Jews who arrived in Halifax in 1908.  Chaim (Chris Weatherstone) is a rather naive romantic 19-year-old who has lost his entire family in a pogrom. Chaya (Mary Fay Coady) is a prickly, pragmatic 24-year-old who lost her husband to typhus en route to Canada. They meet briefly at Pier 21 in Halifax — Canada’s equivalent of Ellis Island — and later in Montreal. Chaim’s courtship is awkward, but Chaya eventually relents. A foolish remark by Chaim on their wedding night evokes a response from Chaya that casts a long shadow over their marriage. Their scenes together are quietly understated but quite effective. Not only are they fine actors, but Weatherstone also plays the woodwinds and Coady, the violin. Two other musicians, who do not have speaking roles, are Graham Scott on keyboard and accordion and Jamie Kronick on percussion. Last but definitely not least is Ben Caplan, who, with director Christian Barry, wrote the songs and who performs them all in the persona of The Wanderer, a top-hatted narrator/emcee/commentator. Caplan, a popular Canadian folk singer/songwriter, is both the best and the worst thing about the piece. He has a powerful distinctive voice and a strong performing presence that threatens to overwhelm the quiet story of Chaim and Chaya. His music, often klezmer-infected, is easy on the ears. I would say more about the lyrics if I could have heard them better. At least where I was sitting, they were often drowned out by the music, particularly by the percussion. One of the songs I did hear was a catalog of the many terms for intercourse, whose connection to the story was tenuous at best. I’m not a prude but Caplan’s frequent use of profanity seemed gratuitous. Caplan also offers a beautiful rendition of the Jewish prayer for the dead, whose inclusion I found manipulative. While both the drama and the music are worthy of our attention, they seem to some extent to be at war with each other. The clever set design by Luisa Adamson and Christian Barry deserves special mention. A red shipping container fills a good part of the stage when the audience arrives. It opens to reveal the five performers who return to it at play’s end. The play’s title refers to a remark by a conservative former prime minister suggesting that “old-stock Canadians” might be overwhelmed by arriving immigrants. One wonders how much has changed in 100+ years. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

Amy and the Orphans

B

Kudos to Roundabout Theatre Company for their Underground program that produces early work by promising playwrights such as Stephen Karam (Speech & Debate), Steven Levenson (The Language of Trees) and Joshua Harmon (Bad Jews), who prove worthy of a move upstairs to the Laura Pels Theatre for their next work. This new play by Lindsey Ferrentino (Ugly Lies the Bone) continues their enviable track record. Having an aunt with Down syndrome inspired her to write this tragicomedy about three adult siblings temporarily reunited after their father’s death. Jacob (Mark Blum; The Assembled Parties, Rancho Viejo), a 60-year-old middle school teacher from California, and Maggie (Debra Monk; Curtains, Steel Pier), his recently divorced sister from Chicago, meet at LaGuardia Airport on their way to pick up their younger sister Amy (Jamie Brewer; "American Horror Story") [or, at matinees, their younger brother Andy (Edward Barbanell; "The Ringer")] at the group home in Queens where she [or he] lives and proceed to their late father’s home in Montauk for his funeral. They are dreading the task of telling Amy [Andy] about the death of their father — and mother, who died some months before. Amy’s [Andy’s] protective aide Kathy (Vanessa Aspillaga; Daphne's Dive, The Clean House) insists that state regulations require that she accompany them on the trip. In interspersed scenes, we also meet Sarah (Diane Davis; Golden Boy, The Model Apartment) and Bobby (Josh McDermitt; "The Walking Dead"), a 30-ish couple at a workshop trying to do a communication exercise that might help them reach an important decision. We soon realize that these are the parents of the three siblings and the decision they are trying to reach is whether to institutionalize their Down syndrome baby. The alternation of the two plot lines in two time periods works well. The nature of the topic makes it all the more surprising that the play is basically a comedy with serious overtones. This is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, the humorous dialogue is very entertaining with lots of zingers. On the other hand, the neuroses of Jacob and Maggie flirt dangerously with sitcom humor and Kathy’s exuberance is almost overbearing. I thought the scenes between Sarah and Bobby struck the best balance between humor and pathos. There is a revelation late in the play that punctures the lighter mood. I found the transformation that it elicits in Maggie and Jacob unconvincing. A lot rests on the title character. At my performance, that was Andy and Edward Barbanell played him superbly, especially in the moving final monologue. All the roles must be catnip for actors. Rachel Hauck’s (Latin History for Morons, Hadestown) uncluttered set design facilitates scene changes. Alejo Vietti’s (Holiday Inn, Storefront Church) costumes are evocative. Director Scott Ellis (She Loves Me, Curtains) navigates the changes of time, place and mood smoothly. Even though I had reservations about its flaws while watching it, I surrendered and allowed it to both entertain and move me.  Running time: 90 minutes, no interimssion.

Edward Albee’s At Home at the Zoo: Homelife & The Zoo Story

A-

About a decade ago, Edward Albee wrote Homelife, a one-act play that is set immediately before the action of The Zoo Story. Homelife fleshes out the character of Peter (Robert Sean Leonard; The Invention of Love) so we have more insight into this seemingly complacent textbook publisher before his memorable confrontation with the volatile Jerry (Paul Sparks; Buried Child, Blackbird) in Central Park. In addition, it lets us meet Peter’s wife Ann (Katie Finneran; Noises Off, Promises, Promises) and witness the communication difficulties in their mostly happy marriage. The two plays were presented together in 2007 at Second Stage under the title Peter and Jerry. Albee later decreed that neither play could be presented without the other. Now, as part of Signature Theatre’s Albee series, they are back under the clumsy title Edward Albee’s At Home at the Zoo: Homelife & The Zoo Story. It is hard to imagine a production that makes a stronger case for the conjoined plays. All three actors are superb in their roles. The semiabstract set design by Andrew Lieberman (Fulfillment Center) concentrates our attention on the actors. Leonard turns reacting into an art form. Finneran’s Ann is a sympathetic presence. Sparks’s Jerry is mesmerizing, deftly building the sense of menace. Even if you know what’s coming, you will be shocked. My only reservations are about Homelife. On the one hand, it fills out the evening nicely. On the other hand, my feelings about it are quite mixed. I find the talk of hacked-off breasts, shrinking genitalia and sexual attack downright unpleasant and cannot imagine the play standing alone. However, as a warmup to the main event, it serves its purpose and the main event is not to be missed. Lila Neugebauer, who has a reputation for expertly directing plays with large ensembles (The Wolves, The Antipodes, Everybody, The Wayside Motor Inn), demonstrates that she can also superbly handle something more intimate. It’s a bracing evening. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes including intermission.

The Low Road

B

Five years after its premiere at the Royal Court Theatre in London, this picaresque epic by Bruce Norris (The Pain and the Itch, Clybourne Park) has arrived in New York at the Public Theater. Jim Trewitt (Norris has changed the last name of the lead character from Trumpett so audiences would not think he was writing with our president in mind), played by Chris Perfetti (Six Degrees of Separation, Everybody), could be a mashup of Tom Jones, Candide and Michael Milken. Left on the doorstep of a brothel as a baby, he has been raised by the brothel owner Mrs. Trewitt (Harriet Harris, ever a delight; The Roads to Home, It Shouda Been You) to believe that he is the illegitimate son of George Washington. At a tender age, he is exposed to the works of Adam Smith and decides to make the practice of free-market capitalism his life’s mission. Smith, by the way, drolly personified by Daniel Davis (Wrong Mountain, Noises Off), is our narrator. In his ruthless pursuit of wealth, Trewitt defrauds the prostitutes to build a stake for his future dealings. He purchases an educated slave, John Blanke (the charismatic Chukwudi Imuji; Hamlet and King Lear at the Public), who had been the ward and intended heir of a British nobleman. The two spend some time in a New England religious community where there is a spirited debate about the relative merits of altruism and selfishness. Trewitt is captured by Hessian mercenaries and threatened with execution. We are suddenly diverted to the very recent past where a blue-ribbon panel is bloviating at a Davos-like conference not long after the financial meltdown of 2007-8. After their session is rudely interrupted, we return to the story of Jim Trewitt who, of course, has not been executed and has survived to pursue his career under the patronage of Isaac Low (an amusing Kevin Chamberlain; Dirty Blonde, The Ritz), a wealthy New York businessman. His financial shenanigans closely resemble the maneuvers that brought about our recent collapse. Will he get his comeuppance? I’ll let you guess. While the play has lots of amusing moments, the targets of satire sometimes seem too easy to hit. The picaresque tale and the cautionary economics lesson do not cohere smoothly. Nevertheless, it is quite entertaining and I will never complain when a production offers the opportunity to see such stalwart actors as Harriet Harris, Kevin Chamberlain and Daniel Davis. While Chris Perfetti is fine as Trewitt, I would have loved the chance to see Johnny Flynn in the role he originated. Alas, Mr. Flynn is otherwise occupied in the cast of Hangmen at the Atlantic Theater and has not yet mastered the ability to be two places at once. The other members of the 17-person cast, most of whom play multiple roles, are fine. The set design by David Korins (War Paint, Hamilton) is elegantly flexible and the costumes by Emily Rebholz (Mary Jane, Indecent) add a lot to the production. Director Michael Greif (Dear Evan Hansen, A Parallelogram) directs with confident control of a complicated work. While it’s not up there with Norris’s finest work, it offers enough to enjoy to make the experience worthwhile. Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including intermission.