To launch the Griffin Theater, the 500-seat black-box in The Shed at Hudson Yards, Artistic Director Alex Poots has commissioned a theatrical piece by Canadian poet and classicist Anne Carson that conflates the stories of Helen of Troy and Marilyn Monroe. Ms. Carson calls it a melologue — a monologue that alternates speech and song. Actor Ben Whishaw (The Crucible) and singer Renée Fleming (Carousel) are the cast. The play opens on a large nondescript office at night. A nervous man arrives, unpacks his briefcase and posts some photos of Ms. Monroe on an easel. A radio informs us that it is New Year’s Eve 1963. The man is soon joined by a matronly woman who is apparently a stenographer. Why they are working at that hour on a holiday is the least of the play’s puzzles. The man begins to dictate a script, complete with punctuation. In his play, he follows Euripides’s version of Helen, in which only a cloud representing her actually goes to Troy. The man occasionally interrupts the loose narrative with chapters from a history of war, from which one take-away is “it’s a disaster to be a girl.” After remaining silent for roughly the first half-hour, the woman begins to sing fragments that often recapitulate the man’s remarks. Unfortunately Paul Clark’s score does not give Fleming’s luscious voice much chance to shine although there is an occasional vocal thrill. We encounter Truman Capote (as impersonated by Monroe), Pearl Bailey and Fritz Lang, among others. Husband Arthur Miller is referred to as the king of Sparta and New York. Persephone is also mentioned. As the story, such as it is, unfolds, the man paints his nails, applies false eyelashes, gradually strips to his underwear, puts on a bustier, high heels and finally a blonde wig and the famous dress from “The Seven Year Itch.” As he does so, he pops pills, drinks champagne and eventually curls up on a desk. All this might have been more interesting if it had been more visible. Alex Eales’s set, which Anthony Doran has lit by only a few desk lamps and an easel light, is so dark that one never really gets a good look at the actors. Early reports said that many audience members left during the play. I only saw two. One reason might be that the theater is so completely dark that it is dangerous to try to leave. I cannot comment on Katie Mitchell’s direction because I have no idea what the author was aiming for. As to Sussie Juhlin-Wallén’s costumes, I could barely see them. All in all, it was a dreary evening. Mr. Poots, who was artistic director of Park Avenue Armory, intends to make The Shed a home for adventurous commissioned works. I wish him well. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.
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