Frankie & Johnny in the Clair de Lune

B

This limited-run Broadway revival of Terrence McNally’s 1987 romantic dramedy has been cast with two fine actors with big box office appeal, Audra McDonald (Master Class, Carousel, Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar & Grill) as Frankie and Michael Shannon (Killer Joe, Bug, Long Day’s Journey into Night) as Johnny. To see them together as a 40-something waitress and short-order cook on a memorable first date is an opportunity that is hard to resist. The setting is Frankie’s one-room Hell’s Kitchen apartment and the time is the 1980’s. As the play opens, they are in the final throes of vigorous sex. What Frankie regards as just an enjoyable toss in the hay is regarded by Johnny as the start of a serious romance. During most of the first act, Johnny very persistently tries to win Frankie over. Late in the act, he calls the music station they are listening to and asks the host to play the most romantic piece ever written. They are gazing at the full moon and listening to the titular piece as the first act ends. Part of me wishes that McNally (Love! Valour! Compassion!, Master Class) had ended the play there. The second act is repetitious and unruly and stretches the evening out too far. While I have unlimited admiration for Audra McDonald, her glamour and melodious voice work against her playing the beat-down Frankie. Michael Shannon is very much in his element. I thought they captured the play’s humor better than its pathos. I did not like the gimmicky set by Richard Hernandez (Indecent, The Gin Game) in which the backdrop is the exterior of the apartment building rather than the interior walls of Frankie’s apartment. The costumes by Emily Rebholz (Indecent, Dear Evan Hansen) do not grab attention. Arin Arbus’s (The Winter’s Tale, The Skin of Our Teeth) direction is a bit sluggish. The play would benefit from a 15-minute trim. I was lucky enough to have seen the 2002 revival with Edie Falco and Stanley Tucci. For me, that version remains the gold standard. Those who have not seen the play before will probably enjoy this production unless they are uncomfortable with nudity and rough language. Running time: two hours 20 minutes including intermission.

Little Women

C+

Keeping up with Kate Hamill’s recreations of classic novels has been a case of diminishing returns. Her take on Sense & Sensibility with Bedlam was sheer joy and set the bar very high. I missed Vanity Fair but was disappointed in Pride and Prejudice for lacking the inventiveness of her earlier Austen adaptation. For me, this reworking of Alcott, in a Primary Stages production at the Cherry Lane Theatre, is another downward step. Hamill’s version is almost bipolar, with a first act that is basically faithful to Alcott but a second act that is more Hamill than Alcott. She significantly alters the character and fate of Jo, omits a key character, manages to make Amy completely unsympathetic and drops an interesting thread relating to Laurie’s sexuality. On the plus side, the play provides meaty roles for two exciting young actors — Kristolyn Lloyd (Blue Ridge) as Jo and Nate Mann (fresh out of Juilliard) as Laurie. Her sisters Meg, Beth and Amy are played respectively by Hamill, Paola Sanchez Abreu (The Wolves) and Carmen Zilles (Small Mouth Sounds). Hamill’s Meg was disappointing, Abreu’s Beth was serviceable and Zilles’s Amy was relentlessly annoying. Michael Crane (Gloria) is fine as Brooks and Dashwood but inspired as a parrot (more about that later). John Lenartz (Inherit the Wind), who also plays Mr. Laurence, and Maria Elena Ramirez (Fish in the Dark), who also plays Aunt March, are solid as the girls’ parents and Ellen Harvey (Present Laughter) is fine as Hannah and Mrs. Mingott. Except for the fact that Jo is dressed in men’s clothes from the beginning, the first act stays fairly close to the book. It is wildly uneven, with scenes ranging from touching to leaden. I doubt there were many dry eyes in the house when the March family is reunited at Christmas. After intermission, things go seriously astray. A scene for Aunt March, Jo and Amy includes the parrot, which is good for a few laughs, but seems completely incongruous with everything else. Amy’s act of spite against Jo, invented by Hamill, was hard to believe. As in the book, I found it difficult to grasp how someone attracted to Jo could also be attracted to Amy. The extra burden of feminism placed on Jo essentially changes Alcott’s message. The two-level set by Mikiko Suzuki MacAdams fills in the framework of the March home with a minimum of furnishings. Valerie Therese Bart’s period costumes are fine. Sarna Lapine’s (Sunday in the Park with George) direction occasionally lets scenes lag. If you love Alcott’s novel, you will probably enjoy the first act. If you are expecting an experience as bracing as one of Hamill’s Austen adaptations, you will probably be disappointed. Running time: two hours five minutes, including intermission.

Happy Talk

C-

Playwright Jesse Eisenberg (The Revisionist, The Spoils) does not seem to have had a clear goal in mind for this disappointing work. What begins as a comedic portrait of a totally self-absorbed suburban woman turns into something much darker. Along the way, we get a picture of the circumscribed lives of undocumented immigrants and a screed against our materialistic society. The woman in question is the needy Lorraine (Susan Sarandon; Exit the King), who slakes her bottomless thirst for attention by appearing in musical productions at her local Jersey JCC. Her ailing husband Bill (Daniel Oreskes; Russian Transport; Oslo) parks himself in an armchair with a Civil War history book and rarely speaks. Her declining mother Ruthie, confined to the downstairs bedroom, has been cared for by Ljuba (Marin Ireland; Blue Ridge, reasons to be pretty), an undocumented Serbian immigrant who would like to find a green-card marriage so she can bring her daughter to the US. While Ljuba’s alleged job is to look after Ruthie, she spends most of her time feeding Lorraine’s need for attention, almost like a surrogate daughter. Lorraine hatches the idea of fixing Ljuba up with a cast member from her current show. That turns out to be Ronny (Nico Santos; “Crazy Rich Asians”), who is playing Lt. Cable to Lorraine’s Bloody Mary in “South Pacific.” (Now there’s a production I’d like to see!) The fact that Ronny is flamboyantly gay and has a live-in boyfriend does not deter Lorraine. Ronny’s boyfriend has lost his job and is fine with going along with the fake marriage to get the $15,000 that Ljuba has taken years to save up. We learn midway through the play that Lorraine and Bill actually have an alienated daughter Jenny (Tedra Millan; Present Laughter, The Wolves), who, against all logic, breaks into the house in the middle of the night, allegedly to say goodbye to her grandmother before taking off for Costa Rica where she and her new husband hope to start a poultry farm. Jenny is such a nasty piece of work that one almost feels sorry for Lorraine. When Ljuba and Ronny begin to hang out without including Lorraine, she feels neglected. The final scene has a double-whammy, which seems partially unearned. While it is a pleasure to see both Sarandon and Ireland together onstage, the truth is that neither is ideally cast. The two men and Ms. Millan come off better in their roles. Derek McLane’s (The True, Burn This) set is the ultimately bland suburban living room, enlivened only by posters of Lorraine’s previous shows. Clint Ramos’s (The True, Violet) costumes are apt. Scott Elliott’s (The True, Good for Otto) direction lets scenes drag a bit. It’s sporadically entertaining, but it ultimately disappoints. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

Continuity

C-

Don’t be fooled by the teaser in the ads for this new play by Bess Wohl (Small Mouth Sounds) at MTC’s Stage II. While it contains no outright falsehoods, it subtly misleads by making the plot sound far more interesting than it turns out to be. A movie about climate change is being shot, for tax reasons, in the hot New Mexico desert, although it is set in a frigid clime. Maria (Rosal Colon; Between Riverside and Crazy), the film's director, a Sundance favorite, has been entrusted with her first feature film. Although she is nominally in charge, the studio has sent Caxton (Darren Goldstein; The Little Foxes), a seasoned screenwriter, to the set to turn her small, serious film into something more commercial. Caxton also happens to be Maria’s former lover; furthermore, after a fearsome diagnosis, he must face his own mortality. The three actors we meet in the scene that we see over and over and over are ecoterrorist George (Alex Hurt; Cardinal, Placebo), played by dumb hunk Jake; Nicole (Megan Ketch; Cry It Out), a former love played by prima donna and recovering coke addict Eve, who is out to stop him from detonating a bomb that will set off a huge tsunami; and Lily (Jasmine Batchelor; The River), the scientist George is determined to kill, played by African-English actress Anna. For comic relief, we have a production assistant Max (Garcia; upcoming “Tales of the City”) who valiantly copes with various disasters and conflicting requests. We also occasionally hear from the grip (Curran Connor; Dido of Idaho). Larry (Max Baker; The Village Bike), the film’s science adviser, brings everyone down by stating his opinion that the film is too little too late and part of the problem rather than the solution. The play offers no new information about climate change to justify itself; nor does it contain anything but tired cliches about the absurdities of Hollywood moviemaking. Adding a feminist twist for today’s milieu doesn’t improve it. I would love to know what talented director Rachel Chavkin (Hadestown; Natasha, Pierre…) saw in this material that made her want to undertake it. Adam Rigg’s (The House That Will Not Stand) scenic design is effective, as are Brenda Abbandandolo’s (Octet) costumes. It was a fitfully entertaining, but ultimately disappointing evening. Running time: one hour 40 minutes, no intermission.

Octet

B-

Dave Malloy is the first musical writer to be included in Signature Theatre Company’s residency program and this is Signature’s first musical. Malloy (Preludes; Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812) is responsible for the music, lyrics, book and vocal arrangements. I suppose that success in three out of four is still admirable. The relative failure, in my humble opinion, is the book, which I found confusing, uneven, rambling and a bit pretentious. A two-sided insert in the program gives an eclectic list of Malloy’s inspirations. The eight marvelous singing actors (Adam Bashian, Kim Blanck, Starr Busby, Alex Gibson, Justin Gregory Lopez, J.D. Mollison, Margo Seibert and Kuhoo Verma) play members of a support group for internet addicts cryptically called “Friends of Saul,“ the name of the mysterious group recruiter that none of them has met. Their addictions include gaming, porno, dating apps, venting on sociopolitical sites, out-of-control information seeking and watching videos. In an extended detour during the second half, there is a section about the effects of the possible appearance of the deity on a group of scientists. Tarot also plays a role — each of the 12 songs is linked to a tarot card. (My confusion about the link to tarot was increased by the fact that I initially misheard the word as terror.) In only one of the songs does the internet play a positive role by linking a group member to someone just like her. For me the side trips into mysticism and spirituality detracted from rather than added to the book’s strength. The book’s shortcomings are, in large measure, balanced by the strength of the music, sung by excellent singers in creative a cappella arrangements. There are five group numbers and seven extended solos. The scenic design by Amy Bloom (Thom Pain) and Brittany Vasta (Happy Birthday Wanda June) realistically recreates a church social hall complete with the bingo equipment that must be stowed by the actors before the session begins. Brenda Abbandandolo’s (Continuity) costumes do not call attention to themselves. Much credit is due to music supervisor/director Or Matias (Natasha, Pierre…, Preludes). Annie Tippe’s (Ghost Quartet) direction tries too hard to enliven the proceedings. In short, I admired the show more than I enjoyed it. Honesty compels me to report that younger members of the audience responded with vociferous enthusiasm. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission. 

Enter Laughing; The Musical

A-

When Carl Reiner’s semi-autobiographical novel was adapted for the stage by Joseph Stein in 1963, it ran for a year. Stein (Fiddler on the Roof) also wrote the book when the play was turned into a musical in 1976 with music and lyrics by Stan Daniels (Same Time Next Year) under the title So Long, 174th Street. Surprisingly, the musical flopped, closing after only 16 performances. Fortunately York Theatre Company revived it with a new title and some additional material by Stuart Ross (Forever Plaid) in a production that was such a hit they revived it twice more. The current production, their fourth, kicks off York’s 50th anniversary season with a bang. As with many York musicals, it makes up for very modest production values with lots of enthusiasm, flair, and excellent casting. As David Kolowitz, Chris Dwan (The Old Boy) is hilarious. His version of the title scene had me laughing so hard I thought I would injure myself. David Schramm (Other People’s Money), looking like late Orson Welles, is perfection as Marlowe, the head of the theater company, and Farah Alvin (It Shoulda Been You) is wonderful as his amorous daughter Angela. Dana Costello (Finding Neverland) and Allie Trimm (13: The Musical) are fine as Miss B and Wanda respectively, the other two women in David’s life. Alison Fraser (The Secret Garden) and Robert Picardo (Gemini) are fine as David’s parents, as are Ray DeMattis (Little Shop of Horrors) as his boss and Joe Veale (Altar Boys) as his pal Marvin. As Pike, Marlowe’s assistant, Raji Ahsan (My Heart Is in the East) moves props with balletic grace. The actor playing the small role of Harry Hamburger is listed as Magnes Jarmo, which turns out to be an anagram for James Morgan, York’s artistic director. Jennifer Paulson-Lee (You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown) manages to create some clever dance numbers that fit York’s tiny stage. The set, by Morgan, makes good use of vintage commercial signs to suggest The Bronx in the 1930s. The period costumes by Tyler M. Holland (Christmas in Hell) are a visual treat. Stuart Ross’s direction rarely lets the pace flag. The trio of piano, bass and drums is fine for the relatively small York space. Some of the songs are quite clever; I especially liked “It’s Like,” “Boy, Oh Boy” and “The Butler’s Song.” If you are looking for an enjoyable escape from the world’s cares, you will find it here. Running time: two hours 25 minutes including intermission.

Curse of the Starving Class

C-

In my review of the recent revival of True West, I observed that “over the years, the plays of Sam Shepard have held little appeal for me. For whatever reason, I seem to have little affinity for his sensibility.” Alas, there was nothing about Signature Theatre’s revival of this early Shepard play that led me to change my mind. This dark absurdist portrait of a family in rural California lacks even one character that I could root for. Weston (David Warshofsky; Biloxi Blues, Blue Window), the father, is an abusive alcoholic. Ella (Maggie Siff; A Lie of the Mind, Frank’s Home), the self-absorbed mother, is short on maternal instincts. Son Wesley (Gilles Geary; Hangmen) is sullen and nasty. Daughter Emma (Lizzy Declement; Lost Girls), newly arrived at puberty, is smart but volatile. To make any generalizations about the failing American dream on the basis of this family is not profitable. Shepard has burdened the play with too many metaphor-laden monologues. Director Terry Kinney (The Price, reasons to be pretty) has combined the first two acts into one, which makes for a long 90 minutes before intermission. The final act is shorter, grosser and more violent. As drunk Weston, David Warshofsky is far more persuasive than he is as sober Weston. Maggie Siff, whose performances on television (“Mad Men, Billions”) radiate intelligence and sophistication, is miscast as Ella. Gilles Geary and Lizzy Declement are quite strong as their children; both deserve a special prize for what they must endure — being covered head-to-toe with mud for her and a gross pig-out as well as a nude scene for him. For reasons unknown, the director has cast the role of Sgt. Malcolm with a tiny woman with a Latin accent (Flora Diaz; Playing God, Seven Spots on the Sun). Andrew Rothenberg is appropriately slippery as lawyer Taylor and Esau Pritchett (A Free Man of Color) is good as the blustery bar owner Ellis. Rothenberg and Pritchett also appear briefly as thugs in the final act. The lamb is cute. Julian Crouch (Hedwig, Head Over Heels) has designed an oversize kitchen that undergoes an amazing transformation in the play’s first minute that could serve as a metaphor for the entire play. For me it was downhill from there. Sarah J. Holden’s (The Price, reasons to be pretty) costumes suit their characters. Director Kinney shows an affinity for Shepard. If you are a Shepard fan, you may well enjoy yourself; if not, it may be a long 2 1/2 hours (including intermission).

BLKS

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Ain't No Mo'

B+

I am sorry that I was unable to score a ticket to Jordan E. Cooper’s funny, fierce satire about racism in America earlier in in its run at The Public Theater so I could have urged you to see it. Since it closes on May 5, I won’t take up much of your time with my remarks about it except to say that this 24-year-old recent graduate of The New School’s College of Performing Arts is a playwright to watch. 35 years after George C. Wolfe’s “The Colored Museum,” Cooper has written — and stars in — this collection of scenes from the African-American experience that are loosely tied together by the notion that all American blacks have, sometime in the not very distant future, been offered free one-way plane tickets to Dakar. Cooper plays Peaches, the assertive gate agent for Flight 1619, the final flight to Africa. The other five actors — Fedna Jacquet, Marchant Davis, Simone Recasner, Ebony Marshall-Oliver and Crystal Lucas-Perry — all fine, are unfortunately only identified as passengers 1 through 5, so it is difficult to single anyone out for special praise. They assume many roles in a series of scenes that take place in locations as varied as a funeral, an abortion clinic, the set of a “Housewives”-style reality show, the dining room of a wealthy assimilated black family and a prison. As often happens in a collection of this sort, the quality of the scenes varies widely, with more hits than misses. Even the weaker ones usually make up in energy what they lack in coherence. The scenic design by Kimie Nishikawa (The Light), the costumes by Montana Levi Blanco (Daddy) and the hair, wig and makeup design by Cookie Jordan all enhance the production substantially. Director Stevie Walker-Webb occasionally loses momentum near the end of the play. I was glad I caught it before it closed and look forward to seeing what Mr. Cooper does next. Running time: one hour 50 minutes; no intermission.

Tootsie

B+

The tag line in the ads for the Broadway adaptation of this 1982 film is “The Comedy Musical.” The inversion of the usual term is apt, because this is one of the few musicals more likely to be remembered for its savvy book by Robert Horn (13 The Musical, “Designing Women”) than for its competent, but not stellar, score by David Yazbek (The Band’s Visit, The Full Monty). It’s not that the score is bad — Yazbek displays his usual facility for matching song to character and his lyrics are often clever — but there are no songs that jump out as something you are likely to want to hear again very soon. The book, on the other hand, very cleverly updates the basic story to the age of #MeToo, successfully changes the setting from the world of soap operas to the Broadway stage, and regularly provides a barrel of laughs. The strong book is matched by a superb cast and first-rate production values. Santino Fontana (Cinderella, Sons of the Prophet) deftly negotiates the dual role of Michael Dorsey/Dorothy Michaels, singing well in both ranges. Lilli Cooper (SpongeBob SquarePants, Spring Awakening) is lovely as Julie Nichols, Dorothy’s co-star and Michael’s love interest. Sarah Stiles (Hand to God, On a Clear Day…) pulls out all the stops as Michael’s neurotic former girlfriend Sandy Lester and Andy Grotelueschen (Cyrano de Bergerac, Into the Woods) is droll as Michael’s roommate Jeff Slater. John Behlmann (Significant Other, Journey’s End) is a riot as the buff but dim Max Van Horn who takes a shine to Dorothy. The always enjoyable Julie Halston (On the Town, Hairspray) scores as the wealthy producer Rita Marshall, who promotes Dorothy’s rise. Michael McGrath (The Front Page, She Loves Me) makes the most of the small but important role of Stan Fields, Michael’s agent. Reg Rogers (The Royal Family, Holiday) is wonderful as Ron Carlisle, the director who has blackballed Michael but is forced to work with Dorothy. The choreography by Denis Jones (Holiday Inn, Honeymoon in Vegas) is lively with a memorable faux-Fosse number that we gratefully get to see a second time during the curtain call. David Rockwell’s (Kiss Me Kate!, She Loves Me) attractive, flexible sets are beautifully lit by Donald Holder (The Lion King) and William Ivey Long’s (Prince of Broadway, It Shoulda Been You) costumes are marvelous. Scott Ellis (She Loves Me, On the 20th Century) directs with aplomb. The implausible progression from the awful show “Juliet’s Curse” to the hit “Juliet’s Nurse” is fun to watch. There is so much to admire that one regrets that the score is not up to the high level of everything else. Nevertheless, it offers a very entertaining evening with far more laughs than you can expect from today’s typical musical. Running time: two hours 35 minutes including intermission.