We're Only Alive for a Short Amount of Time

B

Don’t let the lengthy and unhelpful title of David Cale’s latest performance piece at The Public Theater deter you from seeing it. Cale (The Total Bent, Harry Clarke) serves as playwright, lyricist, co-composer (with Matthew Dean Marsh), and performer of this autobiographical monologue interspersed with songs that retells moments from his formative years in Luton, “the ugliest city in England.” His alcoholic father and thwarted mother constantly fought, leading the young David to take refuge in breeding tropical birds and listening to pop music, while his younger brother Simon mostly stayed in his room building model airplanes. Their shady grandfather did business with the notorious Kray twins. Cale dreamed of escaping to America to become a singer before he reached 21. A shocking event when he was 16 changed all their lives. Without any change of costume, Cale convincingly transforms into each family member. Despite the sensational nature of some of the material, Cale, rather remarkably, maintains his calm demeanor. He is a masterful storyteller. His songs impressed me less; they sometimes did not seem to arise organically from the moment and the lyrics were often annoyingly repetitive. The music was well-played by an ensemble of six behind a scrim. The set by Kevin Depinet is a black square with a stool and a mic, unadorned except for antique birdcages that disappear into the ceiling and, during an episode about Simon, are briefly replaced by model airplanes. Director Robert Falls (The Jacksonian, Shining City) shows a talent for this material. For me, the piece was most affecting as a touching love letter to Cale’s late mother. I was surprised that the Anspacher Theater was far from full for the performance I attended. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

The Mountains Look Different

B-

Jonathan Bank, Mint Theater Company’s artistic director and excavator of neglected plays, has unearthed yet another play that was a hit in Dublin but never made to America. This time it is an 1948 melodrama by Micheal mac Liammoir, co-founder of the illustrious Gate Theater, about Bairbre (Brenda Meaney; Indian Ink, Incognito), a woman from the west of Ireland who returns home, newly married, after 13 hard years in London. Her naive husband Tom (Jesse Pennington; Uncle Vanya, Bootycandy), whom she truly seems to love, is unaware that, having no skill for domestic work, she was forced to support herself as a prostitute. Tom’s crusty father Martin (Con Horgan; The Beauty Queen of Leenane), a farmer, takes an immediate dislike to Bairbre and claims to have met her before. The bad blood between the two of them escalates to a dangerous level. The action is set on St. John’s Eve, a pre-Christian fertility invocation marked by building bonfires. We also meet Bairbre’s uncle Matthew Conroy (Paul O’Brien; Is Life Worth Living?); Bartley (Daniel Marconi), Martin’s impudent servant; Bridin (McKenna Quigley Harrington), a young girl; Maire (Cynthia Mace; Skintight), an old woman with a troubled grandson, Batty Wallace (Liam Forde; Much Ado about Nothing); and a priest (Ciaran Byrne; The Dead 1904). After a solid first act, things go somewhat awry after intermission. The introduction of four new characters late in the play dissipates the claustrophobia that was building up. The drama rapidly turns into melodrama. The strongest reason to see the play is the riveting performance by Ms. Meaney. One feels her pain. The other two principals do not fare as well. Mr. Horgan is insufficiently menacing as Martin. Mr. Pennington does not seem to have a grasp of Tom’s character; his movements are strangely crablike and he barely opens his mouth when he speaks. Vicki R. Davis’s (The Suitcase under the Bed) opening set of a stone farmhouse exterior with a mountain vista in the background turns around to reveal the main room of the farmhouse. Andrea Varga’s (The Suitcase under the Bed) costumes fit the characters very well. The lighting design by Christian DeAngelis (Hinkle Wakes) is an asset to the production. Director Aidan Redmond’s direction seemed choppy at times. The play is an interesting curiosity but not a must-see. Running time: two hours including intermission.

NOTE: The program contains an extended note on the life of the author that make him seem worthy of his own biographical drama. In addition to co-founding the Gate, he was esteemed as an actor, playwright, set designer and painter. He and Gate co-founder Hilton Edwards were prominent as a gay couple long before that was fashionable or even legal. Finally, 12 years after his death, it was revealed that the ultra-Irish mac Liammoir was actually Alfred Willmore, an Englishman whose love of things Irish led him to transform himself into an Irishman. 

Toni Stone

C+

It’s an interesting coincidence that “Toni Stone” and “A Strange Loop” have arrived in New York within a few weeks of each other because in some ways they form a pair of bookends. Both shows have a talented all-black ensemble that includes one woman and several men, with the men playing a variety of characters of diverse age, race and gender. Both have protagonists who are surrounded by unsupportive people. Both shows are enhanced by first-rate choreography. Both have lead actors who are giving a memorable performance. However, while the hero of “A Strange Loop” has trouble finding a clear goal, the title character in “Toni Stone,” a Roundabout commission, knows exactly what she wants — to be a professional baseball player. Based on a biography by Martha Ackmann, the show depicts moments in her interesting life from childhood in the Twin Cities to her years with the Indianapolis Clowns, the Negro League team where she replaced Hank Aaron. Playwright Lydia R. Diamond (Smart People, Stick Fly) tells Stone’s story out of sequence. At the beginning, she is already with the Clowns. The backward and forward movement from that point does not always make clear what period we are observing. The other actors play her teammates as well as her priest, a racist coach, a friendly prostitute and her much older suitor, among others. The play vividly captures what it was like to be a Negro League ballplayer in the racist 1950’s when the league was struggling to hold onto an audience as its best players were hired away by major league teams. Its biggest flaw is that there is far more telling than showing. There are many long monologues, particularly in the first act, that slow the momentum. Fortunately, after intermission the pace picks up and the anecdotes, while sometimes only loosely connected, are more interesting. The impressive April Matthis (Fairview, Antlia Pneumatica) makes Stone a sympathetic character. The supporting cast — Eric Berryman (The B-Side), Harry Blanks (Jitney), Phillip James Brannon (JUNK, Log Cabin), Daniel J. Bryant, Jonathan Burke (Choir Boy), Toney Goins, Kenn E. Head and Ezra Knight (Mean Girls) — is uniformly strong. A stylized baseball scene choreographed by Camille A. Brown (Choir Boy, Once on This Island) is a knockout. The set by Riccardo Hernandez (Frankie & Johnny…, Indecent) is dominated by five banks of stadium lights that extend into the auditorium and three sections of bleacher seats. Dede Ayite’s (By the Way, Meet Vera Stark; BLKS) costumes are apt. The lighting design by Allen Lee Hughes (Intimate Apparel, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolff) was a bit hyperactive. Pam MacKinnon’s (Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolff, Clybourne Park) direction is assured. As social history, I found the play informative; as theater, it was less than compelling. If you are a baseball fan or a history buff, you are more likely to enjoy it. Running time: two hours 15 minutes including intermission.

Long Lost

C-

There seems to be something about Manhattan Theatre Club’s Stage I at City Center that inspires scenic designers. Some of the finest set designs I have seen in New York have been at that theater. For this production John Lee Beatty (Rabbit Hole, Junk) does not disappoint; the marvelous set he has designed for Donald Margulies’s (Dinner with Friends, Sight Unseen) new play has three revolves and creates four distinct attractive environments. Unfortunately, the “magic” effect of MTC’s Stage I on set designers does not seem to apply to playwrights. I have seen too many clunkers with great sets here, including this one. Margulies offers yet another version of the story of the black sheep returning to his family and stirring up trouble. In this instance the black sheep is Billy (Lee Tergesen; Rapture, Blister, Burn), a drug addict and alcoholic whose many misdeeds include “accidentally” burning down the family farmhouse with his parents inside. Billy turns up unannounced in the New York office of his younger brother David (Kelly AuCoin; The Wayside Motor Inn, “Billions”), a prosperous consultant married to Molly (Annie Parisse; Clybourne Park, Becky Shaw), an ex-lawyer who now runs a shelter for victims of domestic abuse. Their son Jeremy (Alex Wolff; All the Fine Boys) is home from Brown for Christmas. David’s first impulse is to kick Billy out of his office, but Billy tells him that he is dying of cancer and has no place to go. David reluctantly brings him home to their plush Manhattan co-op, much to the chagrin of Molly. Billy tries to establish rapport with Jeremy. Secrets are revealed, some of which are surprising, others not so much. The final scene takes us in an unexpected direction, but by then it is too late. The characters are so underwritten that it is hard to care much about their fate. The actors do a respectable job trying to breathe life into their roles. Daniel Sullivan’s (The Little Foxes, Good People) direction is fluid, but even he cannot elevate trite material. The costumes by Toni-Leslie James (Bernhardt/Hamlet, Come from Away) befit the characters well. Enjoy the sets; there’s not much else to engage you. Running time: one hour 35 minutes; no intermission.

A Strange Loop

A-

Playwrights Horizons goes a long way toward redeeming a lackluster season with this final offering, a co-production with Page 73 Productions, an organization devoted to giving New York professional debuts to talented early-career playwrights. Michael R. Jackson (White Girl in Danger), who clearly falls into that category, has written one of the most original, unruly, affecting, outrageously theatrical shows of the season. Jackson’s protagonist is Usher, a 25-year-old overweight, gay, black man who supports his dream to write musicals by ushering at The Lion King. The musical he is struggling to write is about a 25-year-old overweight, gay, black man who supports his dream to write musicals by ushering at The Lion King. Thus the loop of the title. We witness the many roots of Usher’s self-loathing and the desperation to which it can lead. In one ironic twist, the negative prejudice he encounters when seeking sex is mainly from blacks, while he is an object of desire from whites who crave interracial sex. All Usher’s mother wants from him is to write a gospel play in the style of Tyler Perry, whose work he loathes. There is not really a linear plot; instead we get a stylized, occasionally metatheatrical, examination of Usher’s psyche. The show is often hysterically funny, but Usher’s pain cannot be suppressed and breaks through powerfully from time to time. Larry Owens (Gigantic) is no less than magnificent as Usher; he gives his all and then some. The six marvelous actors — Antwayn Hopper (The Loophole), James Jackson, Jr. (The Black-Ups), L. Morgan Lee (Jesus Christ Superstar), John-Michael Lyles (This Ain’t No Disco), John-Andrew Morrison (The Missionary) and Jason Veasey (The Lion King)—who share the stage with him are only identified as Thoughts 1 through 6 so I unfortunately can’t single out any of them for special praise. The music is lively; the lyrics are so dense that it is occasionally difficult to catch everything at first hearing. The production pulls out all the stops. Arnulfo Maldonado’s (I Was Most Alive with You) initially unimpressive set undergoes a series of amazing transformations. Montana Levi Bianco’s (Ain’t No Mo) multiple costumes for each actor are a treat to see. Raja Feather Kelly’s choreography (Funnyhouse of a Negro, Fairview) adds a lot to the production. Director Stephen Brackett (Be More Chill, Buyer & Cellar) skillfully holds everything together. This was certainly one of the most exciting and original shows I saw this year. Would that Playwrights Horizons achieved these heights more often! Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission. NOTE: If you are uncomfortable with rough language and simulated sodomy, this is most definitely not the show for you.

Playwrights Horizons has provided a trailer on their website. Here’s a link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SgHEnOb9B9Q

Life Sucks.

C-

Playwright Aaron Posner has built a reputation adapting other authors’ works. Among those to have received the Posner treatment are Chaim Potok (I saw My Name Is Asher Lev several years ago and enjoyed it), Ken Kesey, Mark Twain, Kurt Vonnegut and, most recently, Anton Chekhov. First off was Stupid Fucking Bird, his take on The Seagull, which was well received. Then came No Sisters, his version of Three Sisters, which I don’t think has been seen in New York. Most recently, there is Life Sucks. which the program describes as “sort of adapted from Uncle Vanya.” Its Wheelhouse Theater Company production was dubbed a Critic’s Pick by the Times, so the show is now enjoying an encore run on Theatre Row with the same cast except for the title character. I’m afraid that I can’t join in the enthusiasm for the play. Posner’s method seems to involve using the F word as often as possible, adding a few contemporary touches such as a reference to student loans, and breaking the fourth wall not only to address the audience but to interrogate it. The list of characters mostly follows Chekhov except that family dependent “Waffles” has become “Pickles,” a lesbian, and Vanya’s mother has been replaced by a distant relative Babs, who is the closest thing to a well-adjusted character in the play. The acting is mostly solid. Austin Pendelton’s (Choir Boy) professor appeared so fragile that I feared he might not make it through the play. Kimberly Chatterjee (Pride and Prejudice) is a fine Sonia. Nadia Bowers (Describe the Night) is especially strong as the professor’s complicated wife Ella. Michael Schantz (Fashions for Men) is credible as Dr. Aster. Stacey Linnartz (Strange Bare Facts) does her best in the rather ludicrous role of Pickles. As Babs, Barbara Kingsley (August: Osage County) has almost nothing to do until late in the second act, when she commandeers the play for a lengthy reminiscence and a confession, neither of which remotely relates to Chekhov. Kevin Isola (Our Lady of 121st Street), who joined the cast as Vanya, seemed whinier than necessary. Except for a computer sitting on a table, the set by Brittany Vasta (Happy Birthday, Wanda Jane) with Tiffany lamps, floral wall hangings, generic furniture and a conspicuously unfinished back wall imprinted with instructions for the stagehands, could be anywhere anytime since the advent of electricity. The costumes by Christopher Metzger (Happy Birthday, Wanda Jane) are also nonspecific as to time or place. The direction by Jeff Wise (Happy Birthday, Wanda Jane) at times seemed sluggish, at other times indulgent. Aside for a few moments, such as the confrontation scene between Ella and Vanya, I was rarely moved. Perhaps if I had not seen Richard Nelson’s fine version at Hunter College this past season, I might have been more forgiving. In any case, this was not my cup of tea. Running time: two hours 30 minutes including intermission.

Handbagged

B

This diverting comedy by Moira Buffini (Gabriel) is the latest offering in 59e59 Theaters’ annual Brits Off Broadway season. Although the play indeed originated in London and won an Olivier Award, this production is actually an import from Roundhouse Theatre in Washington. The titular handbags belong to none other than Margaret Thatcher and Queen Elizabeth and the play is a fictionalized version of their prickly relationship. Each of them is represented by two characters, a younger version who experiences most of the events and an older version who comments on them. The Prime Minister is portrayed by T (Kate Fahy) and Mags (Susan Lynskey); the queen, by Q (Anita Carey) and Liz (Beth Hylton). Most of the time, all four are onstage. The cast also includes Actor 1 (Cody Leroy Wilson) and Actor 2 (John Lescaut), who play a variety of roles — husband, cabinet members, opposition politicians, Rupert Murdoch, and President and Mrs. Reagan, among others. Wilson is quite a sight in Nancy’s red suit. I thought that the play offered, in a flash, more insight into Murdoch’s influence on British life than the entire play Ink. The informative but playful script takes us through the Thatcher years, with emphasis on conversations between the two — or, in this case, four — figures. The queen is portrayed as a sympathetic figure who tries, mostly without success, to establish rapport with the rigid, dogmatic Thatcher. You might want to brush up your knowledge of that period, including the Falkland War, the coal strike, allowing the US to use UK bases in Libya, the poll tax and other arcane matters. It would have been helpful if there had been a few notes in the program. The playwright includes several metatheatrical devices such as frequently breaking the fourth wall and having Actors 1 and 2 argue over who gets which parts. For the most part, the playwright successfully blends entertainment and information. However, the play shows a few stretch marks from turning what was originally a one-act play into a longer work. The mostly American cast (only Fahy and Carey are British) is fine. Kate Fahy’s strong physical resemblance to Thatcher is uncanny. Mr. Wilson is a born scene stealer. Richard Kent has designed an elegantly simple set with black walls surrounding an all-white floor with a faint outline of the Union Jack on it, a pair of white chairs and a small table; his costumes are spot on. Indhu Rubasingham’s direction is assured. While I enjoyed the evening, I caution that those who did not live through the Thatcher Era or are not interested in it may be bored. Running time: two hours including intermission.

The Secret Life of Bees

B+

When it was announced that Atlantic Theater Company would present a musical adaptation of Sue Monk Kidd’s 2001 best-selling novel with a book by Pulitzer Prize winner Lynn Nottage (Sweat, Ruined), music by Tony winner Duncan Sheik (Spring Awakening), and direction by Tony winner Sam Gold (A Doll’s House, Part 2; Fun Home), the news created great excitement and high expectations. I am pleased to report that these expectations have mostly been met. The producers have splurged on a cast of 13 and nine musicians, a rare number for off-Broadway. Musically, the results are very rich. The songs are mostly strong and are given first-rate presentation by gorgeous voices and strong arrangements. The lyrics by Susan Birkenhead (Jelly’s Last Jam) are effective in creating the characters. During the first act, I felt the book did a good job of capturing the novel’s essence. The troubled background of opposition to civil rights in the 1960s South is skillfully blended into the book. However, after intermission it seemed like the creative team realized they had too much material to cover and began a rush to wrap things up that shortchanged important elements of the novel and left out the fate of an important character. While “Fifty-Five Fairlane” is a delightful song that Zachary sings about his beloved car, there is no such car in the novel (he drives an old truck) and the time the song takes could have been better spent on something more relevant such as the back story of the madonna statue. Somehow, the occasional outbursts of violence seemed more shocking in the context of a musical. Elizabeth Teeter (The Crucible) makes a solid impression as the young heroine Lily. LaChanze (The Color Purple), Eisa Davis (Luck of the Irish) and Anastacia McCleskey (Waitress) bring the three Boatwright sisters August, June and May vividly to life. Saycon Sengbloh (Eclipsed, Fela!) is spunky but sympathetic as Rosaleen, Lily’s fellow fugitive. Nathaniel Stampley (The Color Purple) is earnest as June’s long-suffering suitor Neil. Manoel Felciano (Sweeney Todd) is properly menacing as Lily’s abusive father T-Ray. As Zachary, Brett Gray is quietly appealing. As other members of The Daughters of Mary, the group of women who venerate the black madonna statue in the Boatwrights’ living room, Romelda Teron Benjamin (Brooklyn), Vita E. Cleveland and Jai’len Christine Li Josey (SpongeBob SquarePants) add beautiful voices to the ensemble. Joe Cassidy (Waitress) and Matt DeAngelis (Hair) are fine in several small roles. The set by Mimi Lien (True West, Fairview) is simple and uncluttered with brick walls, a polished wood floor and scattered votive candles. Dede Ayite’s (American Son, BLKS) costumes befit the characters well. Sam Gold’s direction is assured. Although I had some reservations about the book, I nevertheless found the production worthwhile.) Running time: two hour 20 minutes including intermission.

Nomad Motel

C-

The New York premiere of this well-meaning but muddled drama by Carla Ching (Fast Company) is the current attraction at Atlantic Theatre Company’s Stage 2. Two intelligent high school seniors in Anaheim, CA — Alix (Molly Griggs; Linda), an American girl with a feckless single mother, and Mason (Christopher Larkin), a boy from Hong Kong with an absent widowed father — are paired by a high school teacher to work on a joint project. Alix’s mother Fiona (Samantha Mathis; American Psycho, Affluenza), an unemployed actress, has lost the family home and furtively moves Alix and her two unseen young brothers from one motel to another when she can’t come up with the rent. Alix’s salary as a waitress at a taco joint is the family’s only income. She longs to escape by getting into Pratt and becoming a landscape architect. Mason’s mysterious father James (Andrew Pang; Kafka on the Shore), apparently an enforcer for a crime syndicate, set Mason up in a home in Anaheim four years ago to benefit from an American education and get into a top university to study economics to become a hedge fund manager. He tries to keep tight control over his son even though absent, but cuts off his financial support and disappears after Mason is disrespectful during a phone call. The lonely, socially awkward Mason loves music and only wants to become a musician. Lest we somehow not grasp that Mason is sensitive, we learn that he is caring for an injured bird he rescued. When Fiona takes off again, leaving Alix on her own, Alix is forced to move in with Oscar (Ian Duff; Dutch Masters), an African-American ex-boyfriend who is still carrying the torch for her. When she doesn’t reciprocate, he kicks her out and, in desperation, she moves in with Mason. The plight of being undocumented or black is mentioned in passing; we learn that both Mason and Oscar have been victims of overzealous policing. The two parents eventually meet and commiserate over the sorrows of parenthood. There is also a ridiculous sword fight. The playwright touches many bases but does not dig deeply enough. The two central characters come across as less interesting to watch than their dysfunctional parents. The monochromatic gray set by Yu-Hsuan Chen (Inanimate), tasked to represent a series of motel rooms, Mason’s house and an abandoned convenience store, is not very helpful in establishing each setting. The costumes by Loren Shaw (Sojourners and Her Portmanteau) do not distract. The direction by Ed Sylvanus Iskander (Sojourners and Her Portmanteau, The Mysteries) has its awkward moments such as when two characters are forced to sit quietly during a long scene not involving them. All in all, it came across as a missed opportunity to adequately address several timely issues. Running time: two hours 15 minutes including intermission. NOTE: Avoid seats in Row A; it is not elevated above Row AA, so your view may be blocked.

Something Clean

B

Roundabout Underground, the company’s new play initiative housed in the Black Box Theatre below the Laura Pels, fills the important function of introducing New Yorkers to new playwrights. Roundabout’s acute eye for new talent has launched the careers of Stephen Karam, Steven Levenson, Lindsey Ferrentino and Joshua Harmon, among others. Their latest offering is this absorbing three-actor drama by Selina Fillinger that examines the fallout of a sexual assault from an unusual vantage point, that of the perpetrator’s parents. Charlotte and Doug are a suburban couple whose college son Kai is currently in prison for a campus rape he committed while drunk. The leniency of his six-month sentence led to protests and brought unwanted notoriety into their comfortable lives. Doug (Daniel Jenkins; Oslo, Kid Victory) has taken refuge in his work. When we meet Charlotte (Kathryn Erbe; The Father, Checkers), she has presented herself as a would-be volunteer at an urban sexual assault center headed by a young gay black man, Joey (Christopher Livingston; Party People, Peerless). In a rather heavy-handed metaphor, she tells Joey that she is good at cleaning, particularly at removing stains. She hides her real identity and motivation from Joey and conceals her volunteer work from Doug. Over the next few months, the relationship between Charlotte and Doug grows increasingly distant while a friendship blossoms between Charlotte and Joey. Charlotte’s attempts to relieve her sense of guilt also include implausible late-night visits to a campus alley where she whips out her rubber gloves to tidy up the dumpsters. While there she meets a campus cop played by Jenkins and a drunk frat boy played by Livingston. The play, which rapidly alternates scenes between Charlotte and either Doug or Joey, leads to an inevitable climax when the three meet and Charlotte’s subterfuge is exposed. The acting is consistently strong, with Kathryn Erbe’s performance being especially powerful. Reid Thompson’s (Too Heavy for Your Pocket) set design locates the bedroom and part of the kitchen of the couple’s suburban home at one end of the rectangular stage with one wall of the assault center at the other end; the large table in the center is used to represent both places. The size of theater and the division of the audience into two facing sides increase the sense of intimacy. Valerie Therese Bart’s (Too Heavy for Your Pocket) costumes befit the characters well. Margot Bordelon’s (Do You Feel Anger?, Too Heavy for Your Pocket) direction is fluid and unfussy. While the plot has a few weak spots, the play is consistently absorbing and my overall reaction is quite positive. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

Underground Railroad Game

B+

Since winning the Obie in 2017 for “best new American theatre work,” this hilariously discomfiting examination of race, sex and power by Jennifer Kidwell (A Hard Time) and Scott R. Sheppard (The Appointment) has been on an extended domestic and international tour. Now it is back in New York at Ars Nova’s new downtown base at Barrow Street Theatre for an encore run. It is clearly not for everyone. If you are offended by nudity, depiction of sexual fantasies and/or rough language, you should skip this one. The two creators, who are also the entire cast, play middle school teachers — the black Caroline and the white Stuart — who are introducing their students to a participatory unit on the Civil War. To enliven things, they have created the titular game in which Union soldiers get points for rescuing escaped slaves while Confederate troops win points for capturing them. (Sheppard actually experienced such a game in fifth grade.) The audience is occasionally induced to be the student body at an assembly. Each audience member has either a grey or blue toy soldier taped beneath the seat. The audience involvement is minor and too mild to be annoying. As the unit progresses, Caroline and Stuart cautiously begin a relationship. The chasm between them grows as unexpected lessons are learned. The play, which jumps rapidly from the lesson plan to fantasies and surreal episodes, is so crammed with material that it is hard to believe that it is only 75 minutes long. The design credit is divided between Tillly Grimes (The Government Inspector) for production and Steven Dufala for scenic. I don’t know who did what, but the result is highly effective, as is Oona Curley’s (Good Grief) lighting. Director Taibi Magar (Blue Ridge) holds all the diverse elements together skillfully. The actors are both amazing. Since they are also the authors, they have no one to blame but themselves for what they are put through. I was alternately amused, annoyed, shocked and baffled. I don’t know whether you will love it or hate it, but I can guarantee that you won’t be bored. NOTE: Except for the last two rows, the auditorium is unraked so an unobstructed view is a matter of luck.