Spain

 C-

Although Second Stage describes their new play by Jen Silverman (Collective Rage: A Play in 5 Betties) as “seductive” and “funny,” I failed to be either seduced or amused by it. Silverman presents an imagined version of the circumstances behind the filming of “The Spanish Earth,” a 1937 documentary intended to win sympathy and support for the Spanish Republican government against Franco and his Fascist allies. The film was directed by Dutch documentarian Joris Ivens, written by John Dos Passos, Lillian Hellman and Ernest Hemingway, and edited by Ivens’s wife-to-be Helen van Dongen, all of whom except Hellman are characters in the play. Silverman posits that Ivens (Andrew Burnap; Camelot, The Inheritance) has become dependent on Russia to finance his films and has been ordered by his opera-loving KGB handler Karl (Zachary James; The Addams Family) to make a film promoting the Republican cause while carefully omitting any mention of Russian support. Karl, by the way, is the person who introduced him to Helen (Marin Ireland; Reasons To Be Pretty, Blue Ridge). Neither Joris nor Helen has ever been to Spain. We observe their strategizing to make the film, including their intent to play on the rivalry between Dos Passos (Erik Lochtefeld; Metamorphoses, Misery) and Hemingway (Danny Wolohan; To Kill a Mockingbird, Octoroon). Rifts in the relationship between Joris and Helen repeatedly emerge. After the film is made, the play suddenly jumps 80 years into the future with a scene in which the actor who played Karl is instructing the other four actors that movies are now passe and they must learn to use the internet to create propaganda. For me the play completely failed to cohere or find a consistent style. A couple of scenes that placed Hemingway in a recording studio seemed out of left field. His characterization seemed cartoonish compared to the other roles. Ireland and Bernap, who I have found compelling in previous roles, were bland here. James has a marvelous singing voice that I wish we had heard more of. Dane Laffrey’s (Parade, Once on This Island) set uses a revolving platform to create several settings with just a few suggestive props. Alejo Vietti’s (Allegiance, Beautiful) period costumes are apt. Tyne Rafaeli’s (The Coast Starlight, Epiphany) direction is unfussy, but cannot supply coherence  where there is none. All in all, it was a great disappointment. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Poor Yella Rednecks

A-

Over six years have passed since Vietgone, Qui Nguyen’s refreshingly original play about a Vietnamese couple who meet in an Arkansas refugee camp, was presented by Manhattan Theater Club. Blending drama, comedy and rap with a comic-book sensibility, it was one of the fresher offerings of the 2016-17 season. Now the entertaining sequel, first presented at South Coast Repertory in 2019, has finally reached New York. Even though it is a sequel, it is absolutely not necessary for you to have seen the first play to enjoy this one. The good news is that most of the talented creative team is back and the off-kilter sensibility of the first play is intact. The new actors playing the central couple, Tong (Maureen Sebastian) and Quang (Ben Levin), are as good as their predecessors. The story picks up five years after the first play with Tong and Quang still struggling to thrive in redneck country. Their son, known as Little Man and portrayed by an expressive puppet created by David Valentine and manipulated by Jon Norman Schneider, is bullied at school, partially for not speaking English. Tong’s feisty mother Huong (the wonderful Samantha Quan) babysits him while Tong is at work as a diner waitress and speaks only Vietnamese with him, so he hears too little English. Other characters include Nhan (Jon Hoche), Quang’s devoted long-time friend, and Bobby (Paco Tolson), Tong’s feckless white former boyfriend. One of the play’s amusing features is the convention than when characters are speaking Vietnamese, we hear perfect English but when English is spoken we get a series of exclamations like “Yeehaw” and random words from pop culture that amount to gibberish. At times of strong emotion, the characters break out in rap (to beats by Shane Rettig) with lyrics one wishes were a little cleverer. A few over-the-top martial arts scenes are very funny. A crisis develops when Quang’s past suddenly catches up with him and jeopardizes his relationship with Tong. Tim Mackabee’s colorful set features huge letters spelling out YELLA that rotate to reveal various settings. Director May Adrales keeps everything moving briskly. Perhaps the play is overstuffed with goodies, but that’s barely a fault. Running time: Two hours 15 minutes, including intermission. For your convenience I have repeated my 2016 review of Vietgone below.

Vietgone

B+

Qui Nguyen’s new play at Manhattan Theatre Club's Stage I is hard to fit into a neat category. While the prevailing tone is comedic, it deals with some very serious issues. Its central focus is a Vietnamese couple who meet in a refugee camp in Arkansas. Quang (Raymond Lee) is a helicopter pilot wracked by guilt for being unable to rescue his wife and children when Saigon fell. Tong (Jennifer Ikeda) is an emotionally closed-off woman who wanted to escape with her younger brother but ended up being forced to take her difficult mother instead. Sexual sparks fly when Tong and Quang meet, but the emotional baggage they carry is a barrier to building a relationship. Besides, Quang wants to return to Vietnam to rejoin his family. We also meet Quang’s best friend, an American naval captain, a translator, a camp guard, a hippy couple, a redneck biker and even a character who purports to be the playwright. All the female roles except Tong are played by Samantha Quan; all the male roles except for Quang are played by Jon Hoche and Paco Tolson. The play incorporates a love story, a road trip with a hilarious kung fu sequence, a send up of ethnic and national stereotypes, broad (sometimes too broad) humor, all in the context of presenting an alternative view of the Vietnam era as seen from the other side. While the play is not a musical, every once in a while, when emotions are running high, a character will suddenly break out into rap. It’s unfortunate that I had just seen Hamilton a week before because the quality of the rap lyrics here (to music by Shane Rettig) can in no way compare to Lin-Manuel Miranda’s work. The cast members are appealing, but the acting is uneven and often unsubtle. The first-rate production benefits from an excellent scenic design by Tim Mackabee, featuring a western scene of a highway with utility poles, power lines and billboards, greatly enhanced by Jared Mezzocchi’s projections. Anthony Tran’s costumes are excellent too. Director May Adrales skillfully holds it all together. It’s an unruly play that could use a slight trim, but its energy and inventiveness go a long way to make up for its shortcomings. I found it refreshing and worthwhile. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes including intermission.