The Traveling Lady

C-

This revival of Horton Foote’s 1954 play now in previews at the Cherry Lane Theatre does not make a strong case for the play. As usual for Foote, the setting is the mythical Harrison, Texas in the 1950’s. Georgette Thomas (Jean Lichty), an attractive young woman, arrives in town with her five-year old daughter Margaret Rose (Korinne Tetlow), looking for a cheap house to rent. She is directed to Judge Robedaux (George Morfogen) who plies her for personal information. It turns out that her husband Henry (PJ Sosko) has been in prison for six years and has never met his daughter. She expects him to arrive in Harrison, where he grew up, within the week. She is startled to find out that Henry has already been in town for a month and is living with and working for Mrs. Tillman (Jill Tanner), a do-gooder who fancies herself able to cure alcoholics. While the neighbors try to locate her husband, Georgette and her daughter rest at the home of Clara Breedlove (Angelina Fiordellisi) and her brother Slim Murray (Larry Bull), a young widower. We learn that Siim’s allegedly beloved wife actually abandoned him and wouldn’t even let him visit her as she lay dying. We also meet Clara’s next-door neighbors, the crusty old Mrs. Mavis (Lynne Cohen) who wanders off every chance she gets and her hapless daughter Sitter (Karen Ziemba) [Really, where do Southerners come up with these awful names for their daughters!]. Will Henry stay sober? Will Margaret Rose get to meet her father? Will Slim find true love? Will Mrs. Tillman keep her faith in human nature? Will Georgette catch a break? I was not at the edge of my seat waiting to find out. While the ensemble is mostly good, Austin Pendleton’s  direction is flat. The set by Harry Feiner and costumes by Theresa Squire are adequate. The need for most of the actors to enter via the theater’s center aisle and up a few stairs grows tiresome quickly. While it’s always a pleasure to see Karen Ziemba, she is wasted in a nondescript supporting role. In the short-lived 1954 Broadway production, the title role was played by Kim Stanley. Perhaps someone with her charisma is needed to breathe life into this play. Unless you are a fanatic Foote fan, you can skip this one. Running time: one hour 40 minutes, no intermission

Out of the Mouths of Babes **

Set design by Neil Patel

Israel Horovitz’s latest play was commissioned by the artistic director of the Cherry Lane Theatre, Angelina Fiordellisi, as a vehicle for two theatrical treasures, Estelle Parsons and Judith Ivey. It’s a wildly uneven comedy about four women who gather in the Parisian apartment of a Sorbonne professor, ex-husband to three of them and former lover to the fourth, who has just died at 100. Evelyn (Parsons), 88, was his second wife who married him after the first wife’s defenestration. Evvie (Ivey), 68, broke up that marriage, but never wed him. Both have been invited to attend the funeral with complimentary plane tickets by his widow. Janice (Fiordellisi), 58, the depressive third wife, read about his death and shows up uninvited; after her many suicide attempts, it was assumed that she was no longer “available.” His widow, the luscious Marie-Belle, 38, from Senegal (Francesca Choy-Kee), claims to still be in communication with him, which we see mainly through the uncontrollable laughter his paranormal tickling attacks provoke. The four women bitch and reminisce, with most of the bon mots going to troupers Parsons and Ivey. There’s a bit of the supernatural at the end. It’s intermittently entertaining in a lazy way. As light summer entertainment, that may be enough for most. The spectacular art-laden Parisian loft designed by Neil Patel will definitely evoke real estate envy. (It turns out that many of the artworks are by celebrities such as Rosie O’Donnell, Joel Grey and Billy Dee Williams. A guide is thoughtfully inserted in the program.) The costumes by Joseph G. Aulisi suit the characters admirably. Barnet Kellman’s direction skillfully maximizes the play’s assets. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes including intermission.

Superficially, Israel Horowitz has a lot in common with Alan Ayckbourn. Both were born in 1939, both have written over 70 plays, both developed most of their work for a provincial theater they headed and both have had substantial success. Judging from the limited number of their plays I have seen, I would have to say that Ayckbourn is by far the superior craftsman. Horowitz divides his time between the US and Paris and is much beloved by the French. According to the program, he is the most produced American playwright in French theatrical history. Go figure. 

A request: I wish that all playwrights would declare a moratorium on cunnilingus jokes; they have become a tiresome cliche.