Norma Jeane Baker of Troy

D

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.

The Crucible **

I am not a great admirer of this Arthur Miller play based on the Salem witch trials of 1692-93. While the witch hunt theme is just as resonant today as it was during the McCarthy era when it was written, the play seems to me too long, too wordy and too didactic. It has too many characters to flesh out sufficiently to be more than embodiments of points of view. Nevertheless, the stellar casting and my curiosity to see how hotshot director Ivo van Hove would impose his stamp on the material led me to buy a ticket. While I had some reservations about van Hove’s take on View from the Bridge, I did find it compelling and unified. Not so with The Crucible. Setting it in modern dress (costumed by Wojciech Dziedzic) didn’t bother me, but making the set (by Jan Versweyveld) a schoolroom featuring a giant blackboard and dressing the girls in school uniforms seemed pointless. Although he scrupulously follows Miller’s text, van Hove interpolates a couple of very brief nonverbal non-Miller scenes at the beginning and end of the first act. It disturbs me that one of them (and another scene later) virtually eliminates any ambiguity we should feel about whether witchcraft was actually taking place. And then there’s that strange four-footed visitor at the beginning of Act Three. Not even the curtain call escapes van Hove’s tinkering. As for the actors, it’s a mixed bag. The casting is nontraditional and the accents vary widely. Of the four stars, Sophie Okonedo as Elizabeth Proctor comes across the best by far. The role of John Proctor does not seem a natural fit for Ben Whishaw, but he handles it rather well. Ciaran Hinds is adequate but unmemorable as Deputy Governor Danforth. As Abigail Williams, Saoirse Ronan disappoints; her stage presence falls short of the powerful impression she makes onscreen. Jason Butler Harner is strong as Reverend Parris, as are Brenda Wehle as Rebecca Nurse and Jim Norton as Giles Corey. Tavi Gevinson’s Mary Warren seems too young. While I have often enjoyed the music of Philip Glass, I found his score, most of which consisted of a relentless background drone, a distraction rather than an enhancement. Running time: two hours 50 minutes.