I Can Get It for You Wholesale

A-

Classic Stage Company has revived this Harold Rome (Wish You Were Here, Fanny)/Jerome Weidman (Fiorello!) musical about Harry Bogen, a charming sociopath blazing his way through the garment industry in the late 1930s. The original 1962 production was notable for giving Barbra Streisand her first Broadway role at the age of 19 and for giving Elliott Gould’s career a boost. Weidman’s book, based on his own novel, has been revised by his son John (Pacific Overtures, Assassins) with the aim of bringing back more of the edginess of the novel including the reaction to antisemitism motivating some of the characters. While Rome’s music and lyrics are not up there with better-known midcentury classics, they are more than serviceable. Harry, skillfully portrayed by Santino Fontana (Tootsie, Sons of the Prophet), narrates the story himself and does not attempt to hide the awfulness behind his charm. Judy Kuhn (Fun Home, She Loves Me) lends warmth, wisdom and her glorious voice to the role of Harry’s mother. Adam Chanler-Berat (Next to Normal, Fortress of Solitude) is fine as Harry’s hapless partner Meyer and Sarah Steele (“The Good Fight”) does well as Meyer’s wife Blanche. Greg Hildreth (The Rose Tattoo, The Robber Bridegroom) captures the ambivalence of Harry’s less trusting partner Teddy. Julia Lester (Into the Woods) triumphs as their secretary, Miss Marmelstein. In an interesting casting twist, both women competing for Harry’s attention – his friend since childhood Ruthie Rivkin and showgirl Martha Mills – are played by black actors – Rebecca Naomi Jones (Oklahoma, Big Love) and Joy Woods (SIX: The Musical, Little Shop of Horrors), respectively. Both are top-notch. Eddie Cooper, Victor de Paula Rocha, Adam Grupper, Darron Hayes and Hayley Podschun are fine in smaller roles. Mark Wendland’s (Next to Normal, Unknown Soldier) set consists mainly of about 10 plain tables and around 20 plain black chairs that are pushed around to represent several locations as needed. Ann Hould-Ward’s (Beauty and the Beast, Into the Woods) period costumes are a treat. Choreographer Ellenore Scott’s (Grey House, Little Shop of Horrors) number for Harry and Martha is steamy. Director Trip Cullman (Lobby Hero, Punk Rock) mostly keeps things moving briskly although there are a few slack moments during the second act. CSC has provided a valuable service in bringing back this underappreciated musical. I was very glad to have the chance to see it, especially in a first-rate production. Running time: two hours 35 minutes including intermission. NOTE: Seats in Row A do not have arms.

The Cradle Will Rock

C+

One wonders whether Marc Blitzstein’s 1937 musical about greed, corruption and anti-unionism in Steeltown, USA would have survived until today if not for the headline-grabbing circumstances of its birth. After the Federal Theater Project pulled the plug four days before it was supposed to open, producer John Houseman and director Orson Welles found a vacant theater where they presented it with the composer playing the piano onstage while the actors performed from locations in the audience. Now CSC is presenting a revival that gives it the minimalist John Doyle (The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui, Carmen Jones) treatment with nine of the ten actors playing more than one role and four of them — Ken Barnett (Fun Home), Benjamin Eakely (She Loves Me), Ian Lowe (Nikolai & the Others) and Kara Mikula (Allegro) —  taking turns as pianist. Doyle’s simple design has an upright piano and assorted metal drums and barrels along one of the shorter walls of the theater. Wires from all around the theater lead to a telephone pole on this wall. The audience is seated along the other three walls with no one more than five rows from the stage. Doyle has assembled an excellent cast, led by Tony Yazbeck (On the Town, The Beast in the Jungle) as labor leader Larry Foreman and as Harry Druggist. Lara Pulver (Gypsy, West End) as The Moll and Sally Ann Triplett (Carrie, The Last Ship) as Mrs. Mister are standouts, but all the others — Eddie Cooper (The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui), David Garrison (I Do! I Do!, Wicked), Rema Webb (Escape to Margaritaville) and the four listed above as pianists — are also very good. Ann Hould-Ward's (The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui, Carmen Jones) monochromatic costumes are apt. Even though the story, very much a product of its time, comes across as dated, the underlying themes remain all too relevant today. For me the weakest link was Blitzstein’s music which sounded like Weill on an off day. If you want to see an historic period piece, you may well enjoy it. I found myself wishing that Doyle had just recreated the original, with the actors performing from the audience. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

NOTE: CSC no longer hands out paper programs. I urge you to go their website in advance to download the program and either print it or download it to your smartphone. Also, be aware that seats in Row A are armless.

Summer and Smoke

C+

This revival of Tennessee Williams’s 1948 drama marks the first time that either of the two co-producers, Classic Stage Company (CSC) and Transport Group, has presented one of his works. Williams, who took over three years to write the play, was never fully satisfied with it and ended up revising it substantially under the title The Eccentricities of a Nightingale in 1964. Nevertheless, it has been frequently revived, probably because the juicy part of Alma Winemiller has been catnip to a series of fine actresses including Anne Jackson, Geraldine Page, Betsy Palmer, Mary McDonnell, Laila Robins and Amanda Plummer. This time around, Marin Ireland (Big Knife, reasons to be pretty), does the honors, giving a solid performance as the neurasthenic preacher’s daughter who falls in love with the boy next door, John Buchanan (a fine Nathan Darrow; Richard III), son of the town doctor (Phillip Clark; Come Back, Little Sheba). Alma, who is quick to point out that her name is Spanish for “soul,” is looking for spiritual love while John is a sensualist wastrel. He argues that his anatomy chart has no place for a soul. Alma’s father Rev. Winemiller (T. Ryder Smith; Oslo) is strict with her and her mother (Barbara Walsh; Falsettos) is emotionally challenged. Alma gives voice lessons; her favorite pupil is Nellie Ewell (Hannah Elless), a talentless girl with a disreputable mother. John becomes involved with a Mexican beauty Rosa Gonzales (Elena Hurst) whose father (Gerardo Rodriguez) owns the local casino. A tragedy leads John and Alma to reconsider their lives and they essentially switch their philosophical positions. This being a Tennessee Williams play, don’t expect things to end well for the heroine. The minimalist set design by Dane Laffrey (Come Back, Little Sheba) presents a long white rectangle overhung by a matching white dropped ceiling with no props except six antique chairs, an easel with an oil painting representing the angel sculpture/fountain in the town square and, for part of the play, another easel with an anatomy chart. With no other props, the actors must mime such acts as making a phone call, using a stethoscope and eating an ice cream cone. The lack of any division of space sometimes makes it difficult to discern where a scene is taking place. Kathryn Rohe’s costumes effectively set the period as early 20th century.  Director Jack Cummings III; Strange Interlude), artistic director of Transport Group, deals effectively with the problem of playing to an audience seated on three sides. I was glad to have the opportunity to see this minor play by an important American playwright, but I disliked a lot about the production. Running time: two hours 30 minutes including intermission. 

NOTE: CSC managed to annoy me before the play even began. As usual, I had to run the gauntlet of coffee house patrons to get their box office. Today, after making it to the auditorium, I learned that programs would not be distributed until after the play. For no discernible reason, the audience was forced to watch the play without the names of the actors, the setting of the play or whether there would be an intermission. I cannot think of any possible justification for this policy. When I finally got my hands on the program, I perused it carefully for possible “spoilers” but could find nothing other than the fact that one of the actors is married to the director. I hope they stop this ridiculous policy immediately.

Fire and Air

D

It is sad to think that this amorphous mess came from the pen of four-time Tony winner Terrence McNally. How the mighty have fallen! If there was any point to this Cliff Notes version of the career of ballet impresario Sergei Diaghilev, I failed to grasp it. If you arrive knowing the reasons for his importance to the arts of the early 20th century, you will disappointed by the needy man-child portrayed here (by the miscast Douglas Hodge; La Cage aux Folles). If you don’t know his importance beforehand, you will wonder why you should waste two hours with this unpleasant man. At least his entourage includes some interesting characters played by topnotch actors — his cousin and long-ago lover Dmitry Filosofov (John Glover; Love! Valour! Compassion!), his longtime friend and patron Misia Sert (Marin Mazzie; Bullets Over Broadway, Carrie) and his nurse since childhood Dunya (Marsha Mason; The Goodbye Girl). We also meet his great love, the dancer Vaslav Nijinsky (James Cusati-Moyer; Six Degrees of Separation), whose career he obsessively molded, and who broke his heart. Finally, we are introduced to his next protege Leonide Massine (Jay Armstrong Johnson; On the Town). To hold the interest of at least part of the audience, Cusati-Moyer and Johnson remove their shirts as often as possible. Periodically Diaghilev spouts something pretentious when he is not kvetching about his boils or his fear of water. At intermission, I could not imagine that it could get worse, but I was wrong. The second act is excruciating with embarrassing surrealistic touches. It was a thoroughly dispiriting experience. Costumes were by Ann Hould-Ward (Allegro, Pacific Overtures). CSC artistic director John Doyle (Allegro, Pacific Overtures) designed the set and directed. Running time: two hours including intermission. NOTE: Seats in Row A are armless.

Pacific Overtures

B+

It was interesting to see Pacific Overtures the day after The Hairy Ape. Both are radically conceived revivals of works that are not generally considered to be among their creator’s finest. Both revivals succeed in making the case that these works should not be overlooked. John Doyle is working his way through the Sondheim canon; he has directed Company, Sweeney Todd, Passion and Road Show. In the first two of these, the actors were burdened with also being the musicians. Fortunately he has not repeated that gimmick for this CSC production. What he has given us is an intimate, streamlined, modern dress version with a fine cast. Pacific Overtures differs from his other shows in that it is basically a musicalized history lesson with characters that are sketched rather than fully developed. With a lovely score ably orchestrated by Jonathan Tunick and an interesting book by John Weidman with additional material by Hugh Wheeler, it doesn’t need fancy sets and costumes to make its case. [However I must say that I enjoyed the visually lavish Roundabout revival in 2004.] In this production, Doyle’s design is basically a long runway platform that continues up the wall on one side like a scroll and has a Japanese seat near one end. The audience face each other along the long sides and the musicians are at one end. The performers move fluidly both along the platform and both side aisles. Most of the cast of ten play multiple roles. George Takei plays the reciter. Ann Harada adds humor as the madam and the French admiral. Stephen Eng and Megan Masako Haley are strong as the hapless Kayama and his wife Tamate. Karl Josef Co, Austin Ku, Kelvin Moon Loh, Orville Mendoza, Marc Oka and Thom Sesma round out the fine cast. They all wear contemporary Western attire accessorized on occasion by silks that recall the famous “Great Wave” print. Sometimes a stripped-down production is valuable in revealing what is essential about a show. It works quite well here. Running time: 90 minutes; no intermission. NOTE: I advise against front row seats particularly if you are short, because the runway platform is quite high. Also, front row seats have no arms.

The Liar

A-

One of the most enjoyable plays I saw in 2011 was The School for Lies, David Ives’s delightful riff on Moliere’s The Misanthrope, at Classic Stage Company. The cleverness of Ives’s rhymed couplets, full of anachronisms and contemporary references, more than compensated for the silliness of the plot. Three years later, Ives was back at CSC with his “translaptation” (his word) of “The Heir Apparent,” a comedy by lesser known French playwright Regnard. While enjoyable, it did not reach the hilarious peaks of the earlier piece. Now CSC is presenting Ives’s latest adaptation of a classic French comedy, Corneillie’s The Liar (Le Menteur). The good news is that Ives is in top form and the production is another triumph of style over substance. The slight plot, a trifle based on mistaken identities, is performed with conviction by an excellent cast led by Christian Conn in the title role of Dorante and the ever-enjoyable Carson Elrod (“All in the Timing,” “The Heir Apparent,” “The Explorers Club’) as his manservant Cliton, who cannot tell a lie. Ismenia Mendes and Amelia Pedlow are charming as Clarice and Lucrece. Tony Roach is fun as Alcippe, Clarice’s secret fiance. Aubrey Deeker is fine in the less showy role of Philiste. Adam LeFevre brings warmth to the role of Dorante’s father Geronte, Kelly Hutchinson is a delight its the twin maids Isabelle and Sabine. The elegantly simple set by Alexander Dodge and the attractive costumes by Murell Horton enhance the production. Michael Kahn directs with a light touch. My only reservation is that it is almost too much of a good thing. The slenderness of the plot barely supports the play’s length, despite all its cleverness. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes including intermission.

Comfort alert: The seats in Row A do not have arms.

Peer Gynt **

Classic Stage Company’s new production directed and adapted by its incoming artistic director John Doyle is a case of too little Ibsen and too much Doyle. Up to a point, Doyle’s stripped-down version with just seven actors works, but there is so little specificity about location or identity of the characters that it all runs together into a blur. Perhaps Doyle thought this would give the play more universality, but I wasn’t buying it. Doyle’s signature tic of having the actors play instruments has become a cliche; fortunately, only two actors (Jane Pfitsch and George Abud) are so burdened in this production. Other directorial choices puzzled me — the character called The Undertaker (Adam Heller) speaks with a New York accent while The Mother (Becky Ann Baker) has a Southern accent. The usually fine Dylan Baker (The Doctor) and Quincy Tyler Bernstine (Solveig) do not have much opportunity to show their strengths. Not even the amazing performance by Gabriel Ebert as the title character is enough to hold things together. Doyle must have instructed him to downplay Peer Gynt’s age in the final scenes, which robs the play of some of its pathos. Nevertheless, Ebert is a wonder to behold. He is onstage for virtually the entire play and probably has 90% of the lines. This adaptation falls between two stools: it’s too long to sit comfortably through for two hours but too short to do justice to Ibsen. David L. Asenault’s scenic design features a raised rectangular platform with a step on each end. Ann Hould-Ward’s modern-dress costumes are stylish. The music for violin by Dan Moses Schreier is no threat to Grieg. I hope this production will not set the template for what we can expect during Doyle’s reign as artistic director. Running time: 2 hours, no intermission. NOTE: Avoid seats in the 200 section where you will often face the actors’ backs and in the front row of the two side sections which are benches with no arms or back.

Nathan the Wise **

For his final production as artistic director of Classic Stage Company (CSC), Brian Kulick has chosen this 1779 “drama of ideas” by German Enlightenment philosopher/playwright Gotthold Ephraim Lessing. Set in Jerusalem in 1192 during the Third Crusade, it makes a case for religious tolerance between Jews, Muslims and Christians. The title character (F. Murray Abraham) is a wealthy Jewish merchant, just back from a long journey, who learns that his daughter Rachel (Erin Neufer) has been rescued from a fire by a mysterious Knight Templar (Stark Sands) who had been spared from execution by the Muslim ruler Saladin (Austin Durant) because of his strong resemblance to Saladin’s late brother. The Templar at first vehemently refuses to have anything to do with the Jew Nathan, but is rather suddenly won over by his intellect and soon falls in love with his daughter. Daya (Caroline Lagerfelt), Rachel’s Christian nurse, tells the Templar a secret that puts Nathan at great risk from the Patriarch of Jerusalem (also played by Lagerfelt). The other characters are Al-Hafi (George Abud), a dervish who provides comic relief; Sittah (Shiva Kalaiselvan), Saladin’s clever sister; and Brother (John Christopher Jones), a monk with a secret. The central portion of the play deals with a perilous challenge from Saladin for Nathan to tell him which religion most pleases God. Nathan adroitly handles the situation by telling a parable about three rings, one of which has magical powers. A father who loved his three sons equally had two duplicates made and told each son that he had been given the original ring. A wise judge told the sons that the only way to determine who had the magic ring was for each to behave as if worthy of it. Saladin succumbs to the powers of Nathan’s intellect and takes him as his friend. A pair of revelations about two orphans provides a rather hackneyed ending. I found some of Kulick’s choices perplexing. The entire back wall of Tony Straiges’s set is covered with a sepia photograph of a bombed-out street in a place like Syria or Gaza. This wall is covered by an unexplained projected Arabic script at the beginning of each act. There is a row of chairs across the back of this wall where the actors sometimes sit when they are not in a scene. The floor is covered with oriental carpets which are rolled, unrolled or pulled up at various moments. In a framing device, the play opens with the actors in modern dress arguing in Arabic until Abraham shushes them so he can tell a story. The costume design by Anita Yavich has each don an attractive white robe covered with ornamental calligraphy appropriate to the character’s religion. The actors wait for the second act to begin while Durant and Abud say their evening prayers. What we are to make of this mishmash of imagery was not clear to me. The acting is uneven. Lagerfelt was very good in both roles. Sands coped well with the abrupt changes in his character's behavior. Abraham was blessedly restrained. It was a minor pleasure to be exposed to this rarely seen curiosity. Running time: two hours.

A Month in the Country **

Turgenev’s theater masterpiece has a peculiar history. Written in 1850, a good 50 years before the Chekhov plays it prefigures, it was not produced until 1872 and did not receive proper recognition until the Moscow Art Theatre took it up, at Chekhov’s urging, during the early 1900’s.   It never achieved the popularity of the plays it inspired. Here in New York, Roundabout presented it three times — in 1976, 1979 and, on Broadway, in 1995 in a production directed by Scott Ellis. I saw the 1995 production, which starred Helen Mirren in her Broadway debut. (She almost made me forget that she was a 50-year-old playing a 29-year-old.) Despite the star-studded cast, which also included F. Murray Abraham, Ron Rifkin and Alessandro Nivola, Times critic Vincent Canby panned the production. I recall my reaction as being less negative, although I was disappointed that it didn’t make me re-experience the pleasure I had reading the play. Now CSC has revived the play in a brisk production starring two current television stars, Taylor Schilling of “Orange Is the New Black” and Peter Dinklage of “Game of Thrones,” and a former one, Anthony Edwards of “ER.” The results are wildly uneven. While Schilling looks perfect for the alluring but chilly Natalya, her interpretation does not dig very deep. Dinklage, on the other hand, makes Rakitin a touching figure. Edwards is properly obtuse as Natalya’s husband Arkady. (Turgenev specifies his age as 36, only 7 years his wife’s senior, but, once again, he has been cast as much older.) Megan West, who plays the murdered girl on “How To Get Away with Murder,” struck me as too perky and childlike in the early scenes, but got better as the play progressed. For me, the weakest link was Mike Faist as Belyaev, the young tutor whose presence destabilizes the household; he lacks the looks and charm to make his attractiveness plausible. The ever watchable Elizabeth Franz makes the most of the role of Arkady’s mother. Thomas Jay Ryan, as the cynical Dr. Shpigelsky, almost steals the show; his proposal to Lizaveta (Annabelle Sciorra) was, at least for me, the play’s highlight. Director Erica Schmidt rushes the play along to its detriment. I was appalled at the interjected scene of Natalya and Belyaev ripping each other’s clothes off, because there is absolutely no basis for it in the text. Tom Broecker’s costumes are fine, but Mark Wendland’s set is strange. A low wall, similar to a courtroom barrier, surrounds the stage. The back wall is a birch forest, which has to be the most cliched shorthand for a Russian setting ever. An oppressive large box overhangs the entire stage, semitransparent in front, which fulfills no function that I could think of unless it is supposed to suggest how confined their world is. The program lists the son as Koyla, instead of Kolya — twice. To his discredit, the Times critic repeated the error. I suppose it’s better to have a flawed production of an important play than none, but it’s a close call. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes including intermission.

The Heir Apparent ***

I wish I had been able to approach the CSC production of David Ives's "translaptation" (his neologism) of Jean-François Regnard's 1708 comedy unburdened by expectations. Unfortunately, I could not drive away the memory of CSC's brilliant 2011 production of "The School for Lies." Ives's riff on Moliere's "The Misanthrope," which I thought was one of the best plays of that year. The problem with this work is that Regnard is no Moliere. The humor is broader, less witty and more scatological. Although it makes for an enjoyable evening, the play doesn't reach the heights of Ives's best adaptations or original work. The plot is an old standby -- scheming to win the inheritance of an allegedly dying miser. The major source of the fun is in Ives' delightful rhyming couplets in iambic pentameter. His verses are filled with delightful anachronisms and modern cultural references, e.g. soccer moms, the 99%, CPR. The entire cast is excellent, first among them the always hilarious Carson Elrod ("The Explorers Club," "All in the Timing") as the servant whose crazy plans drive most of the action. Suzanne Bertish, Paxton Whitehead and David Pittu, ever the reliable actors, shine in their roles. Dave Quay, Amelia Pedlow and Claire Karpen are all fine too. John Lee Beatty's set is marvelously cluttered and David C. Woolard's costumes are appealing. Director John Rando keeps things moving along briskly, but I didn't like the choice to have an actor break character and address the audience a few times. I liked the play, but I would have liked it more if I had not seen other better work from Ives. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.

The Cherry Orchard **

(Click on the title to read the full review.)

Writing this review is rather pointless since this CSC production directed by Andrei Belgrader closes tomorrow. Nevertheless, I'll weigh in if only to assure those who couldn't score tickets that they did not miss the revelatory experience suggested by some of the reviews. The production is wildly uneven, with superb moments alternating with others that are downright crude and/or pointless. (Does audience participation really have a role in a Chekhov play?) Chekhov did regard the play as a comedy, but I doubt he was thinking of slapstick. Throwing in a scene of attempted fellatio is sheer sensationalism. In abridging the text to get the evening down to 2 1/2 hours with intermission, the roles of some minor characters have been so truncated that what remains doesn't make much sense. There is some fine acting, especially by Daniel Davis, Alvin Epstein and Juliet Rylance. John Turturro has a wonderful drunk scene, but is a bit too overbearing elsewhere. Dianne Wiest, to my surprise, just isn't that interesting here; I thought she was much better in CSC's Seagull a few years back. The evening moves in fits and starts. I have never thought the play has the emotional power of Uncle Vanya or The Seagull, but it can have more impact than in this abridged version.

Dreams of Flying, Dreams of Falling *

What's Adam Rapp's new play about? About 90 minutes. That's all I can say with certainty about his absurdist comedy now in an Atlantic Theater Company production at CSC. The cast is led by two wonderful actors (Christine Lahti and Reed Birney). The set (by Andrew Boyce & Takeshi Kata) and costumes (by Theresa Squire) perfectly establish the gracious milieu of privileged Connecticut WASPs. Two families, the Cabots and their guests, the Von Stofenburgs, are about to sit down to dinner. Things soon spin out of control. Mrs. Cabot tries to persuade Von Stofenburg (Cotter Smith), whose reputation has been tarnished by a Madoff-like affair,  to poison her husband so they can run off together. The Cabot daughter (Katherine Waterston), who likes to pluck the hairs out of men's arms for an art project, maintains that there is a she lion in the basement. The Von Stofenburg son (Shane McRae), just returned from two years in a clinic after believing his stuffed animals when they told him he could fly, is in correspondence with a young Iraqi insurgent whom he is helping to acquire "materials." The two young adults have vigorous sex all around the dining room. The black maid (Quincy Tyler Bernstine), is learning French and likes to recite Shakespeare. Mrs. Von Stofenburg (Betsy Aidem) is so bland that her presence barely registers. Wild geese crash against the house, the sky turns strange colors, the murder plots goes awry.... and so forth. While some of the plot lines might have been interesting if developed more fully, here they just seem part of a mishmash. While there were some entertaining moments along the way, there was no sense of unity. Neil Pepe directed.

Unnatural Acts: Harvard's Secret Court of 1920 ***

I hope Ben Brantley's negative review won't dissuade anyone from seeing this worthwhile play at CSC, especially since all the other reviews were favorable. The story of Harvard's secret trial of students suspected of being "homosexualists" and its devastating consequences remained virtually unknown for 80 years, until a student on the Harvard Crimson discovered the locked file that contained handwritten transcripts of the trial and Harvard was forced to make the information available. The Plastic Theatre, a collective led by Tony Speciale, has a process similar to that of Moises Kaufman's Tectonic Theater group (The Laramie Project). The group of actors and writers spent two years on research, character development and improvisation workshops to create this play. The results are mostly excellent. The few weak moments are outweighed by several scenes that pack a tremendous wallop. It's a rare pleasure to see an ensemble of 11 actors on a New York stage these days. One interesting point is that the same actors play both the young men on trial and their judges. Reducing the number of characters would no doubt have made things easier for both the creators and the audience, but verissimilitude took precedence. The acting is mostly strong and the set, costumes and especially the lighting all contribute greatly to the success of the production. The cast includes Jess Burkle, Joe Curnutte, Frank De Julio, Roe Hartrampf, Roderick Hill, Max Jenkins, Brad Koed, Jerry Marsini, Devin Norik, Will Rogers and Nick Westrate. Running time: 2hours, 10 minutes including intermission. Note: There is brief nudity.

The School for Lies ****

Have I died and gone to heaven or did I really just see four wonderful plays in a row? I am ready to forgive all the long hours I have spent suffereing through unworthy plays this season just to experience a week like this.  It began with The Book of Mormon, followed by The Normal Heart and The Motherf**ker with the Hat  andcame to a exhilarating conclusion with The School for Lies at Classic Stage Company. David Ives’ brilliant riff on Moliere’s Misanthrope was sheer pleasure, a triumph of style over substance. The uniformly superb cast, the marvelous costumes by William Ivey Long, the elegantly minimalist set by John Lee Beatty, the brilliant direction by Walter Bobbie are all outstanding, but the greatest praise must go to Ives for his ingenious rhymed couplets and his clever reworking of the plot. He mixes classic diction with modern slang, criticism of 17^th century French society with parody of contemporary America, witty lines with slapstick humor, all in an irresistible blend. Hamish Linklater and Mamie Gummer shine, as do all the others. Steven Boyer, Alison Fraser, Jenn Gambatese, Frank Harts, Rick Holmes, Hoon Lee and Matthew Maher each get at least one moment of glory. It has been a long time since I have laughed so hard or so often at the theater.  It’s a limited run. Get a ticket if you can!

Orlando **

Five reasons why you shouldn't take my comments on Sarah Ruhl's adaptation of Virginia Woolf's novel at CSC too seriously:
1. I haven't read the novel.
2. I haven't seen the movie with Tilda Swinton.
3. My previous experience with Sarah Ruhl's work has been, at best, mixed.
4. A little David Greenspan goes a long, long way for me.
5. When I saw it, I was under the influence of antihistamines and was in a semi-trancelike state.

Considering all that, it's no surprise that I didn't find the work compelling. The dominance of narration over dialog a la story theater was a distancing factor. Francesca Faridany made for a fetching Orlando, the three actors in the ensemble demonstrated admirable versatility, but Annika Boras as Sasha made little impression. The minimalist set worked well, the costumes and lighting were excellent, the choreographed movements were graceful, but for me it was all for naught.

I would very much like to hear dissenting opinions from those who have read the book and/or seen the film.