Little Women

C+

Keeping up with Kate Hamill’s recreations of classic novels has been a case of diminishing returns. Her take on Sense & Sensibility with Bedlam was sheer joy and set the bar very high. I missed Vanity Fair but was disappointed in Pride and Prejudice for lacking the inventiveness of her earlier Austen adaptation. For me, this reworking of Alcott, in a Primary Stages production at the Cherry Lane Theatre, is another downward step. Hamill’s version is almost bipolar, with a first act that is basically faithful to Alcott but a second act that is more Hamill than Alcott. She significantly alters the character and fate of Jo, omits a key character, manages to make Amy completely unsympathetic and drops an interesting thread relating to Laurie’s sexuality. On the plus side, the play provides meaty roles for two exciting young actors — Kristolyn Lloyd (Blue Ridge) as Jo and Nate Mann (fresh out of Juilliard) as Laurie. Her sisters Meg, Beth and Amy are played respectively by Hamill, Paola Sanchez Abreu (The Wolves) and Carmen Zilles (Small Mouth Sounds). Hamill’s Meg was disappointing, Abreu’s Beth was serviceable and Zilles’s Amy was relentlessly annoying. Michael Crane (Gloria) is fine as Brooks and Dashwood but inspired as a parrot (more about that later). John Lenartz (Inherit the Wind), who also plays Mr. Laurence, and Maria Elena Ramirez (Fish in the Dark), who also plays Aunt March, are solid as the girls’ parents and Ellen Harvey (Present Laughter) is fine as Hannah and Mrs. Mingott. Except for the fact that Jo is dressed in men’s clothes from the beginning, the first act stays fairly close to the book. It is wildly uneven, with scenes ranging from touching to leaden. I doubt there were many dry eyes in the house when the March family is reunited at Christmas. After intermission, things go seriously astray. A scene for Aunt March, Jo and Amy includes the parrot, which is good for a few laughs, but seems completely incongruous with everything else. Amy’s act of spite against Jo, invented by Hamill, was hard to believe. As in the book, I found it difficult to grasp how someone attracted to Jo could also be attracted to Amy. The extra burden of feminism placed on Jo essentially changes Alcott’s message. The two-level set by Mikiko Suzuki MacAdams fills in the framework of the March home with a minimum of furnishings. Valerie Therese Bart’s period costumes are fine. Sarna Lapine’s (Sunday in the Park with George) direction occasionally lets scenes lag. If you love Alcott’s novel, you will probably enjoy the first act. If you are expecting an experience as bracing as one of Hamill’s Austen adaptations, you will probably be disappointed. Running time: two hours five minutes, including intermission.

Summer Shorts: Series B *

The second installment of the Summer Shorts Festival of New American Short Plays at 59E59 Theater features works by Lucy Thurber (The Hill Town Plays), Robert O’Hara (Bootycandy) and Stella Fawn Ragsdale.

In Thurber’s Unstuck we meet Pete (Alfredo Narciso), a man too depressed to leave the house even on his birthday. In three scenes he interacts with his sister Jackie (Lauren Blumenfeld) who badgers him to critique her hilariously inept tap-dance routine, his narcissistic friend Sara (Carmen Zilles), who offers him a birthday cupcake and a song and, finally, his patient live-in girlfriend Deirdre (KK Moggie), who tries to snap him out of his depression. Unfortunately Pete’s lethargy was contagious and, for me, more than cancelled out the liveliness of the three women. Laura Savia directed.

O’Hara’s Built has an interesting premise. Mrs. Back (Merritt Janson), a disgraced former teacher has a rendezvous with Mason (Justin Bernegger), a studly 25-year-old with whom she had sex at school 10 years ago. Their encounter is more than a little kinky. The brief male nudity suggests why she found him so irresistible. Their perspectives on their earlier relationship differ. Unfortunately, the play ends with a twist that comes out of nowhere and makes very little sense. Bernegger certainly gives it his all. Who was it who said that there’s nothing wrong with being an exhibitionist as long as you put on a good show? The playwright directed.

Ragsdale’s Love Letters to a Dictator gets off to a bad start and never recovers. Stella (Colby Minifie, recently in Punk Rock), a farm woman with the same name as the playwright enters with a large laundry basket under her arm. Instead of setting the basket down and sitting, she balances on one foot struggling to take her boots off while still holding the basket. Nothing that follows makes much sense either. Stella has left her family behind in Tennessee to move to New York to be a writer. It is also mentioned that she left to avoid ostracism over the wrong kind of love. Unable to adjust to city life, she moves to a farm in the Hudson Valley. Out of the blue she begins corresponding with the North Korean dictator and seeks his advice over whether to return home. She hangs her correspondence from clothespins on a line that stretches across the stage. When Kim Jong-Il dies, she writes a final letter. That’s about it. Logan Vaughn directed.

While the actors in all three plays were commendable, the material did not rise very far above the level of exercises for a playwriting workshop. The sets and costumes were by the same people who designed Series A. Running time: 75 minutes, no intermission. It seemed longer.

Chimichangas and Zoloft **

(Please click on the title to read the entire review.)
In the unlikely event that I remember this Atlantic Stage 2 production by Fernanda Coppel at all a year from now, it will be as the play that begins with a fart. The characters are two 15-year old best friends, Penelope Lopez (Xochitl Romero) and Jackie Martinez (Carmen Zilles); their fathers Alejandro Lopez (Alfredo Narciso), a bartender, and Ricardo Martinez (Teddy Cañez), an attorney; and the extremely depressed Sonia Martinez (Zabryna Guevara), who is taking a vacation from the roles of wife and mother. Except for a very brief scene near play's end, Sonia is presented only through a series of overwritten monologues. The teenagers address each other as "dude" with annoying frequency. Their fathers are hiding a sexual secret which is less of a secret than they suppose. The reason that Penelope has no mother is never explained. Each scene begins with a rather pointless projected title. Setting the play in a Mexican-American L.A. neighborhood gives it a bit of ethnic flavor, but the situations are not particular to any community. The ending of the play is so low key that I didn't realize it was over. The play is not without interest, but simply doesn't seem ready for public viewing. Jaime Castañeda directed. Running time: 90 minutes without intermission. Note: Atlantic Stage 2 is not an audience-friendly theater. Some of the rows are not staggered. Avoid seats in Row A, because there is a Row AA in front of it and no rake. Since the stage, unlike most theaters, is not elevated, it is often hard to see the actors.