Mary Jane

A-

No, it has nothing to do with marijuana. I’m not sure why Amy Herzog (4000 Miles, Belleville) chose that name for her title character, but anyone expecting her new play at New York Theatre Workshop to be a cannabis-related story will be disappointed. Everyone else should be stirred by this compassionate portrait of a young woman who must deal every day with one of life’s great tragedies, caring for a child who has been severely impaired since his premature birth. Alex, now two, cannot speak, hold his head up or eat solid food. His father could not deal with it and left. Fortunately the audience is spared the grief of seeing Alex. What we do see is several moments in the life of Mary Jane (a superb Carrie Coon; Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, "The Leftovers") during which she interacts with various women: her super, Ruthie (Brenda Wehle; The Crucible); her conscientious visiting nurse Sherry (Liza Colon-Zayas; Between Riverside and Crazy); Brianne (Susan Pourfar; Tribes), the mother of a newly diagnosed child who turns to Mary Jane for advice about what to expect; Sherry’s college-age niece Amelia (Danaya Esperanza); Dr. Toros (Colon-Zayas again), Alex’s physician; Chaya (Pourfar), a Hasidic mother of seven; Kat (Esperanza), a music therapist; and Tenkei (Wehle), a Buddhist nun. Herzog captures the heroic nature of Mary Jane’s daily struggle without placing her on a pedestal. Coon’s naturalistic portrayal is immensely powerful. The other actors are strong as well. There are flashes of humor, but one does not expect a happy ending. The low-key final scene initially disappointed me, but, on further reflection, I decided that its tentativeness supported the play’s honesty. Laura Jellinek’s realistic set design of a cluttered apartment in Queens converts effortlessly to another completely different setting. Emily Rebholz’s costumes look appropriately lived-in. Anne Kauffman (Belleville, Marjorie Prime, Detroit, The Nether) directs with her usual skill. It was a heartbreaking, but also uplifting experience. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

Placebo *

I very much enjoyed the Playwrights Horizons production of “This,” the first play I saw by Melissa James Gibson several years ago, but it’s been downhill since then. The second play I saw, “What Rhymes with America” at the Atlantic, left me cold. Now Gibson has returned to Playwrights Horizons with “Placebo,” which might be subtitled “Four Characters and a Vending Machine in Search of a Play.” Louise (Carrie Coon) is a graduate student in female sexuality, earning money by working with patients enrolled in a double-blind study of an experimental drug to increase female libido. Mary (Florencia Lozano) is one of the patients who is eager to know whether she is receiving the new drug or the placebo. Louise has lived for four years with Jonathan (William Jackson Harper), a 7th year graduate student in Classics who has hit a brick wall in his dissertation on Pliny the Elder. (The fact that Jonathan is played by a black actor seems to be of no significance to the plot, such as it is.) Louise tells her dying mother the white lie that she and Jonathan are getting married soon. Jonathan does not find Louise’s attempts to be supportive helpful. Tom (Alex Hurt), who works for another study at the hospital, becomes friendly with Louise. The game they play with a vending machine is the liveliest scene in the play. The experimental drug study and the placebo abruptly disappear from view and the action shifts to the troubled relationship between Louise and Jonathan. The play ends with a very long, often ludicrous scene of them breaking up — or not. I found the characters little more than collections of tics despite the efforts of an appealing cast to breathe some life into them. The play is not helped by David Zinn’s dreary and confusing set which uses the entire width of the theater to represent both the hospital and Jonathan’s apartment. I’m not sure what more director Daniel Aukin could have done with this material. Gibson seems to appeal to the younger generation; the audience included a group of twenty-somethings who whooped and hollered at every opportunity. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes, no intermission.

NOTE: Why the sudden spate of one-word play titles beginning with P— Pocatello, Posterity, Placebo, Permission?

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf *****

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
Edward Albee could not have hoped for a better way to celebrate his landmark play's 50th anniversary than opening night for a sensational Broadway revival that demonstrates the play's continuing power. This production at the Booth has been imported intact from Chicago's Steppenwolf Theatre with two Tony winners in tow. Amy Morton, who was so impressive in August: Osage County, gives a nuanced performance as Martha, showing the human behind the harridan. Tracy Letts, who won for writing August: Osage County, is no less impressive as actor than he was as playwright. His riveting characterization of George is the revelation of the evening. The supporting actors, Madison Dirks and Carrie Coon as Nick and Honey, are both fine. I had forgotten how hilarious much of the dialogue is. The big third act reveal still doesn't work for me and the play is a bit longer than it needs to be, but these are mere quibbles compared to all that is so right about this production. Todd Rosenthal's set looks exactly like a professor's house should and Nan Cibula-Jenkins' costumes are just right. Pam MacKinnon's assured direction is flawless. Running time: 3 hours, 10 minutes including two intermissions.

Note: For a very interesting essay on this production, see www.bsonarts.com.