King James

 B

After well-received runs at Steppenwolf in Chicago and Center Theatre Group in Los Angeles, Rajiv Joseph’s (Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, Describe the Night) two-character play about fandom and friendship has reached New York in a Manhattan Theatre Club production at City Center Stage I. The royal personage of the title is LeBron James, whose basketball career in and out of the Cleveland Cavaliers is the focus of both devotion and frustration for Matt, a manically neurotic wine bar manager, and relatively more grounded Shawn, a would-be writer, who meet when Matt is forced by financial problems to sell his season tickets to the Cavs. The two bond over their shared fandom and become good friends. We observe the ups and downs of their friendship over twelve years at four key moments in LeBron James’s career. Luckily for us, the roles of Matt and Shawn are performed by Chris Perfetti (Sons of the Prophet, The Tutors) and Glenn Davis (Downstate, Wig Out!), who play exceptionally well together. The playwright shows us how shared fandom can serve as a socially acceptable basis for a platonic bromance. Matt is white and Shawn is black, a fact that becomes relevant for a brief scene late in the play. The lively dialog has a convincingly natural flow but I would have liked a stronger narrative arc. Todd Rosenthal’s (August Osage County, Linda Vista) set for the first act presents the rather generic looking wine bar where Matt works; the second act is set in the funky antiques cum upholstery store owned by Matt’s parents, which offers lots of interesting objects to look at. The costumes by Samantha C. Jones are apt. Kenny Leon’s (Soldier’s Play, Topdog/Underdog) direction is smooth. My only serious objection is to the inclusion of a DJ (Khloe Janel) who plays loud hip-hop music before the play and during intermission. Do we really need a trendy version of the national anthem complete with crowd noise before the play begins? In case you are concerned that the play is strictly for knowledgeable sports fans, you need not worry. It is completely accessible to all. Running time: two hours ten minutes including intermission

Moscow, Moscow, Moscow, Moscow, Moscow, Moscow

B-

Poor Chekhov! Playwrights just can’t seem to resist putting their own stamp on his plays. Last month we got an encore run of Life Sucks., Aaron Posner’s quirky riff on Uncle Vanya. Now MCC Theater is presenting the New York premiere of Halley Feiffer’s (The Pain of My Belligerence, I’m Gonna Pray for You So Hard) deconstruction of Three Sisters, which played at Wiiliamstown Theatre Festival two summers ago. Of the two adaptations, Feiffer’s is by far the more entertaining and is probably the truer to Chekhov. Feiffer gives us the original characters in exaggerated versions who leave no thought unsaid. The dialogue is anachronistic, coarse and often very funny. Feiffer daringly makes each sister so unsympathetic in her opening monologue that it is not easy to win our sympathy; she mostly succeeds at meeting this challenge. This production dials up the volume with provocative casting involving bending gender, changing race and introducing dwarfism. Somehow it works, probably because the actors are so convincing in their roles. Rebecca Henderson’s (The Wayside Motor Inn) Olga raises self-deprecation to an art form. Chris Perfetti (The Low Road) is so persuasive as Masha that it seems completely unremarkable for the role to be played by a man. Tavi Gevinson (This Is Our Youth, Days of Rage) captures both Irina’s allure and her aimlessness. As their feckless brother Andrey, Greg Hildreth (The Robber Bridegroom) is appropriately conflicted. Sas Goldberg (Significant Other) smoothly accomplishes the transformation of Natasha from target of scorn to tyrant. Steven Boyer (Hand to God, Time and the Conways) is tender and pathetic as Irina’s suitor Tuzenbach. Casting Solyony with a dwarf, the excellent Matthew Jeffers (Light Shining in Buckinghamshire), makes the universal scorn he receives even more uncomfortable. Alfredo Narciso (Time and the Conways) makes Vershinin both sexy and pitiful. As Masha’s husband Kulygin, Ryan Spahn (Gloria) is appropriately irritating. Ray Anthony Thomas (Jitney) brings pathos to the role of Dr. Chebutykin. Ako (God Said This) makes a strong impression as the family’s ancient servant Anfisa. As minor civil servant Ferapont, Gene Jones (The Trip to Bountiful) is aptly bumbling. The humor of the first act is less in evidence after intermission. By the end, we are more saddened than amused. Director Trip Cullman (Choir Boy, Lobby Hero), Feiffer’s frequent collaborator, shows great affinity for her sensibility. The production shows off MCC’s black box theater to great advantage. With the audience sitting on facing sides of the raised stage platform, no one is more than four rows from the actors. The key visual element of Mark Wendland’s (The Pain of My Belligerence) scenic design is a large illuminated “Moscow” sign over a diorama of the city at one end of the auditorium. Paloma Young’s (Peter and the Starcatcher) costumes mix period gowns with modern tee shirts and hoodies. I was frequently entertained along the way, but when it was over I had to ask myself what the point was. I don’t see what contribution Feiffer has made to the appreciation of Chekhov. I would like to declare a hundred-year moratorium on adapting or deconstructing his works. Running time: 2 hours including intermission. NOTE: I strongly urge you to brush up on Three Sisters before attending.

The Low Road

B

Five years after its premiere at the Royal Court Theatre in London, this picaresque epic by Bruce Norris (The Pain and the Itch, Clybourne Park) has arrived in New York at the Public Theater. Jim Trewitt (Norris has changed the last name of the lead character from Trumpett so audiences would not think he was writing with our president in mind), played by Chris Perfetti (Six Degrees of Separation, Everybody), could be a mashup of Tom Jones, Candide and Michael Milken. Left on the doorstep of a brothel as a baby, he has been raised by the brothel owner Mrs. Trewitt (Harriet Harris, ever a delight; The Roads to Home, It Shouda Been You) to believe that he is the illegitimate son of George Washington. At a tender age, he is exposed to the works of Adam Smith and decides to make the practice of free-market capitalism his life’s mission. Smith, by the way, drolly personified by Daniel Davis (Wrong Mountain, Noises Off), is our narrator. In his ruthless pursuit of wealth, Trewitt defrauds the prostitutes to build a stake for his future dealings. He purchases an educated slave, John Blanke (the charismatic Chukwudi Imuji; Hamlet and King Lear at the Public), who had been the ward and intended heir of a British nobleman. The two spend some time in a New England religious community where there is a spirited debate about the relative merits of altruism and selfishness. Trewitt is captured by Hessian mercenaries and threatened with execution. We are suddenly diverted to the very recent past where a blue-ribbon panel is bloviating at a Davos-like conference not long after the financial meltdown of 2007-8. After their session is rudely interrupted, we return to the story of Jim Trewitt who, of course, has not been executed and has survived to pursue his career under the patronage of Isaac Low (an amusing Kevin Chamberlain; Dirty Blonde, The Ritz), a wealthy New York businessman. His financial shenanigans closely resemble the maneuvers that brought about our recent collapse. Will he get his comeuppance? I’ll let you guess. While the play has lots of amusing moments, the targets of satire sometimes seem too easy to hit. The picaresque tale and the cautionary economics lesson do not cohere smoothly. Nevertheless, it is quite entertaining and I will never complain when a production offers the opportunity to see such stalwart actors as Harriet Harris, Kevin Chamberlain and Daniel Davis. While Chris Perfetti is fine as Trewitt, I would have loved the chance to see Johnny Flynn in the role he originated. Alas, Mr. Flynn is otherwise occupied in the cast of Hangmen at the Atlantic Theater and has not yet mastered the ability to be two places at once. The other members of the 17-person cast, most of whom play multiple roles, are fine. The set design by David Korins (War Paint, Hamilton) is elegantly flexible and the costumes by Emily Rebholz (Mary Jane, Indecent) add a lot to the production. Director Michael Greif (Dear Evan Hansen, A Parallelogram) directs with confident control of a complicated work. While it’s not up there with Norris’s finest work, it offers enough to enjoy to make the experience worthwhile. Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including intermission.

Six Degrees of Separation

B-

It isn’t often these days that you see a straight play with 18 actors on Broadway, so I salute the producers for bringing us this expensive revival. John Guare’s popular 1990 send-up of limousine liberals is based on a true story about a young man (the excellent Corey Hawkins) who passes himself off as Paul Poitier, son of actor Sidney, to worm his way into the homes of several wealthy East Side couples who should know better.The story is told by one such couple, art dealer Flan Kittredge (a surprisingly underwhelming John Benjamin Hickey) and his wife Ouisa (Allison Janney, competent but no match for my memories of Stockard Channing),. “Paul” is well dressed, charming and articulate, knows details about their children at Harvard, and  dangles the promise of casting them in the film Cats that his father is coming to New York to direct. They let him stay overnight. When Ouisa goes to wake him the next morning, he is in bed with a hustler (James Cusati-Moyer). During the long scene in which his hosts chase him around the apartment, the naked hustler has ample time to demonstrate that he has all the requisites for a successful career. Later the Kittredges learn that their friends Kitty (Lisa Emery) and Larkin (Michael Countryman) had their own encounter with “Paul” the previous night. We eventually meet their horrid children (Colby Minifie, Keenan Jolliff and Ned Riseley) who are portrayed as cartoon characters. Chris Perfetti fares better as Trent, the young man who has inadvertently set the events in motion. My biggest complaint about the play is the episode in which “Paul” cons two young would-be actors from Utah (Peter Mark Kendall and Sarah Mezzanotte) with tragic results. It is an abrupt shift from the satire of the rest of the play. I found director Trip Cullman’s approach to the play generally too broad. Mark Wendland’s set is very red and very tall. Clint Ramos’s costumes are fine. The play aspires to deeper meanings that it never reaches. Running time: one hour 40 minutes, no intermission.

Everybody

C-

No one can accuse playwright Branden Jacobs-Jenkins (Appropriate, An Octoroon, Gloria, War) of repeating himself. Each play has been unlike its predecessor; the only common denominator (except for War) was their intelligence and theatricality. His latest effort, part of his residency at Signature Theatre, is a deconstruction of the 15th century Middle English morality play Everyman. In that tale, God enlists his assistant Death to lead Everyman to his final reckoning. Death consents to his plea to be allowed to bring someone else along, but no one is willing to make the journey with him. In this version, the lead character has been changed to the gender-neutral Everybody. The play has a gimmick: five actors (Brooke Bloom, Michael Braun, Louis Cancelmi, David Patrick Kelly and Lakisha Michelle May) draw lots to determine who will play Everybody and four other roles at each performance. There are 120 possible combinations. The other four actors (Jocelyn Bioh, Marylouise Burke, Liyana Tiare Cornell and Chris Perfetti) have the same role each time. Burke’s version of Death is so delightful that it hard to remember that one should be frightened. Bioh is also a treat as God and another role that I won’t give away. Friendship, Kinship, Cousinship and Stuff decide not to accompany Everybody, as do late arrivals Strength, Mind, Beauty and Senses. Although Catholicism is briefly mentioned once, religion is surprisingly absent from the play. A character not in the original, Love (Perfetti), turns up late in the play and, puzzlingly, proceeds to put Everybody through a series of humiliations as a price for accompanying him (or her). Only Love and Shitty Evil Things stick around for Everybody’s final journey. The emerging moral seemed muddled. I also think that a lot depends on who is playing Everybody; one reacts differently to the fate of a pregnant woman vs. a white-haired man. In another departure by the playwright, perhaps to break the monotony, there are several blackout scenes during which we hear friends arguing with a dying friend who is telling the play's story as if it were her recurrent dream. I, for one, do not enjoy sitting in the dark listening to disembodied voices. Brief reference someone makes to racial insensitivity seems to have no connection to the play. In another blackout scene we get a marvelous pair of dancing skeletons. The central feature of Laura Jellinek’s set is a row of seats facing the audience identical to ours. Gabriel Berry’s costumes are excellent. The lighting design by Matt Frey enhances the production greatly. Lila Neugebauer (The Wayside Motor Inn, The Wolves) directs with assurance. There is cleverness in abundance, but I was not moved. I suspect that those in the production were having a better time than those in the audience. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

Cloud Nine *** (performance) / zero stars (audience comfort)

There were two problems interfering with my enjoyment of the Atlantic Theater revival of this groundbreaking Caryl Churchill play from 1979 now previewing at the Linda Gross Theater. First, my fond memories of the 1981 production at the Theater de Lys set the bar extremely high. Secondly, the seating is terribly uncomfortable. In principle, I have no objection to the theater’s decision to spend what was no doubt a large amount of money to pull out all the seats and erect stadium-like bleachers to provide theater in the round. Director James Macdonald had great success with that formula when he staged “Cock” three years ago. At least this time the seats are padded and have backs. However, in order to preserve the usual number of seats, they skimped on the space between rows. If you are of average height or taller, there is simply not enough legroom and there are no seat arms for stability. It is hard to concentrate on the actors when you are struggling to find room for your legs. It’s a shame, because both the play and the production have their merits. Churchill has devised a complicated scheme whereby the first act takes place in colonial Africa in 1880, the second act takes place in London a century later, but the three characters carried over from the first act have only aged 25 years and are played by different actors. Clive (Clarke Thorell) is an English functionary in a colonial outpost. His wife Betty (Chris Perfetti) [who the playwright specifies must be played by a man], their effeminate son Edward (Brooke Bloom) [specified to be played by a woman], their daughter Victoria [played by a doll], the children’s governess Ellen (Izzie Steele) and Betty’s mother Maud (Lucy Owen) are soon joined by an explorer friend Harry Bagley (John Sanders).The family’s African manservant is Joshua (Sean Dugan) [specified to be played by a Caucasian]. Their neighbor Mrs. Saunders [specified to be played by the same actress who plays Ellen] moves in when she becomes alarmed at the prospect of native unrest. An age of sexual repression doesn’t slow down this crowd much. We soon learn of pederasty, homosexuality, lesbianism, interracial sex and adultery. The style of the first act is heightened and a bit arch. In the second, much more naturalistic act, we once again meet Betty (now played by Bloom), Edward (now played by Perfetti) and Victoria (now played by  Owen). New are Gerry (Dugan), Edward’s promiscuous roommate; Lin (Steele), a single mother and lesbian with a free-spirited young daughter Cathy (Thorell) [specified to be played by a man] and Victoria’s husband Martin (Sanders). There is a brief appearance by Lin’s brother Bill (Thorell again). For an age of sexual liberation, the playwright adds incest and orgies to the activities of act one. Liberation has not brought much happiness to the characters, except for Betty who finally manages to find a path forward. I remember the play’s final moment where she achieves self-integration as magical in 1981. It didn’t have that effect on me this time. I could not help feeling nostalgic for the time in which act two is set — just before AIDS put a damper on sexual liberation and the worst international crisis was conflict in Northern Ireland. The actors are fine without exception and it is fun to see them change roles. Credit — or blame —Dane Laffrey for the set. Gabriel Berry’s costumes are fine. Dialect coach Ben Furey has done his job well. It is good that Atlantic has revived the play that brought Caryl Churchill to major attention. If only they had given some thought to audience comfort. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes including intermission.

The Tutors **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
In Erica Lipez's new play at Second Stage Uptown, we meet Joe, Toby and Heidi, friends since college and now roommates, struggling with very little success to make a go of their Facebook-wanabee website. Toby (Keith Nobbs) and Heidi (Audrey Dollar) put in lonely hours running the website while outside man Joe (Matt Dellapina) allegedly tries to line up investors. To support themselves, Joe and Toby tutor wealthy high school students, while Heidi edits admission essays online. She has fantasies about Kwan (Louis Ozawa Changchien), a client from Hong Kong, whom she turns into an imaginary confidant and lover. And then the real Kwan shows up. Last but not least is Milo (Chris Perfetti), a spoiled rich kid who disrupts the status quo when he blackmails his way into their lives. The situations are intriguing, the characters are vivid, the cast is excellent, but the play seemed like it needed more work. The ending is particularly flat. Rachel Hauck's set captures the feel of an apartment shared by three young people. Heidi's messy bedroom speaks volumes about her. Jessica Jahn's costumes are inconspicuously appropriate. Thomas Kail's direction is assured. The play has its flaws, but it reveals a talent to watch. Running time: 2 hours, 5 minutes with intermission.