Burn This

C

It took me only a few minutes to realize that this was not a play that I could feel emotionally invested in. While I have very much enjoyed other plays by Lanford Wilson (Fifth of July, Talley’s Folly, Balm in Gilead), this one just did not speak to me. Mourning was a very real thing in the gay community in 1987 with AIDS taking a heavy toll. For a gay playwright to write a play with gay characters, dancers no less, and never even obliquely mention AIDS is puzzling. To choose a freak boating accident off Fire Island to kill off Robbie, the gay character his two roommates are mourning, seemed like a copout. Furthermore, the role of Larry, the surviving gay roommate, while excellently played by Brandon Uranowitz (Falsettos, An American in Paris), is a tired cliche — the neutered, wisecracking, loyal gay sidekick. Also, for an ad man to be living with two dancers seemed a stretch. Anna (Kerri Russell, Fat Pig, “The Americans”), an emotionally restrained dancer trying to make the transition to choreographer, was Robbie’s dance partner. Her boyfriend Burton (David Furr; Noises Off, The Explorers Club) is an entitled, stolid, wealthy screenwriter of sci-fi films who both craves and fears writing a love story. As the play opens, Anna has just returned from Robbie’s funeral, where his large working-class family assumed she was Robbie’s girlfriend. They did not know or would not admit Robbie was gay and had never even seen him dance. The long first scene with Anna, Larry and Burton has several dead spots. The play wakes up when Pale, Robbie’s older brother, bangs on the door in the middle of the night. Fueled by coke and liquor, Pale rants about urban life and any other topic that fleetingly crosses his mind. Manager of a New Jersey restaurant, he has a wife and two children in Coral Gables. His claim to closeness to his late brother seems undermined by the statement that Robbie was only seven when the 19-year-old Pale left home.  As played by Adam Driver (Man and Boy, Look Back in Anger, “Girls”), Pale is larger than life — a crude, vibrant force of nature who overcomes Anna’s initial revulsion by sheer animal attraction. The key scene when their relationship turns from shared mourning to lust did not convince me. Driver is indisputably impressive, but I found his version of Pale unmodulated and too prone to reach for laughs. As Anna, Kerri Russell is the one who is pale. In her defense, I think her part is underwritten. In any case, I did not find myself caring very much about these people. When my attention lagged, I enjoyed the beauty of Natasha Katz’s (The Prom, Hello Dolly!) changing lighting of the panorama of lower Manhattan seen through the loft’s huge windows at various times of the day. It is hard to imagine that Derek McLane’s (American Son, The Parisian Woman) huge loft ever existed at an affordable rent; it is probably a 7- or 8-figure condo today. Clint Ramos’s (Eclipsed, Once on This Island) costumes are very good at enhancing character. If there are hidden depths in the script, director Michael Mayer (Head Over Heels, Spring Awakening) did not find them. At two hours 40 minutes including intermission, it’s a long slog.

Noises Off ****

Roundabout Theatre Company’s revival of Michael Frayn’s classic 1982 farce has a lot going for it. The cast of nine populating a second-rate traveling theatrical company is uniformly strong. Andrea Martin is a delight as the well-named Dotty Otley, an actress near the end of her career beset by the difficulty of remembering stage business. Campbell Scott is just right as the smarmy, condescending director Lloyd Dallas, who is carrying on two simultaneous affairs. David Furr is delightful as the vapid Garry who seems unable to complete a sentence. Megan Hilty is perfection as the curvaceous bimbo whose acting skills are limited. Tracee Chimo, as assistant stage manager Poppy Norton-Taylor, is good, but doesn’t really get the chance to show her mettle to the extent that other recent roles have offered. Kate Jennings Grant, as Belinda Blair, the company gossip, is fine as the sanest person on the stage. Jeremy Shamos, who for good reason is rarely unemployed, is hilarious as the nervous wreck Frederick Fellowes who needs to know the motivation for every line. Rob McClure as the high-strung company and stage manager Tim Allgood brings trembling to a new level. Daniel Davis is a hoot as Selsdon Mowbray, whose appearance onstage requires keeping him away from the bottle. Set designer Derek McLane captures the look of a Tudor-style country modernized for the taste of the 1970’s. Michael Krass’s costumes present some of the excesses of that decade with wicked fun. We get to see the first act of “Nothing On,” the ridiculous bedroom farce the company is presenting, three times, with escalating chaos. The first is at the late-night dress rehearsal. The second, a month later, is seen from backstage, where the manic off-stage cast and crew are acting out their own wordless scene. The final time is from the point of view of the audience near the end of the play’s tour. Director Jeremy Herrin keeps everything running like clockwork. Lorenzo Pisoni deserves special mention for his fine work as comedy stunt coordinator. An added treat is tucked into the Playbill -- Frayn's amusing program book for "Nothing On." If the play has a flaw, it is its length. Can there be too much of a good thing? Two hours twenty five minutes seemed a bit too long for something so slight.

The Explorers Club ***

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
If you go to Nell Benjamin's new play now in previews at Manhattan Theatre Club's Stage I, be sure to arrive a few minutes early so you will have time to savor Donyale Werle's spectacular set. Just seeing this recreation of a Victorian men's club in London with its dark paneling, oriental rugs, stuffed animals, animal heads, horns, tusks and pelts, shrunken heads, spears and swords is almost worth the price of admission. Another reason to see the show is a brilliant piece of stage business in the second act that elicits appreciative gasps from the audience each time it is repeated. A final plus is the superb ensemble cast giving their all to animate what is billed as a "madcap comedy." Carson Elrod, who was so good in All in the Timing recently, is wonderful as Luigi, the blue-painted native brought back from the Lost City by Phyllida Spot-Hume (Jennifer Westfeldt), who would like to become the first woman in the Explorers Club. Lorenzo Pisoni, who usually plays a heartthrob, is cast against type as Lucius Fretway, a shy, clumsy botanist who yearns for Phyllida. David Furr is delightful as Harry Percy, the club's none-too-bright president, whose expeditions have an unusually high mortality rate. John McMartin is droll as a Professor of Bible Science whose hypothesis that the Irish are the lost tribes of Israel causes an international incident. A snafu when Luigi is presented to the Queen leads to a declaration of war. Act One gets a bit bogged down in exposition and seems more like satire than farce. Act two, however, rises to hilarity several times. I wish the humor had been more consistently maintained, but it would be churlish to dislike a play that is so amiable. Anita Yavich's costumes are excellent. Marc Bruni's direction is mostly smooth. Running time: one hour, 50 minutes with intermission.