Once Upon a Mattress

B+

The widely acclaimed Encores production of this 1959 Broadway show with music by Mary Rogers, book by Jay Thompson, Marshall Barer and Dean Fuller, and lyrics by Barer has transferred comfortably to the Hudson Theatre. The book, which sometimes seems patched together and a bit padded, is a sly retelling of the fairy tale of The Princess and the Pea. Sutton Foster, with the unenviable task of following in the footsteps of Carol Burnett, who created the role of Princess Winnifred, is a resounding success. Her madcap physical humor raises slapstick to astral heights and her voice is fine too. She is the main reason to see the show. Until she appears well into the first act, things are becoming a bit draggy, but when she is onstage, the audience is fully engaged. One of the main reasons I wanted to see the show was because Michael Urie was playing Prince Dauntless. Unfortunately, he was out for my performance. His understudy, Daniel Beeman, was perfectly respectable, but lacked the extra spark that Urie brings to his roles.  Ana Gasteyer makes a fine strong-willed Queen Aggravain and David Patrick Kelly does well as King Sextimus the Silent. Will Chase and Nikki Renee Daniels are appealing as the young lovers, Sir Harry and Lady Larken. Brooks Ashmanskas is droll as the wizard. Daniel Breaker does what he can with the underwritten role of the jester. The scenic design by David Zinn is typical for a show that originated at Encores, with a few platforms deep enough to hold chairs and other props in front of the orchestra filling the back of the stage. There are lots of banners, some with anachronistic pictures, e.g. a NYC taxi, for which I did not see the point. The costumes by Andrea Hood are bright and colorful. The choreography by Lauren Latarro is lively. The direction by Lear deBessonet keeps thing moving smoothly. The music serves the show well and the lyrics are often clever. If your funny bone could use a good tickle, this is the show for you. Running time: two hours fifteen minutes including intermission.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                 

Miss You Like Hell

C

Take some social issues — an unforgiving immigration policy, a broken justice system, suicidal teenage depression, Latin pride, same-sex marriage — add music, shake lightly, sprinkle with a dash of feminism, and you might end up with something like the new musical at the Public Theater. The book by Pulitzer winner Quiara Alegria Hudes (In the Heights, Water by the Spoonful) is actually a reworking and musicalization of her earlier play 26 Miles. The two principal characters are Beatriz (Daphne Rubin-Vega; Daphne's Dive, Rent), an undocumented immigrant from Mexico, and Olivia (Gizel Jimenez; Party People), the 16-year-old daughter she had with an Anglo-American. Olivia lives with her father in Philadelphia and has not seen her mother in four years since Beatriz took off for California. Beatriz suddenly shows up in the middle of the night, allegedly to spend a week with her daughter after reading her suicidal threats on her blog “Castaways.” Her ulterior motive is to get Olivia to California to testify as a character witness in her final hearing before possible deportation. How a 16-year-daughter who hasn’t seen her mother in four years could serve as a plausible character witness is one of the weakest plot points. Olivia reluctantly agrees on the condition that they stop at Yellowstone so she can meet Pearl (Latoya Edwards; Polkadots), a young park ranger who is a loyal reader of her blog. Along the way they meet Higgins (David Patrick Kelly; Once) and Mo (Michael Mulheren; Kiss Me, Kate), a gay couple who are on a mission to renew their vows in all 50 states, and Manuel (Danny Bolero; In the Heights), a widowed tamale vendor. The diverse ensemble cast also includes Marinda Anderson, Andrew Cristi, Shawna M. Hamic and Marcus Paul James. Ms. Rubin-Vega and Ms. Jimenez are both quite strong in their roles. The music by Erin McKeown, in a variety of generic styles, is serviceable. The scenic design by Riccardo Hernandez (Indecent, The Invisible Hand) reconfigures the Newman Theater to offer a deep square stage platform with two rows of audience seats on the sides and seats for the performers at the rear. Emilio Sosa (On Your Feet!, Sex with Strangers) has costumed the characters aptly. The lighting design by Tyler Micoleau is important to varying the mood. Lear deBessonet (The Tempest, Venus) directed. I really wanted to like it, but was disappointed that it did not offer any real illumination on the many issues it touched on. Honesty requires that I report that most of the audience seemed quite enthusiastic. 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.

Therese Raquin **

The best reason to see this Roundabout production, an uneven adaptation of Zola’s 1867 novel by British playwright Helen Edmundson, is the spectacular set design by Beowulf Boritt. From the simple suggestion of a village cottage to a fully detailed sepulchral Paris apartment that falls from above as if to crush the characters to a skylit attic suspended in the night sky to a riverbank complete with water and rowboat, he sets the right note for this tale of limited choices, adultery, murder and guilt. His sets at least give you a focus for your attention during the glacially paced first act. As the title character, Keira Knightley doesn’t get to do much except stare soulfully during the first half hour. The always watchable Judith Light is fine as her aunt and soon-to-be mother-in-law. It is easy to understand why Therese is repelled by her sickly, spoiled cousin-then-husband Camille (Gabriel Ebert) and even easier to understand why she is magnetically attracted to his childhood chum Laurent (Matt Ryan) whom Camille runs into in Paris and, unfortunately for him, brings home to meet the family. Their sex scenes are brief and brutish.The habitués of Madame Raquin’s Thursday domino sessions — Monsieur Grivet (Jeff Still), Superintendent Michaud (David Patrick Kelly) snd his niece Suzanne (Mary Wiseman) — do not get much development. The pace picks up from late in the first act to midway through the second act. The subsequent descent into guilt and madness seemed anticlimactic. The use of many brief scenes seemed more suitable for film than the stage. Jane Greenwood’s costumes are appropriate. Keith Parham’s lighting is excellent. I did not care for the sound design and music by Josh Schmidt. The suggestions of Camille’s continued presence seemed out of a B movie. Director Evan Cabnet really should have picked up the pace a bit during the play’s early scenes. My interest lagged, but I really liked the sets. Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including intermission. On the afternoon I attended, the performance was followed by a 25-minute Q&A with five of the actors which I enjoyed more than the play.