Three Tall Women

A-

What a thrill it is to see Glenda Jackson (Marat/Sade, Strange Interlude) onstage in the Broadway debut of the 1991 play that restored Edward Albee’s reputation and won him a third Pulitzer Prize. In the role of ‘A,’ the 91- or 92-year-old woman allegedly based on Albee’s adoptive mother, she is absolutely mesmerizing. Her embodiment of the indignities of advanced age is painful to see. Her casual bigotry and spitefulness should repel us, but she commands our respect and sympathy too. She is such a forceful presence that even as superb an actor as Tony-awarded Laurie Metcalf (A Doll's House, Part 2), who plays the 52-year-old ‘B,’ her long-suffering caretaker, almost fades into the background when they share the stage. Alison Pill (The Lieutenant of Inishmore, Blackbird) as 'C,' the callow 26-year-old lawyer sent to sort out A's financial mess, has the unenviable task of holding her own against these two theatrical titans. While A’s failing health causes her daily indignities, she still has vivid reminiscences of her youth to share. Some are painful, but others are hilarious. A sudden stroke interrupts her stories and ends the first act. Almost without a pause, we see an elegantly dressed B and C discussing the A lying in bed. Suddenly A saunters in in fine attire minus the physical and mental problems she had previously displayed. We soon realize that the three women now represent A at three stages of her life, with three very different perspectives. We gain a better understanding of how she became the A of Act One. They discuss which is the happiest stage of life and unite briefly at the end. Miriam Buether's (The Children; A Doll's House, Part 2) set design creates a lavish bedroom befitting a woman of wealth. Ann Roth's (The Nance, A Delicate Balance) costumes are both attractive and helpful in defining the characters. Joe Mantello's (The Humans, Casa Valentina) direction is fluid. I do have some reservations about this production. I feel that Laurie Metcalf is miscast. While she is fine as the caretaker in Act One, I found her hard to accept as the middle-aged version of A in Act Two. While I could picture Alison Pill eventually turning into Glenda Jackson, I could not envision Laurie Metcalf as the intermediate stage of that process. I also thought it was a mistake to omit the intermission between acts. I needed a few moments to absorb what had transpired in Act One before being presented with the altered world of Act Two. Finally, I was surprised that the actor who plays A’s estranged son gets no credit in the Playbill. Admittedly, it’s a small nonspeaking role, but it is a role. My reservations should in no way discourage you from rushing to get tickets. The experience of seeing Glenda Jackson onstage is not to be missed. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

Edward Albee’s At Home at the Zoo: Homelife & The Zoo Story

A-

About a decade ago, Edward Albee wrote Homelife, a one-act play that is set immediately before the action of The Zoo Story. Homelife fleshes out the character of Peter (Robert Sean Leonard; The Invention of Love) so we have more insight into this seemingly complacent textbook publisher before his memorable confrontation with the volatile Jerry (Paul Sparks; Buried Child, Blackbird) in Central Park. In addition, it lets us meet Peter’s wife Ann (Katie Finneran; Noises Off, Promises, Promises) and witness the communication difficulties in their mostly happy marriage. The two plays were presented together in 2007 at Second Stage under the title Peter and Jerry. Albee later decreed that neither play could be presented without the other. Now, as part of Signature Theatre’s Albee series, they are back under the clumsy title Edward Albee’s At Home at the Zoo: Homelife & The Zoo Story. It is hard to imagine a production that makes a stronger case for the conjoined plays. All three actors are superb in their roles. The semiabstract set design by Andrew Lieberman (Fulfillment Center) concentrates our attention on the actors. Leonard turns reacting into an art form. Finneran’s Ann is a sympathetic presence. Sparks’s Jerry is mesmerizing, deftly building the sense of menace. Even if you know what’s coming, you will be shocked. My only reservations are about Homelife. On the one hand, it fills out the evening nicely. On the other hand, my feelings about it are quite mixed. I find the talk of hacked-off breasts, shrinking genitalia and sexual attack downright unpleasant and cannot imagine the play standing alone. However, as a warmup to the main event, it serves its purpose and the main event is not to be missed. Lila Neugebauer, who has a reputation for expertly directing plays with large ensembles (The Wolves, The Antipodes, Everybody, The Wayside Motor Inn), demonstrates that she can also superbly handle something more intimate. It’s a bracing evening. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes including intermission.

A Delicate Balance **

Let me confess that this play, despite its Pulitzer Prize, has never seemed to me on a par with Albee’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” or “Three Tall Women.” Based on Pam MacKinnon’s superb direction of the former play and the promising cast she assembled for this one, I hoped that this production might change my mind. It didn’t. I found the first half of the play listless and lacking any sense of ensemble. Things improved with the second scene of Act II and cohered even more for Act III. By then it was almost too late, because a solid foundation had not been built. The quality of the acting was below my expectations. Glenn Close, in the key role of Agnes, projected poorly, stumbled over her lines more than once and seemed generally distracted. Lindsay Duncan, as her drunk sister Claire, underplayed her role; Martha Plimpton, as much-married daughter Julia, overplayed hers. Of the four main characters, only John Lithgow, as Agnes’s husband Tobias, seemed to fully inhabit his role. Claire Higgins and Bob Balaban, as the terrified neighbors Edna and Harry, who move in, are very good. However, if it’s Harry and Edna that grab the most attention, something is wrong with the play’s delicate balance. The lavish living room designed by Santo Loquasto is imposing, but Ann Roth’s color-coordinated costumes were a bit much. I should mention that the conditions for enjoying the play were less than ideal. Legroom in the Golden Theatre’s mezzanine was minimal. The audience was annoying, laughing at inappropriate moments such as during Tobias’ impassioned monologue. Not a great evening for theater, alas. Running time: two hours, forty minutes, including two intermissions.

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.

The Lady from Dubuque **

(Please click on the title to see the entire review.)
When the new play Edward Albee was writing for Signature Theatre wasn't ready in time, they bravely -- or foolishly -- decided to replace it with this play, Albee's most notorious flop, which ran for 12 performances on Broadway in 1980. It is indeed a very strange play, uncomfortably blending black humor and pathos. Three suburban couples are playing 20 Questions in the home of Sam (Michael Hayden) and Jo (Laila Robins). Lucinda (Catherine Curtin), a friend of Jo's since college, and her husband Edgar (Thomas Jay Ryan) are treated with contempt by the others. The thrice-married Fred (C.J. Wilson) keeps telling prospective wife #4 Carol (Tricia Paoluccio) to shut up as she tries unsuccessfully to fit in. There is much bickering with occasional asides to the audience. Jo is terminally ill and in great pain, a circumstance that she uses as a license to treat everyone horridly. After the guests leave and the hosts go to bed, Elizabeth (Jane Alexander), an enigmatic older woman of regal bearing and her mysterious black companion Oscar (Peter Francis James) suddenly appear. When Sam discovers the pair in his living room the next morning, Elizabeth tells him that she is Jo's estranged mother. He refuses to believe her. The party guests from the previous night reappear and resume their bickering. Jo unquestioningly accepts the comfort offered by Elizabeth. Is she Jo's mother, the angel of death, or just the lady from Dubuque? Your guess is as good as mine. The play alternates hilarity with inscrutability and tragedy. Jo's piercing screams of pain will not leave my memory soon enough. It is not top-drawer Albee, but I was glad to have the opportunity to see it. I won't go so far as to recommend it though. The cast is fine, except that Hayden's performance seemed a bit overheated. David Esbjornson directed. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes including intermission.