The Perplexed

D+

Let me begin with quotes from two previous reviews:

“No one knows how to pander to a Manhattan Theatre Club audience better than Richard Greenberg. String together some witty one-liners, throw in a Jewish matron, add a few Yiddish words, mention Great Neck at least once and, voila, MTC awaits with open arms.” (Our Mother’s Brief Affair)

“There seems to be something about Manhattan Theatre Club’s Stage I at City Center that inspires scenic designers. Some of the finest set designs I have seen in New York have been at that theater. … Unfortunately, the “magic” effect of MTC’s Stage I on set designers does not seem to apply to playwrights. I have seen too many clunkers with great sets here, including this one.” (Long Lost)

Alas, both of these observations could apply just as well to Greenberg’s latest effort, now in previews at MTC. While the mention of Great Neck may be missing this time, we get not one but two Jewish matrons. Lest he ignore any segment of the typical MTC audience, he includes a gay character as well.

Once again, Santo Loquasto is the true star of the evening. I thought his set of a grand CPW apartment for The Assembled Parties could not be topped, but this set of a library off the ballroom of a Fifth Avenue apartment comes very close. If only what took place on the set were as impressive as the set itself!

The ten characters are all attending a wedding which, for some reason, starts with a reception and dancing and concludes with vows at midnight. The apartment belongs to the unseen Berland Stahl, a much-hated real estate bigwig, and grandfather of the bride Isabelle (Tess Frazer; Mary Page Marlowe). Her parents are Joseph (Frank Wood; Side Man, Network) and Evy (Margaret Colin; Jackie, Defiance), who is a NYC councilwoman. Her brother Micah (Zane Pais; Dead Poets Society) has just been involved in a scandal. Her uncle James (Patrick Breen; The New Englanders, Next Fall) is an author whose popularity has passed. We learn that Isabelle’s family have been disinherited by Berland after some messy lawsuits.

The groom is Caleb Resnick (JD Taylor; Apologia, The Last Match), a do-gooder, whose parents Ted (Gregg Edelman; City of Angels, Passion) and Natalie (Ilana Levine; You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown) had a falling-out with the Stahls 20 years ago. The officiant is Cyrus Bloom (Eric Williams Morris; King Kong, Coram Boy), a long-time family friend whose career path led from Wall Street to the rabbinate to teaching. Patricia (Anna Itty; India Pale Ale) is Berlind’s Guyanan home aide.

Different combinations of characters enter the library and talk and talk and talk. Occasionally there is a witty line to remember. What little plot there is hardly piqued my interest. While it was a pleasure to see a few actors I always enjoy (Breen, Colin and Wood), it was not pleasure enough to make the dreary proceedings more bearable. While I admire MTC director Lynne Meadows’s dogged support of Greenberg over the years even though he has never produced a hit for them, I wish she would try harder to find new talent. Much as I enjoy their excellent sets, I wish they would spend less on sets and more on play development. Running time: two hours 30 minutes including intermission.

         

The Great Society

C

If you saw Robert Schenkkan’s (The Kentucky Cycle) earlier play about the LBJ years, All the Way, I suspect that, for a multitude of reasons, you will be disappointed in the sequel, now at Lincoln Center Theater, which picks up the story at LBJ’s inauguration in 1965 and ends with Nixon’s in 1969. The play is overstuffed with episodes that cover the fight to pass a voting rights bill and other Great Society legislation, the ongoing struggle for civil rights complicated by fractures in the leadership and recalcitrance of Democratic politicians both in the South and North, the developing war in Vietnam and the protests it provoked, and examples of LBJ’s skilled arm-twisting techniques. No wonder there is little room for any depth of characterization. It’s a bit like a live Cliff Notes version of the era. I wished that the author had opted for less breadth and greater depth. With 22 actors, most of whom play multiple roles, it is occasionally hard to tell who’s who. Then there’s the matter of casting. While Brian Cox (That Championship Season) is a fine actor whose work I have often admired, the role of LBJ does not fit him like a glove; if you saw Bryan Cranston’s LBJ, you may have trouble adjusting to Cox’s. In addition, his attempt to find the right accent made the first few moments of the play almost unintelligible. Gordon Clapp (Glengarry Glen Ross) is believable as J.Edgar Hoover, but, as written by Schenkkan, the role is one-note. Barbara Garrick (The City of Conversation) has the thankless task of playing a colorless version of Lady Bird. David Garrison (Hollywood/Ukraine) is livelier both as Gov. Wallace and as Nixon. The ever-reliable Marc Kudisch (Girl from the North Country) is fine as Mayor Daley. Bryce Pinkham (A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder), always eminently watchable, is a convincing Robert Kennedy. Richard Thomas (The Little Foxes) is rather stolid as Humphrey, but that seems suitable for the role as written. The usually fine Frank Wood (Side Man) is unconvincing as Sen. Dirksen. As MLK Jr., Grantham Coleman (Buzzer) lacks sufficient fire. David Korins (Hamilton) has designed an austere circular set with bleacher-like seating at the rear and dugout-like seating on the sides. The selection of which actors sit in these seats during various scenes seemed rather arbitrary. Props appear as needed. Projections by Victoria Sagady (All the Way) help set the scene. Linda Cho’s (A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder) costumes seem appropriate to the period. Director Bill Rauch (The Clean House) keeps things moving, but to little cumulative effect. While the earlier play dug deeper into its characters, this one skims the surface. All in all, it was quite disappointing. Running time: two hours 40 minutes including intermission.

Network

C

After seeing ivo van Hove’s version of The Damned, I feared what he would do once he got his hands on this 1976 classic satire written by Paddy Chayevsky and directed by Sidney Lumet. The near-unanimous praise from the London critics somewhat allayed my misgivings, but what I saw tonight in this adaptation by Lee Hall (The Pitmen Painters) mostly confirmed them. Let me say immediately that Bryan Cranston (All the Way, "Breaking Bad") is superb in the role of Howard Beale, the TV anchorman at the center of the action. Seeing him perform is the only thing that made the evening at all worthwhile for me. Everything else about the production is so overblown, so frenetic, so gimmicky and so disjointed that it wore me down long before it ended. Upon arrival, we see that the center of the stage is occupied, for no apparent reason, by actors performing yoga. Jan Versweyveld (The Crucible, A View from the Bridge) has configured the stage as a TV studio with the control room on one side and, for reasons best known to van Hove (A View from the Bridge) , a restaurant with six tables for two on the other. Five of them are filled by theatergoers who eat dinner throughout the play. At one point the empty table is occupied by two actors, having public sex among the diners. The restaurant bar which is at the far edge of the restaurant is not visible to most of the audience, but it doesn’t matter because the only scene that takes place there is captured on the large video screens where you are likely to watch most of the play. (Don’t worry about expensive seats; it’s all on the giant screen.) Beale’s boss and longtime best friend Max Schumacher (Tony Goldwyn; Promises, Promises; The Dying Gaul) fires him because his ratings are down. Diana Christensen (Tatiana Maslany, Mary Page Marlowe, "Orphan Black"), a ruthless young producer without a moral compass, has an affair with Max. Despite the sex scene at the restaurant, there is little apparent chemistry between Goldwyn and Maslany. Frank Hackett (Joshua Boone; Actually), an ambitious executive brought in by the network’s new corporate owner, wants to subordinate the news division to the programming division. Edward Ruddy (Ron Canada (Zooman and the Sign) is the longtime network chief who is trying without much success to preserve the network’s independence. Frank Wood (Side Man, The Babylon Line), a fine actor, has little opportunity to make an impression in the bland role of Nelson Chaney. Nick Wyman (Desperate Measures) is appropriately ponderous as corporate head Arthur Jensen. Alyssa Bresnahan (Napoli, Brooklyn), as Max’s wife, does her best with soap-opera-worthy lines. The production relentlessly assaults the audience with flashing screens, loud music and much scurrying about. The brief forays into audience participation were the only things that seemed half-hearted. Somewhere midst all the cacophony there’s a cautionary tale about the media that still resonates even though the media themselves may have changed. At play’s end, the large screen shows a collage of all the presidents since Ford taking the oath of office. This gave the audience an excuse to applaud George H.M. Bush and Obama and boo Trump. Just another gimmick. Go to see Cranston if you are a fan. Otherwise, just rent the movie. Running time: two hours; no intermission.

The Red Letter Plays: In the Blood

In 1997 Suzan-Lori Parks made a casual remark to a friend that she wanted to write a riff on The Scarlet Letter and call it Fucking A. What she eventually produced was not one but two plays, both about a poor, illiterate woman named Hester who has been ill-treated by life. For the first time ever, they are being presented in tandem at Signature Theater.

C

In the first play written, In the Blood, Hester La Negrita (a strong Saycon Sengbloh; Eclipsed) is a woman with five bastard children by five different men, living with them underneath a bridge. As she struggles to get by, she is betrayed by all the people who should be helping her: The Welfare Lady (Jocelyn Bioh; An Octoroon), The Doctor (Frank Wood; Sideman, Can You Forgive Her?), her prostitute friend Amiga Gringa (Ana Reeder; The Big Knife), her first lover Chilli (Michael Braun; Everybody) and Reverend D. (Russell G. Jones; Father Comes Home from the Wars). Each gets a soliloquy to describe the nature of his or her betrayal of Hester. Unfortunately, the same actors must also play Hester’s children. Adults playing children is not a pretty sight. The letter A is important because it is as far as Hester got in her attempts to learn the alphabet. Eventually Hester snaps under the weight of her troubles and commits an act which is more shocking than surprising. The entire play seemed more than a bit schematic. The lack of subtlety in the writing is emphasized by the metaphorical set design by Louisa Thompson which features a curved slide of a back wall that no one can climb and a huge pipe that dumps trash from above. The costumes by Montana Levi Blanco are imaginative. Sarah Benson (An Octoroon) directed. Running time: two grim hours, no intermission.

Can You Forgive Her?

C-

Gina Gionfriddo has borrowed the title of an 1864 Trollope novel for her new play at the Vineyard Theatre. We are left to guess to whom “Her” refers. Is it Tanya (Ella Dershowitz, Alan’s daughter), the virtuous young single mother who is doggedly trying to win a place in the middle class after a bad marriage and who wants to avoid getting stuck with another PWP (partner without prospects)? Is it the flamboyant Miranda (Amber Tamblyn, Russ’s daughter) who is trying to work off the six-figure debt she ran up largely due to the cost of her liberal education by getting together twice a week with David (the wonderful Frank Wood), a sugar daddy she met online? Could it be Miranda’s unseen mother who enabled her irresponsible lifestyle? Is it the late mother of 40-year-old twice-divorced Graham (a solid Darren Pettie), who has left him a run-down beach cottage and boxes of her unpublished manuscripts that he feels both compelled to and reluctant to read? My choice for the identity of “Her” is the playwright herself and my answer is a qualified “yes.” After greatly enjoying her two Pulitzer-nominated plays “Becky Shaw” and “Rapture, Blister, Burn,”  I had high expectations. Unfortunately they were not met. There won’t be any Pulitzer nominations for this play. Nevertheless, despite the dubious premise that brings these four characters together, despite the awkward structure with a long opening scene between Graham and Tanya followed by an even longer scene between Graham and Miranda, the play has its redeeming features, including some wonderful dialogue. The scene following David’s arrival works particularly well. Unfortunately it is followed by a weak ending. Eshan Bay has a small role as Sateesh, the Indian man who is allegedly Miranda's date for the weekend. I would have guessed that the play was a piece that needed further work, but learned that it was produced in Boston a year ago. Maybe its problems are resistant to further improvement. In any case, I forgive the playwright for not being at the top of her form. Even her second-drawer material can be entertaining. Allen Moyer’s set presents an appropriately drab living room. Jessica Pabst’s costumes are excellent. I’m not sure what director Peter DuBois might could have done to improve the play’s coherence. Running time: one hour 35 minutes; no intermission. 

The Babylon Line ** C-

Making fun of the conformity of life in Levittown 50 years ago is a bit like shooting fish in a barrel. The target is too easy. Nevertheless, Richard Greenberg’s look at a creative writing class in the local adult education program, now in previews at Lincoln Center Theater, initially shows promise. The presence of such stalwarts of the New York stage as Randy Graff, Julie Halston and Frank Wood as three of the students is a big help. Josh Radnor (Disgraced) is no slouch either as their teacher, an unsuccessful writer who makes the weekly trip from Manhattan to earn a few dollars. Ms. Graff plays a stereotypical overbearing yenta, who would be objectionable if she weren’t so amusing. Ms. Halston, as one of her friends, is more open-minded. Maddie Corman portrays another friend, who has a rocky marriage. Frank Wood plays a veteran suffering from what we now call PTSD, who seeks release in his writing. Michael Oberholtzer plays a strange young man, possibly on the spectrum, who is working on a magnum opus. The final student is a mysterious woman who has lived in Levittown for many years, but is unknown to the others. This character, portrayed by Elizabeth Reaser, whom I have admired on other occasions, has for some reason been saddled with a Southern accent that comes and goes. (Perhaps there was a course on Tennessee Williams next door and she wandered into the wrong classroom.) The first act proceeds smoothly, but after intermission things go seriously off the rails. The second act is overlong and overwrought, burdened with lame gimmicks and false endings. Richard Hoover’s classroom set is excellent. I can't vouch for the accuracy of  Sarah J. Holden’s period costumes, but they seem appropriate. Director Terry Kinney gets tripped up in the second act problems. There are several entertaining moments along the way, but by the end most of the goodwill I felt after Act One had vanished. At least it’s an improvement over Greenberg's last play, “Our Mother’s Brief Affair,” which he briefly references. Running time: 2 hours 20 minutes including intermission

Signature Plays **

On paper it must have seemed like a good idea to present a triple bill of revived short works by playwrights who were in Signature Theatre’s Legacy program. For someone like me who has a limited tolerance for absurdist theater, the results were not gratifying. Yesterday’s avant garde often seems quaint or just annoying today. 

Edward Albee’s “The Sandbox” at least offered a bit of drollery and a chance to see three fine actors — Alison Fraser, Frank Wood and Phyllis Somerville as Mommy, Daddy and Grandma, respectively— and hunky Ryan-James Hatanaka as The Young Man. Melody Giron played the cello. 

Maria Irene Fornes’s “Drowning” is a strange tale of unrequited love in which the three characters — Pea (Mikeah Ernest Jennings), Roe (Sahr Ngaujah) and Stephen (Wood again) — are dressed like humans but inexplicably wear grotesque masks that make them look more like sea lions. 

The longest and most complex work is Adrienne Kennedy’s “Funnyhouse of a Negro,” a surrealistic look at racial identity and racism through the mind of Sarah (Crystal Dickinson), a mixed-race graduate student on the Upper West Side. Except for her landlady (Fraser) and her boyfriend (Nicholas Bruder), all the characters represent aspects of Sarah’s inner conflict. They include Queen Victoria Regina (April Matthis), the Duchess of Hapsburg (January LaVoy), Patrice Lumumba (Ngaujah), Jesus (Jennings), and Sarah’s mother (Pia Glenn.) The short scenes are punctuated by blackouts. Along about the tenth one, I began praying that the next would be the last. While I can appreciate the impact the play must have had when new, it just didn’t work for me now.

The production values are first-rate with sets by Mimi Lien, costumes by Kaye Voyce and lighting by Mark Barton. Lila Neugebauer directed. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes including two intermissions.

The Nether **

After a highly acclaimed London run that included a West End transfer, Jennifer Haley’s mashup of a police procedural and a sci-fi story is now having its New York premiere in an MCC production at the Lucille Lortel Theatre. The Nether is what the internet has become in the near future, an online medium where virtual reality is the main attraction. Since trees have disappeared in the real world, even the sight of an online forest can offer comfort. Schools have been largely supplanted by interactive educational games. As on the internet, porn is an important part of The Nether. As the play opens Detective Morris (Merritt Wever) is interviewing Sims (Frank Wood), a man she suspects of operating a virtual realm called The Hideaway, a Victorian estate where avatars of pedophiles can anonymously have their way with children. One issue raised is whether, since the “children” are actually avatars of adults, there is anything immoral about it. The detective is also questioning Doyle (Peter Friedman), a school teacher in his 60’s who frequents The Hideaway, offering him immunity if he will provide evidence to nail Sims. We also meet Woodnut (Ben Rosenfield), an undercover agent sent to gather evidence, and, most notably, Iris (Sophia Anne Caruso), a nine-year old at The Hideaway, much favored both by “guests” and Papa (Sims’s avatar). There are some surprising developments. It all sounds more interesting than it turns out to be. After reading the ecstatic London reviews, I feel that the problem is a deeply flawed production. The set, by Laura Jellinek, concentrates on the drab interrogation room and merely gives us hints of The Hideaway’s charms, whereas in London the scenic design went to great lengths to show its seductive beauty. Another weakness, at least for me, is Wever’s performance, which I found monotonously off-putting. To see Peter Friedman and Frank Wood is, as always, a pleasure. Rosenfield is quite effective and Caruso is amazing. Jessica Pabst's costumes are excellent. Anne Kauffman’s direction did not pull things together for me. A botched opportunity. Most memorable line: “Don’t tell me that you never fucked an elf!” Running time: 75 minutes, no intermission.