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 Pain of My Belligerence

B-

Halley Feiffer’s semi-autobiographical new play is perplexing for many reasons starting with its title and the tick-hugging woman in the artwork for its advertisements. Upon arriving at Playwrights Horizons, you are told that the programs will not be distributed until after the play. (In retrospect, this is a good idea because the play would lose some impact if you knew too much in advance.) Upon entering the theater, you are greeted by ominous insect buzzing. The long opening scene depicts the memorable first date between Cat (Feiffer), a budding late-20’s journalist and Guy (Hamish Linklater; The Busy World Is Hushed, Seminar), the arrogant, privileged, charming, sexy man who designed the restaurant where they are dining on Election Day 2012. Guy is the business partner and husband of Yuki and father of a young daugther, Anzu. The scene is outrageously funny with lots of physical humor and shaggy-dog stories in which the interruptions have interruptions. And so begins their toxic relationship. We next see them exactly four years later when the unwell Cat is lying in bed watching the 2016 election returns. We learn that Guy now has a second daughter, Olive, and that all is not going smoothly for the adulterous couple. Cat’s illness does not prevent them from indulging in some athletic sex. The final scene is set on Election Day 2020. I will say no more about it; don’t read the spoilers below if you want to be surprised. The two leads are terrific. As an actress, Feiffer (The Front Page, The House of Blue Leaves) is absolutely fearless. As a playwright (I'm Gonna Pray for You So Hard, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Gynecological Oncology Unit at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center of New York City), she is adept at creating characters with oversized emotions. It is a treat to see Linklater cast in a role so different from his usual stage persona. The production is greatly enhanced by Mark Wendland’s (Significant Other, Next to Normal)  elegantly simple set made primarily of wood slats. Paloma Young’s (Bandstand, Lobby Hero) costumes are apt. Director Trip Cullman (Lobby Hero, The Mother) allows the actors to dig deeply into their roles. Spoilers ahead. In the final scene, we meet Yuki  (a fine Vanessa Kai; KPOP) and Olive (Keira Belle Young) and learn that all has not been quite as it seemed. The attempt to tie the nature of Cat and Guy’s relationship to a malign patriarchy through the Election Day settings did not work for me. Cat’s physical decline, which touches on Feiffer’s own experience, provides a visible correlate of the relationship itself. It doesn’t add up to anything neat and simple, but it offers many absorbing moments along the way. While I remain perplexed, I was also entertained and glad to have had the chance to see two fine actors doing excellent work in an unconventional piece. Running time: 85 minutes; no intermission.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Gynecologic Oncology Unit at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center of New York City **

If you are not offended by the idea of a black comedy with cancer jokes, raunchy language and sexual situations set in a hospital room with two cancer patients lying silently in their beds, you are in for some very funny moments during this MCC production at the Lucille Lortel Theatre. You may feel guilty for laughing at times, but laugh you will. Good taste is not on the agenda. Karla (Beth Behrs of “2 Broke Girls” in a promising debut), a struggling comedienne with a potty mouth, tries out new comedy bits on her sleeping mother Marcie (the ever-watchable Lisa Emery). Don (a fine Eric Lochtefeld), a rumpled middle-aged guy dealing with a messy divorce and an unruly son, is visiting his mother Geena (Jacqueline Sydney) who lies in bed with a shaved head and has at most a handful of lines. Don and Karla get off on the wrong foot, but gradually share confidences and grow closer. There are several effective set pieces, either comedic or dramatic, with dry stretches in between. Too often getting an easy laugh trumps plausibility. Even a hilarious sex scene milks laughs for too long. The ending is weak. Nevertheless, the dialogue is snappy, the acting is fine and the attempt by playwright Halley Feiffer (I’m Gonna Pray for You So Hard) to try something different is admirable. The hospital room set design by Lauren Helpern looks extremely authentic and the costumes by Kaye Voyce help define the characters. Trip Cullman’s direction is assured. Those not turned off by the play’s premise are likely to enjoy themselves for most of the time. Running time: 90 minutes.

I'm Gonna Pray for You So Hard **

The best I can say for Halley Feiffer’s overwrought drama at Atlantic Stage 2 is that it offers a chance for Reed Birney to once again demonstrate that he is one of New York’s finest actors. As David, an embittered alcoholic playwright, he spends the first hour venting spleen against everyone involved in New York theater. His audience is his daughter Ella (Betty Gilpin), an aspiring actress waiting for the reviews of her performance as Masha in “The Seagull.” During the long first scene, Gilpin is called upon mainly to shriek, screech, scream, squeal and shout, to the point that I thought her character was developmentally challenged. David’s casual cruelty to Ella escalates as the evening progresses, fueled by wine, weed and coke, and finally reaches a breaking point. In the second scene, five years later, we learn that Ella has truly become her father’s daughter. Birney’s performance in this scene is absolutely riveting and Gilpin finally gets a chance to do more than make appreciative noises. Mark Wendland’s version of the kitchen of an Upper West Side apartment is appropriately claustrophobic. Jessica Pabst’s costumes are fine, especially her blood-red dress for Ella in the second scene. Trip Cullman directed. Although I really disliked the material, I was happy for the opportunity to see Birney in action. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Women or Nothing **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
Whether or not you will enjoy Ethan Coen's new comedy for the Atlantic Theater Company depends largely on how much disbelief you are willing to suspend for some snappy dialogue and a few laughs. For me, accepting the premise of a pair of affluent sophisticated lesbians hatching a lame plot to trick a man into supplying the sperm for the child they want was too much of a stretch. Their plan makes little sense and is divorced from anything remotely resembling reality. On the plus side, the four actors (Halley Feiffer, Susan Pourfar, Robert Beitzel and Deborah Rush) play well together and two of the four scenes work quite well. Unfortunately, the final scene is a letdown. David Cromer's direction gets the most out of the script. Michele Spadaro's lavish set design of a Manhattan apartment incorporates a strange mixture of styles. Sarah Laux's costumes are apt. The play shows progress over Coen's recent one-act efforts, but still lacks the off-kilter inventiveness of a Coen screenplay. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes including intermission. NOTE: Avoid Row B at Atlantic's Linda Gross Theater -- there is no rake between Rows A and B and the seats are not staggered.

Medieval Play (Act One) [zero stars]

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It had to happen sooner or later -- encountering a play so bad that returning after intermission was unthinkable. Alas, today was the day and this was the play. It is hard to imagine that Kenneth Lonergan, author of "This Is Our Youth," "Lobby Hero" and the screenplay for "You Can Count on Me," is responsible for this pointless mess, now in previews at Signature Theatre.  His play "The Starry Messenger" last year was no great shakes, but it was a masterpiece by comparison. This one is allegedly a comedy about the misadventures of two 14th-century Breton knights, one idealistic (Josh Hamilton), the other cynical and not too bright (Tate Donovan). The melange of anachronisms, bodily function jokes, four-letter words and comic book violence might make a mildly amusing five-minute sketch on Saturday Night Live, but sitting through an hour and twenty minutes of it was painful. Staying for the remaining hour and twenty minutes would qualify as cruel and unusual punishment. Most depressing of all, judging from the laughter, there was a substantial minority of the audience who loved every minute of it. Also in the cast are Anthony Arkin, Heather Burns, Halley Feiffer, Kevin Geer, John Pankow and C.J. Wilson.The storybook sets by Walt Spangler and costumes by Michael Krass were far more amusing that any lines in the play. The swordfights were well-staged by J. David Brimmer. Lonergan directed his own play, so he has no one else to blame. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes including intermission.