The Inheritance

B+ (A- for Part I, B for Part II)

After its ecstatic London reviews and the large commitment of time and money required to see it, Matthew Lopez’s (The Whipping Man, The Legend of Georgia McBride) two-part drama about a circle of contemporary gay men in NYC and their debt to their predecessors arrives on Broadway with a lot to prove. The fact that Lopez has taken inspiration from Howard’s End in creating his characters and themes adds to its interest for E.M. Forster fans. However, Howard’s End is not the only ingredient in Lopez’s recipe. Add large dashes of Angels in America, The Normal Heart and Boys in the Band. Does this recipe work? Mostly yes. The decision to include Morgan (the M. in E.M. Forster) as a character in the play pays off brilliantly, especially since he is played by the excellent Paul Hilton (“A Very English Scandal,” “The Crown”). Hilton also plays Walter, the kindly older man and life partner of Henry Wilcox who befriends and inspires Eric. The other male leads, all carryovers from London, are also very good. As Eric Glass, the play’s core, Kyle Soller (The Government Inspector) radiates goodness. As budding playwright Toby Darling, Eric’s lover of seven years at the play’s opening, Andrew Burnap (This Day Forward) nails his charm, insecurity and self-loathing. Samuel H. Levine (Kill Floor) is superb both as Adam, the actor who captures but does not reciprocate Toby’s interest, and as Leo, the young hustler who reminds Toby of Adam. In one remarkable scene, he plays both simultaneously. As Henry Wilcox, the hard-nosed conservative billionaire who is drawn to Eric, the reliable John Benjamin Hickey (Six Degrees of Separation, Love! Valour! Compassion!) once again proves his worth. The supporting cast playing Eric’s circle of friends make the most of their moments. The only principal role recast for Broadway is that of Margaret, an old woman Eric meets late in Part II. Replacing Vanessa Redgrave with Lois Smith (Marjorie Prime, John) is going from strength to strength. However I did feel that her long, touching soliloquy (and indeed the inclusion of her character) came across as an audience-pleasing interpolation that was not really organic to the plot. What would a New York story be without talk of real estate? Here we have two topics, the legendary $575 three-bedroom rent-controlled apartment on West End Avenue which Eric’s grandmother lived in and which he is struggling to hang onto, as well as Henry's upstate country home which Walter made a refuge for AIDS patients and which he wanted Eric to have. Scenes that advance the story are interpolated by extended discussions, the topics of which include the downside of gay assimilation, Forster’s cowardice in not publishing Maurice during his lifetime, proper attribution of credit for accelerated introduction of AIDS drugs, and the challenges brought on by the 2016 election. Bob Crowley’s (The History Boys, Carousel) minimalist set— a large beige rectangle surrounding a smaller rectangle that raises and lowers and a back wall that opens occasionally to reveal specific settings — serves the production well, as do his costumes. Stephen Daldry’s (Machinal, Billy Elliot) direction is impeccable. How you respond to all this may well depend on your level of interest in the lifestyles of privileged gay men and in the works of Forster. I strongly recommend that you watch the film of Howard’s End before seeing the play so you will appreciate Lopez’s appropriations. If you have time, watch Maurice too. Some of the New York references are so specific that I am surprised London responded with such enthusiasm. You should be cautioned that there are graphic — very graphic — descriptions of gay sex. I wonder who the target audience is. A totally unscientific look at yesterday’s audience suggested that 75% of the orchestra and 95% of the mezzanine were gay men. I would normally suggest that you see both parts on the same day. However, the investment of time and money is so large that you might want to see Part I before deciding whether you want to invest in Part II. I thought Part I was the better half and could stand alone. The end of Part I is definitely the emotional high point of the play. Running times: Part I — three hours 20 minutes including an intermission and a pause; Part II — three hours 15 minutes including an intermission and a pause.

Six Degrees of Separation

B-

It isn’t often these days that you see a straight play with 18 actors on Broadway, so I salute the producers for bringing us this expensive revival. John Guare’s popular 1990 send-up of limousine liberals is based on a true story about a young man (the excellent Corey Hawkins) who passes himself off as Paul Poitier, son of actor Sidney, to worm his way into the homes of several wealthy East Side couples who should know better.The story is told by one such couple, art dealer Flan Kittredge (a surprisingly underwhelming John Benjamin Hickey) and his wife Ouisa (Allison Janney, competent but no match for my memories of Stockard Channing),. “Paul” is well dressed, charming and articulate, knows details about their children at Harvard, and  dangles the promise of casting them in the film Cats that his father is coming to New York to direct. They let him stay overnight. When Ouisa goes to wake him the next morning, he is in bed with a hustler (James Cusati-Moyer). During the long scene in which his hosts chase him around the apartment, the naked hustler has ample time to demonstrate that he has all the requisites for a successful career. Later the Kittredges learn that their friends Kitty (Lisa Emery) and Larkin (Michael Countryman) had their own encounter with “Paul” the previous night. We eventually meet their horrid children (Colby Minifie, Keenan Jolliff and Ned Riseley) who are portrayed as cartoon characters. Chris Perfetti fares better as Trent, the young man who has inadvertently set the events in motion. My biggest complaint about the play is the episode in which “Paul” cons two young would-be actors from Utah (Peter Mark Kendall and Sarah Mezzanotte) with tragic results. It is an abrupt shift from the satire of the rest of the play. I found director Trip Cullman’s approach to the play generally too broad. Mark Wendland’s set is very red and very tall. Clint Ramos’s costumes are fine. The play aspires to deeper meanings that it never reaches. Running time: one hour 40 minutes, no intermission.

Dada Woof Papa Hot ***

Yet another play about life among the white and wealthy gay residents of Manhattan? That was my first reaction upon learning about Peter Parnell’s unfortunately titled new play at Lincoln Center’s Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater. My lack of enthusiasm was misplaced. The play examines interesting questions of what has been gained and what has been lost with the arrival of gay marriage and gay parenthood. At the play’s center are two sets of gay fathers — Alan (John Benjamin Hickey) and Rob (Patrick Breen), the former a writer, the latter a psychotherapist, both in their forties — and a younger couple they meet at a gay parents’ group — staid financier Scott (Stephen Plunkett) and studly painter Jason (Alex Hurt). We also meet a straight couple —Alan’s best friend Michael (John Pankow), whose latest show on Broadway has just flopped, and his wife Serena (Kellie Overbey) — and Julia (Tammy Blanchard), an actress they both know. We follow them over the course of a year as they navigate pitfalls of parenthood and marriage, some common to all marriages and others unique to gay couples. The production is top-notch with an excellent cast, a wonderful set by John Lee Beatty that elegantly reconfigures to half a dozen locations, appropriate costumes by Jennifer von Mayrhauser and smooth direction by Scott Ellis. Parnell’s snappy dialogue is a treat. The play does sag slightly towards the end, but not enough to spoil it. Running time: one hour, 40 minutes; no intermission. NOTE: there is brief male frontal nudity, almost a requirement these days.