The Nap

D

Since I thoroughly enjoyed Richard Bean’s hilarious One Man, Two Guvnors, I was looking forward to this play at Manhattan Theatre Club even though I was unfamiliar with and uninterested in its focus — snooker, a variety of billiards popular in England. Allegedly a comedy-thriller, it comes up short on both laughs and thrills. Dylan Spokes (Ben Schnetzer; Sticks and Bones) is a working-class bloke from Sheffield who has a chance to win the World Championship tournament which is conveniently being held in his home town. Bobby Spokes (John Ellison Conlee; Murder Ballad, The Madrid) is his father, an ex-con drug dealer who has trouble with math and movie titles. Dylan is alienated from his mother Stella (Johanna Day; Sweat, Proof), a grifter who is currently selling fake handicap parking permits. The shady Waxy Bush (Alexandra Billings), Dylan’s sponsor and Stella’s lover before her gender change, rivals Mrs. Malaprop with her fractured vocabulary.  Tony DanLino (Max Gordon Moore; Saint Joan, Describe the Night) is Dylan’s flashy manager with a taste for pastel suits. Danny Killeen (Thomas Jay Ryan; The Crucible, 10 out of 12) is Stella’s smelly current boyfriend. Shortly before the tournament, Dylan is visited by Mohammad Butt (Bhavesh Patel; Present Laughter, Indian Ink), an official with the snooker authority, and Eleanor Lavery (Heather Lind; Incognito, Of Good Stock), an attractive police officer, who warn him about suspicious betting activity. Subsequently, Dylan must face a painful choice between throwing a game or jeopardizing the life of a loved one. This setup takes up the very long first act, which ends on a jarring note. The second and livelier act has many reveals and not one but two scenes of snooker with Dylan against Abdul Fattah and Baghawi Quereshi (both played by real-life champion Ahmed Aly Elsayed). An overhead view of the snooker play is projected on a large screen. The author has allegedly written two endings, depending on who wins. On the night I attended, Dylan won. The characters are little more than one-note tics and their interactions just aren’t that funny. The romantic subplot is half-hearted. At no point does the play even remotely approach the inspired slapstick farce of Bean’s earlier play. The direction by Daniel Sullivan (The Little Foxes, Good People) seemed a bit listless. David Rockwell’s (She Loves Me, Lobby Hero) set is a transforming wonder and Kaye Voyce’s (After the Blast, Mary Page Marlowe) costumes go a long way to defining the characters. Once again MTC has lavished first-rate production values on second-rate material. I was very disappointed. Running time: two hours 15 minutes including intermission.

The (curious case of the) Watson Intelligence **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
No one can accuse playwright Madeleine George of lack of ambition for her new work at Playwrights Horizons. The action, set in 1876, 1889, 1931 and 2011 with three actors playing multiple roles, alternates time periods and characters in rapid succession. We are presented with four Watsons -- Alexander Graham Bell's assistant; Shelock Holmes's sidekick; Jerry Watson, a present-day computer repairman, and a supercomputer based on IBM's, reprogrammed to be empathetic. All are played by the delightful John Ellison Conlee. The talented Amanda Quaid plays Eliza, the supercomputer's creator; Mrs. Merrick, a troubled Victorian wife who consults Holmes's Watson; and an unnamed BBC interviewer. David Costabile, master of high dudgeon, appears as Merrick, a Tea Party-style politician and ex-husband of Eliza; a mysterious Victorian inventor also named Merrick, and Alexander Graham Bell. Present-day Merrick inadvertently brings ex-wife Eliza and Jerry together with surprising results. Some of the ideas touched upon are dependency and the fear thereof, usefulness, and the downside of finding a soulmate. The alternation of times, locations and characters is greatly assisted by  Louisa Thompson's amazingly flexible set and Anita Yavich's excellent costumes. Playwright George successfully keeps her juggling act going through the first act and into the second, before she drops the ball with a thud. The play whimpers to an end, which is all the more disappointing since it started with such promise. Director Leigh Silverman keeps things moving along smoothly until the play trips over its own cleverness. In what my sound like a left-handed compliment, let me say that even the plays that fall short at Playwrights Horizons fail in interesting ways. Running time: two hours, 20 minutes including intermission.

Murder Ballad **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
This through-sung rock opera by Julia Jordan and Juliana Nash, which received positive reviews at Manhattan Theater Club Stage II last year, has reopened at the Union Square Theater, which has been reconfigured for the occasion. Traditional seats in a U surround a central area set up as a bar, complete with pool table and cabaret seating for those who want to be in on the action. The four characters are lovely Sara (Cassie Levy), who, after a tempestuous affair with hot bartender Tom (Will Swenson), settles for marriage to Michael (John Ellison Conlee), an older, less photogenic professor of poetry. (Too bad the professor wasn't available to assist with the lame lyrics.) When Sara gets the seven year itch and resumes her affair with Tom, there's trouble, as sexy narrator (Rebecca Naomi Jones) tells us. I wish I could join the chorus of praise for the show, but it did not engage me at any level. The tabloid-worthy tale, the deafening music, the pointless running to and fro and standing on chairs were turnoffs for me. I did not particularly care who would be murdered or who did it. The performances are energetic and the voices are fine when they can be heard over the musicians. The large set, designed by Mark Wendland, diffuses the action too much. Jessica Pabst's costumes are apt. Ben Stanton's garish lighting in neon colors is bilious. Trip Cullman's direction seems to be based on the idea that if you keep the actors running around enough, no one will notice the thinness of the material. I might have liked it better had I not seen the other far better environmental pop opera ("Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812") first, but I doubt it. Fairness compels me to state that most of the audience seemed to be enjoying it. Running time:  80 minutes without intermission.

The Madrid *

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
Alas, the curse that the theater gods apparently placed on Manhattan Theatre Club's Stage I at City Center has not yet lifted. On paper "The Madrid" looked like a sure thing. With a cast led by Edie Falco and including Frances Sternhagen and Christopher Evan Welch; a playwright, Liz Flahive, with a previous MTC success and a strong track record writing for Falco on "Nurse Jackie;" and a first-rate director, Leigh Silverman, who helmed Flahive's previous MTC play, what could possibly go wrong? Plenty, as  it turns out. Falco plays Martha, a teacher in a Chicago suburb who suddenly walks out on her family and job and starts a new life in a seedy downtown apartment named The Madrid. Her 20-year old daughter Sarah (Phoebe Strole) tries to find a connection with her. Her long-suffering husband John (John Ellison Conlee) copes by selling everything that reminds him of her. Their meddlesome, needy neighbor Becca (Heidi Schreck) and her slightly creepy husband Danny (Welch) try to help in counterproductive ways. Martha's mother Rose (the always fine Sternhagen) tries desperate measures to bring her daughter home. Becca and Danny's gangly 16-year-old son Dylan (Seth Clayton) provides a brief moment of comic relief. The trouble is that the proceedings offer so little to involve the viewer that, by the end of two long listless acts, I no longer cared why Martha left or whether she would return. David Zinn's multipurpose set is efficiently versatile and Emily Rebholz's costumes are fine. Silverman does her best with the hand she has been dealt. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes including intermission.