Hillary and Clinton

C

When Laurie Metcalf appeared in Lucas Hnath’s A Doll’s House, Part 2 two years ago, she won a Tony and the play became a commercial success. Therefore, producers probably thought it would be a great idea to produce this 2016 play by Hnath with Ms. Metcalf playing Hillary and, to beef up box office appeal, another Tony winner, John Lithgow (The Changing Room, Sweet Smell of Success), as Bill Clinton. The result is a mixed bag. The play, which first appeared during the 2016 primaries when Hillary looked like a sure thing, resonates differently today. Billed on the marquee as “primarily a comedy,” it does offer more than a few laughs over the goings-on in Hillary’s hotel room just before and after the 2008 New Hampshire primary. The play opens with a woman named Hillary philosophizing about the infinite number of universes where different incarnations of people obtain different results. This frame enables the playwright to mix fact, supposition and outright fiction to tell a tale that might have taken place in some universe. Spoilers ahead. When Barack (Peter Francis James; The Lady from Dubuque) tries to make a deal for her to quit the race and join him as vice-president on the ticket, her campaign manager Mark (Zak Orth; Major Barbara, subUrbia) advises her to refuse. Against Mark’s advice, Hillary calls her husband, who had been banished from the campaign, and asks him to come to New Hampshire. When he arrives, they bicker over all the accumulated grievances in their marriage and the rivalry of their competing ambitions. Bill’s presence in New Hampshire affects the outcome and upsets her secret deal with Barack, who then cautions them about the threat of damaging information emerging about their charitable fundraising. That’s about it in a nutshell. I guess celebrities lose the right to protect their privacy, but I couldn’t see any value in Hnath presenting a fantasy version of events. The actors make no effort to imitate their real-life models, which is probably a plus. Director Joe Mantello (Three Tall Women, The Humans) keeps things moving briskly. The set by Chloe Lamford (1984) is downright ugly — a gray cube that slides forward and lights up along the edges. The only props are an office chair and leftover food debris on the floor. The costumes by Rita Ryack (Casa Valentina) emphasize the ordinariness of daily life when the world is not watching. As one would expect, both Ms. Metcalf and Mr. Lithgow are a pleasure to watch. Nevertheless, there seemed to be little point to the enterprise. Running time: 85 minutes; no intermission.

John Lithgow: Stories By Heart

C+

I confess that I arrived at the American Airlines Theatre with a chip on my shoulder. I was annoyed that Roundabout had not only filled out its schedule with a warmed-over one-man show that had originated at Lincoln Center Theater ten years ago, but had chosen to place it in their largest theater. The cynic in me assumes that they were more interested in improving their bottom line than in satisfying their subscribers. That being said, at least the solo performer is John Lithgow (The Changing Room, The Sweet Smell of Success), one of our most versatile actors. It’s always a pleasure to see him, even when his material is less than compelling. The evening consists of his performance of two short stories, each preceded by reminiscences of his family, particularly his father. In the first story, “Haircut” by Ring Lardner, a small-town Midwestern barber regales a new customer with a tale that turns from comic to tragic. It was a story that Lithgow’s father read to him and his siblings at bedtime. Lithgow mimes all the appropriate gestures of giving a haircut, complete with sound effects. The nervous giggle he chose for the barber became annoying quickly. After intermission, he performs ”Uncle Fred Flits By,” a P.G. Wodehouse story with several characters that Lithgow entertainingly brings to life. It is a story that he credits for helping pull his ailing father out of deep depression when Lithgow read it to him. I enjoyed the family reminiscences he recounted before each story more than the stories themselves. I wish he had devoted the entire evening to an expanded sharing of his family memories. John Lee Beatty (Junk, Sweat, Disgraced) designed the set, a stately wood-paneled room with a cozy wing chair, a small table, a chair and a stool. Daniel Sullivan’s (The Little Foxes) direction tries to enliven the proceedings with modest success.

Running time: two hours 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.

The Columnist **

(Please click on the title to see the full review.)
It's wonderful to see John Lithgow back on Broadway in David Auburn's new biographical play about Joseph Alsop, now in previews in a Manhattan Theatre Club production. Lithgow's Alsop is arrogant, egotistical, irascible, untroubled by self-doubt, yet not without charm. Boyd Gaines ably plays his brother Stewart. Margaret Colin is less impressive in the somewhat underwritten role of Alsop's wife Susan Mary. Grace Gummer (who is the spitting image of sister Mamie) brings a welcome warmth to the role of Abigail, Alsop's stepdaughter. Stephen Kunken makes a fine David Halberstam. Brian J. Smith, despite being saddled with a thick Russian accent as Andrei, makes a good impression. Marc Bonan has a walk-on as Abigail's visiting friend Philip. The scenic design by John Lee Beatty is attractive, as are the costumes by Jess Goldstein. Daniel Sullivan's direction is unobtrusive. The weak link, alas, is playwright Auburn. The play has a certain connect-the-dots, made for television biopic quality about it. The highs aren't very high and the lows aren't very low. One of the main plot points turns out to be a red herring (or, in this case, a Red herring). Nevertheless, Lithgow's performance makes it essential viewing. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes including intermission.