Greater Clements

B-

I suspect that the Idaho Chamber of Commerce wishes that native son Samuel D. Hunter would find a different setting for his next play. If one judged Idaho solely by his plays, which include The Whale, Pocatello, The Few and Lewiston/Clarkston, one could easily conclude that it is impossible to have a happy life anywhere in that state. Take Maggie (the magnificent Judith Ivey; Hurlyburly, Park the Car in Harvard Yard, The Heiress), the heroine of Hunter’s latest play, now in previews at Lincoln Center Theater. She has been disappointed by all the significant men in her life: her father, who broke up her romance with a young Japanese-American man; her husband, Caleb, who left her for a man; and her son Joe (a remarkable Edmund Donovan; Lewiston/Clarkston), who suffers from mental illness. Maggie runs the town’s mine museum and its popular tours of the abandoned mine where 81 men including her father perished in a fire several years ago. Joe, now 27 and recently back from six years in Alaska, helps her by serving as a tour guide. Hordes of wealthy Californians have built expensive weekend homes in the area and then tried to use their influence to bend local ways more to their liking. To prevent their gaining power, the townies have voted to unincorporate. One of the effects is that the museum must close and the tours must end. Maggie’s overbearing longtime friend Olivia (Nina Hellman; Pericles, 10 out of 12) is incensed over the seemingly spiteful vote and can’t stop talking about it. The town’s sole policeman, Wayne (Andrew Garman; Admissions, The Christians), soon to be the newly elected sheriff, drops by for pie. Eventually we learn why Joe had to leave town six years before, why he returned, and why Wayne keeps a close eye on him. Maggie’s former beau Billy (Ken Narasaki), now a widower, and his 14-year-old granddaughter Kel (Haley Sakamoto; Big Green Theater), who lives with him because her father is an abusive alcoholic, stop by for a visit, allegedly on the way to drop Kel off at a mock state legislature session. Billy really has come to see Maggie because he has hopes of rekindling their romance. Only someone who has never seen a Hunter play would think that there is any way in the world that this will end happily, so the only real suspense is in how their dreams will be thwarted. The first two acts lay out the groundwork skillfully. Unfortunately, the third act goes off the rails and turns into melodrama. A powerful flashback seems manipulative because of where it is inserted. In addition, the final scene brings in a new character, Mona (Kate MacCluggage; The Farnsworth Invention) whose role adds nothing to the mix and leads to a weak ending. Perhaps in the week remaining before opening night, they will whip the third act into shape. I hope so. My disappointment was all the more acute because I liked the first two acts so well. One other negative aspect is the set by Dane Laffrey (The Harvest, Once on This Island). In order to gain the suggestion of a mine elevator, there are three thick pillars that periodically block the view of a good portion of the audience. The platform supported by the pillars rises and lowers to reveal different levels of the house. It seemed a very cumbersome solution to a problem that could have been solved much more simply. Also a dozen or so audience members are seated onstage for no particular reason. Despite its shortcomings, the play is worth seeing just for the great performances by Judith Ivey and Edmund Donovan. Just accept the fact that it is a downer. Davis McCallum’s (The Whale, Pocatello, The Few and Lewiston/Clarkston) direction is assured most of the time, although the play could use some trimming. Running time: two hours 50 minutes including two short intermissions.

Out of the Mouths of Babes **

Set design by Neil Patel

Israel Horovitz’s latest play was commissioned by the artistic director of the Cherry Lane Theatre, Angelina Fiordellisi, as a vehicle for two theatrical treasures, Estelle Parsons and Judith Ivey. It’s a wildly uneven comedy about four women who gather in the Parisian apartment of a Sorbonne professor, ex-husband to three of them and former lover to the fourth, who has just died at 100. Evelyn (Parsons), 88, was his second wife who married him after the first wife’s defenestration. Evvie (Ivey), 68, broke up that marriage, but never wed him. Both have been invited to attend the funeral with complimentary plane tickets by his widow. Janice (Fiordellisi), 58, the depressive third wife, read about his death and shows up uninvited; after her many suicide attempts, it was assumed that she was no longer “available.” His widow, the luscious Marie-Belle, 38, from Senegal (Francesca Choy-Kee), claims to still be in communication with him, which we see mainly through the uncontrollable laughter his paranormal tickling attacks provoke. The four women bitch and reminisce, with most of the bon mots going to troupers Parsons and Ivey. There’s a bit of the supernatural at the end. It’s intermittently entertaining in a lazy way. As light summer entertainment, that may be enough for most. The spectacular art-laden Parisian loft designed by Neil Patel will definitely evoke real estate envy. (It turns out that many of the artworks are by celebrities such as Rosie O’Donnell, Joel Grey and Billy Dee Williams. A guide is thoughtfully inserted in the program.) The costumes by Joseph G. Aulisi suit the characters admirably. Barnet Kellman’s direction skillfully maximizes the play’s assets. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes including intermission.

Superficially, Israel Horowitz has a lot in common with Alan Ayckbourn. Both were born in 1939, both have written over 70 plays, both developed most of their work for a provincial theater they headed and both have had substantial success. Judging from the limited number of their plays I have seen, I would have to say that Ayckbourn is by far the superior craftsman. Horowitz divides his time between the US and Paris and is much beloved by the French. According to the program, he is the most produced American playwright in French theatrical history. Go figure. 

A request: I wish that all playwrights would declare a moratorium on cunnilingus jokes; they have become a tiresome cliche. 

The Heiress **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
If you never saw the film or the revival with Cherry Jones, you might enjoy the current Broadway production of Ruth and August Goetz's adaptation of Henry James's Washington Square. But if you did see either one, you may well be disappointed in this uneven production starring Jessica Chastain, David Strathairn and Dan Stevens, directed by Moises Kaufman. Chastain's take on Catherine Sloper as pathologically shy, yet frisky, in the early scenes is an interesting but questionable choice. Her performance strengthened in the second half. Strathairn, whom I have greatly admired in the past, seemed distracted and bored here. Stevens cut a fine figure and effectively conveyed the ambiguity of his character. The most commanding presence onstage was Judith Ivey as the well-meaning meddling aunt. I could not grasp what Kaufman was aiming for; too often he appeared to be going for easy laughs. There was too much declaiming and too little communicating. The production just didn't seem to cohere. Derek McLane's imposing set and Albert Wolsky's sumptuous costumes were excellent. Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes including intermission.