Blue Ridge

B-

Atlantic Theater Company is presenting the world premiere of Abby Rosebrock’s (Dido of Idaho) drama set in a church-sponsored halfway house in the mountains of western North Carolina. I don’t know much about halfway houses, but I found it surprising that the residents were there for such varied problems as opioid addiction, alcoholism, mental illness and anger management. The main focus is on the self-destructive Alison (Marin Ireland; Summer and Smoke, The Big Knife), a devoted high school English teacher at the local high school who, after a long affair with her married principal, attacked his car with an axe and was sentenced to a six-month stay there. She immediately befriends Cherie (Kristolyn Lloyd; Paradise Blue, Dear Evan Hansen), another high school teacher, who is a recovering alcoholic voluntarily there. Cherie is black, but her race does not seem to be a significant issue for anyone. She likes it at the group home and thinks she might switch to a career in social work or public health. Wade (Kyle Beltran; The Fortress of Solitude, Gloria) became addicted to prescribed drugs after a work accident. and blames some of his problems on his mixed race. Cole (Peter Mark Kendall; Six Degrees of Separation, The Harvest) has just been discharged from a mental institution; his reasons for being institutionalized never become sufficiently clear. The founders and staff of the home are Hern (Chris Stack; Ugly Lies the Bone), a white pastor, and Grace (Nicole Lewis; Hair, Sense and Sensibility), his black colleague. The residents not only must hold day jobs in the community but must also undertake service projects as part of their treatment. We see the six interact, mainly at a series of bible study meetings. The lyrics of Carrie Underwood songs are cited. Wade gets to sing and play the guitar. The first act builds slowly to a surprising climax that I did not see coming. The second act features a gripping emotional meltdown, but then spins its wheels and ends on an unsatisfying note. Adam Rigg’s (Fabulation, The House That Will Not Stand) set presents the home’s nondescript living room with a hint of evergreen trees peeking through the vertical blinds. The set is surrounded by a frame that lights up brightly between scenes. Sarah Laux’s (The Band’s Visit, The Humans) costumes suit the characters well. Director Taibi Magar (The Great Leap) shows an affinity for the material. For me the opportunity to see Marin Ireland emote was reason enough to attend. The rest of the fine cast more than holds its own onstage with her. At its best moments, the play is quite gripping. It’s just good enough that one wishes it were even better. Running time: two hours including intermission.

The Amateurs

C

With the success of Marjorie Prime, expectations for playwright Jordan Harrison’s new play at the Vineyard Theatre were high. After his Pulitzer-nominated play set in the near future, Harrison has shifted his focus to 14th-century Europe during The Black Death. We follow a traveling theatrical group working on their new production of the mystery play “Noah’s Flood,” which they hope will win the approval of the local duke and, thereby, a safe refuge from the plague. We meet Larking (Thomas Jay Ryan; The Crucible. 10 out of 12), the pompous leader of the troupe who, of course, plays God. Roma (Jennifer Kim; Gloria), perhaps the most unpleasant person in the troupe, is pregnant. Hollis (Quincy Tyler Bernstine; Grand Concourse, Ruined), who is mourning the recent death of her brother, occasionally gets so wrapped up in speculating about the motivation for her lines that she goes blank onstage. The quiet Brom (Kyle Bertran; Head of Passes, Fortress of Solitude) is riddled with guilt over a secret relationship. Gregory (Michael Cyril Creighton; Stage Kiss), the troupe’s all-around handyman, is deemed by Larking too simple and too unattractive to appear onstage. A mysterious stranger The Physic (Greg Keller; Animal, Belleville) joins the troupe. About midway through the play, the author breaks the fourth wall: Creighton reappears as a character representing the playwright to discuss the origins of the play in his own experience of a more recent plague, to speculate about the emergence of the concept of the individual and to question the proper role of art in society. After this extended interlude, the play proper resumes. Maybe I am old-fashioned, but I feel the playwright should show us in the play what his intent is, rather than interrupt the play to tell us about it. The uniformly fine cast deserves better than this. David Zinn’s (Fun Home, The Humans) scenic design with its theater on wheels is a delight. Jessica Pabst’s (Can You Forgive Her?, Marjorie Prime) period costumes are excellent. Oliver Butler’s (The Light Years, The Open House) direction is unfussy. Even though the playwright’s attempt to do something different misfires, it fails interestingly. I look forward to seeing what he will try next. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Head of Passes **

A program note says that playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney’s current play, now at the Public Theater, was inspired by the Book of Job. While the faith of matriarch Shelah (Phylicia Rashad) is also sorely tested by multiple tragedies, there is an important difference between her and Job. Despite her outward piety, we learn in the play’s final moments that she is far from guiltless. The setting is a former b&b at the mouth of the Mississippi where Shelah has lived alone since the death of her beloved husband. She has two sons, the successful but hot-tempered Aubrey (Francois Battiste) and the likable but unreliable Spencer (J. Bernard Calloway), who both live nearby. They have arranged a surprise party for her birthday and invited her vivacious old friend Mae (Arnetia Walker) and Dr. Anderson (Robert Joy), the only person who knows that Shelah is dying. Breaker (John Earl Jelks), a crusty old family friend, snd his son Crier (Kyle Beltran) have been hired to serve at the party. We also meet the mercurial Cookie (Alana Arenas), the illegitimate daughter that Shelah’s husband brought home as an infant whom Shelah has raised as her own, but who is now a drug addict who avoids the family home. The raging storm and leaky roof portend ill. The first act is a sometimes uneven mix of comedy and drama that ends with a bang.  Most of the second act is an extended monologue for Shelah, who tries unsuccessfully to find the divine purpose in her misfortunes. Rashad is superb but her full-throttle performance was not enough to distract me from the play’s weaknesses. The entire cast is strong. I was disappointed that Beltran, so fine in McCraney’s Choir Boy as well as in Fortress of Solitude, never gets to perform the song he was supposed to sing at the party. The set by G.W. Mercier certainly commands our attention. Toni-Leslie James's costumes are appropriate. Tina Landau directs with a feeling for the material. I give McCraney credit for trying something different with each play, but I found the current play overwrought, muddled and disjointed, less satisfying than either his Choir Boy or Wig Out. The audience was very enthusiastic. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.

Gloria ****

No one can accuse Obie winner Branden Jacobs-Jenkins (Appropriate, An Octoroon) of repeating himself. Each of his three plays that I have seen creates its own world completely unlike that of the other two. His latest play, now at Vineyard Theatre, draws upon his experience working at the New Yorker for a few years. For the first 45 minutes, the play seems to be a witty workplace satire about assistants at a prestigious magazine. Then the mood abruptly shifts, to put it mildly. To say more would spoil your experience. The remainder of the play depicts the effects of a life-changing event on some of the people who experienced it and raises this question: when something newsworthy happens, who “owns” the story? The playwright also paints an unflattering picture of today's media scene in which stories become mere fodder for the ravenous film/television/social media/publishing beast. In Act One we meet three editorial assistants — Dean (Ryan Spahn), Ani (Catherine Combs) and Kendra (Jennifer Kim); Miles (Kyle Beltran, who made such a strong impression in Fortress of Solitude), a college intern; Lorin (Michael Crane), a somewhat older fact checker; and the title character (Jeanine Serralles, recently in Verite), a socially awkward longtime employee from another department. Each character is vividly sketched and the dialogue rings true. The first act is literally a tough act to follow. In the second act, all the actors except Crane play one or more new characters. The excellent cast is adept at changing roles. One of the play’s strengths is that, at any given moment, I had no idea where it was heading. The scenic design by Takeshi Kata captures the sterility of the modern cubicled office. The costumes by Ilona Somogyi are unobtrusively apt. Evan Cabnet’s direction is rock solid. In case there was any doubt, Jacobs-Jenkins demonstrates that he belongs in the first rank of contemporary American iplaywrights. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.

The Fortress of Solitude ***

You have to give a lot of credit to director Daniel Aukin for conceiving the idea of turning Jonathan Lethem’s 528-page novel into a musical. Itamar Moses’s book manages to retain much of the book’s spirit and keeps the narrative reasonably clear. For me, the outstanding feature of this production, now in previews at the Public Theater, is Michael Friedman’s wonderful score. Ranging from R&B through gospel to hip-hop, Friedman’s music and lyrics brilliantly capture the musical background underpinning the lives of two Brooklyn boys, one white, the other black, starting in the 1970’s, before Gowanus became Boerum Hill. Dylan Ebdus (Adam Chanler-Berat) is the son of Abraham (Ken Barnett), an emotionally distant artist, and Rachel (Kristen Sieh), an activist who is proud that her son is one of only three white students in his school, but soon abandons him. Adam befriends Mingus (Kyle Beltran), a black neighbor who is also motherless and also named for a musician. Mingus protects Dylan from the neighborhood bully Robert Woolfolk (Brian Tyree Henry). The close friendship between Mingus and Dylan includes a bit of teenage sexual experimentation. Mingus’s father Barrett Rude Jr. (Kevin Mambo) is a burned-out coke addict, who once had a musical career that seemed promising but never caught fire. When Mingus’s preacher grandfather Barrett Rude Sr. (Andre de Shields) is released from jail and moves in with his kin, tragedy ensues. For anyone living in New York during the mid-seventies, the show recreates much of the societal context of racial strife, drugs, graffiti, blackouts, the so-called justice system, and the first stages of gentrification. The music is terrific, especially when sung by Barrett Rude Jr.’s singing group --the Subtle Distinctions -- and by de Shields. Eugene Lee’s set is appropriately drab and Jessica Pabst’s costumes suit the characters well. In both the novel and the musical, the introduction of a ring with magical properties seemed both unnecessary and a distraction. I am not sure how clear the story will be for those who have not read the book. Nevertheless, the wonderful score, the excellent performances and the show’s bold ambition won me over. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes.

Choir Boy **

I wish I had not read the glowing reviews of Tarell Alvin McCraney's drama with music at Manhattan Theatre Club's Stage II, because they set me up for disappointment. The a cappella singing of the actors portraying members of the gospel choir and the headmaster of an elite black prep school is gorgeous, but the drama into which the music is blended could use deeper character development and fewer subplots. Jeremy Pope is strong as the effeminate student choir leader who is as much bully as victim. Nicholas L. Ashe, Kyle Beltran, Grantham Coleman and John Stewart are all fine as the other students. Charles E. Wallace is admirable as the headmaster and Austin Pendleton is believable as the retired historian brought in to hone the boys' intellect (a la "History Boys"). The plot is often contrived and predictable. Jason Michael Webb made the fine vocal arrangements. David Zinn's set and costumes are excellent and Trip Cullman's direction is smooth. I might have enjoyed it more had I been expecting less. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.