Summer, 1976

B-

When Manhattan Theatre Club announced a new play by David Auburn starring Laura Linney (The Little Foxes, Time Stands Still) and Jessica Hecht (The Assembled Parties, The Price), I felt a mix of emotions – hope that the playwright might once again achieve the heights of his 2000 Tony winner, Proof; delight at the thought of seeing one of my favorite actresses again; and apprehension at the prospect of seeing the other actress, who is a long way from a favorite of mine. My hope that Auburn would have another hit comparable to Proof was not fulfilled. The play consists mainly of a series of long monologues as two women of a certain age recall the summer they met in Columbus, Ohio long ago. Linney plays Diana, an artist and single mother of a five-year old daughter. Alice, played by Hecht, is the hippie wife of Doug, an economics professor striving for tenure. She meets Diana through a babysitting cooperative that Doug has created. As their two daughters bond, the women become unlikely friends. The recollections of their early friendship and subsequent developments, presented as they sit at opposite ends of a long table, are moderately interesting and sometimes amusing, but, for me at least, less than compelling. In a gimmick that did not work for me, Linney also plays Alice’s husband during certain scenes. Aside from that, Linney is the unaffectedly persuasive pro we have learned to expect. And then there’s Hecht. First of all, the makeup and lighting creatives have done her a great disservice, making her eyes look almost ghoulishly deeply set and her features unnaturally drawn. The unfortunate result is that she looks at least a generation older than Linney, who in real life is a year her senior. Furthermore, Hecht’s acting has always been too mannered for my taste. From the moment she opened her mouth with her broad version of a midwestern accent, I knew that my apprehension was well-founded. I think casting her as Alice was an unfortunate choice. The set by John Lee Beatty (Plaza Suite, Disgraced) is elegantly simple. Linda Cho’s (POTUS, Take Me Out) costume for Hecht shouts rather than whispers “hippie.” Director Daniel Sullivan (Proof, The Little Foxes, The Columnist) does his best to enliven what is a very static play, with limited success. I was not sorry I saw it, but I was disappointed that it wasn’t better. Running time: 95 minutes; no intermission.

The Little Foxes

A-

While the critics never placed Lillian Hellman in the first rank of American playwrights, her work, at least as exemplified by this 1939 family drama, has much to recommend it and is certainly worthy of an occasional revival. She surely knew how to write a tight plot and juicy roles that allow actors to show their mettle. Manhattan Theatre Club has assembled a first-rate cast for this production, led by Laura Linney and Cynthia Nixon who alternate the roles of Regina and Birdie. This tale of an avaricious family greedy to progress from rich to filthy rich bears an extra frisson of timeliness today. We meet the Hubbard family in Alabama in 1900. Brothers Ben (Michael McKean) and Oscar (Darren Goldstein) are wooing a Chicago industrialist Mr. Marshall (David Alford) to build a cotton mill on their property. To keep the deal in the family, they need their sister Regina Giddens (Linney at my performance) to raise a third of the investment. Trouble is her husband Horace (Richard Thomas), who controls the pursestrings, is away in Baltimore convalescing from a heart condition and shows no inclination to return or even to respond to their increasingly frantic letters. Regina skillfully uses her leverage to win a better deal from her brothers and persuades her virtuous 17-year-old daughter Alexandra (Francesca Carpanini) to go to Baltimore to fetch Horace. Leo Hubbard (Michael Benz), the unsavory son of Oscar and Birdie, works in Horace’s bank and comes up with a shady plan that allows the brothers to proceed without Regina. When Horace returns, he discovers their plot and, unfortunately for him, reveals it to his wife. There is more scheming, a shocking scene between Horace and Regina and, surprisingly for its time, an ending in which evil is not punished, at least not explicitly. The role of Regina, catnip for such actresses as Tallulah Bankhead and Bette Davis, suits Linney well; she captures both the steeliness and the traces of charm. However, she is almost overshadowed by Cynthia Nixon’s superb performance as her sister-in-law Birdie, a delicate wounded bird driven to drink by her husband’s abuse; her monologue in the final act is absolutely wrenching. Linney and Nixon are so persuasive in these roles that is hard to imagine them in reverse. Even the servants are well-cast — Charles Turner as the butler Cal and Caroline Stefanie Clay as Addie, the housekeeper whose eye rolls and facial expressions speak louder than words. Jane Greenwood’s costumes are marvelous. Scott Pask’s living room set is fine except that the staircase, focus of a crucial scene, looks strangely cramped. Daniel Sullivan directs with a sure hand. The play is far from subtle, but, with such a fine production,  it is very entertaining. Running time: two hours 25 minutes including two intermissions.