Camelot

B

It has been over 62 years since I saw Lerner and Loewe’s (My Fair Lady, Gigi) Arthurian musical during its pre-Broadway Boston run. My memories are dim, but I do recall enjoying the wonderful music and clever lyrics sung by its three stars (Richard Burton, Julie Andrews and Robert Goulet). I don’t remember much about the book, which is probably significant. The fact that it has not had a Broadway revival since 1993 has usually been blamed on its less-than-satisfying book. Now Lincoln Center Theater has engaged Aaron Sorkin (To Kill a Mockingbird) for a do-over and the result is in previews on the Vivian Beaumont stage. I don’t remember the details of the original clearly enough to say whether the revised book is a step forward or backward, but I will say that the material remains largely intractable. While the more intimate scenes work well, the attempt to squeeze in so much exposition, particularly in the second act, weighs heavily on the show. And it all leads to an ending that I found musically and dramatically unsatisfying. Nevertheless, I was grateful for the opportunity to hear the gorgeous songs again, sung by three fine singing actors (Andrew Burnap (Inheritance), Phillipa Soo (Hamilton) and Matias de la Flor (u/s for Jordan Donica), accompanied by a large orchestra. Burnap not only sings well, but is a fine actor. While I liked Soo, I thought she presented as more womanly than girlish. I was sorry to miss Donica, but de la Flor sang and acted convincingly. The set by Michael Yeargan (My Fair Lady) resembles the interior of a cathedral with props dragged in as needed. Since they did introduce a largish table, I was surprised it was not round. Jennifer Moeller’s costumes for the knights were initially rather drab in charcoal and black until colored capes were added later. The costumes for Guenevere were quite lavish. The choreography by Byron Easley (Slave Play) did not make a strong impression. Director Bartlett Sher’s musical winning streak at LCT (South Pacific, My Fair Lady, The King and I) led me to arrive with expectations that were too high. A word about seating – don’t get center seats in the first few rows because the jutting stage is quite high. I have heard complaints that from these seats the orchestra, which is underneath the stage, sounds too loud and the voices sound too weak. I was glad to have seen the show even though it disappointed in some respects. Running time: two hours 50 minutes including intermission.

The Sound Inside

B-

I was of two minds about seeing this Lincoln Center Theater import from Williamstown, now at Studio 54. One the one hand, I have long been a fan of Mary Louise Parker (How I Learned To Drive, Prelude to a Kiss, Proof, Heisenberg) and rarely pass up the opportunity to see her onstage. On the other hand, my previous experience with plays by Adam Rapp (Red Light Winter; The Hallway Trilogy; Dreams of Flying, Dreams of Falling) has not been positive; somehow our sensibilities do not align. This dark (literally and figuratively) two-hander charts the course of a fraught relationship between Bella, a 50-ish, rather solitary writing professor at Yale, recently diagnosed with advanced cancer, and Christopher (Will Hochman; Dead Poets Society), a talented, rebellious freshman working on his first novel. Their initially contentious office-hour meetings develop into something more congenial as Bella encourages him with his nascent novel. Eventually, each asks the other for an important favor. I suspect that any guesses you have about how things will turn out will be wrong. In addition to the articulate dialogue, there are long passages of well-wrought narration, mostly by Bella. Director David Cromer (The Band’s Visit, Tribes, Our Town) clearly has an affinity for this material. The minimalist set design by Alexander Woodward, with locations emerging from the murk as needed, is quite effective, thanks in part to sensitive lighting by Heather Gilbert. While there was much about the production to admire, especially the fine acting, I ultimately found it a bit contrived and manipulative. The many literary allusions will be catnip to those who catch them. The gloomy subject matter may be a trigger for those who have had recent family tragedy. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

My Fair Lady

A

Bartlett Sher and Lincoln Center Theater have done it again. With their wonderful revivals of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific and The King and I, they had set the bar for musical revivals very high. Nevertheless, they have managed to outdo themselves with this spectacular production of Lerner and Loewe’s much-loved musical based on George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion. In the roles created by Rex Harrison and Julie Andrews, Sher boldly cast two actors whose names are not instantly recognizable and who had not previously been seen in musicals, Harry Hadden-Paton ("Downton Abbey," "The Crown") as Professor Henry Higgins and Lauren Ambrose (Awake and Sing!; "Six Feet Under") as Eliza Doolittle. Sher’s gamble has paid off handsomely. In addition to her considerable acting chops, Ms. Ambrose turns out to have a lovely voice. Mr. Hadden-Patton is a fine actor who negotiates the transition between speaking and singing with great skill. As Eliza’s father Alfred P. Doolittle, the ever-enjoyable Norbert Leo Butz (Catch Me If You Can, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels) threatens to steal the show. Allan Corduner (Titanic, "Topsy-Turvy"), a stalwart of the London theater scene, is excellent as Colonel Pickering. Theater icon Diana Rigg (Medea, The Misanthrope) lends dignity and warmth to the role of Mrs. Higgins. Jordan Donica (The Phantom of the Opera) makes a handsome, vocally adept Freddy Eynsford-Hill, a role I find underwritten. Linda Mugleston (Beautiful, On the 20th Century) is properly unflappable as Higgins’s housekeeper Mrs. Pearce. Manu Narayan (Bombay Dreams) seems a bit too broad and effete as Hungarian linguist Professor Zoltan Karpathy. In addition to his wonderful two-level revolving main set for the interior of 27A Wimpole Street, Michael Yeargan (Oslo, The King and I) has created an evocative Covent Garden, an opulent embassy ballroom, a minimalist but clever setting for Ascot, for Mrs. Higgins’s solarium and for the interior of Doolittle’s favorite pub. The period costumes by Catherine Zuber (Junk, Oslo, The King and I) are superb. The choreography by Christopher Gattelli (The King and I, Newsies) is fine, although I didn’t understand why there were gender-bending chorines in the pub scene. The large orchestra under Ted Sperling is wonderful and gets to appear onstage en masse at the ball. The music, lyrics and book remain among the best ever written for a musical. Bartlett Sher (also Oslo, Golden Boy, Fiddler on the Roof) has brought it all together seamlessly and satisfyingly. It’s a near-perfect production of what many have called the perfect musical. My only reservation is about the ending, where Sher has chosen to follow Shaw rather than Lerner and Loewe (Camelot, Brigadoon, Gigi). Without that quibble, I would have given it an A+. Running time: two hours 55 minutes including intermission.

Admissions

A-

The double-edged title of this provocative new play by Joshua Harmon (Bad Jews, Significant Other) at Lincoln Center Theater refers not only to choosing college students but to acknowledging the gap between behavior and ideals. The setting is Hillcrest School, a New Hampshire prep school where Sherri Rosen-Mason (Jessica Hecht; The Price, The Assembled Parties) is dean of admissions, her husband Bill Mason (Andrew Garman; The Christians, The Moors) is headmaster and their son Charlie Luther Mason (Ben Edelman; Significant Other) is a bright senior. Sherri is proud that in her 15 years on her job she has tripled minority enrollment. In the first scene, she harshly berates Roberta (Ann McDonough; Dinner at Eight, What I Did Last Summer), a drolly passive-aggressive, older, long-time employee responsible for publishing the school bulletin for not including enough photos of minority students. We next meet her close friend Ginnie Peters (Sally Murphy; A Man of No Importance, LCT’s Carousel), a white woman married to a biracial man and mother of the unseen Perry, Charlie’s best friend since early childhood. When Yale accepts Perry but places Charlie on the deferred list, Charlie is humiliated. The 15-minute rant he delivers about the disadvantaged status of the white male besieged by affirmative action and feminism is the play’s dramatic highlight. Bill is horrified that his son has not absorbed the liberal values on which he was raised and calls him a spoiled brat. Sherri casts aside her professional views and behaves like any sympathetic mother. Her friendship with Ginnie is put to the test when Sherri does not rebuke her son for saying that Perry’s acceptance was racially motivated. Later, Charlie reflects on his situation and decides to pursue a sacrificial course of action more in accord with his parents’ values. Instead of pleasing them, this infuriates them and they do all they can to undermine his decision. Harmon has cleverly plotted the proceedings to show how noble intentions can be overruled when personal advantage is threatened. The dialogue is sharp and the balance between satire and realism is mostly successful. A few scenes run a bit longer than necessary. The cast brings the characters vividly to life vividly. Jessica Hecht avoids the mannerisms that sometimes mar her performances. Ben Edelman shows great promise. Ann McDonough is a delight. Riccardo Hernandez’s (Parade, Indecent) set combines Sherri’s office and home. The location of her desk right in the center with her home furniture around the edges suggests that her job is central to her life. I was sitting in the front row and the presence of actors shouting less than two feet away was a bit startling. Toni-Leslie James’s (Come from Away, Jitney) costumes are apt. Director Daniel Aukin (Bad Jews, 4000 Miles, Fulfillment Center) shows a real affinity for Harmon’s work, which, to me, has been improving with each new play. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

The Royale ***

After the success of The Great White Hope, Howard Sackler’s Pulitzer Prize-winning 1967 play about the career of early 20th-century black boxer Jack Johnson, starring James Earl Jones and Jane Alexander, it takes an act of bravery to write another play on that subject. Playwright Marco Ramirez’s drama, now in previews at Lincoln Center Theater’s Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater, focuses on the attempt to arrange an interracial championship bout between the black champion, called here Jay “The Sport” Jackson, with Bixby, the retired world champion. We meet Jay (Khris Davis); his trainer Wynton (Clarke Peters); Fish (McKinley Belcher III), Jay’s sparring partner; Max (John Lavelle), his white manager; and Nina (Montego Glover of “Memphis”), his sister. The emphasis is on what motivates Jackson and what collateral damage he is willing to overlook. The play would be rather pedestrian if not for the superbly stylized direction by Rachel Chavkin (“Preludes” and “Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812”) which dramatically elevates the material. No choreographer is listed so the credit for staging the almost balletic fight scenes must belong to Chavkin. Punches are percussively replaced by claps and stomps. The staging of the climactic match is even more surprising. The production is enhanced by Nick Vaughn’s monochromatic brown plank set and Dede M. Ayile’s period costumes. The actors mostly succeed in enlivening their rather generic characters. Although the material is a bit thin and formulaic, Chaikin's energetic staging made me more than willing to overlook the play’s flaws. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

Dada Woof Papa Hot ***

Yet another play about life among the white and wealthy gay residents of Manhattan? That was my first reaction upon learning about Peter Parnell’s unfortunately titled new play at Lincoln Center’s Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater. My lack of enthusiasm was misplaced. The play examines interesting questions of what has been gained and what has been lost with the arrival of gay marriage and gay parenthood. At the play’s center are two sets of gay fathers — Alan (John Benjamin Hickey) and Rob (Patrick Breen), the former a writer, the latter a psychotherapist, both in their forties — and a younger couple they meet at a gay parents’ group — staid financier Scott (Stephen Plunkett) and studly painter Jason (Alex Hurt). We also meet a straight couple —Alan’s best friend Michael (John Pankow), whose latest show on Broadway has just flopped, and his wife Serena (Kellie Overbey) — and Julia (Tammy Blanchard), an actress they both know. We follow them over the course of a year as they navigate pitfalls of parenthood and marriage, some common to all marriages and others unique to gay couples. The production is top-notch with an excellent cast, a wonderful set by John Lee Beatty that elegantly reconfigures to half a dozen locations, appropriate costumes by Jennifer von Mayrhauser and smooth direction by Scott Ellis. Parnell’s snappy dialogue is a treat. The play does sag slightly towards the end, but not enough to spoil it. Running time: one hour, 40 minutes; no intermission. NOTE: there is brief male frontal nudity, almost a requirement these days.

The Oldest Boy ****

Lincoln Center Theater is presenting the world premiere of this fascinating work by Sarah Ruhl, one of our most versatile and interesting playwrights. Her plays are so varied that it is difficult to find a common denominator other than flashes of her intelligence and humor. The present work almost has the aura of a fairy tale. An American woman identified only as Mother (a superb Celia Keenan-Bolger) is married to a Tibetan refugee (James Yaegashi) who owns a restaurant in an unnamed American city. Each of them has broken an engagement to marry. One day two Tibetan Buddhist monks (Jon Norman Schneider and James Saito) pay an unexpected visit. They think that the family’s three-year old son may be the reincarnation of an important Buddhist teacher. When the son (Ernest Abuba) passes their tests, they are convinced that he is indeed their late teacher reborn and ask to take him back to India, their home in exile, to be educated in their monastery. I will say no more about the outcome. Rebecca Taichman, who has directed many of Ruhl’s previous plays, once again demonstrates her affinity for Ruhl’s sensibility. It is hard to imagine a better production. The sets by Mimi Lien, the gorgeous costumes by Anita Yavich, the evocative lighting by Japhy Weideman, the sound design by Darron L. West, the puppetry by Matt Acheson, the choreography by Barney O’Hanlon and Taichman’s skillful direction combined to weave an almost hypnotic spell over me. It was a stimulating experience. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.

Act One ***

It's a bit ironic that this play about the storied theatrical collaboration of Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman was written and directed by James Lapine, who is noted for his own collaborative work but this time is working solo. Maybe that's the problem. Perhaps he needed another voice to rein him in from the play's excesses, particularly its excessive length. Maybe he was too smitten with Moss Hart's memoir to pare it down to a more manageable size. Nevertheless, this bioplay, now in previews at the Vivian Beaumont Theater, offers much to enjoy -- many will say too much. Any play that puts Santino Fontana, Tony Shalhoub and Andrea Martin on a stage together won't get too many complaints from me. Fontana is irresistibly charming as always and we get to enjoy Shalhoub and Martin in three roles each. The other 19 cast members are fine too. Yes, the play is old-fashioned and a bit sentimental, but it has many delightful moments. Only a nonprofit like Lincoln Center Theater is likely to take on such an expensive production. With some judicious trimming, it would be much improved. Beowulf Boritt's set works overtime to revolve between the play's many locales. Jane Greenwood's costumes are terrific. In general, I do not think it is a good idea for a playwright to direct his own work. There are exceptions, but this is not one of them. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes including intermission.

Domesticated ***

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Bruce Norris's acidic take on contemporary American gender relations, now at Lincoln Center Theater, is thoroughly entertaining and provocative without being fully satisfying. The by now iconic scene of a politician caught in a sex scandal resigning in public with his stoic wife at his side is our starting point. Fortunately for us, Bill and Judy are played flawlessly by Jeff Goldblum and Laurie Metcalf. The first act gives us Judy's view of the aftermath on herself, their daughters --  the self-absorbed Casey (Emily Meade) and adopted, virtually mute Cambodian daughter Cassidy (Misha Seo) --, housekeeper Pilar (Vanessa Aspillaga), Judy's best friend Bobbie (Mia Barron) and Bill's mother (Mary Beth Peil.) After his resignation speech, Bill does not get another chance to open his mouth until the very end of act one. We finally get Bill's side of the story in the second act as Norris sets him on a downward spiral, attacked by a transsexual (Robin de Jesus), rejected by patients, lectured by a Muslim woman on America's evils, estranged from his daughters, and finally confronted by Judy in a take-no-prisoners showdown. The play ends ambiguously. Norris is not subtle; he sometimes pushes his points too far and goes for easy targets like the talk show host (Karen Pittman) who uses the comatose prostitute Becky and her mother (Lizbeth Mackay) to pump up ratings. (Becky suffered a head injury during her session with Bill.) The play's scenes are cleverly interwoven by slides from daughter Casey's science report on varying gender roles in the animal kingdom, depicting an ever-diminishing role for the male of the species. The play is presented in the round with an effective minimalist set by Todd Rosenthal that suggests an arena. Jennifer von Mayrhauser's costumes are attractive. Anna D. Shapiro's direction is fluid and confident. I have some misgivings, particularly about the second act, but I nevertheless found it worthwhile. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes, including intermission.

The Nance ***

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All praise to Douglas Carter Beane for creating Chauncey Miles, a role that Nathan Lane was born to play. He is a complex character -- a homosexual who plays a flamboyant gay stereotype in burlesque, but who finds drag demeaning, whose politics are arch-conservative, whose preferred sex is a romp in the park or a pickup at the Automat in Greenwich Village, but who, surprisingly, attracts the love of Ned (Jonny Orsini), an young innocent new to the big city. A pre-election vice crackdown in 1937 puts both his livelihood and his lifestyle in jeopardy. Beame's clever concept is to alternate scenes of Chauncey's personal life with burlesque routines and backstage scenes. The burlesque sketches with his stage partner Efram (the excellent Louis J. Stadlen) are hoary but still hilarious. The three strippers, Sylvie, Joan and Carmen (Cady Huffman, Jenni Barber and Andrea Burns) are the funniest to tread the boards since "Gypsy." The rapid alternation of short scenes in the first act works like clockwork. The second act does not fare as well. The level of inventiveness is not as high, the focus gets a little blurry, and the ending is peculiar and abrupt. For Lane fans, his performance makes the play a "must-see" despite the flaws. Orsini runs the gamut from wooden to inspired; he certainly shines in the obligatory nude scene. John Lee Beatty's set design is effective and Ann Roth's costumes are evocative. Director Jack O'Brien's work is mostly fine. I wish the second act were better, but I am still very glad that I saw the play. This Lincoln Center Theater production at the Lyceum is still in previews as I write this. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes including intermission.

Ann ***

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I am not generally a fan of solo theatrical performances, so I was pleasantly surprised that I found this Lincoln Center Theater production quite enjoyable. In a bravura performance which keeps her onstage for almost two hours, Holland Taylor creates a vivid incarnation of Ann Richards, former Texas governor. Even though Taylor is also the playwright, I find her feat of memory remarkable. In the frame of a college commencement speech, we get a look back at Richards' early life and influences, her political career including a detailed look at one day in office, life after her defeat by George Bush and even a look beyond the grave. The emphasis is on anecdotes and reminiscences, many of them hilarious. Her battle with alcohol and her unhappy marriage are mentioned very briefly. It's more effective as an entertaining extended character sketch than as a history lesson. Some judicious trimming, particularly in the second act, would improve it. Nevertheless, it makes for a diverting evening. Michael Fagin's set design morphs from a generic auditorium stage to an attractive gubernatorial office. Julie Weiss's costume looks like something Richards would choose. Benjamin Endsley Klein's direction includes a few lovely grace notes, such as the office set receding as Richards looks back on her term as governor. Running time: two hours, including intermission.

Blood and GIfts **

J.T. Rogers' play about American policy in Afghanistan during the 1980's, now at the Mitzi E. Newhouse,  has much to admire: a fine cast, Michael Yeargan's elegantly simple set, Catharine Zuber's costumes, Bartlett Sher's smooth direction, a few terrific scenes, and, most of all, an important subject. Why is it then that I didn't like it more? Perhaps it's because watching anything that depends for some of its impact on the wisdom of hindsight makes me a bit uncomfortable, because it's too easy for the audience to feel smug and superior. Perhaps it's because the attempt to flesh out the private lives of the leading characters seemed half-hearted. Perhaps it's because its arrival in New York now a year after "The Great Game"(for which a 20-minute version was written, but omitted in New York) seems almost superfluous. Nevertheless, it is a worthy attempt to dramatize complicated events in Afghanistan, Pakistan and Washington. The focus is on James Warnock (Jeremy Davidson, who I thought shouted more than necessary), the CIA field operative in Pakistan, and his dealings with his Russian counterpart (the fine Michael Aronov); the longtime MI6 man in town (the always excellent Jefferson Mays), Warnock's liaison in the ISI (the believable Gabriel Ruiz); Abdullah Khan (the credible Bernard White), an Afghan warlord that Warnock trusts; Walter Barnes (the adroit John Procaccino), his CIA boss, and others.  Their complicated interactions flew by in rapid succession for over 2 1/2 hours,  leaving me a bit exhausted. There is one revelation in the final scene that Warnock seemed to be the only person in the entire theater to be surprised by.  I wasn't sure whether this was the playwright's attempt to show how clueless he had been for 10 years or just poor writing.

A Minister's Wife **

The four new musicals that I have seen at the Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater over the last several years (the other three being "A Man of No Importance," "The Glorious Ones" and "Happiness") shared one thing in common:  they were just good enough that I wished they were better. The current one, in my opinion the least interesting of the four, is a musicalization of Shaw's "Candida.." It is a modest effort with five actors (the character of Candida's father has been dropped) and four musicians in one 95-minute act. The music and lyrics are by Joshua Schmidt and Jan Levy Tranen, respectively, and the book is by Austin Pendelton. Michael Halberstam is listed as conceiver/director. Marc Kudisch plays Morell and Bobby Steggert is Marchbanks. While I have enjoyed both in the past, I did not think they excelled here. Kate Fry impressed as Candida. Liz Baltes was lively as Morell's secretary, but Drew Gehling was not as the curate. I liked the Victorian clutter of Allen Moyer's set. My major complaint is that the music too rarely carried the emotional weight of the play, and when it did, I didn't find it very pleasant to listen to.

Other Desert Cities **

Jon Robin Baitz's new play, now in previews at Lincoln Center Theater's Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater, brims with talent. With five worthy actors, a noted director (Joe Mantello), a wonderful set by John Lee Beatty and an interesting premise, it should have made for a stimulating evening. Alas, it didn't. The plot revolves around whether East Coast lefty writer-daughter Brooke Wyeth (Elizabeth Marvel) should publish her memoir about a family tragedy that happened 25 years previously, no matter what pain it causes her Republican parents Polly & Lyman Wyeth (Stockard Channing & Stacy Keach) who are living in Palm Springs splendor in self-exile from Hollywood. The underutilized Linda Lavin plays Polly's alcoholic sister who is using her niece to work out her own feelings against her sister. Thomas Sadoski plays Brooke's younger brother, producer of a "Judge Judy"-type tv show. They all have at each other for an act and a half, until we learn that things are not quite as they seem. A final scene set five years later detracts rather than adds to the plot. The dialog is mostly lackuster, the plot has gaping holes and any claims to a larger significance are unearned. The shock of the evening for me was Channing, whom I have always enjoyed in the past. Her face lacked expression and her delivery lacked conviction. I should add that most of the people around me responded enthusiastically to the play. I wish I could have shared their enthusiasm.

A Free Man of Color **

This seems to be Lincoln Center Theater's season for wildly ambitious, lavishly produced, deeply flawed productions --first "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" (which I enjoyed despite its flaws) and now John Guare's "A Free Man of Color." This melange of faux-Restoration comedy, historical pageant and Don Juan tribute, with a few metatheatrical tricks (a play within a play, allusions to future events) is a mess. But what an interesting mess! 26 actors portray 37 characters including Napoleon, Tousaint L'Ouverture, Jefferson, Meriwether Lewis, Walter Reed and Feydeau  The plot revolves around Jacques Cornet, a freed mulatto, dandified Casanova and the wealthiest man in 1800 New Orleans, whose prodigious endowment makes him catnip to the ladies. Jeffrey Wright brings him vividly to life. The cast is a veritable cornucopia of New York stage actors, including Peter Bartlett, Veanne Cox, John McMartin, Mos, Reg Rogers, Robert Stanton, all of whom shine. George C. Wolfe keeps things moving smoothly.The sets and costumes, by David Rockwell and Ann Hould-Ward respectively, greatly enhance the production. Would that all the fine acting, gorgeous sets and lush costumes were in service of something a bit more coherent and substantive. Although the play certainly has many shortcomings, it also has its share of enjoyable moments. I salute Lincoln Center Theater for taking on an ambitious project that no commercial producer would touch.