Days of Wine and Roses

B-

It’s over 20 years since Kelli O’Hara (The King and I, The Light in the Piazza) suggested to Adam Guettel (The Light in the Piazza, Floyd Collins) that he write a musical for her and Brian D’Arcy James (Sweet Smell of Success, Into the Woods) based on Blake Edwards’s 1962 film about Kirsten and Joe, a couple struggling with alcoholism. That project has finally come to fruition on the stage of Atlantic Theater Company’s Linda Gross Theater. One might wonder why anyone would choose this screenplay to musicalize. The answer, in short, seems to be to provide a showcase for O’Hara’s prodigious vocal talents and acting chops. In that regard, it succeeds. However, the film does not yield itself easily to musicalization. Craig Lucas’s (Prelude to a Kiss, The Light in the Piazza) book generally hews fairly close to the screenplay, incorporating large blocks of dialog, but Guettel’s songs are not hummers and some of his lyrics neither advance the action nor deepen the characterization. The main difference in the musical is that the role of their daughter Lila (Ella Dane Morgan, Waitress) has been substantially enlarged, which somewhat blurs the focus. For some reason, the locale has been changed from San Francisco to New York. It is mentioned that Joe served in the Korean War and there is a brief hint that he suffers from PTSD. Since that war didn’t start until the middle of 1950, it seems strange that 1950 is listed in the program as the year the play is set. The other non-singing characters are well-cast. Byron Jennings (She Loves Me, Is He Dead?) is strong as Kirsten’s father and David Jennings (Tina, Once on This Island), no relation to Byron, is fine as Jim, Joe’s AA sponsor. Lizzie Clachan’s (Blindness, A Number) scenic design economically suggests a wide variety of locations. Dede Ayite’s (Slave Play, How I Learned To Drive) costumes fit the period. Michael Greif’s (Dear Evan Hansen, Machinal) direction is fluid and unfussy. For Kelli O’Hara fans, the show is a must see. I just wish that I found everything else as stirring as her performance. Running time: 95 minutes, no intermission.

Cyprus Avenue

B-

This seems to be the season for importing harrowing plays with superb actors from across the pond. First we got “Girls & Boys,” a solo piece for Carey Mulligan that takes a very dark turn. Now The Public Theater is presenting this import from Dublin and London starring an actor too rarely seen here, Stephen Rea. “Girls & Boys” is a stroll in the park compared to this play. Rarely have I left a theater feeling so emotionally drained. David Ireland has written a very, very black comedy about a Belfast Protestant, Eric (Rea; Someone Who'll Watch Over Me, "Thr Crying Game"), who becomes obsessed with the idea that his infant granddaughter is the incarnation of archenemy IRA president Gerry Adams. Eric is a staunch Unionist who derives his sense of self from hatred toward Irish Catholics or, as he calls them, Fenians. He actually says “We are nothing without prejudice.” After verbally abusing his wife Bernie (Andrea Irvine) and daughter Julie (Amy Molloy) and menacing the baby, Eric is turned out of his own home. We learn his story in flashbacks during his conversations with his black psychologist Bridget (Ronke Adékoluejo). Be prepared to hear both the N word and the C word. While sitting on a park bench, Eric is accosted by Slim (Chris Corrigan), a Protestant paramilitary who mistakes him for a Fenian. Their extended scenes together are the best in the play. Each gets a remarkable soliloquy that exemplifies absurdism of a high order. The roles for the women, alas, are underwritten. While the details are about ethnic strife in Northern Ireland, the playwright is clearly using them to illustrate the all-too-relevant universal problem of demonizing the other and turning too readily to violence. At a certain point, the play crosses a line from black comedy to theater of cruelty. The last 20 or so minutes of the play were excruciating to sit through. I felt manipulated, exhausted and angry. The entire cast is strong, particularly Rea and Corrigan. Vicky Featherstone, artistic director of the Royal Court, successfuly gives equal attention to the two halves of the audience seated on opposite sides. The scenic and costume design by Lizzie Clachan (Yerma) is appropriately bland. It would have been helpful if the program had included a few notes, e.g., explaining that the UVF is a Protestant paramilitary group or that Cyprus Avenue is a prosperous Belfast street mentioned in a Van Morrison song. Whether the opportunity to see Stephen Rea in an absurdist play that is highly relevant to our world is worth sitting through the play’s shocking finale is a close call. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

Yerma

B+

Although the Olivier which it was awarded was for Best Revival of a Play, the Young Vic production of Yerma now at the Park Avenue Armory is hardly a revival in the usual sense. With a different location, period, social class, motivation, outcome and text, there is not a lot left of Lorca’s 1934 drama except for the theme of a woman undone by infertility. What we get instead, in the words of the program, is a “radically reimagined adaptation.” Author/director Simon Stone has confined the actors to a glass box with stadium seating on facing sides. The voyeuristic effect is striking, but also distancing. The fact that the actors are heard only as mic’d voices is a bit unnerving. The play is divided into seven chapters. Video surtitles during blackouts announce the chapters and scenes and occasionally contextualize them. Some of the set changes between scenes are magically rapid. The downside is that to drown out the sounds of moving sets, there are deafening blasts of choral music. In this high-concept environment, the actors have their work cut out for them. Fortunately, they are up to the task and then some. As the title character, known in this version only as Her, Billie Piper plays a London newspaper journalist and blogger. Her long-time lover and then husband John (Brendan Cowell) is a businessman who is often away on international trips. Her mother Helen (Maureen Beattie) is a cold-blooded academic who is anything but maternal. Her sister Mary (Charlotte Randle) doesn’t let a bad marriage prevent her from repeatedly getting pregnant. Her ex-lover Victor (John MacMillan), whose child she had aborted a decade before, suddenly reappears in her life. Her young assistant Des (Thalissa Teixeira) encourages Her to blog about the painful experiences of trying to conceive, irrespective of the embarrassment it might cause others. It is painful to watch Her change from the brash confident woman we initially meet into the desperate, unhinged woman she becomes. Ms. Piper does not hold back; it is easy to see why she won the Olivier for her performance. Mr. Cowell is a fine foil for her. I admire Mr. Stone and designer Lizzie Clachan for the originality of their concept, even though I found it somewhat alienating. It was a stimulating evening. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.