Girls and Boys

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A friend recently said that she would gladly pay for the chance to hear Carey Mulligan (Skylight, The Seagull) read from the phone book. On the basis of her riveting performance in this exhilarating but harrowing solo piece by Dennis Kelly (Matilda the Musical) now at the Minetta Lane Theatre, I can understand why she is regarded as one of the finest actors of her generation. She commands the stage dressed in an orange shirt and umber slacks (by Jack Galloway), barefoot, with her short hair tied back. Over the course of an hour and 45 minutes, she does not strike a false note as she tells a tale that slides down a slippery path from amusing anecdote to tragedy. Monologues on a bare stage alternate with scenes in her monochromatic pale blue kitchen (set by Es Devlin; Machinal) during which she mimes interactions with her unseen children Leanne and Danny. In the monologues, she portrays a vibrant, bold career-minded woman who, through sheer force of will, becomes a successful documentary producer. In the kitchen scenes, she exists only in relation to her children. When her husband’s business fails, she is preoccupied with her own concerns. We know that things will turn out badly but we are on edge waiting to find out what will happen and why. For the entire play the audience was rapt in silent attention. The level of the writing is high except for a brief turn to the didactic near the end. Director Lyndsey Turner’s (Machinal) direction is assured. I am curious how the play picked up 15 minutes between London and New York. I doubt that it was by slowing down the speech because I still found it frustratingly rapid, especially considering the thick British accent. Whatever the reason, the extra 15 minutes are not a plus; a judicious trim would have improved the play. Be forewarned that the outcome is devastating. With that caution, I urge you to take advantage of this brief opportunity to see an amazing actor. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

NOTE: You may be interested to know that Audible, the recorded book company, has set up a theatrical division to produce plays at the Minetta Lane Theatre, with one or two characters, that will be recorded for sale on Audible. Harry Clarke was their first production. This is the second.

Machinal****

My theatergoing year got off to a very promising start with Roundabout Theatre's dazzling revival of Sophie Treadwell's expressionistic 1928 play. Helen (Rebecca Hall), a woman in her 20s who lives with and supports her unloving widowed mother (Suzanne Bertish), suffers from what used to be called neurasthenia, a kind of mental exhaustion brought on by the stresses of the impersonal, mechanistic, modern urban world. The stylized opening scene, set in the office where Helen works as a stenographer, brilliantly captures the relentless monotony and banality of the workplace. After Helen's older self-absorbed boss (Michael Cumpsty) takes a shine to her, she reluctantly marries him even though she cringes at his touch. When she visits a speakeasy with a friend, she meets a sexy young man (Morgan Spector) and begins an affair. Her powerful attraction to her lover makes her loveless marriage seem ever more intolerable. Complications ensue. Supporting the four excellent leads, 14 actors deftly handle multiple roles. A great deal of the success of the play is owed to its outstanding production design -- Es Devlin's set of beige geometrically etched panels mounted on a large turntable seems to bring us to a new location each time it revolves. It functions almost like one of the characters. When the set turns between scenes, we get fleeting vignettes choreographed by Sam Pinkleton which Jane Cox has dramatically lit by moving horizontal bands of light. The excellent sound design by Matt Tierney underscores the emotions onstage. Michael Krass has costumed the supporting cast in appropriately bleak monochromes. Director Lyndsey Turner has skillfully blended all these elements with brilliant results. Bravo to Roundabout for bringing us this rare treat. Running time: 95 minutes, no intermission.