Spain

 C-

Although Second Stage describes their new play by Jen Silverman (Collective Rage: A Play in 5 Betties) as “seductive” and “funny,” I failed to be either seduced or amused by it. Silverman presents an imagined version of the circumstances behind the filming of “The Spanish Earth,” a 1937 documentary intended to win sympathy and support for the Spanish Republican government against Franco and his Fascist allies. The film was directed by Dutch documentarian Joris Ivens, written by John Dos Passos, Lillian Hellman and Ernest Hemingway, and edited by Ivens’s wife-to-be Helen van Dongen, all of whom except Hellman are characters in the play. Silverman posits that Ivens (Andrew Burnap; Camelot, The Inheritance) has become dependent on Russia to finance his films and has been ordered by his opera-loving KGB handler Karl (Zachary James; The Addams Family) to make a film promoting the Republican cause while carefully omitting any mention of Russian support. Karl, by the way, is the person who introduced him to Helen (Marin Ireland; Reasons To Be Pretty, Blue Ridge). Neither Joris nor Helen has ever been to Spain. We observe their strategizing to make the film, including their intent to play on the rivalry between Dos Passos (Erik Lochtefeld; Metamorphoses, Misery) and Hemingway (Danny Wolohan; To Kill a Mockingbird, Octoroon). Rifts in the relationship between Joris and Helen repeatedly emerge. After the film is made, the play suddenly jumps 80 years into the future with a scene in which the actor who played Karl is instructing the other four actors that movies are now passe and they must learn to use the internet to create propaganda. For me the play completely failed to cohere or find a consistent style. A couple of scenes that placed Hemingway in a recording studio seemed out of left field. His characterization seemed cartoonish compared to the other roles. Ireland and Bernap, who I have found compelling in previous roles, were bland here. James has a marvelous singing voice that I wish we had heard more of. Dane Laffrey’s (Parade, Once on This Island) set uses a revolving platform to create several settings with just a few suggestive props. Alejo Vietti’s (Allegiance, Beautiful) period costumes are apt. Tyne Rafaeli’s (The Coast Starlight, Epiphany) direction is unfussy, but cannot supply coherence  where there is none. All in all, it was a great disappointment. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Happy Talk

C-

Playwright Jesse Eisenberg (The Revisionist, The Spoils) does not seem to have had a clear goal in mind for this disappointing work. What begins as a comedic portrait of a totally self-absorbed suburban woman turns into something much darker. Along the way, we get a picture of the circumscribed lives of undocumented immigrants and a screed against our materialistic society. The woman in question is the needy Lorraine (Susan Sarandon; Exit the King), who slakes her bottomless thirst for attention by appearing in musical productions at her local Jersey JCC. Her ailing husband Bill (Daniel Oreskes; Russian Transport; Oslo) parks himself in an armchair with a Civil War history book and rarely speaks. Her declining mother Ruthie, confined to the downstairs bedroom, has been cared for by Ljuba (Marin Ireland; Blue Ridge, reasons to be pretty), an undocumented Serbian immigrant who would like to find a green-card marriage so she can bring her daughter to the US. While Ljuba’s alleged job is to look after Ruthie, she spends most of her time feeding Lorraine’s need for attention, almost like a surrogate daughter. Lorraine hatches the idea of fixing Ljuba up with a cast member from her current show. That turns out to be Ronny (Nico Santos; “Crazy Rich Asians”), who is playing Lt. Cable to Lorraine’s Bloody Mary in “South Pacific.” (Now there’s a production I’d like to see!) The fact that Ronny is flamboyantly gay and has a live-in boyfriend does not deter Lorraine. Ronny’s boyfriend has lost his job and is fine with going along with the fake marriage to get the $15,000 that Ljuba has taken years to save up. We learn midway through the play that Lorraine and Bill actually have an alienated daughter Jenny (Tedra Millan; Present Laughter, The Wolves), who, against all logic, breaks into the house in the middle of the night, allegedly to say goodbye to her grandmother before taking off for Costa Rica where she and her new husband hope to start a poultry farm. Jenny is such a nasty piece of work that one almost feels sorry for Lorraine. When Ljuba and Ronny begin to hang out without including Lorraine, she feels neglected. The final scene has a double-whammy, which seems partially unearned. While it is a pleasure to see both Sarandon and Ireland together onstage, the truth is that neither is ideally cast. The two men and Ms. Millan come off better in their roles. Derek McLane’s (The True, Burn This) set is the ultimately bland suburban living room, enlivened only by posters of Lorraine’s previous shows. Clint Ramos’s (The True, Violet) costumes are apt. Scott Elliott’s (The True, Good for Otto) direction lets scenes drag a bit. It’s sporadically entertaining, but it ultimately disappoints. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

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.

Summer and Smoke

C+

This revival of Tennessee Williams’s 1948 drama marks the first time that either of the two co-producers, Classic Stage Company (CSC) and Transport Group, has presented one of his works. Williams, who took over three years to write the play, was never fully satisfied with it and ended up revising it substantially under the title The Eccentricities of a Nightingale in 1964. Nevertheless, it has been frequently revived, probably because the juicy part of Alma Winemiller has been catnip to a series of fine actresses including Anne Jackson, Geraldine Page, Betsy Palmer, Mary McDonnell, Laila Robins and Amanda Plummer. This time around, Marin Ireland (Big Knife, reasons to be pretty), does the honors, giving a solid performance as the neurasthenic preacher’s daughter who falls in love with the boy next door, John Buchanan (a fine Nathan Darrow; Richard III), son of the town doctor (Phillip Clark; Come Back, Little Sheba). Alma, who is quick to point out that her name is Spanish for “soul,” is looking for spiritual love while John is a sensualist wastrel. He argues that his anatomy chart has no place for a soul. Alma’s father Rev. Winemiller (T. Ryder Smith; Oslo) is strict with her and her mother (Barbara Walsh; Falsettos) is emotionally challenged. Alma gives voice lessons; her favorite pupil is Nellie Ewell (Hannah Elless), a talentless girl with a disreputable mother. John becomes involved with a Mexican beauty Rosa Gonzales (Elena Hurst) whose father (Gerardo Rodriguez) owns the local casino. A tragedy leads John and Alma to reconsider their lives and they essentially switch their philosophical positions. This being a Tennessee Williams play, don’t expect things to end well for the heroine. The minimalist set design by Dane Laffrey (Come Back, Little Sheba) presents a long white rectangle overhung by a matching white dropped ceiling with no props except six antique chairs, an easel with an oil painting representing the angel sculpture/fountain in the town square and, for part of the play, another easel with an anatomy chart. With no other props, the actors must mime such acts as making a phone call, using a stethoscope and eating an ice cream cone. The lack of any division of space sometimes makes it difficult to discern where a scene is taking place. Kathryn Rohe’s costumes effectively set the period as early 20th century.  Director Jack Cummings III; Strange Interlude), artistic director of Transport Group, deals effectively with the problem of playing to an audience seated on three sides. I was glad to have the opportunity to see this minor play by an important American playwright, but I disliked a lot about the production. Running time: two hours 30 minutes including intermission. 

NOTE: CSC managed to annoy me before the play even began. As usual, I had to run the gauntlet of coffee house patrons to get their box office. Today, after making it to the auditorium, I learned that programs would not be distributed until after the play. For no discernible reason, the audience was forced to watch the play without the names of the actors, the setting of the play or whether there would be an intermission. I cannot think of any possible justification for this policy. When I finally got my hands on the program, I perused it carefully for possible “spoilers” but could find nothing other than the fact that one of the actors is married to the director. I hope they stop this ridiculous policy immediately.

On the Exhale

B

Marin Ireland (Ironbound, reasons to be pretty), one of our most talented stage actors, seems incapable of giving a less than compelling performance. In this dark drama by Martin Zimmerman now at Roundabout Underground’s Black Box Theatre, she plays a professor in a “concealed carry” state, who is morbidly afraid that some male student, unhappy with a grade, might settle his grievance with a gun. As a single mother, her main fear is that no one would be there to raise her only child. When a gunman does strike, it is not at the university, but at her son’s elementary school. Her son is one of the victims. She deals with her grief in quite unexpected ways. While the acting is impeccable, the material seemed a bit formulaic. During the last 15 minutes, the play took what I felt was a wrong turn that undermined some of its force. The set design by Rachel Hauck is minimal in the extreme — a platform with a black wall behind it. Emily Rehbolz’s costume does not call attention to itself. The lighting by Jen Schriever very effectively enhances the production. Leigh Silverman’s (Violet, Chinglish) unfussy direction is assured. It’s only an hour long, but it’s a very intense hour.

The Big Knife **

After the success of the recent revivals of "Awake and Sing!" and "Golden Boy," it must have seemed like a good idea for Roundabout Theatre to revive another Clifford Odets play. Unfortunately, it wasn't -- at least not this minor work set in Hollywood in 1948. Charlie Castle (Bobby Cannavale) is a disillusioned leading man whom  studio head Marcus Hoff (Richard Kind) is determined to get to sign a 12-year contract by whatever means necessary. Charlie's idealistic wife Marion (Marin Ireland) threatens to divorce him if he signs. Their screenwriter friend Hank Teagle (C.J. Wilson), who is going back to New York to write a novel about Tinseltown, hopes Marion will leave Charlie and come with him. We also meet Buddy Bliss (Joey Slotnick), the PR man who took the rap and served time for an auto accident that Charlie was responsible for, his unsatisfied wife Connie (Ana Reeder) who has slept with Charlie occasionally, Dixie Evans (Rachel Brosnahan), the ingenue who was in the car with Charlie when the accident occurred and whose silence the studio has bought, the aptly named Smiley Coy (Reg Rogers), Hoff's right-hand man, Charlie's agent Nat Danziger (Chip Zien), gossip columnist Patty Benedict (Brenda Wehle) and the butler Russell (Billy Eugene Jones). While I have much admired Cannavale and Ireland on other occasions, I found them inadequate here. In their defense, their roles are less interesting than the supporting characters, up to and including the butler. The play springs briefly to life in the final scene, but by then it is far too late to care. The dialog is overwrought, the characters are underwritten and the production is undercooked, all adding up to a long tedious evening. Doug Hughes' direction shows no improvement over the mess he made out of "Enemy of the People" last year. On the plus side, John Lee Beatty's set design is superb and Catherine Zuber's costumes are wonderful. If the trite plot really interests you, you can save a lot of money by renting the film version with such Hollywood luminaries as Jack Palance, Ida Lupino, Wendell Corey, Jean Hagen, Rod Steiger, Shelley Winters, Ilka Chase and Everett Sloane. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes, including intermission.

Maple and Vine **

The intriguing premise of Jordan Harrison's new work at Playwrights Horizons is the existence of the Society of Dynamic Obsolescence, a group that has created a community where it's always 1955. The reenactors who have moved there are fleeing the burdensome freedoms of 21st-century America for a place and time where roles may be clearly defined, choices limited, secrets hidden, repression prevalent and prejudice rampant, but where there is a stronger sense of community than now. Katha (Marin Ireland), a harried book editor, and Ryu (Peter Kim), her Japanese-American husband unhappy in his career as a plastic surgeon, are recruited for a six-month trial stay by Dean (Trent Dawson) and his wife Ellen (Jeanine Serralles), a seemingly perfect 1950's couple. Omar, Katha's gay office mate in the present, and Roger, Ryu's mercurial boss in 1955, are both played by Pedro Pascal. Serrales doubles as a worker in Katha's office. The play's premise is elaborated in many short scenes, leading to an ending that is a bit pat. The set, by Alexander Dodge, is a technical marvel: the center section of the stage disappears into the floor several times and comes up with a new set on it. Smaller modular sets are pushed around by a crew of four. Frankly, I found all the set changing a distraction. Both side aisles of the theater are used for several scenes. If you are seated in the first five or six rows, you risk whiplash spinning around trying to find the actors. I think director Anne Kauffman could have found a better solution. Ilona Somogyi's period costumes are wonderful. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes including intermission.