Unknown Soldier

A-

Inspired by the story of an amnesiac French WWI soldier, Daniel Goldstein (dir. Godspell) and the late Michael Friedman (Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, The Fortress of Solitude) worked on this musical off and on for almost a decade before it finally had a brief but successful production directed by Trip Cullman (The Pain of My Belligerence, Lobby Hero) at Williamstown in 2015. The three intended to develop it further but, busy with other commitments, did not get around to it. Then, in 2017, Friedman tragically died at the age of 41. Fortunately for us, Goldstein and Cullman decided to work on it again and brought it to Playwrights Horizons, where it is now in previews. The intriguing story, spanning four generations, is told in a manner that is sophisticated and complex. Friedman’s music ranges all the way from ballad to vaudeville and his lyrics go from conversational to poetic. He had a special knack of making the transition from speech to song sound natural. Goldstein’s book is like a satisfying puzzle and his lyrics are also fine. Cullman’s direction handles all the elements skillfully. We meet Ellen Rabinowitz, first as young girl (Zoe Glick; Frozen) being raised by her grandmother Lucy (Estelle Parsons; August: Osage County) in her Troy, NY home after the death of her mother in childbirth, then as a 40-ish Manhattan obstetrician (Margo Seibert; The Thanksgiving Play, Octet) in a troubled marriage. While closing up her grandmother’s home after her death, Ellen runs across an Ithaca newspaper clipping of her grandmother Lucy as a young woman (Kerstin Anderson; My Fair Lady) and an amnesiac soldier (Perry Sherman; Fun Home) who had been found wandering through Grand Central Terminal without any identification. Via email, Ellen enlists the aid of Andrew Hoffman (Eric Lochtefeld; The Light Years, Small Mouth Sounds), a middle-aged Cornell research librarian, to learn more about the photograph. As he gets more involved in the research, their exchanges become flirty and Andrew wants to meet Ellen. Meanwhile we see flashbacks to scenes of the young Lucy trying to adjust to the apparent death of her husband in the war and the amnesiac soldier trying to deal with his own loss. He is sent to an asylum where the doctor (Thomas Sesma; Nick & Nora, La Cage) names him Francis Grand. When they publish his photograph, hundreds of people, including Lucy, visit the asylum, hoping to find that he is their lost loved one. He responds to Lucy so she begins visiting daily in the hope that he will remember her. The photo in the newspaper was taken on a picnic she arranged at the asylum. The research breaks off here and Ellen does not know what happened next. When Ellen and Andrew finally meet, their meeting does not conform to our expectations. An undelivered letter from Lucy to Francis that Andrew gives to Ellen finally provides answers and allows her to get on with her life. The seven lead actors, all fine, are supplemented by an ensemble of five (James Crichton, Emilie Kouatchou, Jay McKenzie, Jessica Naimy, Mr. Sesma) who play a variety of roles. The five musicians do justice to the excellent arrangements. The monochrome gray set by Mark Wendland (The Pain of My Belligerence) shows five workstations in the basement of the Cornell Library surrounded by stacks of banker’s boxes. Hidden in some of these are miniatures of typical Troy houses and other buildings. In one corner there is a dinette set. Projections by Lucy Mackinnon (The Treasurer) are used sparingly. The costumes by Clint Ramos (Mankind, Slave Play) and Jacob A. Climer (Kid Victory) make it clear during what time period each scene takes place. The occasional choreography by Patrick McCollum (The Band’s Visit) is low-key. I have a few quibbles. A story told by Andrew is quite moving, but does not really seem to fit in. An abrupt shift to a vaudeville number is rather jolting. Overall, the story is emotionally satisfying and well-told. It illuminates the importance of the stories we tell ourselves. Sadly, it reminds us of what a loss to musical theater the untimely death of Michael Friedman was. I highly recommend seeing it to everyone who appreciates serious musicals. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

The Fortress of Solitude ***

You have to give a lot of credit to director Daniel Aukin for conceiving the idea of turning Jonathan Lethem’s 528-page novel into a musical. Itamar Moses’s book manages to retain much of the book’s spirit and keeps the narrative reasonably clear. For me, the outstanding feature of this production, now in previews at the Public Theater, is Michael Friedman’s wonderful score. Ranging from R&B through gospel to hip-hop, Friedman’s music and lyrics brilliantly capture the musical background underpinning the lives of two Brooklyn boys, one white, the other black, starting in the 1970’s, before Gowanus became Boerum Hill. Dylan Ebdus (Adam Chanler-Berat) is the son of Abraham (Ken Barnett), an emotionally distant artist, and Rachel (Kristen Sieh), an activist who is proud that her son is one of only three white students in his school, but soon abandons him. Adam befriends Mingus (Kyle Beltran), a black neighbor who is also motherless and also named for a musician. Mingus protects Dylan from the neighborhood bully Robert Woolfolk (Brian Tyree Henry). The close friendship between Mingus and Dylan includes a bit of teenage sexual experimentation. Mingus’s father Barrett Rude Jr. (Kevin Mambo) is a burned-out coke addict, who once had a musical career that seemed promising but never caught fire. When Mingus’s preacher grandfather Barrett Rude Sr. (Andre de Shields) is released from jail and moves in with his kin, tragedy ensues. For anyone living in New York during the mid-seventies, the show recreates much of the societal context of racial strife, drugs, graffiti, blackouts, the so-called justice system, and the first stages of gentrification. The music is terrific, especially when sung by Barrett Rude Jr.’s singing group --the Subtle Distinctions -- and by de Shields. Eugene Lee’s set is appropriately drab and Jessica Pabst’s costumes suit the characters well. In both the novel and the musical, the introduction of a ring with magical properties seemed both unnecessary and a distraction. I am not sure how clear the story will be for those who have not read the book. Nevertheless, the wonderful score, the excellent performances and the show’s bold ambition won me over. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes.

Mr. Burns, A Post-Electric Play **

Your reaction to Anne Washburn’s innovative play, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, may hinge on whether you are an avid fan of the animated TV series The Simpsons. Your familiarity with the characters will give you a head start in appreciating the plot. Washburn uses this popular cartoon series to show the important role pop culture plays in binding our society together. Much of the action focuses on an episode from the series’s fifth season called “Cape Feare,” a spoof of the twice-made Hollywood thriller. During the first act, survivors of a recent nuclear disaster sit around a campfire and pass the time by remembering lines from the show. In the second act, set seven years later, rival bands of roving performers survive by reenacting episodes from TV shows, complete with commercials. In the third act, set 75 years later, we see a stylized version of the “Cape Feare” episode in music and verse, presented as an inspirational pageant. The play was commissioned by The Civilians, a self-styled center for investigative theater; most of the cast (Quincy Tyler Bernstine, Susannah Flood, Gibson Frazier, Matthew Maher, Nedra McClyde, Jennifer R. Morris, Colleen Worthmann, Sam Breslin Wright) are associate artists of the group and director Steve Cosson is their artistic director. The play is enlivened by Michael Friedman’s music and Sam Pinkleton’s choreography. Neil Patel’s sets and Emily Rebholz’s costumes hit the mark. There is a terrific two-part theatrical effect at play’s end. I wish the first two acts were tightened up a bit: it’s a long slog to intermission and a smattering of people did not return. The final act ties many loose ends together, but it’s a long wait to get there. In case you were wondering, Mr. Burns is the name of Homer Simpson’s boss, the owner of the nuclear power plant responsible for the disaster. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes, including intermission.