Little Shop of Horrors

A-

Did New York really need another revival of this oft-produced cult musical by the talented team of Howard Ashman and Alan Menken? Without having seen it, I would have said “no” and I would have been wrong. This is a revival with a difference, combining big talent with small scale. It is not often that we get to see Broadway stars like Christian Borle (Something Rotten!, Peter and the Starcatcher, Falsettos) and Jonathan Groff (Spring Awakening, Hair, Hamilton) in such an intimate space, in this case the Westside Theatre. Since the show only has eight actors (one of whom is unseen) plus two puppeteers, it really belongs in a small theater rather than on Broadway. (Alas, Broadway talent, even in an off-Broadway theater, comes with Broadway prices.) The ever-watchable Christian Borle is amazing here in several different roles, most notably that of Orin, the sadistic dentist (a role created by Jack Nicholson in the original Roger Corman film). He makes it clear why he has two Tonys. The versatile Jonathan Groff captures both the nebbish and the opportunist in Seymour. Tammy Blanchard (Gypsy, How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying), in the unenviable position of following the memorable Ellen Greene as Audrey, wisely does not attempt to imitate her. Blanchard’s Audrey seems even more world-weary and insecure. Her voice, while pleasant, is no match for Greene’s. Tom Alan Robbins (Head Over Heels, Newsies) is fine as Mushnik, Seymour and Audrey’s gruff boss. The three urchins — Ronnette (Ari Groover; Head Over Heels), Crystal (Salome Smith) and Chiffon (Joy Woods)— who serve as Skid Row’s amusing Greek chorus, are terrific although it is occasionally difficult to hear their lyrics over the orchestra. The unseen Kingsley Leggs (Sister Act, Pretty Woman) nails the voice of Audrey II, the plant with a taste for human blood. The puppet, designed by Nicholas Mahon, is wonderful and is skillfully manipulated by Eric Wright (Madama Butterfly at the Met) and Teddy Yudain (The Little Match Girl at Spoleto USA). Julian Crouch’s (Head Over Heels, Big Fish) modest set is efficient. Tom Broecker’s (Everyday Rapture, “Saturday Night Live”) costumes are apt. Director Michael Mayer’s (Spring Awakening, Brooklynite) flawless direction pulls it all together splendidly. The book and lyrics by Ashman (Smile, Beauty and the Beast) and the music by Menken (Beauty and the Beast, Newsies, Aladdin) continue to delight. Each of the stars seemed to have an avid fan base from previous stage, film or television appearances; the audience was wildly enthusiastic. I was glad I splurged on a ticket because it was a very enjoyable evening. Running time: two hours including intermission. 

NOTES: 

After January 19, Jonathan Groff will be replaced by Gideon Glick, who filled in for him for two weeks when he had another commitment. 

It is unfortunate that the upstairs theater at Westside is inaccessible to wheelchairs.

Burn This

C

It took me only a few minutes to realize that this was not a play that I could feel emotionally invested in. While I have very much enjoyed other plays by Lanford Wilson (Fifth of July, Talley’s Folly, Balm in Gilead), this one just did not speak to me. Mourning was a very real thing in the gay community in 1987 with AIDS taking a heavy toll. For a gay playwright to write a play with gay characters, dancers no less, and never even obliquely mention AIDS is puzzling. To choose a freak boating accident off Fire Island to kill off Robbie, the gay character his two roommates are mourning, seemed like a copout. Furthermore, the role of Larry, the surviving gay roommate, while excellently played by Brandon Uranowitz (Falsettos, An American in Paris), is a tired cliche — the neutered, wisecracking, loyal gay sidekick. Also, for an ad man to be living with two dancers seemed a stretch. Anna (Kerri Russell, Fat Pig, “The Americans”), an emotionally restrained dancer trying to make the transition to choreographer, was Robbie’s dance partner. Her boyfriend Burton (David Furr; Noises Off, The Explorers Club) is an entitled, stolid, wealthy screenwriter of sci-fi films who both craves and fears writing a love story. As the play opens, Anna has just returned from Robbie’s funeral, where his large working-class family assumed she was Robbie’s girlfriend. They did not know or would not admit Robbie was gay and had never even seen him dance. The long first scene with Anna, Larry and Burton has several dead spots. The play wakes up when Pale, Robbie’s older brother, bangs on the door in the middle of the night. Fueled by coke and liquor, Pale rants about urban life and any other topic that fleetingly crosses his mind. Manager of a New Jersey restaurant, he has a wife and two children in Coral Gables. His claim to closeness to his late brother seems undermined by the statement that Robbie was only seven when the 19-year-old Pale left home.  As played by Adam Driver (Man and Boy, Look Back in Anger, “Girls”), Pale is larger than life — a crude, vibrant force of nature who overcomes Anna’s initial revulsion by sheer animal attraction. The key scene when their relationship turns from shared mourning to lust did not convince me. Driver is indisputably impressive, but I found his version of Pale unmodulated and too prone to reach for laughs. As Anna, Kerri Russell is the one who is pale. In her defense, I think her part is underwritten. In any case, I did not find myself caring very much about these people. When my attention lagged, I enjoyed the beauty of Natasha Katz’s (The Prom, Hello Dolly!) changing lighting of the panorama of lower Manhattan seen through the loft’s huge windows at various times of the day. It is hard to imagine that Derek McLane’s (American Son, The Parisian Woman) huge loft ever existed at an affordable rent; it is probably a 7- or 8-figure condo today. Clint Ramos’s (Eclipsed, Once on This Island) costumes are very good at enhancing character. If there are hidden depths in the script, director Michael Mayer (Head Over Heels, Spring Awakening) did not find them. At two hours 40 minutes including intermission, it’s a long slog.

Head over Heels

B

The idea hardly sounds promising: take a 16th-century English pastoral, “The Arcadia” by Sir Philip Sidney, revise it and marry it to a score made up of songs by the all-female 80’s rock group, the Go-Go’s. Nevertheless, it was sufficiently well-received at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival three years ago that a group of producers including Gwyneth Paltrow and Jordan Roth signed on to shape it up and bring it first to San Francisco and now to Broadway's Hudson Theatre. Against all odds, it mostly works. James Magruder (Triumph of Love) adapted Jeff Whitty’s (Avenue Q) original concept and book and the producers assembled a fine cast and a very talented creative team including Tom Kitt (Next to Normal) as orchestrator, Spencer Liff (Spring Awakening) as choreographer and Michael Mayer (Spring Awakening) as director. The sumptuous set design by Julian Crouch (Hedwig), the wonderful costumes by Arianne Phillips (Hedwig), the hyperactive lighting by Kevin Adams (Hedwig) and the clever projections by Andrew Lazarow (Privacy) all add greatly to the production. The eight leads — Jeremy Kushner, Rachel York, Bonnie Milligan, Samantha Pollino (u/s for Alexandra Socha), Tom Alan Robbins, Taylor Iman Jones, Andrew Durand and Peppermint — are all talented performers. Durand (Spring Awakening) is delightful in the dual role of shepherd and Amazon. It’s good to have Rachel York (City of Angels) back on a New York stage. Peppermint (“RuPaul’s Drag Race”) is notable for being the first transgender woman to create a role on Broadway. For me, Liff’s choreography is one of the strongest aspects of the show. l confess that I had never heard a Go-Go’s song before and would not feel deprived if I did not hear one again. Nevertheless, they fit reasonably well into the show. The GoGo’s must have reached cult status, because there was loud whooping and hollering whenever the first bars of a familiar song were heard. The plot is unabashedly silly, with an oracle, a curse, a royal family, a shepherd, hidden identities and a touch of “woke” gender fluidity. It’s not My Fair Lady or Carousel, but it works as naughty fun for a summer night. The curtain call is a real treat! Running time: two hours 20 minutes including intermission.

The Terms of My Surrender

B+

I will admit that I was skeptical when I heard that Michael Moore was coming to Broadway. Although I admire his films and agree with many of his social and political positions, I did not relish the thought of sitting through an evening-long polemic. Furthermore, anyone willing to pay Broadway prices [check Show-Score or Theatermania for discounts] to see him would no doubt already be a fan so I did not see the value of preaching to the choir. I am pleased to report that most of my reservations were unwarranted. Who knew that indignation could be so entertaining? Moore, with a substantial contribution by director Michael Mayer (Spring Awakening; Love, Love, Love), has cleverly assembled a varied evening that constantly shifts gears before it can become monotonous. There are reminiscences, send-ups, analyses, explications, an interview with a fellow activist and even a quiz show with audience participation. Yes, there are a few rants, but overall, Moore is considerably more subdued than I anticipated. I laughed a lot more than I expected to. This is not a bare-bones production. The set by David Rockwell (She Loves Me, On the Twentieth Century) has elements that pop up or slide in as needed. The huge American flag that forms the backdrop continually transforms with the aid of sophisticated projections by Andrew Lazarow (Privacy). The costumes by Jeff Mahshie (She Loves Me, Next to Normal) are clever. Although basically a one-man show, there are other people involved. The biggest surprise is a boffo finale that is as hilarious as it is unexpected. As to my qualms about the dubious value of preaching to the choir, perhaps there is therapeutic value to being surrounded by like-minded people and getting a well-crafted pep talk. Running time: one hour 50 minutes; no intermission.

Love, Love, Love *** B

Mike Bartlett’s (Cock, Bull, King Charles III) 2010 unflattering portrait of the British generation born around 1950 has arrived in New York at Roundabout’s Laura Pels Theatre. It follows a young self-absorbed couple over a 40+ year period. Kenneth (Richard Armitage) is freeloading in his hardworking older brother Henry’s (Alex Hurt) shabby London flat during his summer break from Oxford. When Henry brings home a date, the free-spirited Sandra (Amy Ryan), it does not turn out well for him. In the second act, set in a modern, attractive suburban home about 20 years later, Kenneth and Sandra have two teen-aged children — Rose (Zoe Kazan), a devoted violin student about to celebrate her 16th birthday and Jamie (Ben Rosenfield), a few years younger. It is clear that the couple feel hemmed in by their marriage and are not exactly model parents. In the final act, another 20 years later, we find Kenneth and Sandra in self-satisfied retirement while their adult children are floundering. The first act entertainingly sets up the central relationship. The second act, by far the most entertaining of the three, vividly shows how their situation has developed. The final act, alas, turns a bit polemical as Rose blames her parents and, by extension, their generation for her own problems. The dialog is sharp and the situations often amusing. You may cringe, but you’ll probably laugh. Amy Ryan is sensational, worth the price of admission. Richard Armitage and Zoe Kazan are also strong. Alex Hurt does his best with a one-note character and Ben Rosenfeld, with an underwritten one. The three distinct sets by Derek McClane and the period costumes by Susan Hilferty establish the time and place well. In the final act, more could have been done with makeup and wigs to make them look their age. Michael Mayer’s direction is assured and fluid. A few of the British references do not travel well. The ironic title comes from a Beatles lyric. If you appreciate fine acting and want to keep up with the works of an acclaimed contemporary playwright, you will probably find the play worthwhile. If you need sympathetic characters to identify with, you will probably not. Running time: 2 hours 5 minutes, including two intermissions.

Whorl Inside a Loop **

Sherie Rene Scott and Dick Scanlan, who brought us “Everyday Rapture” a few years ago, are back at Second Stage with another work inspired by actual events. In 2011 the two of them gave a one-day workshop on personal narrative for a class of convicted murderers at an upstate prison. It was so successful that they kept coming back to develop the prisoners’ narratives into a show that was presented for a prison audience. Now they have turned a fictionalized version of that workshop into a play. Scott plays The Volunteer, an actress whose less than noble reasons for being at the prison to teach a 12-session workshop are not at first revealed. Worse, after pledging to the men that their stories would not leave the room, she proceeds, in secret, to use them to develop a play for the public. There is a half-baked subplot that has Hillary visiting the prison to see a performance. The prison scenes alternate with considerably less successful scenes outside in which the prisoners crudely impersonate Scott’s husband, son, lawyer, producer, hair stylist and Hillary. One wishes that the authors had stuck to the prisoners’ narratives, which are quite powerful and well-performed. The other parts of the play are muddled and dilute the impact. A twist at the end that raises the question of who is actually telling whose story didn’t quite work for me. I had trouble separating Scott’s performance from the unsympathetic character she portrays. The rest of the cast — Derrick Baskin, Nicholas Christopher, Chris Myers, Ryan Quinn Daniel J. Watts, Donald Webber Jr. — is excellent and the core material is worthwhile. Too bad they didn’t just go with that. Michael Mayer co-directed with Scanlan. Incidentally, the title refers to a rare fingerprint pattern. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes; no intermission. 

P.S. Second Stage's Tony Kiser Theatre has to be the least audience-friendly theater built in the last 20 years. The seats are narrow and low, the padding is thin, the legroom minimal and there are no handrails on the center aisle. To sit for more than an hour was punishing.

Brooklynite **

This new musical about superheroes in Brooklyn, now in previews at the Vineyard Theatre, has lots of talent behind it. Composer/lyricist/ book co-author Peter Lerman has won both a Jonathan Larson Award and a Stephen Sondheim Young Artist Citation. Director and book co-author Michael Mayer brought us “Spring Awakening.” Choreographer Steven Hoggett’s many successes include “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time” and “Once.” The story is based on characters created by Michael Chabon and Ayelet Waldman. The cast includes Nick Cordero, so impressive in “Bullets over Broadway,” and the always entertaining Ann Harada. The production is lavish by Vineyard standards. Donyale Werle’s modular set creates several diverse locales, Andrea Lauer’s superhero costumes are wonderful, as are Andrew Lazarow’s projections. With all this talent, why did I find the show curiously flat and uninvolving? I think the main problems are the book and the music. The story of six superheroes created when an asteroid hit Gowanus and the nebbishy hardware store clerk who would like to join their ranks works better for a comic book than an off-Broadway musical. Except for a couple of songs, the music seemed merely serviceable. The cast, led by Matt Doyle and Nicolette Robinson, do their best to animate cardboard characters. The other recent musical about Brooklyn, “Fortress of Solitude,” was superior in every way. With its story of Brooklyn superheroes and in-jokes about that borough, this show might have been more suitable for some Williamsburg venue than for the Vineyard. I think a younger audience would appreciate it more. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes including intermission.