Here There Are Blueberries

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I was going to skip seeing this co-production of New York Theatre Workshop and Tectonic Theater Project, because its focus is a peek at the daily lives of the people who ran Auschwitz, a topic that sounded too similar to that of the excellent film “The Zone of Interest,” which I had recently seen. That would have been a shame. Although both concentrate on the perpetrators rather than the victims of the Holocaust, their effect is quite different and the present work has larger ambitions. In the manner of his earlier work for Tectonic The Laramie Project, Moises Kaufman, who conceived, co-wrote (with Amanda Gronich) and directed the play, employs documentary techniques that emphasize interviews and research to tell the story. 60 years after the end of WWII, the archivists at the US Holocaust Memorial Museum receive a letter from an anonymous retired US Army officer inquiring whether they would like to see an album that he has had in his possession all those years. (After his death, several passports with different identities were found in his home. Who he was and why he kept the album secret for so long would be an interesting story in itself.) The album, while fascinating, raises questions of whether the museum should acquire anything that features the Nazis rather than their victims. The young archivist who receives the album, Rebecca Erbelding (Elizabeth Stahlmann) receives permission to study the album in her spare time. Eventually it is discovered that the album belonged to Karl Hocker, adjutant to commandant Richard Baer. The vacation lodge pictured where the Nazi officers and the attractive young female radio operators enjoy their leisure time is actually in a remote section of the Auschwitz property. Many of the officers in the album are identified, resulting in a dire awakening for their descendants who did not know the extent of their involvement in the extermination program. Ironically, two of the characters who receive the fullest treatment are the chief doctor’s son Tilman Taube (Jonathan Raviv) who pursues the truth and tries to recruit others to do the same, and  the commandant’s grandson Rainer Hoss (Charlie Thurston), whose life is nearly ruined by his discovery.  The only prisoner we hear from is Lili Jacob (Stahlmann again), who uncannily is the person to find another album that records the day of her arrival and has pictures of herself and her family. The banality of evil is a pervasive theme throughout. The opening is surprising. An ad for Leica featuring a spotlit camera morphs into a Leica commercial and a discussion of the importance of photography becoming accessible to the masses. Later, both the power and limitations of photography as an information source are addressed. The production is greatly enhanced by Derek McLane’s set, David Lander’s lighting and David Bengali’s projection design. Dede Ayite’s costumes do not call attention to themselves. The cast of eight are all strong, with Stahlmann and Kathleen Chalfant standing out. The many strands are intricately knit into a series of short scenes. The result is consistently interesting, but never as gripping as Tectonic’s masterpiece The Laramie Project. Some critics have criticized it – unfairly, in my opinion – for not addressing current events in Gaza. I found it a worthwhile contribution to our understanding of the events of its time. Running time: 90 minutes.

 

Torch Song

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I was worried about seeing Second Stage’s revival of Harvey Fierstein’s award winning play for a  couple of reasons. First, I was afraid that a script that seemed so fresh and daring in 1982 might seem merely tired and dated today. Secondly, I feared that Fierstein's indelible performance in the original might prevent me from appreciating Michael Urie. Fortunately I needn’t have worried on either count. I had forgotten how ahead of his time Fierstein was in his treatment of long-term gay relationships and gay adoption and how forcefully he dealt with the importance of living an authentic life. As to Urie (Buyer and Cellar; The Government Inspector), he has made Arnold Beckoff, the Jewish drag queen from Brooklyn,  his own. It’s a different Arnold from Fierstein’s, but an equally valid one. He knows how to get the laughs without straining for them. It helps that he is supported by an excellent cast: Ward Horton as Ed, the bisexual teacher Arnold has an off-and-on affair with; Roxanna Hope Radja as Laurel, Ed’s long-suffering girlfriend; Michael Rosen (On the Town) as Alan, the young model Arnold takes up with after Ed; Jack DiFalco (Marvin’s Room) as David, the gay teenager Arnold is foster parenting; and Mercedes Ruehl (Lost in Yonkers, Other People’s Money) as Arnold’s mother [a role originated by Estelle Getty]. The first act, “International Stud,” set in 1971, is named after a Village gay bar with a notorious backroom where a key scene takes place. The second act “Fugue in a Nursery,” set three years later, is formally clever but lacks emotional punch. The final act “Widows and Children First,” set in 1980, is the longest and most dramatic. In my opinion, it could use a bit of a trim. The direction by Moises Kaufman has many grace notes throughout. The scenic design by David Zinn captures the period, as do the costumes by Clint Ramos. I was happy to find the play alive and kicking and still able to provide an entertaining evening. Running time: two hours 45 mintues including intermission.

The Heiress **

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If you never saw the film or the revival with Cherry Jones, you might enjoy the current Broadway production of Ruth and August Goetz's adaptation of Henry James's Washington Square. But if you did see either one, you may well be disappointed in this uneven production starring Jessica Chastain, David Strathairn and Dan Stevens, directed by Moises Kaufman. Chastain's take on Catherine Sloper as pathologically shy, yet frisky, in the early scenes is an interesting but questionable choice. Her performance strengthened in the second half. Strathairn, whom I have greatly admired in the past, seemed distracted and bored here. Stevens cut a fine figure and effectively conveyed the ambiguity of his character. The most commanding presence onstage was Judith Ivey as the well-meaning meddling aunt. I could not grasp what Kaufman was aiming for; too often he appeared to be going for easy laughs. There was too much declaiming and too little communicating. The production just didn't seem to cohere. Derek McLane's imposing set and Albert Wolsky's sumptuous costumes were excellent. Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes including intermission.

The Common Pursuit **

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I would be curious to know why director Moises Kaufman, known for his superb work on landmark plays like Gross Indecency, The Laramie Project and I Am My Own Wife, was drawn to one of Simon Gray's lesser plays. In any case, he has no magic tricks up his sleeve for this Roundabout production at the Laura Pels. The oft-told tale of idealistic youth, in this case six students at Cambridge setting out to publish a literary magazine, gradually losing their ideals to compromise and betrayal is not told particularly well. While I have nothing against talky plays as long as the dialog is interesting, little of it sparkles here. The competent American cast (Kristen Bush, Kieran Campion, Josh Cooke, Jacob Fishel, Tim McGeever and Lucas Near-Verbrugghe) manage their Oxbridge accents fairly well but the effort shows, particularly early on. The characters are not portrayed with sufficient vividness for the audience to care very much what happens to them. Perhaps that is why at least 10% of the audience did not return after intermission. By the time the play finally springs to life halfway through the second act, it is too little too late. Derek McLane's set is quite attractive and Clint Ramos' costumes are evocative. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes including intermission.

Standing on Ceremony: The Gay Marriage Plays **

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Over 90 minutes, nine playlets by eight playwrights examine various aspects of marriage equality. The actors read from scripts on music stands. As in any venture of this type, the results are uneven. Most successful are two hilarious works by Paul Rudnick featuring the irrepressible Harriet Harris: in one, she is a member of a dozen anti-same-sex marriage groups who is tormented by gay voices everywhere; in the other, she is a trendy liberal New York mother who is ashamed that her gay son isn't married yet. Richard Thomas is moving in Moises Kaufman's eulogy for a partner of 46 years. Neil LaBute's overlapping monologues for two men, played by Craig Bierko and Mark Sullivan (Mark Consuelos's understudy), is called "Strange Fruit." With that title, you know things won't end happily. The remaining works, by Jordan Harrison, Wendy MacLeod, Doug Wright, Mo Gaffney and Jose Rivera don't fare as well. It's a thankless task for any actress to share a stage with the likes of Ms. Harris, but Polly Draper and Beth Leavel do their best. Behind the actors, Sarah Zeitler fills the Minetta Lane stage with transparent chairs, flower arrangements and an enormous white swag passing through two interlocked rings, dramaticallly lit by Josh Starr. Stuart Ross directed. As I looked around at the audience, it was a clear case of preaching to the choir.

Tennessee Williams' One Arm **

In 1946 Tennessee Williams wrote a short story about an 18-year-old Navy boxing champion who loses an arm in an auto accident, turns to hustling when he can't find a job, and ends up on death row for killing a client in a fit of rage. In the mid-'60s Williams made the story into a screenplay which he periodically tried to get produced, without success. It's not hard to imagine why: an actor may be willing to do many things to get a part, but losing an arm is not one of them. Moises Kaufman has now adapted the screenplay for the stage under the aegis of his Tectonic Theater Project as well as The New Group. Kaufman's previous work has always interested me, so I was curious to see what he would do with One Arm. Claybourne Elder (is that a name worthy of a character on a soap opera or what?) makes Ollie Olsen so striking that it is easy to understand the mesmerizing effect he had on his clients. The matter of the missing arm is cleverly handled by strapping Elder's right arm to his torso so it is not usable. Clearly, this would not work in a movie. The rest of the fine cast (Noah Bean, Todd Lawson, KC Comeaux, Steven Hauck, Christopher McCann, Greg Pierotti and Larisa Polonsky) all play multiple characters. Polonsky is especially good in three very different roles. Derek McLane's stark set and David Lander's harsh lighting convincingly suggest Olson's cell on death row. In a series of flashbacks, we gradually learn how he got there. At play's end there is a coup de theatre that is clever but ultimately pointless. Although I found the adaptation sporadically interesting, I still think Williams - and Kaufman - should have left well enough alone. The short story is a classic and loses rather than gains impact from being blown up into a screenplay or a theater piece.