The House That Will Not Stand

C+

After runs in Berkeley, New Haven, Chicago and London, this play by Marcus Gardley (“The Chi”) has arrived at New York Theatre Workshop. The playwright set himself an ambitious challenge, taking characters and situations from Garcia Lorca’s The House of Bernarda Alba and overlaying them with a story about the status of black women in New Orleans shortly after the Louisiana Purchase. Once again there is a house of women in mourning with a fierce mother ruling over frustrated daughters —Agnès (Nedra McClyde; Marvin’s Room), Odette (Joniece Abbott-Pratt; u/s Eclipsed) and Maude Lynn (Juliana Canfield; “Succession”)— with an iron hand. There is someone hidden away in the attic, this time the mother’s possibly mad sister, Marie Josephine (Michelle Wilson; Sweat). And there is rivalry among the daughters over a man. The corpse lying surrounded by flowers in the parlor is the father of the three daughters, but not the husband of their mother Beartrice (Lynda Gravatt; Skeleton Crew). He is Lazare Albans, a married wealthy white man whose long-term common-law relationship with Beartrice made her the wealthiest free woman of color in New Orleans, with a fine house to show for it. The institution that permitted such interracial relationships, called plaçage, had been common throughout the French and Spanish Caribbean, but was now threatened by United States laws. Makeda (Harriet D. Foy; Amelie), the house servant who looks after mother and daughters, is a slave who has been promised her freedom upon her master’s demise. We also meet La Veuve (Marie Thomas; Don’t Bother Me I Can’t Cope), a neighbor with a longtime grudge against Beartrice. Two of the daughters want to attend the masked ball where quadroons and prospective white beaus meet and arrange relationships, but Beartrice is unalterably opposed as she considers plaçage little better than slavery, especially under new US laws. She is also confronted with a threat to retaining her house and her social position. Melodrama ensues. The play is stuffed, perhaps overstuffed, with issues — racism, skin colorism, class consciousness, empowering women, slavery, voodoo, ghosts, insanity, honoring African roots. It’s a lot to juggle and the playwright occasionally missteps. The dialogue is sometimes comic, sometimes poetic. The quality of the acting is frustratingly uneven. Ms. Foy gives an electric performance as Makeda. The usually reliable Ms. Gravatt repeatedly stumbled over her lines. Ms. Thomas is wickedly funny. The actresses playing the daughters and the aunt imbue each with individuality. Adam Rigg’s (Actually) set design of an elegant southern home with tall shuttered windows and crystal chandeliers is quite attractive, as are the period costumes by Montana Levi Blanco (Fairview, Red Speedo). Lileana Blain-Cruz’s (Pipeline, War) direction shows a comfortable grip on the material. While I found it sporadically involving, I left somewhat baffled and disappointed. The reaction from most of the audience was extremely enthusiastic. Running time: two hours ten minutes including intermission.

Marvin's Room

B-

I do not mean to denigrate Scott McPherson’s award-winning play when I say that a significant reason for the acclaim it received in the early 1990’s was because it was seen as a metaphor for the AIDS crisis. The playwright made this connection explicit in a program note for the 1990 Hartford production. The tragic death of both McPherson and his lover, at the age of 33, drew still more attention to the play. While the scourge of AIDS is far from over, it is no longer the death sentence it was then and the crisis has mostly receded from public view. When I learned that Roundabout Theatre was reviving the play and giving it a Broadway debut, I was very curious to see how well it would stand up unsupported by the context of the early 90’s. The answer, for me at least, is pretty well. Roundabout has assembled a strong cast. Lili Taylor (The Library) is quietly powerful as Bessie, the sister who pulled up her roots in Ohio two decades prior to move to Florida to care for her father Marvin, whose ailments include cancer, multiple strokes and diabetes. Marvin (Carman Lacivita) is visible only as a sihouette, but his cries and gurgles are occasionally heard. The household also includes her dotty Aunt Ruth (a fine Celia Weston) who has recently had wires implanted in her brain to control debilitating back pain. A running gag is that her device opens the garage door whenever she uses it. A crisis develops when Bessie is diagnosed with leukemia by inept Dr. Wally (Triney Sandoval; Important Hats of the Twentieth Century), whose shtick is almost vaudevillian. When a bone marrow transplant is deemed her best option, she contacts her long-estranged sister Lee (a terrific Janeane Garololo [Russian Transport] in her Broadway debut) who, when their father had his first stroke, made the decision not to let his problems interfere with her life. We first meet her conferring with Dr. Charlotte (Nedra McClyde; A Life), the psychiatrist at the youth facility where her sullen 17-year-old son Hank (Jack DiFalco) has been confined for setting fire to the family home. Hank’s younger brother Charlie (Luca Padovan) loves to read but does poorly in school. Lee and her two sons travel to Florida to be tested as possible matches for Bessie. Except for a farcical scene between the sisters and the director of a retirement home (also McClyde), the second act lacks the absurdist humor of the first. Even a visit to Disney World turns somber. The ending, while hardly happy, is somewhat comforting. To quote McPherson’s program note, “At times, even an unbelievably harsh fate is transcended by a simple act of love, by caring for another.” While Roundabout should be praised for bringing this play to a new generation, I wish they had chosen to mount it in one of their smaller venues. It’s an intimate story that seems a bit lost in the vastness of the American Airlines Theatre. The casting is strong. Taylor and Garofolo are plausible as sisters. Jack DiFalco, while promising,  needs to work harder to project his voice; during a critical scene, only half of what he said was audible from the fourth row. Laura Jellinek’s (The Antipodes, A Life) set has a long curving back wall of decorative concrete blocks on which green palms are very faintly projected to suggest Florida. Glass block is used for a partition that revolves with part of the set as well as for the window of Marvin’s room. A gigantic revolving carousel roof descends and an enormous figure of Captain Hook appears for the Disney World scene. A much simpler set would have served the play better. Jessica Pabst’s (Cost of Living) costumes are unobtrusive, except for one humorously spangly number for Ruth. Anne Kauffman’s (A Life, Marjorie Prime) direction captures both the play's absurdity and its compassion. Seeing the play again was a reminder of how tragic it was to lose a promising young playwright who might have had an important place in American theater. Running time: 2 hours 20 minutes including intermission.

A Life *** B+

Adam Bock’s bold new play at Playwrights Horizons defied my expectations. Even the scenic design turned out to be surprising. The problem for a reviewer is that it is difficult to say much about the production without spoiling the experience. David Hyde Pierce plays Nate Martin, a middle-aged gay man living in Manhattan. The latest in a long series of lovers has left him a month before the play begins. In the past, Nate has turned to astrology for guidance. His supportive best friend Curtis (Brad Heberlee) and he enjoy ogling hot men in Central Park. We also meet Nate’s sister Lori (Lynne McCollough) and two other women, Jocelyn (Marinda Anderson) and Allison (Nedra McClyde). About halfway through the play, events take a most unexpected turn. There is a long scene virtually without dialogue that tests the audience’s mettle. The remainder of the play follows the likely consequences of that scene. It is bracing in its conception, but likely to be disturbing for single people living alone in New York. Pierce does well in a challenging role (even though he seemed a bit old for the part). Heberlee is quite strong and the three women are all fine. Laura Jellinek finds an ingenious solution to presenting three different locations. Jessica Pabst costumed each character suitably. Director Anne Kauffman has wisely chosen to let the play breathe without rushing through difficult moments. Even though I found it unnerving, I was glad to experience it. Running time: 80 minutes, no intermission.

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.