Thom Pain (based on nothing)

C

It has been 13 years since playwright Will Eno (The Open House, The Realistic Joneses) took New York by storm with this extended monologue that received an ecstatic review from then Times critic Charles Isherwood, who described it as “stand-up existentialism” and dubbed Eno “a Samuel Beckett for the Jon Stewart generation.” The play became a hot ticket, a Pulitzer contender, and the topic of heated arguments at cocktail parties. I was not one of its fans, but could not resist Signature Theatre’s revival because the star Michael C. Hall (The Realistic Joneses, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, “Dexter”) is an actor whose work I have long admired. Knowing more or less what to expect this time around, I could relax and enjoy a fine actor at work without a sense of disappointment at the play’s circularities and teases. The script reminds me of the comic “Peanuts,” with Lucy repeatedly pulling the ball before Charlie Brown can kick it. Thom repeatedly promises the audience something and then abruptly retracts it or begins a story that he never finishes. Clearly in pain, he alternately charms and alienates the audience. Fragments from his life story including a childhood trauma and a failed romance give a few clues as to the reasons for his state of mind. Lodged amidst the self-laceration and passive aggression are some very funny bits. Michael C. Hall has more charm and less menace than I recall from James Urbaniak’s 2005 performance, which takes some edge off the play. I question Signature’s decision to put it on their largest stage, because it needs intimacy to have its full effect. From the third row, I saw nuances that may have been lost several rows back. The set by Amy Rubin (Miles for Mary) turns the stage and large parts of the theater into a construction site, complete with ladders, tarps, a scaffold, and an onstage excavation. The relevance of this concept to the play is questionable at best. For me, it was one more example of what seems to be a trend this season — overloading a play with dubious visual distractions such as the set for Good Grief and the furniture-moving chorus in The Hard Problem. Did director Oliver Butler (The Open House, What the Constitution Means to Me) not trust that the play itself was enough to hold our interest? If the thought of a rambling 65-minute rant does not appeal to you, skip it. If you are a Michael C. Hall fan, you’ll want to catch it.

What the Constitution Means to Me

C+

This work by Heidi Schreck (Grand Concourse, "Nurse Jackie") now in previews at New York Theatre Workshop is hard to categorize. It combines memoir, civics lesson, polemic, debate and Q&A into a piece that is both engaging and frustratingly disjointed. As a teenager, Ms. Schreck earned money for college by entering American Legion contests that involved delivering an essay on one’s personal experience of the constitution combined with an extemporaneous explication of one it its amendments. The early section of the play recreates one such presentation. The contest is interrupted by personal observations that include the history of domestic abuse over several generations in her family and her own experience of the importance of Roe v. Wade. At one point, Mike Iveson (The Sound & the Fury, Gatz), the actor who has been portraying the American Legion official conducting the contest, breaks the fourth wall with some information about his own life. Next we get a debate on whether to abolish the constitution, for which Ms. Schreck’s opponent is Thursday Williams, a 17-year-old high school senior from Queens. (Ms. Williams alternates performances with Rosdely Ciprain, who is just entering high school.) The audience is invited to react enthusiastically to the debaters and one audience member is selected to be the judge. The ushers distribute pocket editions of the constitution. (It’s the second one I’ve received at a theater this summer; they were also handed out at “The Originalist.”) Finally, under dim lighting, Ms. Schreck and Ms. Williams ask each other three questions allegedly submitted by the previous audience. The questions were not very interesting, which made for a very flat ending. Fortunately, Ms. Schreck is a very appealing performer, which made the event more enjoyable than my summary might suggest. Much of it is quite entertaining, as well as educational. Nevertheless, it does ramble rather aimlessly. Its inner logic escaped me. Considering that it has been presented in various incarnations for a decade, I was surprised how unpolished it seemed. Rachel Hauck (Hadestown, Grand Concourse) has recreated an American Legion social hall, complete with wood paneling and about 200 portraits of Legion bigwigs. Michael Kress’s (Hadestown, Noises Off) costumes seemed apt. The house was barely half-full. Director Oliver Butler (The Amateurs, The Open House) has his work cut out for him bringing order to this rather chaotic event before opening night. Running time: 90 minutes; no intermission.

The Amateurs

C

With the success of Marjorie Prime, expectations for playwright Jordan Harrison’s new play at the Vineyard Theatre were high. After his Pulitzer-nominated play set in the near future, Harrison has shifted his focus to 14th-century Europe during The Black Death. We follow a traveling theatrical group working on their new production of the mystery play “Noah’s Flood,” which they hope will win the approval of the local duke and, thereby, a safe refuge from the plague. We meet Larking (Thomas Jay Ryan; The Crucible. 10 out of 12), the pompous leader of the troupe who, of course, plays God. Roma (Jennifer Kim; Gloria), perhaps the most unpleasant person in the troupe, is pregnant. Hollis (Quincy Tyler Bernstine; Grand Concourse, Ruined), who is mourning the recent death of her brother, occasionally gets so wrapped up in speculating about the motivation for her lines that she goes blank onstage. The quiet Brom (Kyle Bertran; Head of Passes, Fortress of Solitude) is riddled with guilt over a secret relationship. Gregory (Michael Cyril Creighton; Stage Kiss), the troupe’s all-around handyman, is deemed by Larking too simple and too unattractive to appear onstage. A mysterious stranger The Physic (Greg Keller; Animal, Belleville) joins the troupe. About midway through the play, the author breaks the fourth wall: Creighton reappears as a character representing the playwright to discuss the origins of the play in his own experience of a more recent plague, to speculate about the emergence of the concept of the individual and to question the proper role of art in society. After this extended interlude, the play proper resumes. Maybe I am old-fashioned, but I feel the playwright should show us in the play what his intent is, rather than interrupt the play to tell us about it. The uniformly fine cast deserves better than this. David Zinn’s (Fun Home, The Humans) scenic design with its theater on wheels is a delight. Jessica Pabst’s (Can You Forgive Her?, Marjorie Prime) period costumes are excellent. Oliver Butler’s (The Light Years, The Open House) direction is unfussy. Even though the playwright’s attempt to do something different misfires, it fails interestingly. I look forward to seeing what he will try next. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

The Light Years

D+

Somewhere in the Playwrights Horizons program notes, it says that The Debate Society (Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen, writers; Oliver Butler, developer and director) have been working on this piece for seven years. I wish the results of all their time and effort had produced a more satisfying result. This tale of thwarted aspirations loosely ties together two family stories linked to the Chicago world’s fairs of 1893 and 1933. One of the plots involves a real person, Steele MacKaye, a flamboyant actor, playwright, producer and inventor of such theater innovations as folding seats and fireproof curtains. In 1893 MacKaye (Rocco Sisto) had grandiose plans to build the Spectatorium, a 12,000-seat theater filled with the latest in theatrical technology, to house an epic panorama about Columbus. Master electrician Hillary (Erik Lochtefeld) and his loyal assistant Hong Sling (Brian Lee Huynh) are working on the “mooncart,” a large contraption with hundreds of light bulbs that will provide the celestial climax of the Spectatorium show. He even brings it home so he can work on it at night. Hillary’s lively, attractive wife Adeline (Aya Cash) displays a keen interest in her husband’s work. The Panic of 1893 leads MacKaye’s investors to abandon him and the Spectatorium is never completed. The second story introduces us to Lou (Ken Barnett), an unsuccessful jingle writer who hopes to find work at the 1933 fair. His wife Ruth (Aya Cash again) struggles to keep the family from starving by working long shifts at a pancake house at the fair. Their 11-year-old son Charlie (Graydon Peter Yosowitz) has his heart set on a stamp commemorating the Graf zeppelin. Out of desperation, Lou reluctantly seeks employment as a musician in a night club. The apartment Lou and family have rented is in the home formerly occupied by Hillary and Adeline. Their landlord is a mysterious figure who lives in the attic. In the play’s most implausible premise, the unfinished mooncart still sits in the living room. Things do not end happily for either family. The alternation of scenes between the two time periods is not really confusing, but produces a repeated loss of focus. Just as the aspirations of almost everyone in the play are not achieved, neither are the aspirations of the play’s creators. Despite the fine acting, impressive set design by Laura Jellinek, great period costumes by Michael Krass and an amazing lighting design by Russell H. Champa, the play fizzles rather than sizzles. I would have preferred a play about the fascinating life of Steele MacKaye. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

Seating alert: During a few short scenes, the actors are in the wide aisle between rows D and E. If your seat is in rows A through D, be prepared to twist around in your seat to see the action.

The Open House ***

Another day, another play about a dysfunctional family. Since my two previous experiences with Will Eno's work were negative -- I hated "Thom Pain (based on nothing)" and was bored with "Middletown" -- I planned to skip his new play at Signature Theatre until a respected friend persuaded me it to see it. I won't go so far as to say that the third time was a charm, but I did find this droll absurdist comedy by far the most entertaining of the three. The unnamed family consists of the tyrannical Father (Peter Friedman), confined to a wheelchair by a stroke, Mother (Carolyn McCormick), a shell of a woman after years of living with a verbally abusive husband, Uncle (Michael Countryman), Father's sad sack widowed brother, and Son (Danny McCarthy) and Daughter (Hannah Bos), the two adult children who have returned home for their parents' anniversary. Father's vicious tongue is a deadly weapon, ready to wound anyone who dares to engage him. Even the family dog has fled. Unbeknownst to his family, Father has decided to sell the house. The high concept is that each of the five characters we meet leaves the house and is replaced by a new character played by the same actor. Before play's end, the stage is occupied by a much happier bunch -- a real estate agent, a painter-landscaper, a couple who might buy the house and their attorney. It's a clever stunt, but I refuse to glean any deep metaphysical thoughts from it. The cast is excellent (especially Friedman), the living room set by Antje Ellermann is picture perfect, Bobby Frederick Tilley II's costumes are fine and Oliver Butler's direction is smooth. I liked it enough that I bought a ticket for Eno's upcoming Broadway debut "The Realistic Joneses." Running time: 75 minutes, no intermission.