Selling Kabul

B+

In her timely, gripping new drama at Playwrights Horizons, Sylvia Khoury (Power Strip) demonstrates great skill in building and maintaining enough tension to keep you on the edge of your seat for much of the play. She further shows a remarkable ability to capture the workings of an entire society by focusing tightly on the life of one family. It is 2013 and the U.S. is drastically reducing its forces in Afghanistan, allowing the Taliban to strengthen their grip on Kabul. They are determined to find and punish all Afghanis who aided the U.S. including those who worked as translators such as our protagonist Taroon (Dario Ladani Sanchez). We meet him after he has been in hiding in the apartment of his sister Afiya (Marian Neshat; Queens) for over four months awaiting the U.S. visa that he had been promised. Interestingly he is portrayed as reckless, selfish and shortsighted rather than as a sympathetic hero. His wife is giving birth to their first child, but it is not safe for him to visit the hospital. In an ironic twist, Afiya’s husband Jawid (Mattico David; Noura) runs a shop making uniforms for the Taliban and she assists by sewing some of them at home. Afiya has been avoiding all social contacts including her neighbor Leyla (Francis Benhamou; The Profane) and her 5-month-old baby to prevent anyone from discovering Taroon. A surprise visit from Leyla is cause for severe tension. The situation only becomes more tense when it is confirmed that the Taliban are definitely seeking Taroon and he must try to leave the country immediately. Decisions are made that test each character’s ethics and lead to momentous consequences. Some of the acting is superb, particularly Ms. Neshat and Mr. David. The set by Arnulfo Maldonado (A Strange Loop) and costumes by Montana Levi Blanco (A Strange Loop) are convincingly realistic and the direction by Tyne Rafaeli (Power Strip) is smooth. With so much going for it, you may wonder why I don’t praise the play more effusively. One reason is that Mr. Sanchez’s portrayal of Taroon leaves much to be desired; he does not have the range to match the character’s development over the course of the play. The other reason is that there are a couple of giant holes in the plot; you will probably be too caught up in the action to notice them while you are watching the play, but they are likely to bother you later. Despite these problems, the play is well worth seeing. I do wish that they had not found it necessary to bookend the play by assaulting the audience with the deafening sound of a helicopter. Running time: 100 minutes, no intermission.

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.

Heroes of the Fourth Turning

C-

Before you look it up, The Fourth Turning is the title of a book about historical cycles much admired by Steve Bannon. The four Catholic conservatives at the center of Will Arbery’s (Plano) new drama at Playwrights Horizons hope to play a leading role during the coming era. They are gathered in Wyoming to celebrate the inauguration of a beloved professor as president of their alma mater. I looked forward to gaining some insight into the conservative mind, but I left mostly disappointed. The protagonists are a motley crew; not one of them is someone I would want to have a beer with. Justin (Jeb Kreager; Oslo), who is about ten years older than his former classmates, was married and in the military; he is teaching at the college but is having doubts about his present life. Kevin (John Zdrojeski; Before We’re Gone) is a feckless underachiever given to self-pity over not having a girlfriend and, when we meet him, very drunk. Teresa (Zoe Winters; White Noise) is a hard-edged assertive Bannonite who works in media in New York. Emily (Julia McDermott), enfeebled by a mysterious illness, is the daughter of Gina (Michelle Pawk; Hollywood Arms), the new college president. When Gina puts in an appearance to greet her former students, she does not give them the pat on the back they crave. In a post-performance talkback, the playwright revealed that, as I suspected, the characters are based on actual people. Unfortunately, he does not present them in a way that makes them easy to care about or to explain the origins of their points of view. 

The play manages to violate three of my theater commandments:

1. Thou shalt not shine bright lights in the audience’s eyes. Rather have a scrim over the stage, the production prevents you from seeing the stage beforehand by dazzling you with very bright lights. If you have a seat near the front, I advise you be seated as close to curtain time as possible so you won’t be assaulted by the lights.

2. Thou shalt not startle the audience with sudden, very loud noises. Three times we are blasted by a horrendous sound, the source of which is never revealed.

     3.  Thou shalt not run for more than two hours without an intermission. 

I might have been more willing to forgive these sins against the audience if the play had been more enlightening. 

Laura Jellinek’s (The Treasurer) set is so dimly lit that it is hard to make out. The costumes by Sarafina Bush; Pass Over) are apt. Director Danya Taymor (“Daddy,” Familiar) does not succeed in turning dross to gold.

Running time: two hours, ten minutes; no intermission.

. 

The Pain of My Belligerence

B-

Halley Feiffer’s semi-autobiographical new play is perplexing for many reasons starting with its title and the tick-hugging woman in the artwork for its advertisements. Upon arriving at Playwrights Horizons, you are told that the programs will not be distributed until after the play. (In retrospect, this is a good idea because the play would lose some impact if you knew too much in advance.) Upon entering the theater, you are greeted by ominous insect buzzing. The long opening scene depicts the memorable first date between Cat (Feiffer), a budding late-20’s journalist and Guy (Hamish Linklater; The Busy World Is Hushed, Seminar), the arrogant, privileged, charming, sexy man who designed the restaurant where they are dining on Election Day 2012. Guy is the business partner and husband of Yuki and father of a young daugther, Anzu. The scene is outrageously funny with lots of physical humor and shaggy-dog stories in which the interruptions have interruptions. And so begins their toxic relationship. We next see them exactly four years later when the unwell Cat is lying in bed watching the 2016 election returns. We learn that Guy now has a second daughter, Olive, and that all is not going smoothly for the adulterous couple. Cat’s illness does not prevent them from indulging in some athletic sex. The final scene is set on Election Day 2020. I will say no more about it; don’t read the spoilers below if you want to be surprised. The two leads are terrific. As an actress, Feiffer (The Front Page, The House of Blue Leaves) is absolutely fearless. As a playwright (I'm Gonna Pray for You So Hard, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Gynecological Oncology Unit at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center of New York City), she is adept at creating characters with oversized emotions. It is a treat to see Linklater cast in a role so different from his usual stage persona. The production is greatly enhanced by Mark Wendland’s (Significant Other, Next to Normal)  elegantly simple set made primarily of wood slats. Paloma Young’s (Bandstand, Lobby Hero) costumes are apt. Director Trip Cullman (Lobby Hero, The Mother) allows the actors to dig deeply into their roles. Spoilers ahead. In the final scene, we meet Yuki  (a fine Vanessa Kai; KPOP) and Olive (Keira Belle Young) and learn that all has not been quite as it seemed. The attempt to tie the nature of Cat and Guy’s relationship to a malign patriarchy through the Election Day settings did not work for me. Cat’s physical decline, which touches on Feiffer’s own experience, provides a visible correlate of the relationship itself. It doesn’t add up to anything neat and simple, but it offers many absorbing moments along the way. While I remain perplexed, I was also entertained and glad to have had the chance to see two fine actors doing excellent work in an unconventional piece. Running time: 85 minutes; no intermission.

Noura

C

The program at Playwrights Horizons indicates that Heather Raffo’s (9 Parts of Desire) play about five Iraqi immigrants in New York was inspired by Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. My advice is to forget that fact because the connections between the two plays are tenuous at best. The titular character, performed by the playwright , is a woman approaching 40, an architect back in Mosul, who was uprooted with her husband and son eight years ago by ISIS. As a fair-skinned Christian, she had relatively little difficulty emigrating to the U.S. Her husband Tareq, now known as Tim (Nabil Elouahabi), was a surgeon back in Iraq but had to work in a fast-food restaurant when they arrived in New York. Their highly assimilated son Yazen, now Alex (Liam Campora; Marvin's Room), is mostly interested in video games. Rafa’a (Matthew David; Glamping), a Muslim obstetrician who emigrated several years before them, has been a friend of Noura’s since childhood and is a frequent visitor. As she prepares to celebrate their first Christmas as U.S. citizens, Noura is excited by the prospect of finally meeting Maryam (Dahlia Azama; Veil'd), a 26-year old orphan rescued from a convent bombed by ISIS, whom Noura has been sponsoring. Christmas dinner does not go well. Maryam is definitely not the deferential young woman Noura was expecting. She has already made an important life choice that her hosts find unacceptable and resents the mold they are trying to force her into. The play’s most grounded character, the likable Rafa’a, reveals a secret that he has kept hidden for many years. Tareq confesses to feelings about his wife that he has never admitted to her. Finally, Noura reveals her own shattering secret, one she has hidden for over a quarter century. There are many important issues raised by the play — the difficulties faced by immigrants, conflicting feelings about honoring a past that is forever gone while adjusting to a new life, dealing with nightmare memories of war. finding a balance between community and individualism, and facing the corrosive effects of tribalism, both in Iraq and in the U.S. Some of these are better worked into the fabric of the play than others. I am sorry that the author felt the need to add some melodrama to the mix. I was also troubled by the 180-degree personality change by one of the characters. The actors are good, especially Mr. David. Andrew Lieberman’s (The Glass Menagerie) set, while quite attractive, made little sense to me. Would a woman who can’t muster the commitment to buy a sofa install a massive brick room divider in her apartment? Tilly Grimes’s (The Thanksgiving Play) costumes suit each character well. Joanna Settle’s (9 Parts of Desire) direction is unobtrusive except that I was puzzled by scenes when Noura steps outside for an illicit smoke and we very faintly hear her thoughts. It is a play that, for me at least, did not live up to its ambitions. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

The Thanksgiving Play

C+

If the thought of a Saturday Night Live sketch that lasts almost an hour and a half appeals to you, you will enjoy this new play by Larissa FastHorse now at Playwrights Horizons. Logan (Jennnifer Bareilles; The Studio System), a neurotic drama teacher already in trouble with parents over her last production, The Iceman Cometh with 15-year old actors, has cobbled together enough grant money from organizations promoting noble causes to produce and direct a 45-minute play for an elementary school audience, celebrating Native American Heritage Month. The three actors she has recruited to “devise” the play are Jaxton (Greg Keller; The Amateurs, Belleville), her slacker street-performer boyfriend; Caden (Jeffrey Bean; Bells Are Ringing), a nerdy elementary teacher with a passion for historically accurate playwriting; and Alicia (Margo Seibert; Rocky), a sexy but not very bright Hollywood starlet, hired under the mistaken impression that she is Native American. Before the play opens and at a few points during, the actors perform delightfully awful Thanksgiving songs and short skits suggested as appropriate for young audiences. The bulk of the play portrays their first and possibly only rehearsal, a virtual playbook of political correctness among the “woke” that leads to increasingly absurd situations as they tie themselves in knots trying to avoid offending anyone. The characters may be stereotypes but they are marvelously realized by the four actors. The satire is about as subtle as a sledgehammer, but there are some hilarious moments. A few theatrical “in” jokes are very funny. What disappointed me was that I thought a Native American playwright would offer some original insights on our November holiday that I didn’t find. I felt that the play might just as easily have been the work of a team of privileged white SNL writers. Even though I am a fan of broad satire, the play ran too long to sustain my interest. The set by Wilson Chin (Cost of Living, The Jammer) accurately recreates a high school drama classroom. The costumes by Tilly Grimes (The Government Inspector) are spot-on. Despite the best efforts of director Moritz von Stuelpnagel (Hand to God, Bernhardt/Hamlet), the play loses energy before it’s over. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

Log Cabin

B-

Jordan Harrison’s (Marjorie Prime; The Amateurs) new comedy of manners at Playwrights Horizons is quite entertaining, but not all that coherent. The title, which led me to expect a play about LGBT Republicans, is misleading. While the two privileged couples, one lesbian and the other gay, at the center of the play may have become too comfortable with their recently won gains, I doubt that any of them is a card-carrying Log Cabin member. When we first meet them, the acerbic Jules, as in Julia, (Dolly Wells; The Whirligig) and the laconic Pam (Cindy Cheung; Iowa, Middletown) are entertaining their gay friends, the wise-cracking, overbearing Ezra (Jesse Tyler Ferguson; On the Town, Fully Committed), who is never without a quip, and his African-American husband Chris (Phillip James Brannon; Bootycandy, The City of Conversation). Jules and Pam decide to have a child. Chris wants one, but Ezra does not. A year after their son Hartley is born, the lesbians are once again entertaining in their spacious Brooklyn brownstone apartment. The two couples are joined by Ezra’s old friend Henry f/k/a Helen (Ian Harvie (“Transparent”), who 20 years before was Ezra's prom date, and Henry’s young hippy-dippy girlfriend Myna (Talene Monahon; Bobbie Clearly), who prefers dating trans men. After a few mojitos, the fractures among those present rise to the surface. Henry is upset that privileged LGBT people can be hurtful to marginalized trans people. As a black man, Chris argues that he often feels marginalized. Myna is appalled at everyone’s materialism. A conversation overheard on Hartley’s baby monitor fans the flames. We rejoin the group on Hartley’s birthday party over the next few years. The plot takes a turn that I found totally preposterous which I will not spoil for you. Nor will I say more about an amusing surrealist development that comes as a delightful surprise. While some of the many issues touched upon are specific to LGBT people, others — the difficulty of maintaining long-term relationships, adjusting to parenthood, being accepting of differences — are universal. The entire cast is very good. While I always enjoy seeing Jesse Tyler Ferguson, I would like to see him in a role that is not so completely within his comfort zone; I fear he is becoming stereotyped. The set by Allen Moyer (Grey Gardens, The Lyons) is a revolving wonder. Jessica Pabst’s (The Profane, Marvin’s Room) costumes are just right for each character. Pam MacKinnon (Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Clybourne Park) directs with her usual assurance. I enjoyed the play, but I felt it skimmed the surface of too many topics without going very deeply into any of them. Running time: one hour 35 minutes; no intermission.

This Flat Earth

C+

Ever since I saw Milk Like Sugar in 2011, I have found almost every play that Tony-winner Rebecca Taichman has directed in New York, including Stage Kiss, The Oldest Boy, Familiar, Indecent, How To Transcend a Happy Marriage, Time and the Conways, and School Girls to be a worthwhile experience. Furthermore, the two plays by Lindsey Ferrentino that I had seen — Ugly Lies the Bone and Amy (or Andy) and the Orphans — showed great promise. Therefore, I approached this timely play, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, with high expectations. I was disappointed. From the very first moment, I didn’t buy into it. Julie (Ella Kennedy Davis) is a 12-year-old with symptoms of PTSD after surviving a shooting at her school. Even for someone who can’t afford a cellphone, she seems remarkably naive and uninformed. Would someone her age really believe that she could save her allowance for a trip to Japan to get a boob job or be shocked to learn that there had been other school shootings? Her mother died in childbirth, so she has been raised by her good-natured but feckless father Dan (Lucas Papaelias; Once), a failed comedian forced to take a low-paying job at the water works. Her shy best friend Zander (Ian Saint-Germain) really wants to be her boyfriend. Their upstairs neighbor Cloris (Lynda Gravatt; Skeleton Crew, King Hedley II) is a retired cellist who likes to play LPs of the classical music she can no longer perform. That music is played by an offstage cellist (Christine H. Kim). Lisa (Cassie Beck; The Humans, The Whale), the grieving mother of a murdered girl, is trying to find a way to get on with her life. The fact that Dan has bought his daughter clothes that Lisa has donated to Goodwill illustrates the difference in the economic situation of the two families. To give Julie a chance at a better education, Dan has bent the rules. When Lisa inadvertently discovers his misstep, there is a crisis. Julie must face the reality that adults are not really able to fix everything. She bonds with Cloris, who has a long poetic monologue predicting Julie’s future. The topics of gun violence and income inequality could hardly be more relevant and the idea that music has the power to comfort is appealing. Somehow, it just did not come together for me. The level of acting varies, with Cassie Beck and Lynda Gravatt standing out. Dane Laffrey’s (Rancho Viejo, The Christians) awkward two-level set is deliberately sparsely furnished. Paloma Young’s (Time and the Conways, Lobby Hero) costumes are apt. Rebecca Taichman’s direction hits all the right notes, but the play itself needs a tuning. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Miles for Mary

B

This is the first offering in a new initiative by Playwrights Horizons — the Redux Series, which will remount well-received off-off-Broadway plays deemed worthy of a larger audience. The Mad Ones, a five-person New York company “dedicated to creating visceral, ensemble-driven, highly detailed theatrical experiences that examine and illuminate American nostalgia,” premiered this work in 2016 at the Bushwick Starr. The play is set in the phys ed faculty’s office of Garrison High School in Garrison, Ohio from 1988 to 1989. Five faculty members, including three coaches, the AV guy and the AP English teacher, are gathered to begin planning the ninth annual Miles for Mary telethon to raise money for scholarships. A sixth committee member, absent for unspecified reasons, joins the proceedings via a balky speakerphone. The telethon is a memorial to a talented student athlete who was killed in an auto accident. The play basically consists of moments from this committee’s meetings over the course of a year. Along the way, we learn bits and pieces about the teachers and their relationships. The meetings are a hilarious case study in group dynamics run amok. Psychobabble is the lingua franca. Techniques that might serve teachers well in the classroom are not so successful when applied to each other. After a long, slow buildup, one of the teachers has a spectacular meltdown. There is much to enjoy here. The writing by Marc Bovino, Joe Curnutte, Michael Dalto, Lila Neugebauer (dir. The Wolves, The Antipodes) and Stephanie Wright Thompson, in collaboration with Sarah Lunnie and the creative ensemble of Amy Staats and Stacey Yen, negotiates a delicate balance between realism and satire. The ensemble (all the above minus director Neugebauer and dramaturg Lunnie) is flawless. The scenic design by Amy Rubin (All the Fine Boys) and the costumes by Asta Bennie Hostetter (Men on Boats, Fulfillment Center) recreate the look of the period down to the smallest detail. It’s all well-observed and often amusing, but becomes repetitive after a while. “Do More” may be the committee’s motto, but no one is quite sure what “more” means. As one teacher observes, sometimes less is more. Running time: one hour 55 minutes; no intermission.

Mankind

D

If only I had left Robert O’Hara’s new play at Playwrights Horizons at intermission, I would have had a pleasant but abbreviated evening. Until that point, the satire had remained relatively sharp and focused and there was a sense that the play had reached its logical conclusion. Unfortunately, after a mood-breaking fifteen minutes, the play resumed and ran steadily downhill for another 45 minutes. O’Hara’s initial premise of an oppressive society where women have become extinct and men have developed the ability to bear children is a promising one. In a nice twist, abortion is still illegal, so when sex buddies Mark (Anson Mount) and Jason (Bobby Moreno; Grand Concourse, Fulfillment Center) seek one after Jason’s surprise pregnancy, they are arrested for attempted murder. When Jason gives birth to the first female born in a century, he and Mark unwittingly become founders of a new feminist religion with rituals highly reminiscent of Roman Catholicism. O’Hara takes potshots at patriarchy, talk shows, materialism, climate change, organized religion, feminism and the innate intolerance of mankind. I wish his inventiveness were coupled with more discipline. The satire generates surprisingly few laughs and rapidly becomes tedious. Four other actors — David Ryan Smith, Ariel Shafir, Stephen Schnetzer (Oslo) and scene-stealer Andre de Shields (The Wiz, The Full Monty) — play multiple roles. Clint Ramos (Bella, Familiar) has designed an overcomplicated set with a revolving platform and modules that are pushed this way and that. Dede M. Ayite’s (School Girls, The Royale) ecclesiastical garb is funnier than most of the dialog. Once again, O’Hara demonstrates why playwrights (with rare exceptions) should not direct their own work. “Barbecue,” with another director, was considerably more rewarding than either “Bootycandy” or this play. It was a frustrating evening of missed opportunities. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.

Bella: An American Tall Tale

C+

What are the odds that two shows about 19th-century black women with large derrieres would arrive on Theatre Row within a month of each other? And yet the revival of Suzan-Lori Parks’s Venus at Signature Theatre has just been followed by the New York premiere of Kirsten Childs’s musical at Playwrights Horizons. I skipped Venus, because the prospect of watching an innocent woman being exploited and forced to appear in a freak show sounded too depressing. Although Childs’s work also includes a segment when the title character becomes a circus attraction, the prevailing spirit is far from depressing. Bella (Ashley D. Kelley) is a naive girl from Tupelo, Mississippi with a rich fantasy life who is forced to leave town after injuring a rich white man who was trying to rape her. She heads by train toward New Mexico, where her boyfriend Aloysius (Britton Smith) is a Buffalo Soldier. On the train she is looked after by a protective porter (Brandon Gill). After a fanciful adventure I will not describe, she ends up as a circus attraction who becomes a big star in Europe but, a la Josephine Baker, was scorned when she returned to America. There are many other characters: Ida Lou (Marinda Anderson, a black widow heading to Kansas where she thinks life will be safer; Miss Cabbagestalk (Kenita R. Miller), an old maid on her way to likely servitude as the mail-order bride of a widower with six children; a kindly couple, an inept gang of robbers, Bella’s mother (Miller again) and Aunt Dinah (Anderson again) and the grandmother (Natasha Yvette Williams) who is succumbing to dementia. Finally, there is the Spirit of the Booty (Williams again), whom you must see to believe. The cast of twelve are all talented, with Kelley and Miller the standouts. The production is lavish: Clint Ramos’s set has a Western-themed proscenium with a red velvet curtain. a painted scrim, a stage within a stage that moves back and forth and a revolving platform. [Was there a sale on stage turntables this spring? This is the fifth play I have seen recently with a revolving stage.] Dede M. Ayite’s costumes are inspired. Camille A. Brown’s lively choreography adds a lot to the production. Robert O'Hara (Bootycandy) directed. Childs’s music mixes many styles and occasionally seems derivative: there is a song near the end that sounds very similar to the disco anthem “I Will Survive.” A hilarious number in the second act called “White People Tonight” got a big reaction. It all goes down easy, but seems muddled and overstuffed. It has already shed 20 minutes in previews but could profitably lose a few more, preferably in the first act. Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes including intermission.

Aubergine *** B

Julia Cho’s new play at Playwrights Horizons is a flawed, uneven work, but it packs an emotional wallop. Ray (Tim Kang), an assimilated Korean-American chef, moves in with his estranged father (Stephen Park) to care for him during his final days. Ray’s former girlfriend Cornelia (Sue Jean Kim) forgives him and pitches in to help. Lucien (Michael Potts), a refugee from a war-torn African country, is the kindly, helpful home hospice nurse. Ray’s uncle (Joseph Steven Yang) flies in from Korea as soon as hears about his brother’s condition. Diane (Jessica Love) is a wealthy foodie who appears in the opening and final scenes (and, in my humble opinion, should be excised). A common thread that stitches the play together is the important role of food in our memories and family relationships. Each character gets a food-centered monologue. Some of the dialog is in Korean with translations projected on the rear wall. There are many engaging moments, but they don’t fit together all that well. Some trimming would improve the play, especially dropping the facile ending. Derek McLane’s high-concept scenic design is dominated by a huge semicircular wooden wall that looks like the side of a huge vat. It parts and swings away to reveal a semicircular interior with partial concentric rings. The circle of life, perhaps? Jennifer Moeller’s costumes are appropriate to each character. Kate Whoriskey’s direction is a bit sluggish at times. Don’t see it when you are hungry. You also might want to avoid it you have recently faced or are about to face the loss of a loved one. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes including intermission.

Men on Boats ** C-

The Playwrights Horizons revival of last summer’s Clubbed Thumb hit production has received almost unanimous critical acclaim. The Times made it a Critic’s Pick and it has been extended by popular demand. Playwright Jaclyn Backhaus's subject is the famed Powell expedition of 1869, during which 10 intrepid men in four small boats set out to traverse the Green and Colorado Rivers from Wyoming to Nevada and become the first white men to travel the length of the Grand Canyon. The top-notch cast, ably directed by Will Davis, recreates the rhythms of daily life, the rivalries, the insecurities, the dangers and defections the group endured. The perils of sailing through white water is memorably captured by effective choreography. The play’s gimmick is that all the roles are played by women. Its sensibility is archly contemporary, rather than historical. For the first twenty minutes or so, this worked for me. However, the play soon became repetitive and cartoonish. It eventually seemed like a very long pointless skit that trivialized its subject and wore out its welcome long before it ended. I will grant that the cast was uniformly good, the scenic design by Arnulfo Maldonado was attractive and the costumes by Asta Bennie Hostetter were apt. The audience seemed to love it; the young woman next to me broke into uproarious laughter at least once a minute. I wish I had been able to join in the approbation. Perhaps I would have been less disappointed if my expectations had not been raised so high by all the praise. Running time: 95 minutes, no intermission.

Antlia Pneumatica **

After three previous disappointments (Mr. Burns, Ipheginia in Aulis at CSC and 10 out of 12) I did not have high hopes for Anne Washburn’s new play now at Playwrights Horizons. Alas, my low expectations were met. This reunion of 40-somethings to bury a college friend is only superficially similar to “The Big Chill.” It has a major gimmick and a few minor ones, none of which worked for me. Nina (Annie Parisse) and Liz (April Matthis) are sisters from California who have chosen their family’s vacation ranch in the Texas hill country as the site of the memorial service for Sean, their friend from college days in Austin. Ula (Maria Striar) and Len (Nat DeWolf) are friends who have come for the ceremony. Adrian (Rob Campbell), Nina’s former lover with whom she has been out of touch for 14 years, is an unexpected arrival. We also hear the offstage voices of Nina’s children Casey (Skylar Dunn) and Wally (Azhy Robertson). Late in the play, another friend Bama (Crystal Finn) arrives with a story that casts all that has transpired in a new light. We watch the preparations for the feast. We hear snippets of conversations from offstage. A few scenes are performed in near total darkness. The sequence of events is deliberately muddled. All this might have involved me more if the characters had been more interesting. They are clearly individuated, but insufficiently developed. The big reveal was a meager payoff for the long, slow, talky buildup. Rachel Hauck's rustic set is attractive, as are Jessica Pabst's costumes. Ken Rus Schmoll (The Invisible Hand) directs with a sure hand. Washburn is greatly admired by many in the theatrical community. I wish I could see what they see. Running time: 1 hour 50 minutes without intermission.

NOTE: Antlia Pneumatica (The Air Pump) is the name of an obscure constellation, one of several named for scientific instruments by French astronomer Lacalle.

Marjorie Prime ***

As a Pulitzer finalist and the basis for an upcoming film with Jon Hamm and Geena Davis, this futuristic family drama by Jordan Harrison (Maple and Vine) arrives at Playwrights Horizons with the burden of high expectations. Set in the not-too-distant future, it depicts a world that includes primes, creations of artificial intelligence in the guise of avatars of deceased loved ones, whose purpose is to provide therapy for the living, whether it be the preservation of fading memories for the demented, closure for unresolved relationships or balm for raw grief. Marjorie (the wonderful Lois Smith) is an 85-year-old woman who is rapidly losing the memories of a lifetime. Against the wishes of her prickly daughter Tess (a superb Lisa Emery), her son-in-law Jon (an ultimately touching Stephen Root) has provided her with Walter (Noah Bean), a prime modeled on her late husband when he was 30. Walter only learns what he hears, which raises the ethical question of whether we have the right to curate someone’s memories. Should Walter be kept ignorant of a family tragedy that happened 40 or so years prior so that he cannot cause Marjorie to recall it? We follow the family through the next few years, which turn out to be difficult ones. To say much more would lead into “spoiler” territory. The plot is intriguing, but a bit schematic. I wish the family’s long-ago tragedy were not based on something that has become a dramatic cliche. Nevertheless, there is much to admire. The actors are uniformly wonderful. The final scene is both a satisfying and unexpected one, filled with humanity. Laura Jelinek’s set all in aqua and white has an exaggerated spaciousness that I assume is deliberate. Jessica Pabst’s costumes do not call attention to themselves. Anne Kauffman’s direction is uncluttered and assured. Running time: 80 minutes, no intermission.

Hir **

This play by downtown performance artist Taylor Mac, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, might be called a kitchen sink drama, but the sink is filled with dirty dishes and the drama is covered by a thick layer of absurdist comedy. This semi-autobiographical play presents a family living on the edge in Stockton, California. Paige (the always wonderful Kristine Nielsen), the mother, is getting her revenge on her stroke-diminished husband Arnold (Daniel Orestes) for the years of abuse he subjected her and her children to by dressing him up in women’s clothes, clown wig and makeup and keeping him overmedicated. Teen-age daughter Maxine has become Max (Tom Phelan), a transgendered young man sporting a scruffy beard. Paige is home schooling Max to protect hir (the transgender pronoun) from bullying. Paige is convinced that a new golden age is arising where gender fluidity is the norm and patriarchal power is a thing of the past. Early in the play older son Isaac (a strong Cameron Scoggins) returns home after three years in a Marine mortuary unit in Afghanistan. He is shocked by what he finds — a cluttered home worthy of the Collyer brothers, a barely coherent father, a sister turned brother and a newly assertive mother. This is not the comforting home he hoped to return to. A power struggle between Isaac and Paige ensues. The play’s frequently hilarious moments do not hide the underlying sadness. Paige’s philosophy seemed half-baked and its presentation, repetitious. A certain amount of chaos is necessary to the play, but there was too much for my taste. Any play that offers Kristine Nielsen a starring role is worth seeing in my book, but this play puts that to the test. David Zinn’s set is a cluttered wonder. Gabriel Berry’s costumes suit their characters well. Director Niegel Smith’s direction is assured. Running time: one hour 50 minutes including intermission.

The Christians **

My college roommate made a useful distinction between “interesting” and “enjoyable.” I would have to put this new play by Lucas Hnath now previewing at Playwrights Horizons, in the former category. Hnath’s ambition in tackling the thorny topic of religion, his unusual structuring, his stylistic choices such as having the actors only speak through microphones are all intriguing. And yet, the results, at least for me, were less than stirring. The imposing set that greets us shows the platform of a church, complete with burnished wood, five throne-like chairs, a gigantic illuminated cross, an organ and huge television screens. A choir of 20 serenades us. Four of the characters are seated. Each has a mic tethered to a cord. Paul (a plausibly charismatic Andrew Garman), pastor of the impressive megachurch that is celebrating paying off its debt, gives a sermon that includes a drastic reinterpretation of an important church tenet. Joshua (Larry Powell), the associate pastor, who cannot accept the new dogma, is forced to resign and takes 50 congregants with him. Church elder Jay (Philip Kerr) tries unsuccessfully to be a mediator. When Jenny (Emily Donahoe), a seemingly naive congregant emerges from the choir to give testimony, she raises a series of provocative questions both about the content of the sermon and its timing, Paul’s answers make a bad situation worse. When he turns to his wife Elizabeth (Linda Powell), who has been sitting there for an hour without saying a word, for support, he does not get the response he expects. Joshua returns briefly to explain his views to Paul. In an effective scene, we get Paul’s inner thoughts whispered through his mic. We can follow Paul’s deepening crisis through the way he handles his mic cord through the play, first wrangling it like a cowboy and eventually struggling not to get tripped by it. The ending of the play is quiet and flat. Dane Laffrey's set is a knockout. Connie Furr Soloman's costumes are apt. Les Waters's direction is assured. I admire Hnath’s bold ambition and look forward to his upcoming play at New York Theatre Workshop. I just wish the results had turned out better this time. Running time 95 minutes, no intermission.

Placebo *

I very much enjoyed the Playwrights Horizons production of “This,” the first play I saw by Melissa James Gibson several years ago, but it’s been downhill since then. The second play I saw, “What Rhymes with America” at the Atlantic, left me cold. Now Gibson has returned to Playwrights Horizons with “Placebo,” which might be subtitled “Four Characters and a Vending Machine in Search of a Play.” Louise (Carrie Coon) is a graduate student in female sexuality, earning money by working with patients enrolled in a double-blind study of an experimental drug to increase female libido. Mary (Florencia Lozano) is one of the patients who is eager to know whether she is receiving the new drug or the placebo. Louise has lived for four years with Jonathan (William Jackson Harper), a 7th year graduate student in Classics who has hit a brick wall in his dissertation on Pliny the Elder. (The fact that Jonathan is played by a black actor seems to be of no significance to the plot, such as it is.) Louise tells her dying mother the white lie that she and Jonathan are getting married soon. Jonathan does not find Louise’s attempts to be supportive helpful. Tom (Alex Hurt), who works for another study at the hospital, becomes friendly with Louise. The game they play with a vending machine is the liveliest scene in the play. The experimental drug study and the placebo abruptly disappear from view and the action shifts to the troubled relationship between Louise and Jonathan. The play ends with a very long, often ludicrous scene of them breaking up — or not. I found the characters little more than collections of tics despite the efforts of an appealing cast to breathe some life into them. The play is not helped by David Zinn’s dreary and confusing set which uses the entire width of the theater to represent both the hospital and Jonathan’s apartment. I’m not sure what more director Daniel Aukin could have done with this material. Gibson seems to appeal to the younger generation; the audience included a group of twenty-somethings who whooped and hollered at every opportunity. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes, no intermission.

NOTE: Why the sudden spate of one-word play titles beginning with P— Pocatello, Posterity, Placebo, Permission?

Grand Concourse ***

In her new play now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, Heidi Schreck displays a talent for creating vivid characters whom she treats with compassion and humanity. Shelley (Quincy Tyler Bernstine), a 39-year-old nun who runs a soup kitchen in the Bronx, is undergoing a crisis of faith. Oscar (Bobby Moreno), the handsome Hispanic handyman, affects a working-class macho facade that he doesn’t entirely feel. Frog (Lee Wilkof), a homeless regular client, struggles against mental illness. When Emma (Ismenia Mendes), a troubled 19-year-old with a reckless streak, begins work as a volunteer, her behavior has an impact on the other three, especially Shelley. The play is a series of short scenes, punctuated by blackouts, that gradually reveal the characters as they perform their jobs. Many vegetables are chopped. Director Kip Fagan (Schreck’s husband) does an excellent job of choreographing the work sequences. The cast is uniformly excellent. Rachel Hauck’s set design really looks like a working kitchen. Jessica Pabst’s costumes suit each character. The play examines issues of faith and forgiveness, the motivations for doing good, the appropriateness (or lack thereof) of help given, the extremes to which neediness can lead, and the sense of workplace community. The results are both enlightening and entertaining. I do wish that Schreck had further clarified the reasons for Emma's strong impact on Shelley. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes; no intermission.

Bootycandy **

This work by Robert O’Hara, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, is a loose assemblage of sketches, most of them comedic, that don’t really fit together very well. The central character is Sutter (Phillip James Brannon) whom we see as an effeminate black child, a misunderstood teenager, a black playwright with a taste for racial vengeance, and a loving grandson. The scenes that include him have a loose narrative thread. Other scenes include a monologue by a preacher who comes out as a cross dresser and another by a man trying to talk himself out of a mugging. A clever costume trick is the gimmick of a hilarious scene depicting a phone conversation with two actors playing four characters. In a darker vein there is a long scene about two brothers-in-law who have a complex and painful relationship. The final scene of act one is an amusing faux conference at Playwrights Horizons with a panel comprised of the alleged authors of the previous sketches and a clueless white moderator. After intermission there is a funny yet moving scene of Sutter’s family at the dinner table. This is followed by an overlong sketch of two lesbians, Genitalia and Intifada, undoing their commitment ceremony. A friend accurately described it as a Saturday Night Live sketch that wears out its welcome. The evening turns very dark with a playlet about Sutter and a flaming butch queen friend picking up a drunk, emotionally unstable white man in a bar and going back to his hotel. In the aftermath, there is a Brechtian moment in which the actors rebel against the playwright and decide to skip the (nonexistent) prison scene. We end with Sutter reminiscing with his grandmother at her nursing home. The language is consistently and outrageously vulgar and there is both graphic description of sexual acts and extended male nudity (tellingly, by the only white actor). The best argument for the play is the opportunity it provides for five terrific actors to show their mettle. Jessica Frances Dukes, Jesse Pennington, Benja Kay Thomas and Lance Coadie Williams play multiple roles with great gusto. The revolving set and appropriately over-the-top costumes by Clint Ramos are first-rate. Once again I am persuaded that, in general, playwrights should not direct their own work. There are multiple instances where scenes run on much too long, a fault another director might well have corrected. I really hoped I could recommend it with more enthusiasm, but its many faults cancel out most of its strengths. I won't give away the meaning of the title. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes including intermission.