What Do We Need To Talk About?

A-

Little did I imagine when I penned my last review exactly two months ago that it might well be the final one. Fortunately, I’m still here but live theater in New York isn’t. When it will return and which theaters will survive are questions that will probably not be answered for a long time. As March and April slipped by, the list of theatrical evenings I had looked forward to in vain grew longer and longer: Company, The Minutes, The Siblings, Sanctuary City, 72 Miles To Go, Nollywood Dreams, Caroline or Change, Intimate Apparel, Selling Kabul, Flying over Sunset, The Visitor, Take Me Out and How I Learned To Drive. Although several worthwhile filmed productions were made available either on television or online, they were not live theater. Leave it to Richard Nelson to come up with something original that bridges the gap between recorded and live. Tonight the Public Theater presented on their website the premiere and sole performance of Nelson's timely postscript to his four plays about the Apple family of Rhinebeck, What Do We Need To Talk About? When we meet the four Apple siblings — Barbara (Maryann Plunkett), Richard (Jay O. Sanders), Marian (Laila Robins), Jane (Sally Murphy) and Jane’s partner Tim (Stephen Kunken) — they are just starting a Zoom session. Richard is temporarily living with Barbara who has just returned from a near-fatal hospital stay. Tim is in isolation in the guest bedroom of the home he shares with Jane, who is too frightened to go shopping for groceries. Marian has dressed up for the call. For the next 70 minutes, we watch and listen as they talk about life today and tell each other stories. It is very much like observing them sitting around the kitchen table in the previous plays, but with the major advantage that you don’t have to struggle to hear them. If you haven’t seen the earlier plays, the details of their conversations will probably mean less to you, but I think the work can stand on its own merits. What a pleasure it is to be reunited with these sympathetic characters. Watching it sliced two ways, reminding us of what we are missing while holding out hope for what might lie ahead. It will only be available until May 4, so don’t delay.

Soft Power

C

I had high hopes for this collaboration by two Tony winners – playwright David Henry Hwang (M. Butterfly, Yellow Face, Chinglish) and composer/lyricist Jeanine Tesori (Fun Home, Caroline or Change, Violet) – now at the Public Theater. Alas, working together does not seem to have brought out their best efforts. The concept of a musical within a play that deals with US-China relations, the state of the union, the status of Asian-Americans in our society, the colonialist subtext of The King and I, the 2016 election as seen by the loser, cultural misunderstanding and the conflict between saving face and following one’s heart is certainly ambitious. We meet Xue Xing (the impressive Conrad Ricamora; The King and I, Here Lies Love), a married Chinese film producer sent to the US to recruit DHH (Francis Jue; Wild Goose Dreams, Yellow Face), the leading Chinese-American playwright, to adapt a popular Chinese film as a musical. Alyse Alan Louis (Amelie, Disaster!) plays Xue Xing’s American girlfriend Zoe. DHH is stabbed on the street in a possible hate crime. In his fever dream after the stabbing, we meet Hillary Clinton, as played by the impressive Ms. Louis. There is an over-the-top musical number at a Hillary rally set in a luxurious McDonald’s. In another number, Hillary scarfs down pizza and ice cream while singing about her loss. Xing and Hillary discover a mutual attraction. Until intermission, things were relatively coherent. Alas, in the second act, things go off the rails. A panel of experts 50 years in the future is discussing the film that we have allegedly been watching. Our president threatens war with China and Xing attempts to avert it. The satire becomes even more heavy handed and the play loses energy. The production team is first-rate: the gold and red set by Clint Ramos (Wild Goose Dreams, Barbecue) is beautiful, the elaborate costumes by Anita Yavich (Chilglish, The Legend of Georgia McBride) are gorgeous, the wigs by Tom Watson (Wicked, My Fair Lady) are excellent. The lively choreography by Sam Pinkleton (Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812) pays tribute to several genres of dance and is superbly performed by the talented ensemble of ten. The music, performed by an orchestra of over 20, is more than serviceable but less than memorable. Although there are many moments along the way to enjoy, particularly in the first act, they are eventually done in by an incoherent book. Even a fever dream needs some logic. Director Leigh Silverman (The Lifespan of a Fact, Chinglish), has not figured out how to pull it all together. It was a fascinating disappointment. Running time: two hours 20 minutes including intermission.

We're Only Alive for a Short Amount of Time

B

Don’t let the lengthy and unhelpful title of David Cale’s latest performance piece at The Public Theater deter you from seeing it. Cale (The Total Bent, Harry Clarke) serves as playwright, lyricist, co-composer (with Matthew Dean Marsh), and performer of this autobiographical monologue interspersed with songs that retells moments from his formative years in Luton, “the ugliest city in England.” His alcoholic father and thwarted mother constantly fought, leading the young David to take refuge in breeding tropical birds and listening to pop music, while his younger brother Simon mostly stayed in his room building model airplanes. Their shady grandfather did business with the notorious Kray twins. Cale dreamed of escaping to America to become a singer before he reached 21. A shocking event when he was 16 changed all their lives. Without any change of costume, Cale convincingly transforms into each family member. Despite the sensational nature of some of the material, Cale, rather remarkably, maintains his calm demeanor. He is a masterful storyteller. His songs impressed me less; they sometimes did not seem to arise organically from the moment and the lyrics were often annoyingly repetitive. The music was well-played by an ensemble of six behind a scrim. The set by Kevin Depinet is a black square with a stool and a mic, unadorned except for antique birdcages that disappear into the ceiling and, during an episode about Simon, are briefly replaced by model airplanes. Director Robert Falls (The Jacksonian, Shining City) shows a talent for this material. For me, the piece was most affecting as a touching love letter to Cale’s late mother. I was surprised that the Anspacher Theater was far from full for the performance I attended. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

WIld Goose Dreams

B-
While the new play by Hansol Jung now at the Public Theater is a co-production with La Jolla Playhouse, the two theaters have apparently taken quite different approaches to the work. While the La Jolla production had a very simple set, the Public has totally reconfigured its Martinson Theater to suggest Seoul, with a technicolor extravaganza of neon signs, backlit posters and photographs, a hot pink catwalk and audience crossover and a two-tiered stage with numerous popups and hidden doors. We also have a mod Greek chorus (Dan Domingues, Lulu Fall, Kendyl Ito, Jaygee Macapugay, Joel Perez, Jamar Williams and Katrina Yaukey) singing binary code, internet messages and emoticons. All of this is allegedly in service of the tender love story of two lonely people who meet online, Guk Minsung (Peter Kim; Yellow Face, Kung Fu), a “goose father” who stayed behind in Seoul to fund a better life for the wife and daughter he sent to America, and Yoo Nanhee (Michelle Krusiec; Chinglish), a young woman who fled North Korea four years before, who is troubled by dreams and visions of the father (Francis Jue; Yellow Face, Kung Fu) she left behind. The problem for me was that all the lavish ancillary bells and whistles practically smothered the main event. While I was often entertained by the latest surprise in Clint Ramos’s (Eclipsed, Barbecue) set, Linda Cho's (The Lifespan of a Fact, Anastasia) clever costumes and the inventive direction of Leigh Silverman (The Lifespan of a Fact, Chinglish), I felt that they somehow diminished the central story. There were occasions when it was confusing to know what was transpiring. My favorite moments were the quieter ones when there was less attempt to grab attention. Francis Jue steals every scene he is in. Ms. Krusiec seemed a bit subdued. Mr. Kim was fine, but a bit too young and too handsome for his role. The chorus members were an entertaining lot. While I did not enjoy some of what was presented, I was certainly never bored. Running time: one hour 50 minutes, no intermission.

Mlima's Tale

B-

This new work by two-time Pulitzer winner Lynn Nottage (Ruined, Sweat), now at The Public Theater, is a moral tale about the illicit ivory trade. If you have been hiding under a rock, you might not know that poachers are still killing elephants for their tusks even though the ivory trade has been outlawed. Ms. Nottage traces the path from the brutal killing of Mlima, one of Kenya’s oldest and largest elephants, to the unveiling of the art work created from his tusks at a rich collector’s penthouse. Along the way, we meet the greedy and corrupt people who fund the poachers, bribe the police, shipping company and customs officials; commission the art and carve the ivory with pretended concern for its  source. All these people are played by three fine actors — Kevin Mambo (The Fortress of Solitude), Jojo Gonzalez (Small Mouth Sounds) and Ito Aghayere (Junk, Familiar). Occasionally  I became confused about who they were playing at any given moment. The fact that the first roles played by Ms. Aghayere are men compounded my confusion. Ms. Nottage attempts with intermittent success to give the characters enough individuality to keep them from seeming just cogs in a machine. Her most stunning creation is Mlima, charismatically portrayed by Sahr Ngaujah (Fela!, Master Harold and the Boys) more by movement than by words. Mlima is a witness to the action who daubs each character with white paint as each becomes a guilty participant. Perhaps this marks them for future haunting or punishment; they receive none here. The spare set design by Riccardo Hernandez (Miss You Like Hell, Indecent), expressively lit by Lap Chi Chu, avoids distraction. Between scenes, texts that I assume are African maxims, are projected. Jennifer Moeller’s (Sweat, Cardinal) costumes are a big help in identifying the characters. Musician Justin Hicks plays the drums and occasionally sings evocatively. Jo Bonney (Father Comes Home from the War) directs with great fluidity. It’s all admirable, but a bit remote and didactic, unlike previous plays by Ms. Nottage that I have enjoyed. Running time: one hour 20 minutes, no intermission.

Office Hour

D

Since there’s a warning sign at the theater entrance, it’s no spoiler to advise you that there are gunshots in Julia Cho’s (Aubergine) new play at the Public Theater. The playwright takes the 2007 massacre at Virginia Tech as her inspiration and turns it into what is basically a set of variations on gun violence for no good reason that I could find. The English department at an unnamed university does not know how to deal with Dennis (Ki Hong Lee), a troubled Korean-American writing student who hides behind sunglasses and a hoodie, never speaks and whose writings are so violently perverse that the other students are afraid to come to class. In the first scene we meet three instructors — David (Greg Keller; Animal, Belleville), who flunked Dennis and is convinced that Dennis is responsible for anonymous negative reviews against him; Genevieve (Adeola Role; Eclipsed), a ringer for Nikki Giovanni who warned against the real-life shooter-to-be and threatened to resign if he were not removed from her class; and Gina (Sue Jean Kim; Aubergine, The End of Longing), his new instructor, who David and Genevieve think might be able to draw Dennis out and get him to seek help because of their shared Asian-American background. The bulk of the play consists of Dennis’s visit to Gina’s office hour, seen in several versions, all of which end badly, with an escalating level of violence. If the playwright’s intention was to show how easily we become desensitized to repetitive violence, she did succeed at that. Unfortunately I thought the main effect of the play was to trivialize an important topic. The actors are fine, although Ki Hong Lee does not fit the description of Dennis as extremely unattractive. Takeshi Kata’s (The Profane) office set has the right look and mysteriously emerges from the dark, no doubt a very expensive effect. Kaye Voyce’s (After the Blast) costumes befit the characters well. Bray Poor’s sound design is alarmingly effective. Neel Keller (Forever) directed. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Gently Down the Stream

B

It has been far too long since we have had a play by Martin Sherman (Bent, When She Danced) on a New York stage. Thanks to the Public Theater, the drought is over. Even better, it has Gabriel Ebert (4,000 Miles, Matilda, Preludes) as one of its two leads. As Rufus, a bipolar Brit with a penchant for older men, Ebert once again proves that he is one of the finest actors of his generation. Beau, the expat cocktail pianist who is the object of his attention, is played by Harvey Fierstein (Torch Song Trilogy, Hairspray), which, depending on your point of view, is either the best or worst thing about the play. Listening to Fierstein’s raspy voice for an extended period has always been a problem for me. In this case, the problem is compounded by the New Orleans accent by way of Brooklyn that he adopts. That's a lot to get through to appreciate the subtle acting beneath. Christopher Spears (The Harvest) is fine in the third, smaller role of Harry. His rendition of “The Man I Love” is not one you’ll soon forget, even if no match for the snippets of Mabel Mercer songs that punctuate the play. The importance of oral history to preserve the lives of marginalized people that society prefers to disregard is one of the play’s themes. Illustrating how relationships change over time is another. There are several monologues for Beau that eventually explain why he has become so mistrustful of the possibility of happiness for gay men. What he reveals about the gay history of the last 50 years contains little that will be unfamiliar to a New York audience. Sherman’s dialogue sparkles with wit, but his structure is a bit lumpy and the final scene seems pasted on. Derek McClane’s (Noises Off, I Am My Own Wife) set presents a London flat guaranteed to inspire real estate envy. The costumes by Michael Krass (Noises Off, Machinal) are apt. Director Sean Mathias (Waiting for Godot, No Man’s Land) manages to minimize the play’s structural problems. While the play doesn’t represent Sherman at his best, it still provides an entertaining and occasionally moving evening. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

Latin History for Morons

B

It’s hard to believe that it’s over 25 years since I first saw John Leguizamo in his one-man show Mambo Mouth. On the basis of his new show at the Public Theater, I can report that he is still a consummate entertainer who owns the audience. Marriage and fatherhood may have mellowed him a bit, but he still ventures into X-rated territory. Upset that his 8th-grade son has been repeatedly bullied at school, he sets out to boost his son's self-estem by helping him write a report about his hero. He tries to instill the son with Latino pride by telling him about heroic historical examples from the Aztecs to the Incas and onward. It’s a loose structure that gives Leguizamo plenty of opportunity for hilarious impersonations and dance moves. He presents his findings as a mock lecture complete with blackboard scribblings. At its best, it’s very entertaining, but it occasionally sags and becomes repetitive. Nevertheless, it’s always a pleasure to see Leguizamo at work. Rachel Hauck designed the classroom-like set. Tony Taccone, whose work with one-person shows includes Bridge & Tunnel and Wishful Drinking, directed. Running time: one hour 40 minutes: no intermission.

What Did You Expect? *** B

The second installment of Richard Nelson’s trilogy “The Gabriels: Election Year in the Life of One Family,” now at the Public Theater, brings us back to the kitchen of the Gabriel family in Rhinebeck, New York, this time on September 16, 2016. Those of you who saw the first play, “Hungry,” will recall that it is set in the same place on March 4 of this year. Thomas Gabriel, a playwright and novelist, had died several months before. Mary Gabriel (Maryann Plunkett), a retired doctor, was his third wife and now his widow. His younger brother George (Jay O. Sanders) is a piano teacher and cabinetmaker. George’s wife Hannah (Lynn Hawley) works for a local caterer. George’s sister Joyce (Amy Warren), an unmarried assistant costume designer, is visiting from Brooklyn. Patricia (Roberta Maxwell), George and Joyce’s mother, now resides in a nearby assisted living facility, but is there for dinner. Somewhat peculiarly, Thomas’s first wife Karin (Meg Gibson), an actress, is also there, having rented the room over the garage. As the family prepares supper, they discuss a wide range of subjects, many of them literary. An erotic passage from Wharton, a famous picnic attended by Melville and Hawthorne, and a found letter from a famous artist all command their attention. The topics they are trying to avoid are the pressing ones — a family financial crisis brought on by Patricia’s gullibility. the downside of the gentrification of Rhineback for locals, the disinterest of wealthy Democrats in the working class. a generalized sense of anxiety and the upcoming election. As usual, Nelson brings things right up to date with a reference to Hillary’s pneumonia and Jimmy Fallon’s messing up Donald Trump’s hair on TV. The political elements seemed less important and less integral this time, almost as if they were grafted onto the play. The varied conversations also seemed less part of a coherent whole this time. Anyone who has not seen the previous play may not get a lot out of this one. Nevertheless, the ensemble cast is once again superb. Susan Hilferty again designed the costumes and, with Jason Ardizzone West, the cozy set. The playwright directed. We will have to wait until Election Day for the final play “Women of a Certain Age” to see what is in store for the Gabriels. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

Privacy *** B

The collaboration between London’s Donmar Warehouse and the Public Theater is off to a good start with this ingenious production created by writer James Graham and director Josie Rourke. Substantially revised from the 2014 Donmar version, the play is an informative essay on the uses and abuses of cybersurveillance, wrapped in the tale of an emotionally closed British writer who moves to New York to learn to open up a bit (or is it really just to pursue his ex?). The admirable Daniel Radcliffe, who never repeats himself in his choice of roles for the New York stage, plays the writer. The other actors — De’adre Aziza, Raffi Barsoumian, Michael Countryman, Rachel Dratch and Reg Rogers — skillfully play a multitude of roles including psychiatrist, parents, neighbors, cyberexperts and intelligence agency officials. We even get an appearance on video by Edward Snowden. There’s also an onstage digital researcher (Harry Davies). Audience participation is an important part of the proceedings. People are urged to turn on their cellphones (silent mode, of course), log onto the theater’s wi-fi network, use Google, take selfies and email photos of favorite New York locales. None of this material goes to waste. The first act sets up the basic situation and settles the writer in New York. In the second act, both funnier and scarier, he ventures into the world of online dating. Radcliffe is front and center the whole time except for a lengthy episode in Act Two which begins as a case of identity theft and turns into something darker. There's a demonstration of the mountain of information collected by one's smartphone that is truly alarming. Lucy Osborne’s set is simple but witty; it features the ultimate overstuffed couch for analysis and a New York skyline made of Amazon cartons. Duncan McLean’s projections add a lot, including identifying the many characters. Paul Tazewell’s costumes are unobtrusive. Occasionally the informative and entertainment elements of the play get in each other’s way. At other times the material threatens to become repetitive. Nevertheless, it makes for a most unusual theatrical experience. Too bad the entire run is virtually sold out. Running time: 2 1/2 hours including intermission.

Dry Powder ***

Sarah Burgess must be the luckiest playwright in town. For her New York debut, she scored a top-drawer Public Theater production of this dark comedy about the workings of a private equity firm. The starry cast includes Hank Azaria (Spamalot), Claire Danes (Homeland) and John Krasinski (The Office) and the director is Thomas Kail (Hamilton). The Martinson Theater has been reconfigured with seating on four sides surrounding a starkly minimalist set by Rachel Hauck (Night Is a Room) all in cobalt blue, brilliantly lit by Jason Lyons. The actors are sleekly costumed in business attire by Clint Ramos; even the stagehands are dressed for the office. The production values set a high standard for the play to match. It almost succeeds. Burgess has written snappy dialog for vivid characters: Rick (Azaria), head of KMM Capital, has left Goldman and brought along two proteges, Seth (Krasinski) and Jenny (Danes), as founding partners. Blinded by privilege, Rick has precipitated a P.R. nightmare by holding an extravagant engagement party on the very day that hundreds of employees were laid off at a firm KMM recently acquired. KMM’s "dry powder" (available capital) is threatened when some limited partners, angered at being targeted by demonstrators, have pulled out their investments. Seth brings Rick a deal to acquire Landmark Luggage, a failing California firm that, he maintains, will offer both an opportunity to create American jobs and thereby improve KMM’s reputation, as well as a chance to make serious money. Jenny counters that they can make more money doing their usual “rip and flip,” cannibalizing the firm and selling off its assets. The central conflict is between Seth, a pleasant guy who seems to think that private equity is not inherently evil, and Jenny, a near-robotic number cruncher, whose sole focus is on maximizing profit irrespective of public relations concerns. Jenny, in today’s parlance, is “on the spectrum;” her example alone would be enough to give Asperger’s a bad name. If a man had written her character, he would have without a doubt drawn the wrath of all feminists. Her monomania and ongoing disdain for Seth are a source of many of the play’s laughs. Seth’s values are tested when the plans for the deal he has worked out with Landmark’s CEO Jeff (Sanjit de Silva), seemingly a man of principle, are threatened. Rick adapts to each changing situation without concern for morality or consistency. For most viewers there will be few surprises and little new information about high finance. The play also becomes somewhat cartoonish and repetitive at times. Nevertheless, with its outstanding cast and stylish production, it is often tremendously entertaining. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes. 

Grounded ***

Before I discuss the play, let me warn you that the entire run of this solo play starring Public Theater board member Anne Hathaway is practically sold out, even at the extravagant prices her star power has enabled the Public to charge. It’s a win-win situation — extra income for the Public and a chance for Hathaway to display her acting chops. In this timely play by George Brant (seen in New York last year in a downtown production with a different actress and director), she plays The Pilot, first seen as an F-16 pilot in Iraq who loves her job, especially the freedom of being alone in “the blue.” While home on leave, she meets a man who is not intimidated by her job and falls in love. After she gets pregnant, they marry and she tries unsuccessfully to adjust to the life of housewife and mother. She returns to the Air Force, but instead of being reunited with her fighter jet, she is reassigned to the “Chair Force,” serving 12-hour shifts controlling a drone halfway around the world from a chair in an air-conditioned trailer at a base near Las Vegas. At first she likes the new job with its godlike sense of power and its allowing her to return home to her husband and child every night. Gradually her attitude changes. While the carnage she caused with her F-16 never bothered her because she would be miles away before the bombs hit, her drone lingers over the target afterwards and she is forced to see the flying body parts on her screen. She also becomes increasingly aware of the ubiquitous surveillance cameras in today’s America. Hathaway gives a controlled, convincing performance that traces a path from elation to despair. The set by Riccardo Hernandez is covered with rippled sand and there’s a pyramid in one corner. We are not in the Middle East though. This is Nevada sand and the pyramid is the Luxor in Las Vegas. The production is greatly enhanced by excellent projections by Peter Nigrini. Director Julie Taymor mostly resists stamping the play with her trademark tricks, although there is a bit that begins and ends the play that seemed pointlessly distracting. The play does not achieve greatness, but it presents a thoughtful look at aspects of our society that merit our attention. Running time: one hour 15 minutes, no intermission.

Buzzer **

I had high hopes for Tracey Scott Wilson’s play, newly arrived at the Public Theater after productions in Minneapolis and Chicago. The premise of an interracial couple moving into a gentrifying neighborhood with an addict friend in tow seemed promising. Jackson (Grantham Coleman) is an African-American from the ‘hood who got a scholarship to Exeter, went on to Harvard and Harvard Law and is now a successful lawyer. Don (Michael Stahl-David), a privileged white who has been his close friend since Exeter, is now an oft-relapsed addict. Jackson has been an intensely loyal friend who has taken Don in after each failed attempt at rehab. Jackson’s seemingly implausible decision to move back to the neighborhood he escaped from is motivated by a desire to return as victor. Jackson’s longtime live-in girlfriend Suzy (Tessa Ferrer, who bears an uncanny resemblance to the young Sandra Bullock), teaches school in a low-income area. She is not keen on moving to the old ‘hood and is definitely against allowing Don to move in with them while he once again attempts to get his act together. Jackson moves ahead on both fronts anyway. It does not turn out well for them. The apartment's broken buzzer is a metaphor. Although the play touches on race, class, codependency, gentrification and betrayal, it doesn’t shed much light on any of these topics. Don has by far the showiest role and Stall-David makes the most of it. Ferrer is an appropriately edgy Suzy. Coleman seemed a bit underpowered as Jackson, but the problem may be in the writing. Laura Jellinek’s attractive set suggests the appeal of the apartment and opens up to reveal the building’s lobby. Clint Ramos’s costumes were appropriate. The end of the play seemed rushed, but I don’t know whether the fault lies with director Anne Kauffmann or with the playwright. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Father Comes Home from the Wars (Parts 1, 2 & 3) ***

On the basis of this first installment of Suzan-Lori Parks’s nine-part epic about the African-American experience from the mid-19th century to the present, now at the Public Theater, it is easy to understand why this highly original playwright won both a Pulitzer and a MacArthur grant. In “A Measure of a Man” Hero (Sterling K. Brown), a slave on a Texas plantation, must decide whether to follow his master to war in exchange for a promise of freedom. His wife Penny (Jenny Jules), his father figure The Oldest Old Man (Peter Jay Fernandez) and his oft-time rival Homer (Jeremie Harris) weigh in with their opinions and The Chorus of Less Than Desirable Slaves make bets on his decision. Parks’s mashup of Greek drama, poetic language, anachronisms, music and humor somehow works. In “A Battle in the Wilderness,” the most naturalistic of the evening’s plays, we meet Hero’s master (Ken Marks), now a Confederate colonel, and the Union soldier he has captured (Louis Cancelmi). The two of them spar over the nature of slavery. The colonel is allowed to display a soft side and the captured soldier reveals a couple of surprises. Hero and the soldier find a common bond. In “The Union of My Confederate Parts” we return to the plantation many months later. Only Penny and Homer are left of the original slaves. Three runaway slaves who are hiding at the plantation try to persuade Homer to run off with them, but he is unwilling to leave Penny, who is tormented by nightmares about Hero. Word reaches the plantation that both the master and Hero are dead. However, Odyssey (Jacob Ming-Trent), Hero’s long lost dog, arrives and tells of Hero’s imminent return. When Hero, who has renamed himself Ulysses, arrives, he reveals previously unseen aspects of his character that are far from heroic. The question of what freedom costs remains open. Parks's incidental music and songs are beautifully performed by Steven Bargonetti. Jo Bonney’s direction is exemplary. The simple set by Neil Patel is effective and Esosa’s deliberately anachronistic costumes are a hoot. Parks proves that dealing with serious subjects can still leave lots of room to be entertaining. I hope the remaining six parts maintain the high level of these three. Running time: 3 hours, including one intermission.

The Library **

Since I have enjoyed several films by Steven Soderbergh, I was excited to learn he would direct a play this Spring by one of his frequent collaborators, screenwriter Scott Z. Burns. My anticipation dimmed a bit when I found out that the play, now in previews at the Public Theater, was about a mass murder in a high school library. I assumed that this talented duo must have some new insight to share that would justify putting the audience through this ordeal again, even if only on stage. Such is not the case. The work is shallow, muddled and manipulative, exploiting a Columbine-like incident without deepening our understanding. Caitlin Gabriel (a fine Chloe Grace Moretz), severely wounded in the shooting, is named by classmate Ryan Mayes (Daryl Sabara) as the person who caused the death of several students by telling the gunman where they were hiding. Caitlin denies this, but no one believes her --  not her estranged parents Elizabeth (Jennifer Westfeldt) and Nolan (a smarmy Michael O'Keefe), nor her preacher (Ben Livingston), nor the detective (Tamara Tunie), especially after a dicey lie detector test. Abused by the media and reviled by her friends and neighbors, Caitlin tells a reporter that Joy Sheridan, a girl who was murdered after leading the endangered students in prayer, was the one who gave away the hiding place. Her story is distorted by the press and only inflames the situation. Joy's religious mother Dawn (Lili Taylor) finds comfort in prayer -- and a book deal. Caitlin's parents are suffering financially, but their request for a share of the victims' fund is a political hot potato. Getting a slice of the pie depends on their ability to persuade Caitlin to change her story. Meanwhile, she is undergoing repeated operations for her injuries. After all this, we get a deus ex machinae in the form of a cellphone. What was the point? What I will remember most about this play is the lighting design (by David Lander): the back wall is brightly illuminated in a series of brilliant color fields of many hues. The actors are occasionally bathed in dramatic yellow light. When the lighting is the most interesting part of a production, something is drastically wrong with the play. I must grudgingly report that the people around me seemed to be enjoying it. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Regular Singing ***

The fourth and final installment in Richard Nelson's saga about the Apple family of Rhinebeck, New York brings the series to a satisfying conclusion. I confess that I approached this one with a bit of trepidation, because, by the end of the third play, the pleasure of the Apple family's company was wearing a bit thin for me. In addition, two members of the superb original cast (Shuler Hensley and J. Smith-Cameron) were unavailable for the final play and I was uncomfortable about seeing new actors in their roles. Like the three previous plays, the action or, more accurately, the conversation is set on a day significant for American history. "That Hopey Changey Thing" was set on Election Night 2010; "Sweet and Sad" on the 10th anniversary of 9/11 and "Sorry"on Election Day 2012. (I suggest you use the search box near the top right to read my reviews of the three previous plays.) This time the occasion is the 50th anniversary of JFK's assassination. The Apple siblings -- Barbara (Maryann Plunkett), a spinster schoolteacher; Marian (Laila Robins), also a teacher, whose marriage collapsed after her daughter's suicide and who now lives with Barbara; Jane (Sally Murphy, replacing Smith-Cameron), a writer who has recently moved to Rhinebeck with partner Tim (Stephen Kunken, replacing Hensley), an actor/waiter; and Richard (Jay O. Sanders), an attorney who has fled his failed marriage in New York for a job in the Cuomo administration in Albany -- and their Uncle Benjamin (John Devries), a former actor whose failing memory has landed him in an assisted living home, have gathered at Barbara's house, where Marian's ex-husband Adam lies dying upstairs. As they go over Adam's detailed plans for his funeral, they discuss many things, from the state of the country to their personal demons. There is no action in the usual sense, but there are occasional moments of great pathos. Murphy seemed a bit young to play Jane and was barely audible at times. Kunken, always a fine actor, fit in well as Tim. The four returning actors are as excellent as we have come to expect. It was a real pleasure to spend time with them again. Nelson as director serves his own material well. For one of the Public Theater's Lab productions, the modest set and costumes by Susan Hilferty are commensurate with the low ticket price. At one hour, 50 minutes without intermission, the play could use some judicious trimming.

Arguendo **

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Elevator Repair Service, the innovative group that brought theatrical versions of The Great Gatsby (Gatz) and The Sun Also Rises (The Select) to the Public Theater, has headed off in a new direction with Arguendo. The underlying text this time is not a work of fiction, but the transcript of oral arguments from a 1991 Supreme Court case dealing with go-go dancers in Indiana. The issue under consideration is whether requiring them to wear pasties and G-strings violates their First Amendment rights. The talented cast of five (Maggie Hoffman, Mike Iveson, Vin Knight, Susie Sokol and Ben Williams) portray all nine justices, the opposing attorneys, a clerk, several reporters and an exotic dancer. The proceedings begin conventionally enough. Actors move their chairs and change their voices as they portray different justices. At a certain point they roll down ramps from their elevated platform and move around the stage to confront each attorney. The backdrop is an animated projection of legal texts that behave as it they have a life of their own, at times wildly spinning at dizzying speeds. As the case progresses, the action grows ever more surrealistic, even as the actors stick to the transcript. There’s nudity, but I guarantee that you will not find it arousing. The activity becomes so frenetic that the decision itself almost gets lost in the shuffle. There is an odd final section with Justices Ginsburg and Rehnquist comparing notes on their sartorial choices. I compliment the group for the originality of their concept. It’s clever and sometimes amusing, but, to me at least, ultimately pointless. The audience greeted it with great enthusiasm. John Collins directed. Running time: 80 minutes, no intermission.

The Designated Mourner ***

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The Public Theater has revived Wallace Shawn's 1996 play with the original cast of the 2000 New York production -- the playwright as Jack, the title character; Deborah Eisenberg (in real life, Shawn's life partner and accomplished author) as his wife Judy, and Larry Pine as her father Howard, a poet. The play takes place in an unnamed country with an oppressive regime battling a proletarian underground, with collateral damage to the intelligentsia. Howard has a devoted clique who share his contempt for everyone outside their circle. Howard and Judy's leftist leanings eventually lead them both to grief. When things get rough, the apolitical Jack abandons them and undergoes a series of inner crises that lead to his increasing alienation from reality. The play is basically a set of interlocking monologues, with occasional snippets of conversation and virtually no onstage action. To be honest, there was a point about 45 minutes into the play when I wondered how I could make it to intermission (at the 1 hour, 40 minute mark), let alone to play's end. But then, I became more engrossed in it and stayed. I am glad I did because the best scenes are in the second act. Shawn's vivid writing ranges from the poetic to the grotesque. His performance is gripping. Eisenberg grew on me as the evening progressed. Pine, in the smallest role, seemed bland and devoid of charisma. Andre Gregory's direction is, as one would expect, assured, but he made some quirky choices, such as having the audio technician install the actors' mikes after they arrived onstage and placing a glaringly bright fluorescent light on the front edge of the stage for the second act. The minimalist set was effective and the sound design was excellent. I would credit those responsible, but, for reasons unknown, the theater did not give out programs. Running time: 2 hours, 50 minutes including intermission.

Venice **

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After productions in Kansas City and Los Angeles, this hip-hop musical “inspired by” Othello has arrived at the Public Theater. Shakespeare’s plot has been so substantially reworked that you would do well to forget that connection. Shakespeare did not give us a dystopian society, chemical warfare, government by corporation enforced by mercenaries, revolution, half-brothers, a Lady Gaga-type singer or a bomb at a public occasion (too soon after Boston, in my opinion). The book by Eric Rosen, who also directed, is cluttered and overcomplicated. The music is by Matt Sax, who collaborated with Rosen on the lyrics. There is also a frustratingly vague credit for additional music by Curtis Moore. Sax, who appears as the play’s MC, bears an uncanny resemblance to Lin Manuel Miranda. So do his lyrics (maybe all hip-hop just sounds alike to my uneducated ear.) The cast is generally strong. For me the standouts were Leslie Odom Jr. (Sam on “Smash”) in the Iago-like role and Victoria Platt as Emilia, his wife. Haaz Sleiman (“Nurse Jackie”) and Jennifer Damiano (“Next to Normal”) are fine as the central couple, Venice and Willow. Jonathan-David (“A Civil War Christmas”) and Claybourne Elder (“One Arm”) make the most of their parts. While I found hip-hop appropriate for “In the Heights”, it seemed monotonous and alien here. Some of the musical numbers that break away from sing-song are quite moving, particularly a duet for Willow and Emilia in Act Two. The ending with the MC’s reminder that it’s just a play, followed by an upbeat song, struck a false note. Since this is a Lab production, the set and costumes, by Beowulf Boritt and Clint Ramos respectively, are simple but effective. The audience was wildly appreciative. I would not be surprised if it moves to an extended run at another venue. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes with intermission.

Neva **

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It's not often that we get to see a play by a contemporary Chilean playwright in New York. Now, courtesy of the Public Theater, we can see Guillermo Calderon's absurdist comedy set in early 1905 in St. Petersburg (the one on the Neva River, of course). The woman in black pacing back and forth before the play begins is Olga Knipper (Bianca Amato), star of the Moscow Art Theater and widow of Anton Chekhov. She has accepted a guest role with a theater in Russia's capital and is waiting for a rehearsal to begin. The noble-born Aleko (Luke Robertson) and the revolutionary activist Masha (Quincy Tyler Bernstine) are the only other actors to arrive. The rest of the cast may or may not be victims of the Bloody Sunday riot which is under way. Dissatisfied with her own interpretation of her current role, Olga segues from the monologue in the play to her own monologue about the actor's need for love and acclaim. The border between acting and real life is a porous one. Olga enlists Aleko and Masha to reenact scenes from her life, including different version's of Chekhov's death and his sister's reaction to learning about his impending marriage. Masha closes the play with a showy monologue about the irrelevance of theater in a time of revolution. The play contains many lively, entertaining moments, but at times drifts aimlessly. The playwright directed, which is not always a good idea. The nimble translation is by Andrea Thome, herself a playwright. Susan Hilferty's black costumes blend well into the prevailing murk. No set designer is credited. A fight director, Thomas Schall, is listed although the play contains no fights. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

NOTE: I really dislike attending the Martinson Theater at the Public. Judging from the amount of time it takes to exit the theater and gain access to the only stairway to the street, I would not want to be there in an emergency.