Our Lady of 121st Street

A-

Signature Theatre set the bar so high for their Stephen Adly Guirgis residency with last year’s first-rate production of his 2000 drama Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train that I was a bit apprehensive about whether they could maintain that high standard. I needn’t have worried. Their revival of this dark comedy from 2002 is every bit as good, if not better. This ensemble piece with twelve characters — and I do mean characters — is more like a series of connected sketches for pairs of actors than a plot-driven narrative, but with sketches that display Guirgis’s talent for writing inspiredly raunchy urban dialogue for a variety of damaged characters, that’s enough to keep me happy. A motley crew of past and present parishioners of a Harlem church have gathered for the wake of Sister Rose, a stern but loving nun who taught them all. The wake has been indefinitely postponed because someone has stolen Sister Rose’s body from the casket. We meet Victor (John Procaccino; Our Mother’s Brief Affair), an angry man whose pants were stolen while he slept; Balthazar (Joey Auzenne), an alcoholic cop; Rooftop (Hill Harper; Toast, Blue), an L.A. radio show host who abused his former wife Inez (Quincy Tyler Bernstine; The Amateurs); Father Lux (John Doman; The Other Thing), the priest who has to hear Rooftop’s first confession in 30 years; Flip (Jimonn Cole; X: Or, Betty Shabazz vs. The Nation), a closeted attorney who has brought along his less-than-butch lover Gail (Kevin Isola; Brooklyn Boy); [Why would any parent name their son Gail?] Norca (Paola Lazaro; To the Bone), a nasty woman with a short fuse; Edwin (Erick Betancourt; Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train), whose life is devoted to caring for his mentally disabled younger brother Pinky (Maki Borden; Inanimate); Marcia (Stephanie Kurtzuba; Billy Eilliot), Sister Rose’s neurotic niece; and Sonia (Dierdre Friel; Leap of Faith), whose reason for being there is hazy. As these characters engage, the ensuing dialogue is most often hilarious, although there are tender and sad moments as well. The actors are all solid. Mr. Harper and Ms. Kurtzuba are standouts in the showiest roles. Walt Spangler’s (Escape to Margaritaville) versatile set economically sets the mood. Alexis Forte’s (Between Riverside and Crazy) costumes are apt. Phylicia Rashad’s (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom) direction is smooth and assured. I was enjoying myself so thoroughly that I was taken aback by the play’s abrupt and rather downbeat ending. Compared to the play’s other achievements, this disappointment was a minor blemish. Running time: two hours including 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.

Peer Gynt **

Classic Stage Company’s new production directed and adapted by its incoming artistic director John Doyle is a case of too little Ibsen and too much Doyle. Up to a point, Doyle’s stripped-down version with just seven actors works, but there is so little specificity about location or identity of the characters that it all runs together into a blur. Perhaps Doyle thought this would give the play more universality, but I wasn’t buying it. Doyle’s signature tic of having the actors play instruments has become a cliche; fortunately, only two actors (Jane Pfitsch and George Abud) are so burdened in this production. Other directorial choices puzzled me — the character called The Undertaker (Adam Heller) speaks with a New York accent while The Mother (Becky Ann Baker) has a Southern accent. The usually fine Dylan Baker (The Doctor) and Quincy Tyler Bernstine (Solveig) do not have much opportunity to show their strengths. Not even the amazing performance by Gabriel Ebert as the title character is enough to hold things together. Doyle must have instructed him to downplay Peer Gynt’s age in the final scenes, which robs the play of some of its pathos. Nevertheless, Ebert is a wonder to behold. He is onstage for virtually the entire play and probably has 90% of the lines. This adaptation falls between two stools: it’s too long to sit comfortably through for two hours but too short to do justice to Ibsen. David L. Asenault’s scenic design features a raised rectangular platform with a step on each end. Ann Hould-Ward’s modern-dress costumes are stylish. The music for violin by Dan Moses Schreier is no threat to Grieg. I hope this production will not set the template for what we can expect during Doyle’s reign as artistic director. Running time: 2 hours, no intermission. NOTE: Avoid seats in the 200 section where you will often face the actors’ backs and in the front row of the two side sections which are benches with no arms or back.

10 out of 12 **

Is it a coincidence that two promising playwrights named “Anne” or “Annie” have written lengthy plays set in a workplace that involves show business? First Annie Baker gave us The Flick, about the employees of a run-down movie theater. Now Anne Washburn (Mr. Burns: a Post-Electric Play) has penned a sly comedy about the actors, creative staff and backstage crew preparing for the opening of a play in a downtown Manhattan theater not unlike Soho Rep, where the show is playing. The production’s concept is a clever one: each audience member is given a listening device to follow the conversations of stage manager (Quincy Tyler Bernstine) and crew during the upcoming play’s tech rehearsal. For those not in the know, in which group I include myself, the “tech” is a long, tedious process in which all the elements of the play including lighting, sound design, costumes and set are finalized. The play’s title refers to the union rule that people may not work more than 10 hours in a 12-hour period. The actors in the play-within-a play (Gibson Frazier, Nina Hellman, Sue Jean Kim, David Ross and Thomas Jay Ryan) must deal with a director (Bruce McKenzie) who makes Hamlet look decisive by comparison. As the long rehearsal drags on, the work falls further and further behind schedule. Boredom and fatigue take their toll. Tempers flare and egos burst. Seeing Ryan lose his cool is one of the play’s greatest pleasures. It all ends with a Kumbaya moment that seemed only partially earned. While I admired the concept, I had problems with the execution. There are frequent boring passages, which I realize is part of the point, but nevertheless taxed my patience. There were many entertaining moments too but the fractured structure never came together for me. David Zinn’s set and Asta Bennie Hostetter’s costumes work well and Les Waters’s direction is sharp. Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes including intermission.

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.

Mr. Burns, A Post-Electric Play **

Your reaction to Anne Washburn’s innovative play, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, may hinge on whether you are an avid fan of the animated TV series The Simpsons. Your familiarity with the characters will give you a head start in appreciating the plot. Washburn uses this popular cartoon series to show the important role pop culture plays in binding our society together. Much of the action focuses on an episode from the series’s fifth season called “Cape Feare,” a spoof of the twice-made Hollywood thriller. During the first act, survivors of a recent nuclear disaster sit around a campfire and pass the time by remembering lines from the show. In the second act, set seven years later, rival bands of roving performers survive by reenacting episodes from TV shows, complete with commercials. In the third act, set 75 years later, we see a stylized version of the “Cape Feare” episode in music and verse, presented as an inspirational pageant. The play was commissioned by The Civilians, a self-styled center for investigative theater; most of the cast (Quincy Tyler Bernstine, Susannah Flood, Gibson Frazier, Matthew Maher, Nedra McClyde, Jennifer R. Morris, Colleen Worthmann, Sam Breslin Wright) are associate artists of the group and director Steve Cosson is their artistic director. The play is enlivened by Michael Friedman’s music and Sam Pinkleton’s choreography. Neil Patel’s sets and Emily Rebholz’s costumes hit the mark. There is a terrific two-part theatrical effect at play’s end. I wish the first two acts were tightened up a bit: it’s a long slog to intermission and a smattering of people did not return. The final act ties many loose ends together, but it’s a long wait to get there. In case you were wondering, Mr. Burns is the name of Homer Simpson’s boss, the owner of the nuclear power plant responsible for the disaster. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes, including intermission.

Neva **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
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.