Norma Jeane Baker of Troy

D

To launch the Griffin Theater, the 500-seat black-box in The Shed at Hudson Yards, Artistic Director Alex Poots has commissioned a theatrical piece by Canadian poet and classicist Anne Carson that conflates the stories of Helen of Troy and Marilyn Monroe. Ms. Carson calls it a melologue — a monologue that alternates speech and song. Actor Ben Whishaw (The Crucible) and singer Renée Fleming (Carousel) are the cast. The play opens on a large nondescript office at night. A nervous man arrives, unpacks his briefcase and posts some photos of Ms. Monroe on an easel. A radio informs us that it is New Year’s Eve 1963. The man is soon joined by a matronly woman who is apparently a stenographer. Why they are working at that hour on a holiday is the least of the play’s puzzles. The man begins to dictate a script, complete with punctuation. In his play, he follows Euripides’s version of Helen, in which only a cloud representing her actually goes to Troy. The man occasionally interrupts the loose narrative with chapters from a history of war, from which one take-away is “it’s a disaster to be a girl.” After remaining silent for roughly the first half-hour, the woman begins to sing fragments that often recapitulate the man’s remarks. Unfortunately Paul Clark’s score does not give Fleming’s luscious voice much chance to shine although there is an occasional vocal thrill. We encounter Truman Capote (as impersonated by Monroe), Pearl Bailey and Fritz Lang, among others. Husband Arthur Miller is referred to as the king of Sparta and New York. Persephone is also mentioned. As the story, such as it is, unfolds, the man paints his nails, applies false eyelashes, gradually strips to his underwear, puts on a bustier, high heels and finally a blonde wig and the famous dress from “The Seven Year Itch.” As he does so, he pops pills, drinks champagne and eventually curls up on a desk. All this might have been more interesting if it had been more visible. Alex Eales’s set, which Anthony Doran has lit by only a few desk lamps and an easel light, is so dark that one never really gets a good look at the actors. Early reports said that many audience members left during the play. I only saw two. One reason might be that the theater is so completely dark that it is dangerous to try to leave. I cannot comment on Katie Mitchell’s direction because I have no idea what the author was aiming for. As to Sussie Juhlin-Wallén’s costumes, I could barely see them. All in all, it was a dreary evening. Mr. Poots, who was artistic director of Park Avenue Armory, intends to make The Shed a home for adventurous commissioned works. I wish him well. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Carousel

B-

Whether or not to see Carousel was a close call for me. Much as I admire the gorgeous score, I hate the book with its treatment of violence toward women. Curiosity to see whether an infusion of talent from New York City Ballet would matter and whether the book could be made more palatable for the #MeToo era tipped the balance so, when the show turned up on TDF, I decided to take the plunge. For me, the answer to the first question is a resounding yes. While choreographer Justin Peck has done a lot of fine work and NYCB soloist Brittany Pollack makes a fine Louise, the real revelation for me was NYCB principal Amar Ramasar, whose Jigger is a magnetic presence who commands attention. The sailors’ dance he leads to “Blow High, Blow Low” is one of the show’s highlights. He probably doesn’t have the voice for it, but I found myself wishing that he had been cast as Billy because he is far more charismatic than Joshua Henry (Violet, The Scotsboro Boys), whose Billy I found competent but unmemorable. As to the book, this production did nothing to make the element of domestic abuse less distasteful, at least for me. Nevertheless, there is much to admire. The glorious voices of Jessie Mueller (Waitress, Beautiful) as Julie Jordan and Renée Fleming (Living on Love) as her cousin Nettie Fowler do full justice to the wonderful songs and Ms. Fleming also exudes a welcome warmth. Lindsay Mendez (Significant Other, Dogfight) and Alexander Gemignani (Violet, Assassins) are wonderful as Carrie Pipperidge and Enoch Snow. Margaret Colin (Jackie: An American Life) is fierce as Mrs. Mullin. As the Starcatcher, John Douglas Thompson (Satchmo at the Waldorf, Jitney) has little chance to demonstrate his considerable talent; his silent appearances throughout the play seem a pointless distraction. The heavenly scene with the human gates is a bit kitschy. With an orchestra of 25, the music sounds lush, although I wish the volume had been reduced during the soliloquy. I was quite disappointed in Santo Loquasto’s (Hello, Dolly!) scenic design. A Carousel without a carousel is a letdown. One horse at the side of the stage doesn’t do it for me. Later we do get the top of a carousel that pops down from above like a huge inverted umbrella, but even that doesn’t revolve. Except for the elaborate background for the celestial scenes, the sets looked cheaper than what I would expect on Broadway. Ann Roth’s (Three Tall Women) costumes are rather bland. Director Jack O’Brien’s (The Coast of Utopia, Hairspray) concept of the play seems a bit muddled. To sum up, there are many strengths and many weaknesses in this Rodgers and Hammerstein revival. The bottom line is that, although I have many reservations about it, I am glad I didn’t miss it. Running time: two hours 40 minutes.