Becky Nurse of Salem

C

When a MacArthur Fellow playwright (Sarah Ruhl) and a Tony-winning director (Rebecca Taichman) return to Lincoln Center Theater, scene of two of their earlier successes (The Oldest Boy, How To Transcend a Marriage), with a new play starring Tony winner (Deirdre O’Connell), expectations are going to be high. I regret to report that at the preview I saw today Ruhl’s odd dark comedy not only did not meet my expectations, but did not even engage my interest. Becky Nurse, a descendant of Rebecca Nurse, who was hanged as a witch in 1692, is a 62-year-old woman who works as a tour guide at Salem’s Museum of Witchcraft. She is someone who goes through life shooting herself in the foot. Her failure to stick to the script for the museum tour gets her fired by the museum’s uptight director Shelby (Tina Benko). Her teen-aged granddaughter Gail (Alicia Crowder) whom she has been raising, is currently hospitalized for depression. Gail’s mother died from an opioid overdose and grandma is secretly addicted too. Becky’s only friend seems to be noble barkeep Bob (Bernard White), who had been her high school boyfriend but married someone else. Becky disapproves of Gail’s new friend Stan (Julian Sanchez), a Wiccan who introduces Becky to a modern witch (Candy Buckley) for help solving her problems. Complications arise. Becky goes to jail and has visions of the original Salem trials. Thomas Jay Ryan doubles as jailer and judge. The game actors are committed to their roles. Riccardo Hernandez's minimalist set has rolling modules that efficiently set the scene. I could have done without the jail-cell toilet. Emily Rebholz's costumes are apt.The script mixes a look at Salem’s complicated relationship to its history, a response to Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, a nod to the mania of Trumpism, a superficial exploration of witchcraft and a cautionary tale about opioid addiction. The mix does not blend well. I was left wondering what the point was. On the plus side, it provides employment for a lot of talented people. Running time: two hours, five minutes including intermission.

Toni Stone

C+

It’s an interesting coincidence that “Toni Stone” and “A Strange Loop” have arrived in New York within a few weeks of each other because in some ways they form a pair of bookends. Both shows have a talented all-black ensemble that includes one woman and several men, with the men playing a variety of characters of diverse age, race and gender. Both have protagonists who are surrounded by unsupportive people. Both shows are enhanced by first-rate choreography. Both have lead actors who are giving a memorable performance. However, while the hero of “A Strange Loop” has trouble finding a clear goal, the title character in “Toni Stone,” a Roundabout commission, knows exactly what she wants — to be a professional baseball player. Based on a biography by Martha Ackmann, the show depicts moments in her interesting life from childhood in the Twin Cities to her years with the Indianapolis Clowns, the Negro League team where she replaced Hank Aaron. Playwright Lydia R. Diamond (Smart People, Stick Fly) tells Stone’s story out of sequence. At the beginning, she is already with the Clowns. The backward and forward movement from that point does not always make clear what period we are observing. The other actors play her teammates as well as her priest, a racist coach, a friendly prostitute and her much older suitor, among others. The play vividly captures what it was like to be a Negro League ballplayer in the racist 1950’s when the league was struggling to hold onto an audience as its best players were hired away by major league teams. Its biggest flaw is that there is far more telling than showing. There are many long monologues, particularly in the first act, that slow the momentum. Fortunately, after intermission the pace picks up and the anecdotes, while sometimes only loosely connected, are more interesting. The impressive April Matthis (Fairview, Antlia Pneumatica) makes Stone a sympathetic character. The supporting cast — Eric Berryman (The B-Side), Harry Blanks (Jitney), Phillip James Brannon (JUNK, Log Cabin), Daniel J. Bryant, Jonathan Burke (Choir Boy), Toney Goins, Kenn E. Head and Ezra Knight (Mean Girls) — is uniformly strong. A stylized baseball scene choreographed by Camille A. Brown (Choir Boy, Once on This Island) is a knockout. The set by Riccardo Hernandez (Frankie & Johnny…, Indecent) is dominated by five banks of stadium lights that extend into the auditorium and three sections of bleacher seats. Dede Ayite’s (By the Way, Meet Vera Stark; BLKS) costumes are apt. The lighting design by Allen Lee Hughes (Intimate Apparel, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolff) was a bit hyperactive. Pam MacKinnon’s (Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolff, Clybourne Park) direction is assured. As social history, I found the play informative; as theater, it was less than compelling. If you are a baseball fan or a history buff, you are more likely to enjoy it. Running time: two hours 15 minutes including intermission.

Frankie & Johnny in the Clair de Lune

B

This limited-run Broadway revival of Terrence McNally’s 1987 romantic dramedy has been cast with two fine actors with big box office appeal, Audra McDonald (Master Class, Carousel, Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar & Grill) as Frankie and Michael Shannon (Killer Joe, Bug, Long Day’s Journey into Night) as Johnny. To see them together as a 40-something waitress and short-order cook on a memorable first date is an opportunity that is hard to resist. The setting is Frankie’s one-room Hell’s Kitchen apartment and the time is the 1980’s. As the play opens, they are in the final throes of vigorous sex. What Frankie regards as just an enjoyable toss in the hay is regarded by Johnny as the start of a serious romance. During most of the first act, Johnny very persistently tries to win Frankie over. Late in the act, he calls the music station they are listening to and asks the host to play the most romantic piece ever written. They are gazing at the full moon and listening to the titular piece as the first act ends. Part of me wishes that McNally (Love! Valour! Compassion!, Master Class) had ended the play there. The second act is repetitious and unruly and stretches the evening out too far. While I have unlimited admiration for Audra McDonald, her glamour and melodious voice work against her playing the beat-down Frankie. Michael Shannon is very much in his element. I thought they captured the play’s humor better than its pathos. I did not like the gimmicky set by Richard Hernandez (Indecent, The Gin Game) in which the backdrop is the exterior of the apartment building rather than the interior walls of Frankie’s apartment. The costumes by Emily Rebholz (Indecent, Dear Evan Hansen) do not grab attention. Arin Arbus’s (The Winter’s Tale, The Skin of Our Teeth) direction is a bit sluggish. The play would benefit from a 15-minute trim. I was lucky enough to have seen the 2002 revival with Edie Falco and Stanley Tucci. For me, that version remains the gold standard. Those who have not seen the play before will probably enjoy this production unless they are uncomfortable with nudity and rough language. Running time: two hours 20 minutes including intermission.

Light Shining in Buckinghamshire

I

I can only comment on the first act of Caryl Churchill’s problematic 1976 play about mid-17th century England because I fled the theater at intermission. After Rachel Chavkin’s great success directing Hadestown at New York Theatre Workshop, she was apparently given free reign to choose her next project there. Unfortunately for us, she chose Churchill’s long, preachy, basically undramatic treatment of the political-religious background of the English Civil War. The choice is especially surprising because NYTW already presented the play once before in 1991. In the first act, the intrepid cast of six — Vinie Burrows, Rob Campbell, Matthew Jeffers, Mikéah Ernest Jennings, Gregg Mozgala and Evelyn Spahr — portray a variety of characters whose lives illustrate the enormous social injustices of the era. The act concludes with a reenactment of key moments of the Putney Debates, an unsuccessful attempt to agree on a more equitable constitution. The ongoing struggle for greater social justice is certainly still relevant for us today, but perhaps one has to be British to fully appreciate this play. For me it was sheer tedium. Director Chavkin is not at the top of her game. The production dresses the characters in period-appropriate costumes (by Toni-Leslie James) but conspicuously mixes in such modern props as plastic shopping bags, a cellphone, a Coke bottle and a cardboard coffee cup. For no particular reason, the actors speak mostly through microphones. An electric signboard above the spare set (by Riccardo Hernandez) provides useful information to introduce each scene but remains on with distracting open captioning of the actors’ every word. And words there are aplenty. I could not abide the thought of sitting through another 1 1/2 hours of them. Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes including 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.

Miss You Like Hell

C

Take some social issues — an unforgiving immigration policy, a broken justice system, suicidal teenage depression, Latin pride, same-sex marriage — add music, shake lightly, sprinkle with a dash of feminism, and you might end up with something like the new musical at the Public Theater. The book by Pulitzer winner Quiara Alegria Hudes (In the Heights, Water by the Spoonful) is actually a reworking and musicalization of her earlier play 26 Miles. The two principal characters are Beatriz (Daphne Rubin-Vega; Daphne's Dive, Rent), an undocumented immigrant from Mexico, and Olivia (Gizel Jimenez; Party People), the 16-year-old daughter she had with an Anglo-American. Olivia lives with her father in Philadelphia and has not seen her mother in four years since Beatriz took off for California. Beatriz suddenly shows up in the middle of the night, allegedly to spend a week with her daughter after reading her suicidal threats on her blog “Castaways.” Her ulterior motive is to get Olivia to California to testify as a character witness in her final hearing before possible deportation. How a 16-year-daughter who hasn’t seen her mother in four years could serve as a plausible character witness is one of the weakest plot points. Olivia reluctantly agrees on the condition that they stop at Yellowstone so she can meet Pearl (Latoya Edwards; Polkadots), a young park ranger who is a loyal reader of her blog. Along the way they meet Higgins (David Patrick Kelly; Once) and Mo (Michael Mulheren; Kiss Me, Kate), a gay couple who are on a mission to renew their vows in all 50 states, and Manuel (Danny Bolero; In the Heights), a widowed tamale vendor. The diverse ensemble cast also includes Marinda Anderson, Andrew Cristi, Shawna M. Hamic and Marcus Paul James. Ms. Rubin-Vega and Ms. Jimenez are both quite strong in their roles. The music by Erin McKeown, in a variety of generic styles, is serviceable. The scenic design by Riccardo Hernandez (Indecent, The Invisible Hand) reconfigures the Newman Theater to offer a deep square stage platform with two rows of audience seats on the sides and seats for the performers at the rear. Emilio Sosa (On Your Feet!, Sex with Strangers) has costumed the characters aptly. The lighting design by Tyler Micoleau is important to varying the mood. Lear deBessonet (The Tempest, Venus) directed. I really wanted to like it, but was disappointed that it did not offer any real illumination on the many issues it touched on. Honesty requires that I report that most of the audience seemed quite enthusiastic. Running time: one hour 40 minutes, no intermission.

Admissions

A-

The double-edged title of this provocative new play by Joshua Harmon (Bad Jews, Significant Other) at Lincoln Center Theater refers not only to choosing college students but to acknowledging the gap between behavior and ideals. The setting is Hillcrest School, a New Hampshire prep school where Sherri Rosen-Mason (Jessica Hecht; The Price, The Assembled Parties) is dean of admissions, her husband Bill Mason (Andrew Garman; The Christians, The Moors) is headmaster and their son Charlie Luther Mason (Ben Edelman; Significant Other) is a bright senior. Sherri is proud that in her 15 years on her job she has tripled minority enrollment. In the first scene, she harshly berates Roberta (Ann McDonough; Dinner at Eight, What I Did Last Summer), a drolly passive-aggressive, older, long-time employee responsible for publishing the school bulletin for not including enough photos of minority students. We next meet her close friend Ginnie Peters (Sally Murphy; A Man of No Importance, LCT’s Carousel), a white woman married to a biracial man and mother of the unseen Perry, Charlie’s best friend since early childhood. When Yale accepts Perry but places Charlie on the deferred list, Charlie is humiliated. The 15-minute rant he delivers about the disadvantaged status of the white male besieged by affirmative action and feminism is the play’s dramatic highlight. Bill is horrified that his son has not absorbed the liberal values on which he was raised and calls him a spoiled brat. Sherri casts aside her professional views and behaves like any sympathetic mother. Her friendship with Ginnie is put to the test when Sherri does not rebuke her son for saying that Perry’s acceptance was racially motivated. Later, Charlie reflects on his situation and decides to pursue a sacrificial course of action more in accord with his parents’ values. Instead of pleasing them, this infuriates them and they do all they can to undermine his decision. Harmon has cleverly plotted the proceedings to show how noble intentions can be overruled when personal advantage is threatened. The dialogue is sharp and the balance between satire and realism is mostly successful. A few scenes run a bit longer than necessary. The cast brings the characters vividly to life vividly. Jessica Hecht avoids the mannerisms that sometimes mar her performances. Ben Edelman shows great promise. Ann McDonough is a delight. Riccardo Hernandez’s (Parade, Indecent) set combines Sherri’s office and home. The location of her desk right in the center with her home furniture around the edges suggests that her job is central to her life. I was sitting in the front row and the presence of actors shouting less than two feet away was a bit startling. Toni-Leslie James’s (Come from Away, Jitney) costumes are apt. Director Daniel Aukin (Bad Jews, 4000 Miles, Fulfillment Center) shows a real affinity for Harmon’s work, which, to me, has been improving with each new play. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

Jesus Hopped the 'A' Train

B+

What a valuable service Signature Theatre’s Residency Program performs by giving us the opportunity to look back at the early works of leading contemporary playwrights to see how their talent has grown. This 2000 drama by Stephen Adly Guirgis contains the promising elements of his later plays (The Motherfucker with the Hat, Between Riverside and Crazy), but they are not yet as masterfully controlled. The black humor and marvelous urban patois are present, but are not well-blended with the long monologues and debates about morality, religion and justice. Most of the action takes place in the outdoor recreation area where prisoners under protective custody at Rikers Island are let out of their cells for an hour once a day. We meet Angel Cruz (Sean Carvajal), a 30-year-old bike messenger who is on trial for the death of the preacher of a cult-like church whom he blames for stealing his lifelong best friend. In the adjoining cage is Lucius Jenkins (Edi Gathegi), a charismatic serial killer who is awaiting extradition to Florida where he will be executed. Lucius has found God and been reborn. Although he takes responsibility for his actions, he still fears execution. We meet two guards. The first, Charlie D’Amico (Erick Betancourt), is soon fired for doing a variety of favors for Lucius. His replacement, Valdez (Ricardo Chavira), is not likely to show anyone a kindness. Angel is hostile to Mary Jane Hanrahan (Stephanie DiMaggio), the public defender who has been assigned his case. We learn enough about her background to understand why she became a public defender and why she might find Angel sympathetic despite his verbal abuse. Lucius, on the other hand, begins relentlessly haranguing Angel to take responsibility for the death he inadvertently caused. A cloud of implacability hangs overhead with no infraction, however minor, likely to go unpunished. The actors, particularly Carvajal and Gathegi, are marvelous. The set design by Riccardo Hernandez (Indecent) is appropriately bleak as are the costumes by Dede M. Ayite (The Royale). The direction by Mark Brokaw (Heisenberg, The Lyons) is assured and mostly succeeds in making the monologues flow into the rest of play. If you have a low tolerance for rough language or the description of violent events, you might be uncomfortable. Running time: two hours 10 minutes including intermission.

The Death of the Last Black Man in the Whole Entire World a/k/a The Negro Book of the Dead ** C

Seeing Suzan-Lori Parks’s Father Comes Home from the War, Parts 1, 2 & 3 was one of the highlights of my theater-going year in 2014, so I was eagerly awaiting Signature Theatre’s revival of this early work from 1990. Be careful what you wish for. According to the ushers, the running time was 80 minutes; it actually came in at 67 minutes. Let’s just say that I was not sorry that it ended 13 minutes sooner than expected. In principle, I admire the decision to mount such a complex, significant work, but in actuality I found it tough to sit through. The cast of 11, led by the talented Roslyn Ruff as Black Woman With Fried Drumstick and Daniel J. Watts as Black Man With Watermelon, perform with total commitment. I found the structure, in which the play is divided into panels and choruses, the titles of which are projected on the rear wall, confusing. The dialog has a lyrical, almost incantatory quality at times with many phrases and sentences returning, often with slight variation as in jazz. I got that the central character repeatedly dies, by electrocution, hanging and other unpleasant means and understood the plea that black history should not be allowed to remain undocumented and therefore become lost. I grasped why Ham (Patrena Murray), the source of biblical justification for animus against blacks, is a character. Ditto for Old Man River Jordan (Julian Rozzell) as well as And Bigger and Bigger and Bigger (Reyanldo Piniella), an allusion to Native Son. But why Before Columbus (David Ryan Smith) and Queen-Then-Pharaoh Hatshepsut (Amelia Workman)? I missed the apparent allusion of a character named Yes and Greens Black-Eyed Peas Cornbread (Nike Kadri) or one called Lots of Grease and Lots of Pork (Jamar Williams) or Prunes and Prisms (Mirirai Sithole.) Calling one the Voice on Thuh Tee V (William Demeritt) seemed pointless. The significance of breaking eggs and eating feathers was lost on me. There are some funny moments, including a scene that’s a worthy riff on Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s On First.” The choreography by Raja Feather Kelly provided some of the most enjoyable moments. Riccardo Hernandez’s set design is effectively spare. Montana Blanco’s costumes are wonderful. Lileana Blain-Cruz’s direction is fluid. What the play lacks in coherence, it almost makes up for in sheer energy. Unfortunately for me, I prefer coherence. 

Notes from the Field *** B-

Anna Deavere Smith’s latest foray into “first person documentary storytelling,” now at Second Stage Theatre, is about the failure of our education and criminal justice systems, which have created a school-to-prison pipeline for youth from poor communities. As she did so memorably in “Fires in the Mirror” and “Twilight: Los Angeles,” she impersonates a diverse array of people related to an event or social problem and brings us their own words verbatim. Before the evening begins, a grim series of statistics about racial inequities in our schools and so-called justice system is projected on six large panels, putting me in a funk before Ms. Smith even reached the stage. The 18 scenes of excerpts from interviews and speeches that followed were intercut with photographs and video clips of some of the most egregious examples of racial bias in recent years. Some of the moments were painful to relive. Much attention is devoted to the death of Freddie Gray in Baltimore. The sermon at Gray’s funeral is one of the most powerful sections of the evening. Stockton and Klamath, CA and Columbia, SC are the locales of some other important pieces. Although there is an attempt to shed a ray of hope at the end of the evening, I did not find it convincing or comforting. The scenic design by Riccardo Hernandez and projections by Elaine McCarthy are effective. Some of Ann Hould-Ward’s costume choices are peculiar: I have no idea why Smith’s slacks in the first act had worn-through patches or why she was barefoot. For some stretches of the evening, bassist Marcus Shelby is onstage with Ms. Smith, to little effect. Some of the dialects and intonations came across as artificial: I have never heard anyone say “impurr” instead of “impair.” The material lacked a clear arc and some of the excerpts should have been trimmed. Leonard Foglia directed. While most of the audience responded enthusiastically, several people near me did not return after intermission. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes including intermission.

Indecent ***

Borrowing from “Shuffle Along,” I could say that “Indecent” might well be subtitled  “The Making of the Broadway Sensation of 1923 and All That Followed.” Pulitzer-winner Paula Vogel has written a complex, ambitious work, “created by” herself and director Rebecca Taichman, about the rocky history of “God of Vengeance,” Sholem Asch’s controversial 1907 play. The melodramatic story of a Jewish brothel owner whose daughter falls in love with one of his prostitutes, the play’s second act contains the notorious “rain scene” that shows the tender love between the two women. The depiction of Jews as pimps and prostitutes and the desecration of a torah in the final scene made the play problematic. After a striking opening image, the present play takes us from Asch’s play’s raucous first reading at a Warsaw salon for Yiddish writers through its success in several European capitals to its move to the Bowery, then on to Greenwich Village. To secure an English-language production on Broadway, the producer, much to the devoted cast’s dismay, excised the rain scene. Nevertheless, inflamed by condemnation by the rabbi of Temple Emmanuel, the city closed the play down after one performance and successfully tried the cast and producer for obscenity. Asch neither protested the play’s mutilation nor attended the trial to defend the loyal cast. Allegedly, he had just returned from a mission to Eastern Europe and was too traumatized by what he saw there to care much about what happened to his play. The transformative power of his play on the devoted cast who perform it for so many years is in stark contrast with Asch’s loss of interest in it. I fear that the present play attempts to tell too many stories at once: the importance of Yiddish literature and especially Yiddish theater, the bonds within a theater troupe, the positive presentation of lesbianism, the fear of encouraging anti-Semitism, the difficulties of assimilation, fragments of Asch’s long career and the tragic loss of a Yiddish audience. The playwright posits a final performance of Asch’s play in an attic in the Lodz Ghetto. The entire cast is superb: Richard Topol is Lemml, the stage manager. The other actors — Katrina Lenk, Mimi Lieber, Max Gordon Moore, Tom Nelis, Steven Rattazzi and Adina Verson — all play multiple roles and succeed in making us care about characters that are not that fully developed. The production is greatly enhanced by a trio of klezmer musicians and choreography by David Dorfman. The set by Riccardo Hernandez is simple but effective and Emily Rebholz’s costumes are appropriate. While there is much to admire in this production at Vineyard Theatre, the many elements did not cohere as well as I would have liked. Perhaps my expectations were too high because of my high regard for the previous work of both the playwright and the director. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission. NOTE: Do not get front row seats because the stage is very high.

Red Speedo **

Now in previews at New York Theatre Workshop, this new play by Lucas Hnath (The Christians) addresses several issues that arise from our obsession with competitive sports, such as the commodification of athletes, the cultivation of athletic prowess to the exclusion of all else, the temptation of performance enhancing drugs and the relentless pursuit of self-interest regardless of harm to others. A strong case of pathological sibling codependency overlays the other issues. Ray (Alex Breaux) is an Olympic hopeful swimmer, whose success has come at the cost of intellectual and emotional stuntedness. His brightest idea has been to get a hideous tattoo on his back to make him more easily recognizable by television viewers. He has a great entrance in the titular swimwear, plunging into the one-lane pool with a plexiglas wall that fills the front of the set. His sleazy older brother Peter (Lucas Caleb Rooney) is also his attorney and his would-be agent. When a stash of drugs is found in the team locker room’s refrigerator, Peter tries to persuade Coach (Peter Jay Fernandez) to look the other way until after the Olympic trials so that Jay’s tentative endorsement contract with Speedo will not be threatened. Jay’s ex-girlfriend Lydia (Zoe Winters) has lost her sports therapy license, partially due to some unethical behavior by Peter. Many plots and counterplots collide. Unfortunately the play sheds far more heat than light. The lack of a sympathetic character is not necessarily fatal to my interest in a play, but it certainly doesn’t help that there is no one to root for here. Breaux looks the part and is quite convincing as Jay. Rooney’s portrayal of Peter has only one note — extremely annoying. Fernandez is OK as the coach. Winters doesn’t get much chance to make an impression. Kudos to set designer Riccardo Hernandez for a convincing set. Boos to sound designer Matt Tierney for the loud horn blasts between scenes. Fight coordinator Thomas Schall has done wonders — rarely have I seen onstage brawling that was so realistic. Director Lileana Blain-Cruz does her best with an unsatisfactory ending. Running time: 80 minutes; no intermission. NOTE: I do not recommend seats in the first two rows, because you are below the level of the pool deck.

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.

The Invisible Hand ****

When your first play to reach New York wins a Pulitzer, can things only go downhill from there? After seeing Ayad Akhtar’s gripping new thriller, now in previews at New York Theatre Workshop, I can report that, in his case, the answer is an emphatic “No.” Nick Bright (Justin Kirk) is a mid-level American banker who has been erroneously kidnapped by a militant group in Pakistan. They were after his boss, but he was filling in for him that day. The huge ransom they are demanding is far more than the bank thinks he is worth, so he is stuck in captivity. His captor is the volatile Bashir (Usman Ally), British born and raised, who left England to fight in Pakistan where he has become a follower of the charismatic Imam Saleem (Dariush Kashani). Nick has befriended his guard Dar (Jameal Ali) and even taught him some rudimentary economics that yield a bit of extra income. When it becomes clear that the bank will never pay his ransom, Nick suggests raising the amount himself by some tricky trading using an offshore account of his. Bashar initially objects, but the imam agrees. Since they will not allow him near a computer, Nick has to teach Bashir how to make the trades. Bashir proves to be an able student. The twists and turns that follow kept me on the edge of my seat. Who knew that high finance could be so dramatic? The play is not only exciting but so topical it could be ripped from today’s headlines. Akhtar provides insight into what turns a British Muslim into a militant, how militant groups are becoming more sophisticated about fundraising and how American influence can be both beneficent and corrupting. While the entire cast is strong, Ally’s Bashir is absolutely mesmerizing; I defy you to take your eyes off of him. Director Ken Rus Schmoll has paced the action skillfully. Riccardo Hernandez’s scenic design, featuring lots of corrugated metal and fluorescent lighting that extends over the audience, is effective, as are ESOSA’s costumes. This was a highlight of my theatergoing for 2014. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.

February House **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
The Public Theater is to be commended for commissioning Gabriel Kahane, an up-and-coming singer/songwriter, to write music and lyrics for a musical based on life at 7 Middagh Street in 1940-41. The flamboyantly gay editor George Davis hoped to turn a rundown Victorian house in Brooklyn Heights into a communal home for an unlikely bunch of talented misfits that included W.H. Auden, Carson McCullers, Benjamin Britten and Gypsy Rose Lee. Surely, the concept was a promising one. Unfortunately, the result is wildly uneven. In general, Kahane's lyrics are better than his music. The way he makes seamless transitions from dialog to song is admirable. Through words and music, the first act leisurely portrays the characters and their relationships. The second, livelier, act describes the loss of utopia. The cast of nine (Stanley Bahorek, Ken Barnett, Ken Clark, Julian Fleisher, Stephanie Hayes, Erik Lochtefeld, Kacie Sheik, A.J. Shively, Kristen Sieh) is mostly strong, although Sieh's voice lacks color. For me, the play's worst moments involved Gypsy Rose Lee. Her character is much too broadly written and played. It is unfortunate that they felt compelled to include a striptease number -- after the one in Gypsy, it was doomed to fall flat. The book, by Seth Bockley, could use some more tweaking. Riccardo Hernandez's set and Jess Goldstein's costumes are excellent. Director Davis McCallum as allowed the play to gain 20 minutes since previews began. They should be trimming, not adding. A book doctor might be able to make significant improvements. In the unlikely event you are not familiar with the past and future achievements of the house's residents, you probably will not find the play interesting. Even if you are, you still might not. Nevertheless, I am glad I saw it and support the Public for taking it on. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes including intermission.