Clyde's

 A-

Twice Pulitzer-awarded playwright Lynn Nottage (Ruined, Sweat) wrote this comedy with serious overtones and a touch of magic realism at the same time that she was working on Sweat. Both share a Reading, PA setting but are otherwise quite different. Clyde’s (formerly called Floyd’s when it premiered at the Guthrie Theater in 2019) is the name of the roadside sandwich shop owned by the titular character (Uzo Aduba, Godspell, “In Treatment”). All her employees have been recently released from jail. Taking full advantage of the fact that they are desperate, she treats them abominably and tries to squeeze any drop of hope out of them. We meet Letitia (Kara Young, Halfway Bitches Go Straight to Heaven), a young single mother with a chronically ill child; Rafael (Reza Salazar; Sweat, My Mañana Comes), a romantic Latino; newly hired Jason (Edmund Donovan, Greater Clements, Lewiston/Clarkson), who is covered with gang tattoos; and Montrellous (Ron Cephas Jones, “This Is Us,” “Mr. Robot”), an older man of philosophic bent who inspires the others with his quest for the perfect sandwich. We learn the backstory of each employee. As they work, they describe to each other their vision of sandwich perfection and occasionally make one for the others to try. Significantly, Clyde refuses to try any of Montrellous’s creations. The acting is universally superb. The set by Takeshi Kata (Cambodian Rock Band), lighting by Christopher Akerlind (Indecent, The Last Ship) and costumes by Jennifer Moeller (Sweat, Aubergine) contribute greatly to this Second Stage production. Kate Whoriskey, who has often demonstrated her affinity for Nottage’s work before (Ruined, Sweat, Intimate Apparel), directs with smooth precision. The ending will definitely get your attention. A word of caution: don’t attend when you are hungry — the rapturous descriptions of ideal sandwiches will have you salivating. (Running time 100 minutes, no intermission.)

Storefront Church ***

(Please click on the title to see the full review.) 
The final installment of John Patrick Shanley's Church and State trilogy, now in previews at the newly reopened Atlantic Theater mainstage, is quite different from the other two plays, first of all in length. It has two leisurely acts over two hours as compared to their economical 90 minutes. Although not as good as Doubt (not many plays are), it is much better than Defiance. Actors must love Shanley; he certainly can write a juicy part. All six actors get a chance to shine here. Tonya Pinkins, who made such a strong impression in both Milk Like Sugar and Hurt Village earlier this season, gets to use a Spanish accent and show off her beautiful singing voice. Poor Zach Grenier has to keep his face grotesquely contorted throughout the play. The role of Pinkins's Jewish husband fits Bob Dishy like a glove. Ron Cephas Jones, who also impressed in Hurt Village, portrays a pentecostal minister who is spiritually blocked. Jordan Lage is both amusing and convincing as a bank CEO. The central character is Giancarlo Esposito, as the Bronx borough president. The action takes place at the intersection of politics, religion and commerce. It is loosely based on the controversy over redeveloping the Kingsbridge Armory in the Bronx (which still sits empty today), as well as the current mortgage crisis. The play has its flaws -- it rambles a bit, some of the motivations are unclear (particular those of Pinkins' character), some of the themes are underdeveloped and the final scene doesn't pack as much punch as I hoped it would. The sets by Takeshi Kata are bland, perhaps deliberately so, but the costumes by Alejo Vietti are perfect. Shanley's direction is assured. and full of grace notes.  Although far from perfect, it is consistently entertaining. I urge you to see it.