The Comeuppance

 C

My reaction to the works of playwright Brandon Jacobs-Jenkins has been mixed. Three enthusiastically received plays that I enjoyed very much (Appropriate, An Octoroon, Gloria) were followed by two that I did not (War, Everybody). It has been six years since he has had a new play on a New York stage. Now he is winding up his Signature Theatre residency with this puzzling play now in previews at the Alice Griffin Jewel Box Theatre. In it we meet five friends who, except for one, are celebrating their 20^th high school reunion. These four, the membership of the self-styled Multi Ethnic Reject Group, have gathered for a pre-reunion get-together on the porch of Ursula (Brittany Bradford, Bernhardt/Hamlet), an underdeveloped character distinguished mainly by the fact that she has become a recluse since losing her sight in one eye. Her female friends are the childless Caitlin (Susannah Flood, Birthday Candles), who married a bigoted cop with two children and Kristina (Shannon Tyo, Regretfully So the Birds Are), a doctor who got her medical education in the military. A good Catholic with five children, Kristina has seen a lot, both in the military and in the pandemic, and eases her pain with booze. She has unexpectedly brought along her cousin Paco (Bobby Moreno, 72 Miles To Go) whose military service left him with a bad case of untreated PTSD. Emilio (Caleb Eberhardt, Choir Boy), a trendy artist living in Berlin who is back in the States briefly to supervise an installation of his work at the Biennale, has not seen the others in 15 years. There is another character as well. Through electronically modified voices, each character, at some point in the play, takes on the role of Death. By the third go-round, I had to stifle a giggle, which I don't think was the desired effect. The play touches on a checklist of traumas that the group has experienced, including Columbine, 9/11, and January 6. Furthermore, many underlying tensions within the group surface as the play progresses. The problem for me was that none of the characters or situations was sufficiently interesting to justify rambling on for two hours and twenty minutes without an intermission. The actors were all fine and the direction by Eric Ting (The Far Country) was fluid. Arnulfo Maldonado’s (A Strange Loop) set creates the cozy front porch of a small house, complete with swing, Adirondack chair, lots of plants and a bug zapper. Jennifer Moeller’s (Camelot) costumes are all suitable to their characters. I was disheartened when Jacobs-Jenkins decamped for the greener pastures of Hollywood to become showrunner, executive producer and writer for a Hulu series. Alas, his new play does not make his return to the stage cause for celebration.

Octet

B-

Dave Malloy is the first musical writer to be included in Signature Theatre Company’s residency program and this is Signature’s first musical. Malloy (Preludes; Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812) is responsible for the music, lyrics, book and vocal arrangements. I suppose that success in three out of four is still admirable. The relative failure, in my humble opinion, is the book, which I found confusing, uneven, rambling and a bit pretentious. A two-sided insert in the program gives an eclectic list of Malloy’s inspirations. The eight marvelous singing actors (Adam Bashian, Kim Blanck, Starr Busby, Alex Gibson, Justin Gregory Lopez, J.D. Mollison, Margo Seibert and Kuhoo Verma) play members of a support group for internet addicts cryptically called “Friends of Saul,“ the name of the mysterious group recruiter that none of them has met. Their addictions include gaming, porno, dating apps, venting on sociopolitical sites, out-of-control information seeking and watching videos. In an extended detour during the second half, there is a section about the effects of the possible appearance of the deity on a group of scientists. Tarot also plays a role — each of the 12 songs is linked to a tarot card. (My confusion about the link to tarot was increased by the fact that I initially misheard the word as terror.) In only one of the songs does the internet play a positive role by linking a group member to someone just like her. For me the side trips into mysticism and spirituality detracted from rather than added to the book’s strength. The book’s shortcomings are, in large measure, balanced by the strength of the music, sung by excellent singers in creative a cappella arrangements. There are five group numbers and seven extended solos. The scenic design by Amy Bloom (Thom Pain) and Brittany Vasta (Happy Birthday Wanda June) realistically recreates a church social hall complete with the bingo equipment that must be stowed by the actors before the session begins. Brenda Abbandandolo’s (Continuity) costumes do not call attention to themselves. Much credit is due to music supervisor/director Or Matias (Natasha, Pierre…, Preludes). Annie Tippe’s (Ghost Quartet) direction tries too hard to enliven the proceedings. In short, I admired the show more than I enjoyed it. Honesty compels me to report that younger members of the audience responded with vociferous enthusiasm. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission. 

Boesman and Lena

B-

In a review of the 2000 film based on Athol Fugard’s (Blood Knot, “Master Harold” …and the Boys) searing drama, the Variety critic expressed the thought that the work managed the difficult feat of recalling both “Waiting for Godot” and “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” There is at least a grain of truth in this observation. In this Signature Theatre production, the set’s barren landscape with one dead tree certainly could be shared by Beckett’s play and both works are about a pair condemned to endless wandering. Like Albee’s couple, Fugard’s is a codependent pair prone to provoking each other. Boesman and Lena are coloureds, i.e. of mixed race, whose life in apartheid South Africa is a living hell. The policy of forced removals has turned them into domestic refugees with no prospects for a settled life. Watching a day in their life is almost unbearably painful. We meet them on a mud flat after their most recent shantytown has been demolished by the government. Exhausted after a long day of walking with most of their worldly goods on her head, Lena voices her unhappiness and begs for some wine, to Boesman’s deaf ear. We learn that he has mostly come to ignore her when he is not taking out his frustration with life by beating on her. They have been together for several years and had one child who lived for six months and several stillbirths. As they set up their lean-to, Lena sees someone approaching and, against Boesman’s wishes, invites him to join them. Their guest turns out to be a frail, elderly Xhosa tribesman, whose language they do not understand. Nevertheless, out of her fierce desire for companionship, Lena welcomes him as someone to listen to her. Boesman is not happy about it. Will Lena’s accumulation of grievances against Boesman lead her to finally leave him? The main strength of this production is the acting. Zainab Jah (Venus, Eclipsed) is superb as Lena and Thomas Silcott (Coming Home) is haunting as the old man. Sahr Ngaujah (Fela!, Mlima’s Tale) is a bit problematic; his Boesman is so relentlessly unpleasant that there is no inkling of why Lena would ever have been drawn to him. I don’t know whether the problem is in the script or in the performance. Susan Hilferty’s (Wicked, Into the Woods) costumes and bleak set are evocative. I have qualms about a few decisions by director Yaël Farber (London: Salomé, The Crucible). Having the pair wander through the audience before the play actually begins was not particularly effective and merely slowed things down. The decision to eliminate the intermission may have been determined more by fear of audience attrition than by artistic considerations. Two hours without a break was a challenge for my powers of concentration. It would have been helpful to have a few program notes about the prevailing racial stratification under apartheid as well as a short glossary of frequently used Afrikaans words. In today’s era of abused refugees, the play is all too timely. It is also one of the most depressing plays I have ever seen. Running time: two hours; no intermission.

Thom Pain (based on nothing)

C

It has been 13 years since playwright Will Eno (The Open House, The Realistic Joneses) took New York by storm with this extended monologue that received an ecstatic review from then Times critic Charles Isherwood, who described it as “stand-up existentialism” and dubbed Eno “a Samuel Beckett for the Jon Stewart generation.” The play became a hot ticket, a Pulitzer contender, and the topic of heated arguments at cocktail parties. I was not one of its fans, but could not resist Signature Theatre’s revival because the star Michael C. Hall (The Realistic Joneses, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, “Dexter”) is an actor whose work I have long admired. Knowing more or less what to expect this time around, I could relax and enjoy a fine actor at work without a sense of disappointment at the play’s circularities and teases. The script reminds me of the comic “Peanuts,” with Lucy repeatedly pulling the ball before Charlie Brown can kick it. Thom repeatedly promises the audience something and then abruptly retracts it or begins a story that he never finishes. Clearly in pain, he alternately charms and alienates the audience. Fragments from his life story including a childhood trauma and a failed romance give a few clues as to the reasons for his state of mind. Lodged amidst the self-laceration and passive aggression are some very funny bits. Michael C. Hall has more charm and less menace than I recall from James Urbaniak’s 2005 performance, which takes some edge off the play. I question Signature’s decision to put it on their largest stage, because it needs intimacy to have its full effect. From the third row, I saw nuances that may have been lost several rows back. The set by Amy Rubin (Miles for Mary) turns the stage and large parts of the theater into a construction site, complete with ladders, tarps, a scaffold, and an onstage excavation. The relevance of this concept to the play is questionable at best. For me, it was one more example of what seems to be a trend this season — overloading a play with dubious visual distractions such as the set for Good Grief and the furniture-moving chorus in The Hard Problem. Did director Oliver Butler (The Open House, What the Constitution Means to Me) not trust that the play itself was enough to hold our interest? If the thought of a rambling 65-minute rant does not appeal to you, skip it. If you are a Michael C. Hall fan, you’ll want to catch it.

Paradise Blue

B

Things look very promising upon arrival at the Linney Theatre at Signature Center for the final installment of Dominique Morisseau’s (Skeleton Crew, Pipeline) Detroit trilogy. The walls of the theater are covered with vintage posters for jazz concerts. The set by Neil Patel (An Ordinary Muslim; Time and the Conways) evokes the look of a seedy bar in the Black Bottom area of that city in 1949. At one end we see an upstairs rental room perfect in period detail down to the mauve chenille bedspread. Two huge electric PARADISE signs overhang the set, each facing half the audience seated on opposite sides of the stage. A lively burst of jazz plays as the lights dim. We meet each of the colorful characters: Blue (J. Alphonse Nicholson), the bar’s owner and trumpet player; Pumpkin (Kristolyn Lloyd; Dear Evan Hansen, Invisible Thread), Blue’s lover, cook and cleaning woman, who likes to memorize poems; Corn (Keith Randall Smith; The Piano Lesson, Jitney), pianist, widower and longtime friend of Blue’s; P-Sam (Francois Battiste; Prelude to a Kiss, Head of Passes), a young drummer down on his luck; and Silver (Simone Missick), a sultry black widow who rents the upstairs room. Blue’s bar is at the heart of a thriving area of black-owned businesses, threatened by a new mayor who wants to eliminate “blight.” Each of the characters has personal reasons for wanting the bar either to remain open or to close. The characters, mostly richly drawn, would feel right at home in an August Wilson play except for Silver, who seems to have wandered in from a noir film. Skillful director Ruben Santiago-Hudson (Jitney, The Piano Lesson) is in his comfort zone. The period costumes by Clint Ramos (Night Is a Room, Appropriate) are wonderful. Because the production has so much going for it, I am sorry to report that the play does not fully live up to its promise. The plot is not as coherent as it should be. The character of Blue is so relentlessly unsympathetic and devoid of charm that it is hard to care about his fate; I am curious whether another actor could have fared better with the role. Nevertheless, I enjoyed seeing the other first-rate actors making the most of juicy roles. Ms. Lloyd and Mr. Smith are especially fine. It’s not up there with Morisseau’s  Skeleton Crew, but it is still worth seeing. Running time: 2 hours 20 minutes including 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.

Wakey, Wakey

D-

Reluctant as I am to repeat an expression I learned from Ted Cruz, I have to say that Will Eno’s latest work for his Signature Theatre residency is a nothing burger. The only possible reason to catch it is the all-too-rare opportunity to see Michael Emerson (Gross Indecency) back on stage. No one does misery better than Emerson, and he certainly has cause to be miserable here. He plays Guy, a dying man in a wheelchair, who feels the need to entertain the audience and repeatedly apologizes for not being up to the task. He shares his final words of wisdom, jotted down on index cards, and uses a remote to project old photographs of childhood, a word puzzle and a YouTube funny animal clip on a large screen. If you remove the repeated apologies, long pauses and photographic distractions, there’s probably not more than half an hour of dialogue. About half way through the proceeding (I am loathe to call it a play), he is joined by Lisa (the radiant January LaVoy), a caregiver who brings a bag of fortune cookies that she shares with the audience. The final moments are an assault on the senses involving video collage, bubbles, balloons, bright lights and a disco ball. To me, it came across as a desperate attempt by the playwright-director to distract the audience from the inadequacy of all that preceded it. I posit that under the pressure of owing Signature a new play, this was the best that Eno could throw together. No matter. I’m sure the establishment critics will call it brilliant. The main elements of Christine Jones’s scenic design are a bunch of packing cartons, a pile of disheveled clothes and a never-used door flanked by two small evergreens. Playing Bolero as background music before the play was a trite choice. It was only 75 minutes without intermission, but it seemed much longer.

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. 

Old Hats (2016 Version) ****

Three years ago Bill Irwin and David Shiner brought this two-man show to the Signature Theatre where it was wildly successful. Happily, they are back. Here are some excerpts from my 2013 review:  “Their hair may be a bit grayer and sparser, but these two talented mimes have not lost an iota of inventiveness or plasticity. The several skits they perform alone and together keep the laughs coming, almost without pause. Between skits and at intermission, the lovely composer/singer/pianist” Shania Taub “leads a band of five in her catchy songs with wry lyrics. Individually, Irwin and Shiner are superb, but the sparks they create together make their joint skits even funnier. "A Magic Act," featuring Shiner as a slinky magician with a pomaded ponytail and Irwin in a blonde curly wig and high heels as his assistant, is by itself worth the price of admission. The two break their silence for a moment early in the second act with an amusing outcome. In “Cowboy Cinema,” Shiner plays a silent film director shooting a saloon scene with four "volunteers" from the audience with hilarious results. The clever projections by Wendall K. Harrington add to the fun. G.W. Mercier's scenic and costume designs are delightful. The sound design by John Gromada contributes to the merriment. Tina Landau's direction keeps things lively." If you need a good laugh, there’s no better place to spend two hours.

Night Is a Room **

To say that I liked this play the best of Naomi Wallace’s three plays for Signature Theatre’s residency program amounts to faint praise. The current play is set in Leeds, England where we meet Liana (Dagmara Dominczyk), an ad executive with beauty and style who is happily married to Marcus (Bill Heck), a popular history teacher in a girls’ school. In the first scene Liana is visiting the modest garden flat of Doré (Ann Dowd), a frumpy 55-year-old cleaning woman, who at age 15 was forced to give up the baby boy she bore. Doré is Marcus’s birth mother, whom Liana has tracked down at great expense, so she could unite mother and son as a surprise present for Marcus’s 40th birthday. Big mistake. The play skips the reunion and moves ahead three months. Liana, jealous at the many evenings Marcus has been spending at Doré’s, invites her to their upscale flat for tea. Their lives all change dramatically after that evening. After the big “reveal” which I will not give away here, what follows seems anti-climactic. The final scene, set six years later, spins its wheels and ends unconvincingly. The production is better than the material. All three actors, particularly the women, are excellent. Rachel Hauck’s set design is simple but evocative. Clint Ramos’s costumes are well-chosen. Bill Rauch’s direction is confident. If only the play did not peak too early and then go on too long, it would have been a more satisfying experience. Running time: 2 hours 5 minutes including intermission.

John ***

The first play in Annie Baker’s residency at Signature Theatre is now in previews there. After my exasperating experience with her Pulitzer winner The Flick, I attended with low expectations. To my great surprise, I actually enjoyed myself. The traditional crimson curtain with gold fringe covering the stage was the first sign that this was going to be something different for her. That curtain is pulled open by Georgia Engel who plays Mertis Katherine Graven, the genial innkeeper of a b&b in Gettysburg. We see the ornate sitting room with a gigantic Christmas tree and a thousand tchotchkes, stuffed animals and dolls, as well as the Parisian-themed breakfast room. Set designer Mimi Lien (Preludes, The Oldest Boy) has outdone herself. Two guests arrive — Elias Schreiber-Hoffman (Christopher Abbott of “Girls”) and Jenny Chung (Hong Chau) — a neurotic couple who have been together for a rocky three years and who have come to Gettysburg to repair the damage of a recent blow-up. From the raised voices soon after they have retreated upstairs to their room, we gather that the healing is not going well. We eventually learn why Jenny is so clingy and Elias is so mistrustful. In pain with menstrual cramps, Jenny cuts short their battlefield tour the next day while Elias goes to dinner and takes a ghost tour. Jenny and Mertis are joined by Genevieve Marduk (the wonderful Lois Smith), a blind neighbor who recounts her past brush with mental illness after she became convinced that her late husband had invaded her soul. Three times during the weekend someone asks to hear a scary story. Baker clearly had a good time developing an air of mystery and a suggestion of the imminent supernatural. There are red herrings galore including a player piano with a mind of its own, Christmas lights that turn on and off at will and a mysterious journal that Mertis keeps. What turns out to be basically a very simple story has been stretched to Baker size with three acts. Between the second and third acts, there is a unexpected treat involving Lois Smith. My only problem is that I did not find Elias and Jenny sufficiently interesting to deserve all the attention. There is no character onstage named John. I won’t reveal the reason for the title. Asta Bennie Hostetter’s costumes are fine. The clever sound design by Bray Poor involves Mertis playing CDs on a faux-antique player — Bach, more Bach and, finally, Offenbach. Director Sam Gold once again demonstrates his affinity for Baker’s sensibility. Running time: 3 hours 20 minutes including two intermissions.

What I Did Last Summer **

For the second revival in their A.R. Gurney residency, Signature Theatre has chosen this semi-autobiographical memory play from 1981. Charlie (Noah Galvin), the 14-year-old Gurney stand-in, recalls the Summer of 1945 when his father was away at war in the Pacific and his mother Grace (Carolyn McKormick) was trying valiantly to hold their WASP family together in his absence. Charlie, his mother and his older sister Elsie (Kate McGonigle) are spending the summer at their vacation home on the Canadian side of Lake Erie not far from Buffalo. Charlie and Ted (Pico Alexander), a townie two years his senior, both like to spend time with Bonny (Juliet Brett), a girl near their age but much wiser. The rebellious Charlie answers a “Help Wanted” ad placed by the local outcast Anna Trumbull (Kristine Nielsen). A free spirit, she has abandoned her WASP upbringing to live a hermit-like existence on the lakeside property left her by her former lover. She claims to see artistic potential in Charlie and gives him art lessons after his chores are done. He shows no aptitude for painting, sculpture, macrame or anything else she tries to teach him. She also fills his head with anti-establishment socialistic ideas. After one argument too many with his mother, Charlie flees home and moves into Anna’s barn. There is a battle for Charlie’s soul between Anna and Grace who, it turns out, had her own experiences with Anna 20 years prior. Clumsy plot devices intrude and the ending is less than satisfactory. Director Jim Simpson has chosen to introduce a drummer (Dan Weiner) to punctuate the action, a needless distraction. Michael Yeargan’s minimalist set is enhanced by John Narun’s projections of typed characters filling the back wall with stage directions. Claudia Brown's costumes are attractive and appropriate. All the characters save one address the audience to ponder whether the play is really about them. Despite the fine cast (although I found Galvin a bit too hyperactive) and a snazzy production, the play simply did not engage me. So far, the Gurney residency has been underwhelming. “The Wayside Motor Inn” showed him in his Ayckbourn mode and this play has echoes of Wilder. Let’s hope that next season’s Gurney premiere will salvage the residency and display more of the characteristics that made me a Gurney fan. Running time: two hours including intermission.

The Painted Rocks at Revolver Creek ***

Even though he has already written over a score of plays about life in South Africa during and after apartheid, Athol Fugard still has things to say on the subject. His new play at Signature Theatre is loosely based on the career of outside artist Nukain Mabuza, a black farm laborer who painted colorful designs on the boulders located on the farm owned by the Afrikaaner family who employed him. They encouraged him and bought him paint to spend his Sundays turning the rocks into stone “flowers.” In Fugard’s fictionalized version of his life, the aged Nukain (Leon Addison Brown) arrives with his 11-year old assistant Bokkie (Caleb McLaughlin) to tackle the last unpainted boulder, a gigantic one he calls “The Big One.” He feels artistically blocked and unable to paint the rock until Bokkie’s suggestion that he paint eyes on it. Doing so releases a flood of creative energy and, instead of a flower, he turns the rock into an abstract record of his life. When the boss’s wife Elmarie (Bianca Amato) arrives bearing leftovers, she dislikes his painting and tells him to paint over it the following weekend and replace it with another floral design. Bokkie is horrified and sasses her. She is enraged at his cheekiness and tells Nukain to use his belt on him. The irony is that Nukain is so poor he doesn’t even own a belt. 

22 years later, the adult Bokkie, now known by his given name Jonathan (Sahr Ngaujah) returns to Revolver Creek where he is greeted by a hostile Elmarie brandishing a pistol. She does not recognize him and is on edge because of the recent murder and torture of her neighbors by blacks. Most of the act consists of long alternating speeches by the two, each passionately defending a point of view. Fugard plays fair in presenting their perspectives and mostly avoids didacticism. The play ends on a cautiously optimistic note.

The production is exemplary. The cast could not be better. Christopher H. Barreca’s evocative set draws you in immediately. Susan Hilferty’s costumes are appropriate. The playwright’s direction is uncluttered. It’s not a major Fugard play, but still a welcome addition to his canon. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes including intermission. 

NOTE: I suggest staying in your seat at intermission because the set change is extremely interesting. I also suggest avoiding the first two rows (unless you have a foot fetish) because you’ll be staring at the performers’ feet.

Big Love ****

Since suffering through Charles Mee’s play First Love in 2001, I have studiously avoided seeing anything else by him. I was dismayed to learn that a revival of his Big Love had turned up on my subscription series at Signature Theatre. To my great surprise, the preview I attended turned out to be thoroughly entertaining. I was put in a good mood even before entering the theater. Outside the entrance was an enormous pile of Tiffany-like gift boxes. Inside, the entire ceiling was covered with upside-down flowers. The white walls of the set (by Brent J. Banakis) featured projections of pastoral Italian scenes (by Austin Switser). The back wall of the stage was a beautiful blue sky above rippling Mediterranean waters. The tranquility did not last long. Lydia (Rebecca Naomi Jones) bursts in in a dirty wedding gown, which she promptly strips off for a bath in the onstage tub. She and her 49 sisters have fled Greece for Italy to escape forced marriage to their 50 cousins. The two other sisters that we meet are Olympia (Libby Winters), a valley-girl style airhead who likes to take selfies, and Thyona (Stacey Sargeant), a very angry militant feminist. They seek refuge from Piero (Christopher Innvar), owner of the villa. When their jilted grooms arrive by helicopter to claim their brides, Piero attempts to negotiate a compromise with them. We meet three of the grooms, the assertive Constantine (Ryan James Hatanaka), the sweet Nikos (Bobby Steggert) and the nondescript Oed (Emmanuel Brown). When the grooms refuse to compromise, the sisters decide to take drastic action. When one sister fails to follow through on their pact, she is tried for her betrayal. The judge is Piero’s wise mother Bella (Lynn Cohen). The other characters are Giuliano (Preston Sadleir), Piero’s gay son, and Eleanor (Ellen Harvey) and Leo (Nathaniel Stampley), two weekend guests; their role in the play seemed superfluous. Some of the themes touched on are the conflicting roles that a society expects of its men and the competing claims of love and justice. Much is demanded of the actors. The trio of sisters, as well as the three brothers, burst into song periodically. When frustrated, they throw themselves to the floor or against the nearest wall. Fight directors Rick Sordelet and Christian Kelly-Sordelet somehow have taught them not to injure themselves in the process. The tongue-in-cheek costumes by Anita Yavich are wonderful. Director Tina Landau has successfully knit all the elements together into a very enjoyable theater piece. Running time: one hour, 40 minutes, no intermission.

Our Lady of Kibeho ***

Playwright Katori Hall’s residency at Signature Theatre resumes with this theatrically engrossing play based on actual events in Rwanda in the early 1980’s when three young women at a Catholic school claimed to have visions of Mary. As the play opens, Father Tuyishime (Owiso Odera),a young handsome priest and Sister Evangelique (Starla Benford), an older martinet nun in charge of the students — two stock characters who could be right out of John Patrick Shanley’s Doubt — are arguing about what to do with 17-year-old Alphonsine (Nneka Okafor), the first to claim to see the Virgin. The priest secretly hopes the apparitions are real while the nun wants to stamp out attention-seeking nonsense. When another student, Anathalie (Mandi Masden), begins to see the visions, Sister Evangelique enlists Marie-Claire (Joaquina Kalukango), the eldest student and a bit of a bully, to interfere should there be other apparitions. Marie-Claire too sees the Virgin in the gripping scene with gasp-inducing special effects that concludes the first act. When word gets out about the visions, the long absent Bishop Gahamanyi (Brent Jennings) shows up and threatens to close the school if the rumors are not contained. Eventually the Vatican sends Father Flavia (T. Ryder Smith) to investigate. The manner in which he tests the girls is barbaric. As the visions come to be accepted, there is much shifting of positions among those who at first belittled the visions and those who supported them. Some are motivated by crass economic considerations, others by faith. But few are able to accept the warning of a coming bloodbath the apparitions portend. In restricting herself to the immediate period of the visions, Hall does not supply much context for what happens. The audience is expected to know in advance about the tribal rivalries between Hutu and Tutsi and the massacres that took place in Rwanda a decade later. That narrowing of focus may rob the play of a bit of its import but not of its theatricality. Rachel Hauck’s modular set is attractive and efficient. Peter Nigrini’s evocative projections add much to the atmosphere. Greg Meeh and Paul Rubin create some marvelous effects. Emily Rebholz’s costumes are very good. Director Michael Greif keeps things moving. One word of caution: a walkway that bisects the theater between rows F and G is used for part of the action, particularly in the second act. If your seat is in Rows A-F, you either will miss some of the action or twist your neck trying not to. Running time: 2 hours 35 minutes including intermission.

And I and Silence **

Naomi Wallace, a playwright in residence at Signature Theatre this season, has a most impressive resume. It includes a MacArthur Fellowship, a National Endowment for the Arts grant, the Susan Smith Blackburn Prize, an Obie Award, the 2012 Horton Foote Prize and the 2013 Windham Campbell prize for drama. I wish I could say that the reasons for all her honors were more evident in her new drama now in previews at Signature. The action follows the story of two young women both as teenagers in prison in 1950 and as roommates nine years later. Scenes of their hardships in the outside world are juxtaposed with scenes of their budding friendship in prison. Many of the prison scenes involve Young Jamie (Trae Harris), who is black, coaching Young Dee (Emily Skeggs), who is white, how to be a proper servant, the career they look forward to pursuing after prison. Part of the lessons involve learning where to establish lines that must not be crossed in dealings with their future employers. After prison Jamie (Rachel Nicks) and Dee (Samantha Soule) are living in abject poverty, struggling to find and hold jobs as servants. The disconnect between their personalities in prison and later is exacerbated by the lack of physical resemblance between the two actors playing them. Skeggs’s body type is so different from Soule’s that it is a stretch to accept the two as the same character at different ages. The reasons for their desperation are not made sufficiently clear. The sudden explosion of repressed lesbianism took me by surprise. The actors invest their roles with sincerity and energy. The spartan set by Rachel Hauck is effective, as are Cliff Ramos’s costumes. With the audience split into two facing sides, director Caitlin McLeod needs to work harder to insure that fewer lines are lost when the actors are facing away. It all seemed like a mash-up of “Girls in Prison” and “Thelma and Louise” with a touch of “The Maids” thrown in. I hope that Wallace’s remaining two plays will deliver more evidence of her talents. In case you were wondering, the title is a line from an Emily Dickinson poem. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Appropriate

B

Playwright Branden Jacobs-Jenkins has created a southern family, the Lafayettes, who are right up there in theatrically dysfunctional behavior with any characters penned by Tennessee Williams, Horton Foote or Tracy Letts. The three Lafayette siblings have gathered at the family home in Arkansas, a former plantation, not long after their father's demise to hold an estate sale and auction the dilapidated house. The eldest, Toni (Johanna Day), an embittered recent divorcee, is in from Atlanta with her teen-aged son Rhys (Mike Faist), whose recent brush will the law has cost her her job. Bo (Michael Laurence) is a type-A New York executive who has brought along his Jewish wife Rachael (Maddie Corman) and two children, Cassidy (Izzy Hanson-Johnston) and Ainsley (Alex Dreier). To the consternation of his siblings, younger brother Franz f/k/a Frank (Patch Darragh), who had vanished 10 years prior after an incident with an underage girl, has reappeared with his New Age fiancee River f/k/a Trisha (Sonya Harum). It's not long before the three siblings are having at each other, pouring out resentment and blame. In sorting through the vast piles of their father's stuff, they come across an old album with photos of lynched blacks. Discovery of this album raises troubling questions about their father. The shouting and screaming are punctuated by a series of surprises. The playwright lays it on a bit thick, but the result is never boring. Clint Ramos's set is remarkable: it quickly creates a mood and has some surprises of its own. Director Liesl Tommy really keeps things moving. While the play has lots of negatives, for me at least, they were outweighed by its energy and ambition. I am not sure whether the title is the adjective or the verb or perhaps both. In selecting Jacobs-Jenkins for its Residency Five program, Signature Theatre has made a promising choice. I look forward to seeing what he does next. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes including intermission (at 3/9 preview). Nudity alert: There's a short scene of partial male nudity.

Kung Fu **

Although David Henry Hwang's biographical play about martial arts star Bruce Lee, now at Signature Theatre, comes to life fitfully during the many action sequences that skillfully combine martial arts, Chinese opera moves and modern dance, it is dragged down by sketchy "and then this happened next" scenes with surprisingly inert dialogue. It explores his difficult father-son relationship and his unending battle against the prevailing American image of Asian men, but simplifies or omits many facets of Lee's life in favor of what could pass for the comic book version. Allegedly, the work was originally conceived as a musical, but things didn't work out. Too bad -- that might have been considerably more interesting. Cole Horibe makes an impressive theatrical debut as Lee, Francis Jue is superb as his father and Bradley Fong is endearing in the double role of the young Lee and his son Brandon. Phoebe Strole does her best with the two-dimensional role of Lee's wife Linda. Clifton Duncan, in an amusing stroke of color-blind casting, is a convincing James Coburn. The remainder of the energetic cast are fine too. The play cuts off just as Lee achieves his big breakthrough, sparing us his tragic early death only a few years later. David Zinn's set is generic and unattractive. Anita Yavich's costumes are excellent. Director Leigh Silverman, who has done well with Hwang's work on other occasions, does what she can to hold it all together. There's no escaping the fact that this work is not Hwang at his best. Running time: two hours including intermission.

How I Learned What I Learned ***

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
Signature Theatre is presenting the New York premiere of this one-man show, written and first performed by August Wilson in 2003 in Seattle. Ruben Santiago-Hudson, who has a sterling record interpreting Wilson's work, portrays him in this set of reminiscences about being a young black man in Pittsburgh in the 1960's. The pieces range from comedic to contemplative. Some are poetic, others are angry. Santiago-Hudson, a charismatic performer, gives them their due. Set designer David Gallo projects the name of each sketch typed on a backdrop of hundreds of sheets of paper hanging from wires. The rough wood platform with rusty stairs on which the performance takes place rests on a layer of urban detritus. Costanza Romero did the costumes. Wilson expert Todd Kreidler's direction is fluid and assured. The format runs the risk of monotony and the vitality of the sketches does take a dip midway, but then it returns to its initial high level of interest. All in all, it makes for a short but worthwhile experience. Sadly, there were very, very few blacks in the audience. Running time: one hour, 20 minutes; no intermission.

The Old Friends ***

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Horton Foote, Pulitzer Prize-winning chronicler of small-town American life as lived in Harrison, TX, worked on this play off and on for over 40 years, but apparently was still not completely satisfied with it when he died in 2009. Signature Theatre is now presenting its world premiere. In Foote Country, we are never far from family rivalries, greed, the lust for power, and in this instance, the nearest liquor bottle. Borden family matriarch Mamie (Lois Smith) is forced to live with her wealthy but greedy, unhappily married daughter Julia (Veanne Cox) and Julia’s rotund alcoholic husband Albert (Adam LeFevre) who makes no attempt to disguise his hatred of his mother-in-law. Their old friend Gertrude, a monstrously greedy, needy lush (Betty Buckley), is filled with unrequited love for her business manager Howard (Cotter Smith), younger brother of her late husband. Mamie’s long-absent daughter-in-law Sybil (Hallie Foote) returns to the family with news of her husband Hugo’s untimely demise. 30 year ago, she broke off her engagement to Howard and married Hugo out of spite. Gertrude regards Sybil’s return as a threat and acts accordingly. The equilibrium is further upset by the arrival in town of Tom (Sean Lyons), a good-looking young man on the make, who ignites a rivalry between Gertrude and Julia. For most of the play, Julia, Albert and Gertrude are drunk. The play’s imperfections include too many over-the-top emotions and a weak narrative arc. Nevertheless, Foote created a gallery of vivid characters superbly portrayed by a stellar cast. Novella Nelson and Melle Powers have little to do in roles as maids. Jeff Cowie’s set design and David C. Woolard’s costumes are excellent. Michael Wilson directs with the sure hand he always brings to a Foote play. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.

A reminder about ratings: I use a scale from 0 to 5 stars. 0 = Dreadful. * = Poor. ** = Fair.

*** = Good. **** = Very Good. ***** = Outstanding.