With this comedy, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, Bruce Norris (The Pain and the Itch, Clybourne Park, Domesticated) once again demonstrates that he is one of our most consistently entertaining playwrights. His depiction of a swingers’ party that goes awry is hysterically funny, occasionally touching, and uncomfortably perceptive about the foibles of human sexuality and other social behavior. For reasons that are a bit implausible, investment banker Chris (the always reliable Jeremy Shamos) has accepted an invitation to attend a swingers’ party with his attractive wife Kristy (Sarah Goldberg) at the home of Gary (John Procaccino) and his sexy but slightly dim partner Teri (the superb Kate Arrington), whom they had met on vacation. Gary argues at length about the unnaturalness of monogamy. They are joined by the plus-size Deb (the delightful Donna Lynn Champlin) and her younger black lover Ken (Andy Lucien) who combines an ultra-buff body with a touch of swish. Last to arrive are Regine (Chinasa Ogbuagu), a sultry beauty from Martinique, and Roger (the fine Noah Emmerich), an ex-military libertarian. There’s also a delivery guy (Julian Leong) who earns laughs without saying a word. Chris quickly develops misgivings about being at the party and provokes the others by expressing unfashionably conservative views. His increasingly obnoxious behavior is a buzz-kill for the evening’s anticipated amorous adventures. Norris skillfully uses both overlapping dialog and the absence of dialog. A long silent scene near the end of the play is powerful in its impact. There's a momentary breach of the fourth wall that is very effective too. Director Pam MacKinnon manages all the action with aplomb. Todd Rosenthal has designed a condo living room that looks authentic and lived in. Jessica Pabst’s costumes are spot-on. Some may dismiss the play as lightweight, but I think there are some thought-provoking ideas lurking behind the humor. Besides, it was so funny that I wasn’t really looking for gravitas. Running time: 95 minutes, no intermission.
Showing posts with label Sarah Goldberg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sarah Goldberg. Show all posts
Sunday, May 31, 2015
The Qualms ****
Labels:
Andy Lucien,
Bruce Norris,
Chinasa Ogbuagu,
Donna Lynn Champlin,
Jeremy Shamos,
Jessica Pabst,
John Procaccino,
Kate Arrington,
Noah Emmerich,
Pam MacKinnon,
Sarah Goldberg,
The Qualms,
Todd Rosenthal
Thursday, June 20, 2013
The Unavoidable Disappearance of Tom Durnin *
It is admirable that Roundabout Theatre Company is trying to encourage young talent by giving playwrights who have had a success in their Underground space a chance to move upstairs to the Laura Pels. On the basis of his 2008 play "The Language of Trees," Roundabout has given that chance to Steven Levenson. Unfortunately, at least to me, his new work did not seem ready for prime time. Tom Durnin (David Morse) has just finished a five-year sentence for perpetrating a Ponzi scheme that wiped out the fortunes of his family and friends. His adult son James (Christopher Denham), who was forced to drop out of Yale when the money vanished, has been particularly traumatized, to the point that he become an emotional cipher. Tom bullies his son into letting him sleep on his couch for a month and blackmails his son-in-law Chris (Rich Sommer of "Mad Men") into putting him in contact with wife Karen (Lisa Emery). James cautiously begins a relationship with Katie (Sarah Goldberg), a woman he meets in writing class. The premise is intriguing, but the play mostly spins its wheels aimlessly. The tone moves uneasily between comedy (such as the wretched writing samples we are forced to hear) to drama that mostly fizzles. The character of Katie is so annoyingly vapid that I cringed whenever she appeared. The always interesting Morse mostly underplays the part of a manipulative liar. The usually fine Emery does not get much opportunity to shine. Sommer's character verges on the cartoonish. Denham was convincing as someone with crippling depression. Beowulf Boritt's revolving set concentrates too much of the action on the right half of the stage. Jeff Mahsie's costumes did not call attention to themselves. Scott Ellis directed. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes, no intermission.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
The Great God Pan ***
(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
Amy Herzog's new play now in previews at Playwrights Horizons is never less than interesting, but does not provide the same level of satisfaction her previous play, 4000 Miles, did, at least not for me. If I had to state the theme, I would say it is the vicissitude of childhood memories, e.g. what is remembered, what is buried, what is simply forgotten, what is perceived as memory but was acquired from others, how memories of the same event differ. The high cost of being emotionally withholding is another issue. The seven vivid characters Herzog has created are superbly portrayed by a uniformly strong cast. Jamie (Jeremy Strong) is a 32-year-old freelance writer who struggles to piece together a living. Paige (Sarah Goldberg), his girlfriend of 6 years, is a former dancer whose career was ended abruptly by an injury, and is now studying to be a nutritional counselor. At the very moment when their relationship is in a severe crisis, Jamie is upset by a visit from Frank (Keith Nobbs), a former playmate whom he hasn't seen in 25 years, who has filed charges against his father for abusing him as a child. Frank's suggestion that Jamie might also have been a victim upsets Jamie's equilibrium. His conversations with his parents Cathy (Becky Ann Baker) and Doug (Peter Friedman) are far from comforting. His visit to his now senile former babysitter Polly (Joyce van Patten) does not provide answers. The remaining character, Joelle (Erin Wilhelmi), is a bulimic patient of Paige's. I suppose Paige's relationship with Joelle is intended to mirror her relationship with Jamie, but I did not feel their two scenes together were an integral part of the play. A final scene between Frank and Jamie ends the play on an ambiguous note. Carolyn Cantor's direction is assured. Mark Wendland's set of a forest glade with panels that pop out to form benches and tables is lovely, but distracting. Kaye Voyce's costumes serve the characters well. Running time: 90 minutes without intermission.
Question: Are there any American playwrights left out there who can write a two-act play?
Amy Herzog's new play now in previews at Playwrights Horizons is never less than interesting, but does not provide the same level of satisfaction her previous play, 4000 Miles, did, at least not for me. If I had to state the theme, I would say it is the vicissitude of childhood memories, e.g. what is remembered, what is buried, what is simply forgotten, what is perceived as memory but was acquired from others, how memories of the same event differ. The high cost of being emotionally withholding is another issue. The seven vivid characters Herzog has created are superbly portrayed by a uniformly strong cast. Jamie (Jeremy Strong) is a 32-year-old freelance writer who struggles to piece together a living. Paige (Sarah Goldberg), his girlfriend of 6 years, is a former dancer whose career was ended abruptly by an injury, and is now studying to be a nutritional counselor. At the very moment when their relationship is in a severe crisis, Jamie is upset by a visit from Frank (Keith Nobbs), a former playmate whom he hasn't seen in 25 years, who has filed charges against his father for abusing him as a child. Frank's suggestion that Jamie might also have been a victim upsets Jamie's equilibrium. His conversations with his parents Cathy (Becky Ann Baker) and Doug (Peter Friedman) are far from comforting. His visit to his now senile former babysitter Polly (Joyce van Patten) does not provide answers. The remaining character, Joelle (Erin Wilhelmi), is a bulimic patient of Paige's. I suppose Paige's relationship with Joelle is intended to mirror her relationship with Jamie, but I did not feel their two scenes together were an integral part of the play. A final scene between Frank and Jamie ends the play on an ambiguous note. Carolyn Cantor's direction is assured. Mark Wendland's set of a forest glade with panels that pop out to form benches and tables is lovely, but distracting. Kaye Voyce's costumes serve the characters well. Running time: 90 minutes without intermission.
Question: Are there any American playwrights left out there who can write a two-act play?
Labels:
Amy Herzog,
Becky Ann Baker,
Carolyn Cantor,
Erin Wilhelmi,
Jeremy Strong,
Joyce van Patten,
Kaye Voyce,
Keith Nobbs,
Mark Wendland,
Peter Friedman,
Playwrights Horizons,
Sarah Goldberg
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Look Back in Anger *
(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
Roundabout Theatre's current revival of John Osborne's 1956 play is a puzzler. Granted, it's impossible to recreate the shock waves the play set off when it first appeared. But what's the point of reviving it if you strip out almost all the social and political background that makes the play comprehensible? One of the characters has been eliminated too. In the present version you would be hard put to figure out just what Jimmy Porter is so angry about. Matthew Rhys captures Jimmy's anger, but comes up short on the magnetism that would explain what holds people in his thrall. Also, it's a stretch to believe in him as a 25-year-old. Sarah Goldberg, as Jimmy's wife Alison, is fine in the first two acts, but doesn't find the right note for the final act. Adam Driver, as Cliff Lewis, is eminently watchable, but the reasons for his devotion to Jimmy remain a riddle. Charlotte Parry is strong as Helena. The production is very poorly served by Andrew Lieberman's set. A charcoal gray wall without windows or doors covers the entire stage, leaving a strip perhaps four feet deep for the action. This strip is cluttered with decrepit furniture, an iconic ironing board, and piles of trash and rotting food. If this is a metaphor for their circumscribed, squalid lives, it is a heavy-handed one. Mark Barton's lighting is problematic too. The audience is bathed in harsh bright light which gradually fades once the play begins. Sam Gold, in his third New York play this season, directed. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes.
Roundabout Theatre's current revival of John Osborne's 1956 play is a puzzler. Granted, it's impossible to recreate the shock waves the play set off when it first appeared. But what's the point of reviving it if you strip out almost all the social and political background that makes the play comprehensible? One of the characters has been eliminated too. In the present version you would be hard put to figure out just what Jimmy Porter is so angry about. Matthew Rhys captures Jimmy's anger, but comes up short on the magnetism that would explain what holds people in his thrall. Also, it's a stretch to believe in him as a 25-year-old. Sarah Goldberg, as Jimmy's wife Alison, is fine in the first two acts, but doesn't find the right note for the final act. Adam Driver, as Cliff Lewis, is eminently watchable, but the reasons for his devotion to Jimmy remain a riddle. Charlotte Parry is strong as Helena. The production is very poorly served by Andrew Lieberman's set. A charcoal gray wall without windows or doors covers the entire stage, leaving a strip perhaps four feet deep for the action. This strip is cluttered with decrepit furniture, an iconic ironing board, and piles of trash and rotting food. If this is a metaphor for their circumscribed, squalid lives, it is a heavy-handed one. Mark Barton's lighting is problematic too. The audience is bathed in harsh bright light which gradually fades once the play begins. Sam Gold, in his third New York play this season, directed. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes.
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