Gently Down the Stream

B

It has been far too long since we have had a play by Martin Sherman (Bent, When She Danced) on a New York stage. Thanks to the Public Theater, the drought is over. Even better, it has Gabriel Ebert (4,000 Miles, Matilda, Preludes) as one of its two leads. As Rufus, a bipolar Brit with a penchant for older men, Ebert once again proves that he is one of the finest actors of his generation. Beau, the expat cocktail pianist who is the object of his attention, is played by Harvey Fierstein (Torch Song Trilogy, Hairspray), which, depending on your point of view, is either the best or worst thing about the play. Listening to Fierstein’s raspy voice for an extended period has always been a problem for me. In this case, the problem is compounded by the New Orleans accent by way of Brooklyn that he adopts. That's a lot to get through to appreciate the subtle acting beneath. Christopher Spears (The Harvest) is fine in the third, smaller role of Harry. His rendition of “The Man I Love” is not one you’ll soon forget, even if no match for the snippets of Mabel Mercer songs that punctuate the play. The importance of oral history to preserve the lives of marginalized people that society prefers to disregard is one of the play’s themes. Illustrating how relationships change over time is another. There are several monologues for Beau that eventually explain why he has become so mistrustful of the possibility of happiness for gay men. What he reveals about the gay history of the last 50 years contains little that will be unfamiliar to a New York audience. Sherman’s dialogue sparkles with wit, but his structure is a bit lumpy and the final scene seems pasted on. Derek McClane’s (Noises Off, I Am My Own Wife) set presents a London flat guaranteed to inspire real estate envy. The costumes by Michael Krass (Noises Off, Machinal) are apt. Director Sean Mathias (Waiting for Godot, No Man’s Land) manages to minimize the play’s structural problems. While the play doesn’t represent Sherman at his best, it still provides an entertaining and occasionally moving evening. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

No Man's Land ***

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Let me admit up front that I have never found the works of Pinter a good fit for my tastes. That may qualify me as a card-carrying philistine, but I don't find his usual blend of humor, cruelty and obscurantism appealing. While his plays, including this one, offer some wonderful opportunities for actors to show their stuff, the whole usually is less than the sum of its parts, at least for me. It's not so much that I ask myself "What does this mean?" as "Why should I care?" The reason to care about this production is to see two of Britain's finest actors, Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen, sharing a stage. When the two of them are alone, there is theatrical magic to behold. When the other two characters, played by Shuler Hensley and Billy Crudup, appear, it seemed an intrusion on the magic. Half the time I was entranced and the other half I was bored. On the balance, the chance to see Stewart and McKellen in action outweighed the misgivings I have about the play. Stephen Brimson Lewis designed the atmospheric set and character-appropriate costumes. Sean Mathias directed. Running time: 2 hours, including intermission.

Breakfast at Tiffany's *

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For me, the most interesting part of this production takes place before it begins: huge photographs of New York in the 1940's and wartime propaganda posters are projected on the main panel of the set. Even this is muddled though -- instead of projecting them on a plain background where they could be clearly seen, they are superimposed on a projection of the Manhattan skyline with glass towers not built until decades later. I'm afraid it's downhill from there. Richard Greenberg's adaptation hews much more closely to Capote's novella than the sanitized Hollywood film did, but he includes long stretches of narration that quickly become tiresome. The first act moves at a snail's pace. Neither Emilia Clarke as Holly nor Cory Michael Smith as Fred has much charisma, although (gratuitous nudity alert!) they do look nice together in a bathtub. George Wendt is an understated Joe Bell, the bartender, but the rest of the cast perform much too broadly. Things improve in the second act, but by then it's too late to save the day. Derek McLane's scenic design morphs effortlessly from one setting to the next and Colleen Atwood's costumes are appropriate. Sean Mathias's direction seemed muddled. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes, including intermission.