Apologia

B

If you are a Stockard Channing fan like me, you will enjoy this 2009 play by Alexi Kaye Campbell (Pride), which was revived for her in London last year and has now landed in New York at Roundabout’s Laura Pels Theatre. In my opinion, no one plays a smart, sharp-tongued woman of a certain age better than Ms. Channing (Other Desert Cities, Six Degrees of Separation, A Day in the Life of Joe Egg). In this instance, she plays Kristin Miller, a renowned art historian and social activist who fled the U.S. for London when she was 20 and has never looked back. At her country cottage, she is celebrating her birthday with a dinner for her two adult sons — the composed international banker Peter (Hugh Dancy; Venus in Fur, Journey’s End) and the emotionally fragile would-be writer Simon (also played by Dancy); Peter’s girlfriend Trudi (Talene Monahon; Bobbie Clearly, Log Cabin), a perky earnest Christian from Nebraska whom Kristin has not met before; Simon’s girlfriend Claire (Megalyn Echikunwoke), a stunning television actress with whom he has been living for over a year; and Kristin’s longtime gay best friend Hugh (John Tillinger, best known as director of plays by Orton, McNally, Gurney and Miller). The facts that the oven is not working and that Simon has not arrived bode ill for what turns out to be a worthy entry in any “Dinner party from Hell” contest. Kristin does not approve of her gifts — an African mask from Peter and Trudy and a beauty cream from Claire. Only Hugh’s gift of an old photograph of a youthful protest pleases her. An innocent question by Trudi about why Kristin chose Giotto as her favorite artist elicits a long, showy monologue. Kristin has recently published a memoir, entitled Apologia, about her career, in which she has not even mentioned her sons, an omission that pains them both. We learn that when they were 7 and 9, their father essentially kidnapped them, but Kristin made no attempt to get them back. Emotions boil over and everyone goes to bed. In the middle of the night Simon arrives, his left hand injured by broken glass from a fall. As Kristin tends his wounds, he torments her with a drawn-out story about what happened the night she failed to pick him up at the Genoa train station when he was 13. He says that his main childhood memory of her is her absence. In the morning, after all her guests have left, Kristin is forced to confront the consequences of her choices. As a showcase for Ms. Channing’s prodigious talents, the play succeeds. If, however, you start to look at things too closely, there are many flaws — contrivances such as identical cellphones, cliches such as a wise-cracking gay friend, gimmicks such as double-casting, borrowings such as the scene between Simon and Kristin which strongly recalls one in The Seagull, improbabilities such as Simon and Claire being a pair, and omissions such as information about her late husband and the reasons he took their sons away. As a serious consideration of whether a woman can have it all, it breaks no new ground. Nevertheless, the opportunity to see Ms. Channing in action definitely outweighs all these shortcomings for me. The other actors are fine as well. Dane Laffrey’s (Once on the Island, Bad Jews) set is cozy and appropriately book-filled. Anita Yavich’s (Venus in Fur, The Legend of Georgia McBride) costumes, especially Claire’s dress, are very good. Daniel Aukin’s (Skintight, Admissions) direction is unfussy. If Ms. Channing is a draw for you, you will be content. Running time: two hours 15 minutes including intermission.

It's Only a Play ***

This much-revised comedy by Terrrence McNally, which is breaking box office records on Broadway, has a stellar cast including Nathan Lane, Matthew Broderick, Stockard Channing, Megan Mullally, F. Murray Abraham and Rupert Grint (from Harry Potter films), plus promising newcomer Micah Stock. Lane and Channing are at the top of their form, rattling off a nonstop series of bitchy zingers, many of them theatrical insider jokes that flatter the audience by making them feel in the know. Abraham, as an acerbic critic, reveals a manic comic side that I never knew he had. Mullally was out so I can’t comment on her; understudy Isabel Keating seemed flightier than necessary. Rupert Grint, as a hotshot British director who claims to crave failure, has to cope with a poorly written role and a hideous costume. Stock, who resembles a young Jim Parsons, holds his own in a long, hilarious scene with Lane. And then there’s Matthew Broderick as the author of the play whose opening night is being celebrated. He copes reasonably well with difficult material in Act One — a lecture on the depressing state of Broadway theater and a prayer for those involved in the business — but seems to retreat into a shell of blandness in Act Two. The fun is greatly abetted by an over-the-top set design by Scott Pask and hilarious costumes, including the outerwear of unseen celebrities from other Broadway shows, by Ann Roth. Director Jack O’Brien occasionally lets the pace lag. The wisp of a plot is about the anxieties of waiting for reviews on opening night, a somewhat dated concept in the age of instantly accessible reviews on newspapers’ digital sites. The second act fizzles more than it fizzes. McNally would have done well to follow one of the theatrical trends he deplores in the Act One lecture — 90-minute plays without an intermission. A string of one-liners, no matter how funny, does not stay fresh for two hours and forty minutes. It’s too much of a good thing.

Other Desert Cities (revisited) ***

(Click on the title to read the entire review.)
When I saw this play at the Mitzi Newhouse a year ago, I wrote the following review:
Jon Robin Baitz's new play, now in previews at Lincoln Center Theater's Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater, brims with talent. With five worthy actors, a noted director (Joe Mantello), a wonderful set by John Lee Beatty and an interesting premise, it should have made for a stimulating evening. Alas, it didn't. The plot revolves around whether East Coast lefty writer-daughter Brooke Wyeth (Elizabeth Marvel) should publish her memoir about a family tragedy that happened 25 years previously, no matter what pain it causes her Republican parents Polly & Lyman Wyeth (Stockard Channing & Stacy Keach) who are living in Palm Springs splendor in self-exile from Hollywood. The underutilized Linda Lavin plays Polly's alcoholic sister who is using her niece to work out her own feelings against her sister. Thomas Sadoski plays Brooke's younger brother, producer of a "Judge Judy"-type tv show. They all have at each other for an act and a half, until we learn that things are not quite as they seem. A final scene set five years later detracts rather than adds to the plot. The dialog is mostly lackuster, the plot has gaping holes and any claims to a larger significance are unearned. The shock of the evening for me was Channing, whom I have always enjoyed in the past. Her face lacked expression and her delivery lacked conviction. I should add that most of the people around me responded enthusiastically to the play. I wish I could have shared their enthusiasm.
Seeing the Broadway production now, my reaction was quite different. Of the original cast, only Channing and Keach remain. I am happy to report that Channing's face has regained most of its expressiveness and her delivery most assuredly does not lack conviction. Keach's big scene in the second act remains one of the play's best moments. Rachel Griffiths as Brooke is less shrill than Marvel. Justin Kirk inhabits the role of the younger brother Trip more fully than Sadoski.  Judith Light, as Polly's sister Silda, seems to be channeling Linda Lavin, so there is no significant impact in that particular cast change. I am surprised that I had found the dialog lackluster, because this time out I thought it was both extremely funny and, at times, quite moving. The play has grown deeper, so that wide acclaim it has received is more understandable. I still think that the plot has a few problems, especially the final scene. Nevertheless, I am very glad I gave it a second chance.