Heroes of the Fourth Turning

C-

Before you look it up, The Fourth Turning is the title of a book about historical cycles much admired by Steve Bannon. The four Catholic conservatives at the center of Will Arbery’s (Plano) new drama at Playwrights Horizons hope to play a leading role during the coming era. They are gathered in Wyoming to celebrate the inauguration of a beloved professor as president of their alma mater. I looked forward to gaining some insight into the conservative mind, but I left mostly disappointed. The protagonists are a motley crew; not one of them is someone I would want to have a beer with. Justin (Jeb Kreager; Oslo), who is about ten years older than his former classmates, was married and in the military; he is teaching at the college but is having doubts about his present life. Kevin (John Zdrojeski; Before We’re Gone) is a feckless underachiever given to self-pity over not having a girlfriend and, when we meet him, very drunk. Teresa (Zoe Winters; White Noise) is a hard-edged assertive Bannonite who works in media in New York. Emily (Julia McDermott), enfeebled by a mysterious illness, is the daughter of Gina (Michelle Pawk; Hollywood Arms), the new college president. When Gina puts in an appearance to greet her former students, she does not give them the pat on the back they crave. In a post-performance talkback, the playwright revealed that, as I suspected, the characters are based on actual people. Unfortunately, he does not present them in a way that makes them easy to care about or to explain the origins of their points of view. 

The play manages to violate three of my theater commandments:

1. Thou shalt not shine bright lights in the audience’s eyes. Rather have a scrim over the stage, the production prevents you from seeing the stage beforehand by dazzling you with very bright lights. If you have a seat near the front, I advise you be seated as close to curtain time as possible so you won’t be assaulted by the lights.

2. Thou shalt not startle the audience with sudden, very loud noises. Three times we are blasted by a horrendous sound, the source of which is never revealed.

     3.  Thou shalt not run for more than two hours without an intermission. 

I might have been more willing to forgive these sins against the audience if the play had been more enlightening. 

Laura Jellinek’s (The Treasurer) set is so dimly lit that it is hard to make out. The costumes by Sarafina Bush; Pass Over) are apt. Director Danya Taymor (“Daddy,” Familiar) does not succeed in turning dross to gold.

Running time: two hours, ten minutes; no intermission.

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White Noise

B+
Since seeing Suzan-Lori Parks’s Father Comes Home From the War (Parts 1, 2 and 3) over four years ago, I have been eagerly awaiting her return to the Public Theater. The wait is finally over. However, instead of the next installment of that epic work, we have an entirely new play which takes a highly original and provocative look at interracial relations in today’s America. In it we meet four 30-ish adults, two white, two black, who have been friends since college. Leo (Daveed Diggs; Hamilton) is a black artist with insomnia and artist’s block. Ralph (Thomas Sadoski; Other Desert Cities) is an emblem of white privilege who inherited a fortune from his abusive father, but is stymied as an unpublished assistant professor. Misha (Sheria Irving; While I Yet Live) makes blackness work for her with a streaming internet show “Ask a Black.” Dawn (Zoë Winters; The Last Match, Red Speedo) is a white do-gooder whose altruism is problematic. When the play opens, Leo and Dawn are a couple, as are Ralph and Misha. We learn that back in college, Leo was paired with Misha and Ralph with Dawn. There’s also another relationship hiding out of sight. After becoming a victim of police violence, Leo makes a shocking proposal to Ralph which you may have difficulty buying into. I will not reveal it, because it would reduce the impact of discovery. I hope you can suspend your disbelief because the ramifications of their agreement are the basis for the rest of the play. Parks’s writing combines humor, drama, pathos and polemic. The actors are superb. Diggs and Sadoski are a formidable combination. The ingenious set by Clint Ramos (Wild Goose Dreams, Barbecue) contains a major surprise. The costumes by Toni-Leslie James (Come from Away, Jitney) help to develop each character. Oskar Eustis’s direction is fluid. The play could use some judicious trimming and a stronger ending. Nevertheless, it stands out as one of the most original, thought-provoking plays I have seen in quite a while. Running time: 3 hours 10 minutes, including intermission.

The Last Match

C

This new play by Anna Ziegler (A Delicate Ship, Boy) at Roundabout’s Laura Pels Theatre is nominally about tennis. The two main characters are Tim Porter (Wilson Bethel), a 34-year-old American six-time U.S. Open winner [talk about artistic license!] who has been having a bad year and is rumored to be considering retirement, and Sergei Sergeyev (Alex Mickiewicz), a hot-tempered young Russian who has yet to break into the top ten. The action of the play takes place when they meet for the semifinals of the U.S. Open. Their play is frequently interrupted by soliloquies and memory scenes involving their significant others, i.e. Tim’s wife Mallory (Zoe Winters; The Harvest) and Sergei’s girlfriend Galina (Natalia Payne; Me, Myself & I). Tennis may be at the forefront, but it is there to illustrate the clash of career and family, ambition and fulfillment, selfishness and altruism, as well as the corrosiveness of celebrity and the fickleness of the crowd. Each character has something tragic in his or her past. In one case, the tragedy threatens to overwhelm the main event. The concept of the match as a platform for backstories is an interesting one, but I didn’t think it was handled particularly well. I found much of the material a bit trite. The ending may be appropriate, but it doesn’t satisfy. The cast perform well, although I can’t vouch for the verisimilitude of the tennis strokes. The set by Tim Mackabee (Vietgone) is attractive. Bradley King’s colored lights are prettier than they are functional. Gaye Taylor Upchurch’s (Animal) direction is fluid. If you don’t know anything about tennis scoring, you may find yourself adrift. Running time: 95 minutes; no interimssion.

The Harvest *** B

One of the things that theater can do is to take us to places we are unlikely to visit and introduce us to characters the likes of whom we would probably never meet. In that regard, Samuel D. Hunter’s new play at LCT3 is a success. We meet several members of an evangelical church in Idaho Falls who are about to depart on a mission to a war-torn Middle Eastern country. (The wisdom of sending Christian missionaries to a troubled Muslim country is an issue beyond my grasp.) In the play’s attention-grabbing opening scene, we witness five church members experiencing the intense rapture of speaking in tongues. It’s a gripping five minutes and a tough act to follow. Ada (Zoe WInters), the mission leader, is several years older than the others, who seem to be in their twenties. Marcus (Christopher Sears) and Denise (Madeleine Martin) are a married couple. The sensitive Tom (Gideon Glick of Significant Other) is subject to panic attacks. Unlike the others, who are going for four months, Tom’s close friend Josh (Peter Mark Kendall) has made the commitment to stay on, perhaps for life. Three days before departure, Josh’s estranged sister Michaela (Leah Karpel) suddenly returns to town, allegedly to talk him out of going. We also meet pastor Chuck (Scott Jaeck) whose relationship to one of the missionaries is revealed late in the play. We learn something but not enough about the motivations to undertake the mission. We don’t find out much about Marcus and Denise’s background. It seemed unlikely to me that a smart, feisty woman like Denise would pick a dullard like Marcus. Hunter succeeds in establishing the centrality of the church in the lives of its members as a beacon of truth in a predominantly Mormon environment, with a mission to share their truth with Muslims. It’s a fascinating peek at an unfamiliar worldview. However, the play loses vitality along the way and, for me at least, shed more heat than light. The five talented actors who play the missionaries give it their all — they must lose a few pounds during each performance. Dane Laffrey’s set presents a convincing version of the basement of a church that doesn’t have much money. Jessica Pabst’s costumes are apt. Davis McCallum’s direction once again demonstrates a sympathy for Hunter’s sensibility. Hunter (The Whale, The Few, Pocatello), a MacArthur Fellow, is definitely a playwright to watch. He has empathy for his characters and does especially well with ensembles. I don’t think this is his best work, but it is still worthwhile. Running time: one hour 50 minutes; no intermission.

Red Speedo **

Now in previews at New York Theatre Workshop, this new play by Lucas Hnath (The Christians) addresses several issues that arise from our obsession with competitive sports, such as the commodification of athletes, the cultivation of athletic prowess to the exclusion of all else, the temptation of performance enhancing drugs and the relentless pursuit of self-interest regardless of harm to others. A strong case of pathological sibling codependency overlays the other issues. Ray (Alex Breaux) is an Olympic hopeful swimmer, whose success has come at the cost of intellectual and emotional stuntedness. His brightest idea has been to get a hideous tattoo on his back to make him more easily recognizable by television viewers. He has a great entrance in the titular swimwear, plunging into the one-lane pool with a plexiglas wall that fills the front of the set. His sleazy older brother Peter (Lucas Caleb Rooney) is also his attorney and his would-be agent. When a stash of drugs is found in the team locker room’s refrigerator, Peter tries to persuade Coach (Peter Jay Fernandez) to look the other way until after the Olympic trials so that Jay’s tentative endorsement contract with Speedo will not be threatened. Jay’s ex-girlfriend Lydia (Zoe Winters) has lost her sports therapy license, partially due to some unethical behavior by Peter. Many plots and counterplots collide. Unfortunately the play sheds far more heat than light. The lack of a sympathetic character is not necessarily fatal to my interest in a play, but it certainly doesn’t help that there is no one to root for here. Breaux looks the part and is quite convincing as Jay. Rooney’s portrayal of Peter has only one note — extremely annoying. Fernandez is OK as the coach. Winters doesn’t get much chance to make an impression. Kudos to set designer Riccardo Hernandez for a convincing set. Boos to sound designer Matt Tierney for the loud horn blasts between scenes. Fight coordinator Thomas Schall has done wonders — rarely have I seen onstage brawling that was so realistic. Director Lileana Blain-Cruz does her best with an unsatisfactory ending. Running time: 80 minutes; no intermission. NOTE: I do not recommend seats in the first two rows, because you are below the level of the pool deck.

An Octoroon ****

After showing great promise with his recent play "Appropriate" at the Signature Theatre, Brendan Jacobs-Jenkins has fulfilled that promise -- and then some -- with this new work at Soho Rep. Jacobs-Jenkins is a master at appropriating theatrical tropes and reworking them into something new and more interesting. In the earlier play, he took the Southern dysfunctional family play and turned it inside out. In the current play the object of his deconstruction is "The Octoroon," an antebellum melodrama by Irish playwright Dion Boucicault, that opened at the Winter Garden in 1859 and ran for several years in road companies. The result is a meta-melodrama unlike anything I have seen before. The play opens with a depressed black actor, BJJ (Chris Myers) claiming to be the playwright, in his underwear, discussing a recent session with his therapist, during which he reveals his admiration for Boucicault. Suddenly Boucicault (Danny Wolohan) appears onstage and a shouting match ensues. They are joined by an assistant (Ben Horner) who helps them prepare for the play. BJJ applies whiteface makeup, the white assistant puts on blackface, and Boucicault adds redface, dresses in an Indian (no political correctness here!) costume with an elaborate feather headdress and performs a vigorous dance. Suddenly the rear wall of the stage collapses forward to reveal a bright all-white set with the floor covered with cotton balls, representing the Louisiana plantation Terrebonne where the action takes place. A trio of slaves -- Minnie (Jocelyn Bloh), Dido (Marsha Stephanie Blake) and Grace (Shyko Amos) -- take the place of a Greek chorus, but one that talks trash and contemporary psychobabble. The characters include George (Myers again), the young master who loves his 1/8th black cousin Zoe (Amber Gray), the evil overseer McClosky (Myers yet again) who also desires Zoe, the wealthy heiress Dora (Zoe Winters) who wants to wed George, the old house slave Peter (Horner again), the innocent young slave Paul (Horner once more) and his devoted Indian friend Wahnotee (Wolohan again), the auctioneer LaFouche (Wolohan) and a ship captain (uncredited). They are joined onstage by cellist Lester St. Louis whose music subtly underlines the action. The dialogue blends excerpts from Boucicault's play with Jacobs-Jenkins's inventions. The cast doubling opens clever opportunities such as a one-actor fight scene between George and McClosky. Meandering through the play at several points is an enigmatic Br'er Rabbit figure, a sharply dressed rabbit/man with a cottontail and a very expressive face. (It turns out that he is none other than the playwright himself.) Director Sarah Benson works wonders with the complex material, Mimi Lien's set is amazing, Wade Laboissonniere's costumes are wonderful, as are all other aspects of the production design. My compliments to Soho Rep for mounting such an ambtious play and congratulations to the playwright for his well-deserved Obie. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes including intermission.