Somewhere Fun *

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
I am sorry to report that Jenny Schwartz's surrealist comedy now at the Vineyard Theatre is not on the level of her well-regarded "God's Ear" of a few years back. After a promising, delightful first act, it goes off the rails and spins its wheels for two more acts. Although it's always a pleasure to see Kathleen Chalfant (despite the fact her role here not so cleverly recalls her part in "Wit"), the biggest treat here is Kate Mulgrew, who has a brilliant monologue (dialogue if you count the few words her friend is able to get in) before her character melts into a puddle on the street. Chalfant plays Evelyn Armstrong, who is dying of anal cancer. Mulgrew is Rosemary Rappaport, a long-lost friend she runs into on Madison Avenue. Rosemary' estranged son Benjamin (Greg Keller, recently of "Belleville") was a childhood friend of Evelyn's daughter Beatrice (Brooke Bloom), who lost her face to a Dalmatian. Rosemary's real estate client Cecilia (Mary Shulz) is a widow looking for love on the internet. Richard Bekins is T, Evelyn's emotionally distant husband. Maria Elena Ramirez is Lolita, her health care aide. Griffin Birney and Makenna Ballard appear as the young Benjamin and Bernice. Schwartz's clever word play grew tedious after a while. I would have left happy if the play ended after the first act, but my good feelings had evaporated long before the play finally ended. Marsha Ginsberg's set is simple and uncluttered and Jessica Pabst's costumes are fine. I don't know what more director Anne Kauffman could have done to whip the play into a coherent whole. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes, including two short intermissions.

A Kid Like Jake ***

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
As the recipient of the prestigious Laurents-Hatcher prize for 2013, Daniel Pearle's new play arrives at LCT3's Claire Tow Theater with expectations high. By and large, these expectations have been met and its worthiness for an award is clear. This tale of a Manhattan couple, probably Upper West Siders, struggling through the process of getting their only child into a prestigious private school has a twist: Little Jake, whom we never meet, is obsessed with Cinderella and likes to dress up like a girl. Jake's mom Alex (Carla Gugino), who abandoned a career in dance for the law and then for full-time motherhood, is still emotionally fragile after a recent miscarriage. Her husband Greg (Peter Grosz) is a laid-back psychotherapist. They are not sure whether Jake's predilection for "gender-variant" play, with which they seem mostly comfortable, is an obstacle to admission or, as their counselor/friend Judy (Caroline Aaron) suggests, a selling point for a school to achieve diversity. The application process with its essays, testing, visits, interviews and strategizing places their marriage under tremendous pressure that eventually opens fissures that release a painful outpouring of raw emotion. The three lead actors are superb and the buildup to their catharsis is gripping. I have qualms about the penultimate scene with Alex and a nurse (Michelle Beck), but my reaction to the play as a whole is overwhelmingly positive. Andromache Chalfant's flexible set serves well as several locales. Jessica Wegener Shay's costumes do not call attention to themselves. Evan Cabnet's direction is assured. Running time: one hour, 45 minutes, no intermission. Note: I am told that the entire run is sold out, but watch for a possible extension. Incidentally, LCT3's marketing plan finally seems to be paying off -- the audience had a substantially higher percentage of young people than usual.

The Silver Cord *

Peccadillo Theater Company specializes in reviving classic American plays. Some years back, I attended their fine production of Elmer Rice’s Counsellor-at-Law, which went on to win awards for best revival and best direction. Thus I was eager to see their current offering, Sidney Howard’s “Freudian melodrama,” which was a Broadway hit in the 1926-27 season and was later adapted for film. The fact that Peccadillo had already revived it once, 18 years ago, piqued my curiosity even more. Howard wrote this play the year after he won the Pulitzer for They Knew What They Wanted (later musicalized as The Most Happy Fella). Alas, the years have not been kind to The Silver Cord. This tale of a pathologically overprotective, manipulative mother may have seemed fresh, original and even shocking almost 80 years ago, but now seems tired, overheated and unintentionally funny. When I discovered that Mrs. Phelps would be played by a man, Dale Carman, I worried that might lead to campiness. On the contrary, Carman gives a subdued performance, which may have been the wrong way to go. The level of performance of the cast, which includes Thomas Matthew Kelley as David, the elder son, Victoria Mack as Christina, his feminist wife, Wilson Bridges as wimpy younger brother Robert and Caroline Kaplan as his flapper fiancee, is disappointing, but it would be unkind to be too hard on any actors forced to mouth such ludicrous dialog. Harry Feiner’s set, Gail Cooper-Hecht’s costumes and Gerard James Kelly’s wigs are fine. I cannot imagine what prompted artistic director Dan Wackerman to revive and helm this chestnut a second time. If nothing else, it proves that not every play a Pulitzer-winner writes will be a gem. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes including intermission.

Venice **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)

After productions in Kansas City and Los Angeles, this hip-hop musical “inspired by” Othello has arrived at the Public Theater. Shakespeare’s plot has been so substantially reworked that you would do well to forget that connection. Shakespeare did not give us a dystopian society, chemical warfare, government by corporation enforced by mercenaries, revolution, half-brothers, a Lady Gaga-type singer or a bomb at a public occasion (too soon after Boston, in my opinion). The book by Eric Rosen, who also directed, is cluttered and overcomplicated. The music is by Matt Sax, who collaborated with Rosen on the lyrics. There is also a frustratingly vague credit for additional music by Curtis Moore. Sax, who appears as the play’s MC, bears an uncanny resemblance to Lin Manuel Miranda. So do his lyrics (maybe all hip-hop just sounds alike to my uneducated ear.) The cast is generally strong. For me the standouts were Leslie Odom Jr. (Sam on “Smash”) in the Iago-like role and Victoria Platt as Emilia, his wife. Haaz Sleiman (“Nurse Jackie”) and Jennifer Damiano (“Next to Normal”) are fine as the central couple, Venice and Willow. Jonathan-David (“A Civil War Christmas”) and Claybourne Elder (“One Arm”) make the most of their parts. While I found hip-hop appropriate for “In the Heights”, it seemed monotonous and alien here. Some of the musical numbers that break away from sing-song are quite moving, particularly a duet for Willow and Emilia in Act Two. The ending with the MC’s reminder that it’s just a play, followed by an upbeat song, struck a false note. Since this is a Lab production, the set and costumes, by Beowulf Boritt and Clint Ramos respectively, are simple but effective. The audience was wildly appreciative. I would not be surprised if it moves to an extended run at another venue. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes with intermission.

The Explorers Club ***

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
If you go to Nell Benjamin's new play now in previews at Manhattan Theatre Club's Stage I, be sure to arrive a few minutes early so you will have time to savor Donyale Werle's spectacular set. Just seeing this recreation of a Victorian men's club in London with its dark paneling, oriental rugs, stuffed animals, animal heads, horns, tusks and pelts, shrunken heads, spears and swords is almost worth the price of admission. Another reason to see the show is a brilliant piece of stage business in the second act that elicits appreciative gasps from the audience each time it is repeated. A final plus is the superb ensemble cast giving their all to animate what is billed as a "madcap comedy." Carson Elrod, who was so good in All in the Timing recently, is wonderful as Luigi, the blue-painted native brought back from the Lost City by Phyllida Spot-Hume (Jennifer Westfeldt), who would like to become the first woman in the Explorers Club. Lorenzo Pisoni, who usually plays a heartthrob, is cast against type as Lucius Fretway, a shy, clumsy botanist who yearns for Phyllida. David Furr is delightful as Harry Percy, the club's none-too-bright president, whose expeditions have an unusually high mortality rate. John McMartin is droll as a Professor of Bible Science whose hypothesis that the Irish are the lost tribes of Israel causes an international incident. A snafu when Luigi is presented to the Queen leads to a declaration of war. Act One gets a bit bogged down in exposition and seems more like satire than farce. Act two, however, rises to hilarity several times. I wish the humor had been more consistently maintained, but it would be churlish to dislike a play that is so amiable. Anita Yavich's costumes are excellent. Marc Bruni's direction is mostly smooth. Running time: one hour, 50 minutes with intermission.

3 Kinds of Exile **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
John Guare's strange hodgepodge for the Atlantic Theater Company throws together three pieces loosely connected by the theme of exile. The first piece "Karel" is an extended anecdote about a man with a seemingly incurable rash, who, at the age of 12, had been sent to England with the Kindertransport and had remained there. Martin Moran tells the slight but interesting tale well.

The second piece "Elzbieta Erased" is a reworking of a one-act play Guare wrote for Atlantic's 25x10 series a few years ago about famous Polish actress Elzbieta Czyzewska. The author, playing himself, and charismatic actor Omar Sangare, portraying several characters including the actress, give us the highlights of her life -- a successful career in Poland, following by expulsion after her marriage to David Halberstam and her years in America, repeatedly dogged by bad luck. Her story is fascinating, but the telling is a bit too long.

If only there were an intermission at this point, one could escape "Funiage," a biographical sketch about absurdist novelist and playwright Witold Gombrowicz, who spent much of his adult life in Argentinian exile. Guare has chosen to emulate his subject's style with an absurdist approach incorporating Brechtian touches. It's hard to sit through. Against all odds, David Pittu as Gombrowicz acquits himself honorably. The rest of the ensemble shall remain nameless. Neil Pepe directed. The talent the playwright once exhibited with House of Blue Leaves, Six Degrees of Separation and Lydie Breeze is not apparent here. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Murder Ballad **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
This through-sung rock opera by Julia Jordan and Juliana Nash, which received positive reviews at Manhattan Theater Club Stage II last year, has reopened at the Union Square Theater, which has been reconfigured for the occasion. Traditional seats in a U surround a central area set up as a bar, complete with pool table and cabaret seating for those who want to be in on the action. The four characters are lovely Sara (Cassie Levy), who, after a tempestuous affair with hot bartender Tom (Will Swenson), settles for marriage to Michael (John Ellison Conlee), an older, less photogenic professor of poetry. (Too bad the professor wasn't available to assist with the lame lyrics.) When Sara gets the seven year itch and resumes her affair with Tom, there's trouble, as sexy narrator (Rebecca Naomi Jones) tells us. I wish I could join the chorus of praise for the show, but it did not engage me at any level. The tabloid-worthy tale, the deafening music, the pointless running to and fro and standing on chairs were turnoffs for me. I did not particularly care who would be murdered or who did it. The performances are energetic and the voices are fine when they can be heard over the musicians. The large set, designed by Mark Wendland, diffuses the action too much. Jessica Pabst's costumes are apt. Ben Stanton's garish lighting in neon colors is bilious. Trip Cullman's direction seems to be based on the idea that if you keep the actors running around enough, no one will notice the thinness of the material. I might have liked it better had I not seen the other far better environmental pop opera ("Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812") first, but I doubt it. Fairness compels me to state that most of the audience seemed to be enjoying it. Running time:  80 minutes without intermission.