(Be sure to click the title to see the complete lists!)
Here, in alphabetical order, is the list of the ten plays I enjoyed most in 2011:
The Book of Mormon
By the Way, Meet Vera Stark
Chinglish
Cymbeline
4000 Miles
Good People
The Motherf**ker with the Hat
The School for Lies
Sons of the Prophet
War Horse
Here, also alphabetically, are the ten plays I enjoyed least this year:
Asuncion
Burning
Close Up Space
Dreams of Flying, Dreams of Falling
Man and Boy
Marie and Bruce
The People in the Picture
Relatively Speaking
We Live Here
Wild Animals You Should Know
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Standing on Ceremony: The Gay Marriage Plays **
(Always click on the title to see the complete review!)
Over 90 minutes, nine playlets by eight playwrights examine various aspects of marriage equality. The actors read from scripts on music stands. As in any venture of this type, the results are uneven. Most successful are two hilarious works by Paul Rudnick featuring the irrepressible Harriet Harris: in one, she is a member of a dozen anti-same-sex marriage groups who is tormented by gay voices everywhere; in the other, she is a trendy liberal New York mother who is ashamed that her gay son isn't married yet. Richard Thomas is moving in Moises Kaufman's eulogy for a partner of 46 years. Neil LaBute's overlapping monologues for two men, played by Craig Bierko and Mark Sullivan (Mark Consuelos's understudy), is called "Strange Fruit." With that title, you know things won't end happily. The remaining works, by Jordan Harrison, Wendy MacLeod, Doug Wright, Mo Gaffney and Jose Rivera don't fare as well. It's a thankless task for any actress to share a stage with the likes of Ms. Harris, but Polly Draper and Beth Leavel do their best. Behind the actors, Sarah Zeitler fills the Minetta Lane stage with transparent chairs, flower arrangements and an enormous white swag passing through two interlocked rings, dramaticallly lit by Josh Starr. Stuart Ross directed. As I looked around at the audience, it was a clear case of preaching to the choir.
Over 90 minutes, nine playlets by eight playwrights examine various aspects of marriage equality. The actors read from scripts on music stands. As in any venture of this type, the results are uneven. Most successful are two hilarious works by Paul Rudnick featuring the irrepressible Harriet Harris: in one, she is a member of a dozen anti-same-sex marriage groups who is tormented by gay voices everywhere; in the other, she is a trendy liberal New York mother who is ashamed that her gay son isn't married yet. Richard Thomas is moving in Moises Kaufman's eulogy for a partner of 46 years. Neil LaBute's overlapping monologues for two men, played by Craig Bierko and Mark Sullivan (Mark Consuelos's understudy), is called "Strange Fruit." With that title, you know things won't end happily. The remaining works, by Jordan Harrison, Wendy MacLeod, Doug Wright, Mo Gaffney and Jose Rivera don't fare as well. It's a thankless task for any actress to share a stage with the likes of Ms. Harris, but Polly Draper and Beth Leavel do their best. Behind the actors, Sarah Zeitler fills the Minetta Lane stage with transparent chairs, flower arrangements and an enormous white swag passing through two interlocked rings, dramaticallly lit by Josh Starr. Stuart Ross directed. As I looked around at the audience, it was a clear case of preaching to the choir.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Close Up Space *
The title of Molly Smith Metzler's new play at Manhattan Theatre Club's Stage I refers to a proofreading instruction. As I suffered through its long 90 minutes, it crossed my mind that the title might well be an imperative for MTC. If they can't find better plays to fill their space at City Center than the two duds we have had so far this season (the other being We Live Here), perhaps they have too much space to fill. When one purchases a subscription, one doesn't expect that every play will be a masterpiece, but one does expect better than this. The cartoonish characters include an editor (David Hyde Pierce) alienated from his teen-age daughter (Colby Minifie), who has been expelled from her latest boarding school; a socially challenged office manager (Michael Chernus); a demanding author (Rosie Perez) and a naive intern from Vassar (Jessica DiGiovanni). The twists and turns of the plot make no sense at all. Leigh Silverman, who did so well directing Chinglish, can't get this turkey to fly. A clever set by Todd Rosenthal is wasted here. Maybe MTC should cut its budget for scenic design and put that money into finding better plays.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Lysistrata Jones ***
Once again, Douglas Carter Beane has turned to ancient Greece for inspiration, this time for a modern take on Aristophanes, with music and lyrics by Lewis Flinn. In this version, now at the Walter Kerr, the cheerleaders of Athens U decide not to "give it up" to their boyfriends on the basketball team until they snap the team's 30-year losing streak. Excluding the bodacious Hetaira (look it up, folks), the combined body fat of the cast must be near zero. This incredibly talented bunch do wonders in the sensational dance numbers by director/choreographer Dan Knechtges. They dance, they sing, they act, they even shoot a few hoops. Patti Murin shines as the title character. Liz Mikel, Josh Segarra, Jason Tam and Lindsay Nicole Chambers stand out in the uniformly excellent cast of 12. The music is lively, but unmemorable. Allen Moyer's scenic design is a bit too slick for the production: who needs a back wall of annoyingly bright lights shining in the audience's eyes for a few seconds? The costumes by David C. Woodward and Thomas Charles LeGalley are terrific, especially in the final scene. Don't worry too much about the plot -- it's silly but sweet. It could use some judicious trimming in the second act. When the show was given in the gym at Judson Church last summer, it drew enthusiastic reviews, including Critic's Pick from the Times. Whether it's right for Broadway remains to be seen. I personally think it would be more successful in a less lavish production off-Broadway. In any case, I had fun and hope it succeeds. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes, including intermission.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Seminar ***
(Always click on the title to see the complete review!)
Theresa Rebeck's new play at the Golden is a guilty pleasure. If you stop to analyze it for even a moment, the plot is full of implausibilities and contrivances, but, for me at least, they were more than compensated by a terrific cast, some very funny dialogue, and a first-rate production. Alan Rickman stars as Leonard, a famous writer/editor, both sinister and sexy, who has been paid $20,000 to lead a 10-week writing seminar for four budding writers: Kate (Lily Rabe), Martin (Hamish Linklater), Douglas (Jerry O'Connell) and Izzy (Etienne Park). Each of the four has a somewhat stereotypical set of traits. The group banter is entertaining for a while. Then Leonard arrives with his take-no-prisoners critique of their writing. Egos are bruised, sheets are rumpled, careers are molded. Since onstage nudity is almost de rigeur these days, Etienne displays her lovely breasts. The focus of the play wavers and finally settles on Martin, who has thus far been unwilling to submit his work for critique. The role of Leonard is hardly a stretch for Rickman, but he handles it with subtlety. The other cast members are excellent, the direction by Sam Gold is fine, and the sets and costumes by the ubiquitous David Zinn are wonderful. There is a moment (when some of the audience thought the play had ended) when the entire set flies upward to reveal a terrific new set underneath. It's not great theater, but it's entertaining. The audience loved it. Running time: 100 minutes; no intermission.
Theresa Rebeck's new play at the Golden is a guilty pleasure. If you stop to analyze it for even a moment, the plot is full of implausibilities and contrivances, but, for me at least, they were more than compensated by a terrific cast, some very funny dialogue, and a first-rate production. Alan Rickman stars as Leonard, a famous writer/editor, both sinister and sexy, who has been paid $20,000 to lead a 10-week writing seminar for four budding writers: Kate (Lily Rabe), Martin (Hamish Linklater), Douglas (Jerry O'Connell) and Izzy (Etienne Park). Each of the four has a somewhat stereotypical set of traits. The group banter is entertaining for a while. Then Leonard arrives with his take-no-prisoners critique of their writing. Egos are bruised, sheets are rumpled, careers are molded. Since onstage nudity is almost de rigeur these days, Etienne displays her lovely breasts. The focus of the play wavers and finally settles on Martin, who has thus far been unwilling to submit his work for critique. The role of Leonard is hardly a stretch for Rickman, but he handles it with subtlety. The other cast members are excellent, the direction by Sam Gold is fine, and the sets and costumes by the ubiquitous David Zinn are wonderful. There is a moment (when some of the audience thought the play had ended) when the entire set flies upward to reveal a terrific new set underneath. It's not great theater, but it's entertaining. The audience loved it. Running time: 100 minutes; no intermission.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Maple and Vine **
The intriguing premise of Jordan Harrison's new work at Playwrights Horizons is the existence of the Society of Dynamic Obsolescence, a group that has created a community where it's always 1955. The reenactors who have moved there are fleeing the burdensome freedoms of 21st-century America for a place and time where roles may be clearly defined, choices limited, secrets hidden, repression prevalent and prejudice rampant, but where there is a stronger sense of community than now. Katha (Marin Ireland), a harried book editor, and Ryu (Peter Kim), her Japanese-American husband unhappy in his career as a plastic surgeon, are recruited for a six-month trial stay by Dean (Trent Dawson) and his wife Ellen (Jeanine Serralles), a seemingly perfect 1950's couple. Omar, Katha's gay office mate in the present, and Roger, Ryu's mercurial boss in 1955, are both played by Pedro Pascal. Serrales doubles as a worker in Katha's office. The play's premise is elaborated in many short scenes, leading to an ending that is a bit pat. The set, by Alexander Dodge, is a technical marvel: the center section of the stage disappears into the floor several times and comes up with a new set on it. Smaller modular sets are pushed around by a crew of four. Frankly, I found all the set changing a distraction. Both side aisles of the theater are used for several scenes. If you are seated in the first five or six rows, you risk whiplash spinning around trying to find the actors. I think director Anne Kauffman could have found a better solution. Ilona Somogyi's period costumes are wonderful. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes including intermission.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Happy Hour **
(Always click on the title to see the complete review!)
Ethan Coen's trio of one-act plays is the third evening of short works he has done for the Atlantic Theater. I wasn't much impressed with the other two -- and even less so with his lame contribution to "Relatively Speaking" -- so I went with low expectations. To say that this is the best of his three programs for Atlantic is not saying a lot, but it's not nothing. It begins well with "End Days," in which a depressive barfly (the excellent Gordon MacDonald) rants about the evils of the digital age. His rants alternate with short scenes of his home life. As is so often the case with Coen, he doesn't know when to stop: the play would work better if it ended after the first scene. In "City Lights," Ted, a dyspeptic musician (Joey Slotnick) tries to track down a cabbie (Rock Kohli), in whose taxi he may have left a demo tape. Ted meets an idealistic schoolteacher (Aya Cash), who takes a liking to him, and her friend (Cassie Beck), who does not. Although he retrieves his demo tape, things do not end well. This being the play in which Coen is most closely channeling Mamet, using the C word at least once is obligatory. In the final play, "Wayfarer's Inn," two road warriors forced to stay at a third-rate hotel are planning their evening. The cynical one (Clark Gregg), unhampered by guilt over adultery, is lining up a double date for himself and his depressed traveling companion (Lenny Venito), who decides not to go. A scene at an "authentic" Japanese restaurant introduces us to the two dates, one bodacious and carefree (Ana Reeder), the other (Amanda Quaid), not so much, and also the stern waitress (Susan Hyon). There's a long story about a man and a fish which each of them interprets differently. Back at the hotel, things have taken a bad turn. I was left with a feeling of frustration: Coen knows how to write a good scene, but he still hasn't figured out how to combine scenes into a cohesive whole. I wish his screenwriting skills were more in evidence. The set by Riccardo Hernandez is a bit generic. Sarah Edwards' costumes are fine. Neil Pepe directed. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.
Ethan Coen's trio of one-act plays is the third evening of short works he has done for the Atlantic Theater. I wasn't much impressed with the other two -- and even less so with his lame contribution to "Relatively Speaking" -- so I went with low expectations. To say that this is the best of his three programs for Atlantic is not saying a lot, but it's not nothing. It begins well with "End Days," in which a depressive barfly (the excellent Gordon MacDonald) rants about the evils of the digital age. His rants alternate with short scenes of his home life. As is so often the case with Coen, he doesn't know when to stop: the play would work better if it ended after the first scene. In "City Lights," Ted, a dyspeptic musician (Joey Slotnick) tries to track down a cabbie (Rock Kohli), in whose taxi he may have left a demo tape. Ted meets an idealistic schoolteacher (Aya Cash), who takes a liking to him, and her friend (Cassie Beck), who does not. Although he retrieves his demo tape, things do not end well. This being the play in which Coen is most closely channeling Mamet, using the C word at least once is obligatory. In the final play, "Wayfarer's Inn," two road warriors forced to stay at a third-rate hotel are planning their evening. The cynical one (Clark Gregg), unhampered by guilt over adultery, is lining up a double date for himself and his depressed traveling companion (Lenny Venito), who decides not to go. A scene at an "authentic" Japanese restaurant introduces us to the two dates, one bodacious and carefree (Ana Reeder), the other (Amanda Quaid), not so much, and also the stern waitress (Susan Hyon). There's a long story about a man and a fish which each of them interprets differently. Back at the hotel, things have taken a bad turn. I was left with a feeling of frustration: Coen knows how to write a good scene, but he still hasn't figured out how to combine scenes into a cohesive whole. I wish his screenwriting skills were more in evidence. The set by Riccardo Hernandez is a bit generic. Sarah Edwards' costumes are fine. Neil Pepe directed. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.
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