The Moors

C

Jen Silverman’s dark, quirky comedy for Playwrights Realm brings us the world of the Brontes with a touch of Beckett. Agatha and Huldey are sisters living in the family manse after the death of their father. Agatha, a seemingly serene spinster, as played by Linda Powell (The Christians), is a dead ringer for Gertrude Stein. Her emotionally flamboyant younger sister Huldey (Birgit Huppuch of Men on Boats) has literary pretensions and tries to read her diary to anyone who will listen. Emilie (Chasten Harmon) is a pretty young governess who has just arrived after being recruited through letters allegedly written by the sisters’ unseen brother Branwell. The reasons for his absence and for her being hired to care for a nonexistent child are eventually revealed. Hannah Cabell (Men on Boats) plays the dour Marjory, the scullery maid, and Mallory, the parlor maid, who may be the same person. Andrew Garman (The Christians) plays the sisters’ large mastiff who suffers from loneliness and depression. Teresa Avia Lim plays the injured moor-hen the mastiff takes a fancy to and has philosophical discussions with. All the repressed emotion leads to an outburst of violence, followed by a song, complete with mic. The ending is rather low-key. The subplot of the two animals is interesting, but does not really cohere with the main story. The production is first-rate. The cast is uniformly strong, the understated set by Dane Laffrey is evocative, the costumes by Anita Yavich are wonderful, the lighting by Jen Schriever is effective and there’s lots of fog. Mike Donahue’s direction is smooth. What the play lacks in coherence, it almost makes up for in cleverness and originality. It would benefit from a 15-minute trim. It was well-received by the audience, which must have had a median age below 30. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

Rancho Viejo ** C-

When I looked back at my review of Dan LeFranc’s previous production at Playwrights Horizons (The Big Meal in 2012), my heart sank. If I found that one overlong at 90 minutes, how would I possibly make it through his new 3-act play, which clocked in at 3 1/2 hours at the first preview? (It’s down to 3 hours 5 minutes as of last night.) From what I gather, there have been so many changes almost nightly that the play might be substantially different by the time it opens next week. I doubt that its essential core will be altered though. Basically, it’s a look — a long look — at the vacuousness of comfortable suburban life in a fictional community in Southern California, likely in Orange County. Add to that several absurdist touches and a few less than profound discussions of the nature of happiness and art. We meet four couples, three of retirement age and one still working, plus an enigmatic teenage boy and a scene-stealing dog. The main focus is on Pete (a marvelous Mark Blum) and Mary (a subdued Mare Winningham), a childless couple who have just moved to town and are trying without much success to fit in. Pete is a marvelous creation. If there were an Olympic event in social awkwardness, he would take home the gold. Mary might nab bronze. One of the play’s main sources of pleasure is to await the next unbelievably awkward remark out of Pete’s mouth. Forget Asperger’s; he’s on a spectrum of his own. Mary’s problem is subtler: it is her neediness for friendship that drives people away. When Pete learns that Richie, the unseen son of Patti (Julia Duffy) and Gary (Mark Zeisler), is getting divorced, he becomes inappropriately upset and obsessed with the idea of saving Richie’s marriage. The other couples are Mike (Bill Buell) and Anita (Ruth Aguilar). The vibrant Anita is Guatemalan; she has a few long speeches in Spanish that go untranslated. Leon (Tyrone Mitchell Henderson), an African-American IT guy, and Suzanne (Lusia Strus), a real estate agent with an eye problem, are an unmarried couple with a large dog Mochi (Marti). Much of the first two acts takes place at parties at the home of one couple or another. Since the same set (by Dane Laffrey) represents the generic Southwestern living room of all four homes, it is sometimes hard to figure out where a given scene is taking place. Not that it matters much. Tate (Ethan Dubin), the sullen teenager who has little to do except lurk in the first two acts, comes into focus in a very strange scene near the beginning of Act 3. Does he ever! Jessica Pabst has dressed everyone aptly. Daniel Aukin’s direction seems attuned to the material. There are several funny moments, but the plot and the character development are minimal. I doubt that these are people that you would seek out to spend an evening with. I was pleasantly surprised that very few audience members left during either intermission.

Homos, or Everyone in America ** C

Jordan Seavey’s new play at Labyrinth Theater Company presents a lot of problems. First, there’s that title. Why the pejorative? Why the claim to universality? Forget everyone in America; even with respect to the gay community, the play’s focus is on a very narrow segment. Then there’s the staging. The small theater has been reconfigured into several sections of platforms of various heights. Most of the action takes place in the narrow corridor between sections. Where you sit can either leave you too far from the actors or too close for comfort. Then there's the tricky sequencing; the story is told in fragments that move backward and forward in time. Often it’s hard to tell what precedes what. Jumbling the timeline does not lend the material greater heft. We follow the ups and downs of the relationship between The Academic (Robin de Jesus) and The Writer (Michael Urie) over several years. We also meet Dan (Aaron Costa Ganis), a hunky guy that both hanker for, and, briefly, Laila (Stacey Sargeant), a sales clerk in a fancy soap shop. For much of the play, the two lead characters are bickering. They touch base, at least superficially, with a variety of topics, both personal and social. The Writer is described at one point as a gay Woody Allen. I found him basically unsympathetic, even when played by an actor as appealing as Urie. Robin de Jesus is very strong, especially at the play's climax. The scenic design, such as it is, is by Dane Laffrey (The Christians). Jessica Pabst’s costumes are apt. Mike Donahue (The Legend of Georgia McBride) directed. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

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.

Sell/Buy/Date *** B

It’s hard to believe that 12 years have passed since I first saw the incredibly talented Sarah Jones perform “Bridge & Tunnel,” her love letter to the immigrants of New York City, in which she created about a dozen characters of different ethnicities. It moved to Broadway and was awarded a special Tony. Since then, Ms. Jones has been busy with a variety of activities, including serving as a UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador and advocating for women in the sex industry. When Manhattan Theatre Club announced her long-awaited return to the New York stage, it was cause for celebration. Once again Ms. Jones plays multiple characters, loosely connected by some involvement in selling or buying sex. The framing device has a British professor at some future time giving a lecture on changing attitudes toward sex work over the decades. Her lecture is enhanced by BERT (bio-empathetic resonant technology) which presents her students (and the audience, of course) with not only the words, but also the emotions and memories of each research subject. Most of the characters are vividly created and some of the points they make are thought-provoking. The lecture is punctuated by several interruptions during which the professor attempts to resolve a problem that is delaying her appointment as head of a new department. I thought this subplot undercut rather than enhanced the main idea. Dane Laffrey’s elegantly simple set is beautifully lit by Eric Southern. Carolyn Cantor is the director. While is was a great pleasure to see Sarah Jones again, I was slightly disappointed by the material. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

Indian Summer **

Gregory S. Moss’s new play at Playwrights Horizons has a lot going for it -- three appealing young actors — Owen Campbell, Elise Kibler and Joe Tippett — and a first-rate production with an attractive set design by Dane Laffrey featuring an inviting beach, apt costumes by Kaye Voyce, great lighting by Eric Southern and smooth direction by Carolyn Cantor. There’s a fourth actor, Jonathan Hadary, whom I usually find annoying, but in this case appropriately so, because his character is also annoying. Daniel (Campbell) is an awkward scrawny 16-year-old whose mother has dumped him for an indefinite period on his step-grandfather George (Hadary) a recently widowed eccentric, who lives in a shack in a small Rhode Island beach town. On the beach, Daniel meets Izzy, a scrappy, sexy townie. It is obvious that their initial hostility will soon change. Izzy’s boyfriend Jeremy, 10 years her senior, is a martial arts master who has developed his own private philosophy. Fortunately, Jeremy is played by Tippett (Familiar), who brings humanity to a cartoonish role. As Izzy, the stunningly gorgeous Kibler knows how to hold our attention even as the lines she must spout become increasingly implausible. I wish that the actors had not been forced to struggle with a Rhode Island accent. What starts as a simple summer idyll goes seriously off course in the second act with a bizarre scene between George and Izzy. George’s hijacking of the play’s ending is the final misstep that wiped out my early good feelings. The mostly-subscriber audience, probably relieved at not having to confront anything too edgy, loved it. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.

Fool for Love **

Full disclosure: While I have often admired Sam Shepard as an actor, his plays have never appealed to me. The overwrought characters and situations just do not draw me in. The present play, a Williamstown export to Broadway via Manhattan Theatre Club, is no exception. Had it not turned up on my subscription, I never would have seen it. Sam Rockwell and Nina Arianda play Eddie and May, a pair of sometime lovers who can’t get along with or without each other. May has tried to start a new life in a small town on the edge of the Mojave Desert, but Eddie has tracked her down and shown up at her rundown motel room to try to rekindle their relationship. Gordon Joseph Weiss is The Old Man, who, although presently unseen by the pair, has played a crucial role in shaping their lives. Tom Pelphrey plays Martin, May’s intended date for the evening, with delightful obtuseness. Ariana and Weiss are fine. Although Rockwell certainly aced his lasso lessons, I wish he displayed more of the charisma that would explain his hold over May. The big secret seemed more like a plot contrivance than an organic development. Dane Laffrey’s set for the motel room goes beyond seedy. Anita Yavich’s costumes are apt. The lighting design by Justin Townsend and the sound design by Ryan Rumery add much to the production. The initial scenes seemed a bit slack, but director Daniel Aukin picks up the pace as the play progresses. I wish I had found it more involving. Running time: 70 minutes, no intermission. It seemed longer.

Cloud Nine *** (performance) / zero stars (audience comfort)

There were two problems interfering with my enjoyment of the Atlantic Theater revival of this groundbreaking Caryl Churchill play from 1979 now previewing at the Linda Gross Theater. First, my fond memories of the 1981 production at the Theater de Lys set the bar extremely high. Secondly, the seating is terribly uncomfortable. In principle, I have no objection to the theater’s decision to spend what was no doubt a large amount of money to pull out all the seats and erect stadium-like bleachers to provide theater in the round. Director James Macdonald had great success with that formula when he staged “Cock” three years ago. At least this time the seats are padded and have backs. However, in order to preserve the usual number of seats, they skimped on the space between rows. If you are of average height or taller, there is simply not enough legroom and there are no seat arms for stability. It is hard to concentrate on the actors when you are struggling to find room for your legs. It’s a shame, because both the play and the production have their merits. Churchill has devised a complicated scheme whereby the first act takes place in colonial Africa in 1880, the second act takes place in London a century later, but the three characters carried over from the first act have only aged 25 years and are played by different actors. Clive (Clarke Thorell) is an English functionary in a colonial outpost. His wife Betty (Chris Perfetti) [who the playwright specifies must be played by a man], their effeminate son Edward (Brooke Bloom) [specified to be played by a woman], their daughter Victoria [played by a doll], the children’s governess Ellen (Izzie Steele) and Betty’s mother Maud (Lucy Owen) are soon joined by an explorer friend Harry Bagley (John Sanders).The family’s African manservant is Joshua (Sean Dugan) [specified to be played by a Caucasian]. Their neighbor Mrs. Saunders [specified to be played by the same actress who plays Ellen] moves in when she becomes alarmed at the prospect of native unrest. An age of sexual repression doesn’t slow down this crowd much. We soon learn of pederasty, homosexuality, lesbianism, interracial sex and adultery. The style of the first act is heightened and a bit arch. In the second, much more naturalistic act, we once again meet Betty (now played by Bloom), Edward (now played by Perfetti) and Victoria (now played by  Owen). New are Gerry (Dugan), Edward’s promiscuous roommate; Lin (Steele), a single mother and lesbian with a free-spirited young daughter Cathy (Thorell) [specified to be played by a man] and Victoria’s husband Martin (Sanders). There is a brief appearance by Lin’s brother Bill (Thorell again). For an age of sexual liberation, the playwright adds incest and orgies to the activities of act one. Liberation has not brought much happiness to the characters, except for Betty who finally manages to find a path forward. I remember the play’s final moment where she achieves self-integration as magical in 1981. It didn’t have that effect on me this time. I could not help feeling nostalgic for the time in which act two is set — just before AIDS put a damper on sexual liberation and the worst international crisis was conflict in Northern Ireland. The actors are fine without exception and it is fun to see them change roles. Credit — or blame —Dane Laffrey for the set. Gabriel Berry’s costumes are fine. Dialect coach Ben Furey has done his job well. It is good that Atlantic has revived the play that brought Caryl Churchill to major attention. If only they had given some thought to audience comfort. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes including intermission.

The Christians **

My college roommate made a useful distinction between “interesting” and “enjoyable.” I would have to put this new play by Lucas Hnath now previewing at Playwrights Horizons, in the former category. Hnath’s ambition in tackling the thorny topic of religion, his unusual structuring, his stylistic choices such as having the actors only speak through microphones are all intriguing. And yet, the results, at least for me, were less than stirring. The imposing set that greets us shows the platform of a church, complete with burnished wood, five throne-like chairs, a gigantic illuminated cross, an organ and huge television screens. A choir of 20 serenades us. Four of the characters are seated. Each has a mic tethered to a cord. Paul (a plausibly charismatic Andrew Garman), pastor of the impressive megachurch that is celebrating paying off its debt, gives a sermon that includes a drastic reinterpretation of an important church tenet. Joshua (Larry Powell), the associate pastor, who cannot accept the new dogma, is forced to resign and takes 50 congregants with him. Church elder Jay (Philip Kerr) tries unsuccessfully to be a mediator. When Jenny (Emily Donahoe), a seemingly naive congregant emerges from the choir to give testimony, she raises a series of provocative questions both about the content of the sermon and its timing, Paul’s answers make a bad situation worse. When he turns to his wife Elizabeth (Linda Powell), who has been sitting there for an hour without saying a word, for support, he does not get the response he expects. Joshua returns briefly to explain his views to Paul. In an effective scene, we get Paul’s inner thoughts whispered through his mic. We can follow Paul’s deepening crisis through the way he handles his mic cord through the play, first wrangling it like a cowboy and eventually struggling not to get tripped by it. The ending of the play is quiet and flat. Dane Laffrey's set is a knockout. Connie Furr Soloman's costumes are apt. Les Waters's direction is assured. I admire Hnath’s bold ambition and look forward to his upcoming play at New York Theatre Workshop. I just wish the results had turned out better this time. Running time 95 minutes, no intermission.

King Liz ***

Karen Pittman, so good recently in “Disgraced” both off and on Broadway, is the main reason to see this soapy sports drama by Fernanda Coppel (Chimichangas and Zoloft) at Second Stage Uptown. Pittman plays Liz Rico, an African-American woman in her 40s who has moved from life in the projects to the top ranks of sports agents. When her boss Mr. Candy (Michael Cullen) urges her to recruit Freddie Luna (an excellent Jeremie Harris), a high school kid from Red Hook with a juvie record, she follows her ambition rather than her judgment. Things do not turn out well for either of them. There is a subplot about romance between Liz and Coach Jones (a fine Russell G. Jones). Some of the better moments depict Liz’s rough relationship with Gabby Fuentes (Irene Sofia Lucio), her ambitious assistant. Caroline Lagerfelt plays Barbara Flowers, an allegedly friendly TV interviewer. Some of the writing is heavy-handed and the second act drifts toward melodrama, but the quality of Pittman’s performance makes it worth seeing. It’s never less than lively. Dane Laffrey’s sleek set is attractive and flexible. Jessica Pabst’s costumes are apt. Lisa Peterson’s direction is assured. Running time: 2 hours 5 minutes including intermission.

Iowa ***

Playwright Jenny Schwartz combines a quirky sensibility with a marvelous facility for language. Her characters speak in riffs and arias. When she is at her best (God’s Ear), the results are wonderful, but on an off-day (Somewhere Fun), they can be dreadful. While her new absurdist comedy with music, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, does not reach the heights of “God’s Ear,” it has some very good moments. Becca (Jill Shackner) is a 14-year-old who must abruptly leave her high school to move to Iowa, where her mother Sandy’s (the hilarious Karen Quackenbush) Facebook fiancé Roger (Lee Sellars) lives. After an opening song by a child (Kolette Tetlow) whose identity is not immediately revealed, there are about 20 minutes before we hear the next song. Fortunately, this time is mostly filled by a virtually non-stop wacky monologue by Sandy. I was almost sorry when it ended and the music resumed. Early on we meet Becca’s sole friend Amanda (Carolina Sanchez), a misunderstood cheerleader (Annie McNamara), four versions of Nancy Drew including one who is African-American (April Matthis), Becca’s remote father Jim (Sellars again) and his pregnant girlfriend Liz (CIndy Cheung), Becca’s math teacher Mr. Hill, on whom she has a crush (Sellars once more) and a randy singing pony (Sellars yet again). The frequency and importance of the songs (music by Todd Almond, lyrics by Almond and Schwartz) picks up as the play progresses. A trio of piano, viola and bass produces a lovely sound soft enough to avoid the need to mic the singers. About 2/3 of the way through the play, Becca and Sandy reach Iowa. The mood abruptly shifts and, for me, the play lost much of its vitality. I did not care for the Iowa scenes, but they did not seriously diminish my appreciation for what came before. The scenic design by Dane Laffrey is simple but effective. Arnulfo Maldonado’s costumes are delightful. Ken Rus Schmoll’s direction is assured. Schwartz has an original voice and it was good to see her work again. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes, no intermission.

The Few **

Longtime readers of this blog know that I have little taste for plays set in trailers. Once again, I am reminded why by this latest work of playwright Samuel D. Hunter, chronicler of marginalized Idahoans. Although his previous play, The Whale, won many prizes, I found its characters too grotesque to care very much about, much as I admired Shuler Hensley’s fantastic performance in that play.  The three characters in his new play, now at Rattlestick Playwrights Theater, are far less extreme and easier, at least for me, to feel compassion for. They are Bryan (Michael Laurence), a former trucker who founded a newspaper for lonely truckers, his high school friend and lover QZ (Tasha Lawrence) and a needy effeminate teenager Matthew (Jacob Perkins, u/s for Gideon Glick) who has helped QZ (no explanation for her strange name is given) run the newspaper since Bryan abruptly disappeared four years ago after the funeral of their trucker friend and newspaper co-founder Jim. In Bryan’s absence, QZ has turned the newspaper, called “The Few,” from a financial flop into a barely viable entity by shedding its content to concentrate on personal ads for truckers. Matthew, Jim’s nephew, who has been rescued by QZ from an abusive family, hopes that Bryan’s return will restore the glory days of the newspaper, when its office, the cluttered double-wide trailer skillfully realized by Dane Laffrey’s set, will once again be a welcoming oasis for alienated truckers. Gradually — very gradually — we learn the reason’s for Bryan’s departure and his sudden return. I felt that a viable one-act play had been stretched to make an evening of it. The acting is first-rate and Davis McCallum’s sympathetic direction shows the material to best advantage. Jessica Pabst’s costumes are fine too. Some of the telephone recording of trucker personals are amusing. I liked it better than The Whale, but that isn’t saying a lot. Running time: 1 hr 40 minutes, no intermission.

NOTE: I must confess that I really do not like attending plays at The Rattlestick. There is no handicap access, the stairways within the theater are rickety, the absence of an aisle on one side of the theater is a safety hazard, the seats are barely more comfortable than rocks, and the offstage bathrooms make the starting time dependent on people’s bladders. I try hard not to let the decrepit surroundings influence my opinion of the play, but I wish a wealthy benefactor would favor Rattlestick with the money to bring the place into the 21st century.

Bad Jews ***

Roundabout Underground, now in its 6th year as a home for emerging playwrights, has an impressive track record for discovering new talent like Stephen Karam (Speech and Debate, Sons of the Prophet). Whether Joshua Harmon, author of this world premiere production, will also go on to greater things remains to be seen. In Bad Jews, three grandchildren of a just-deceased patriarch are forced to share an apartment overnight. Liam Haber (Michael Zegen), a graduate student in Japanese studies, has nothing but disdain for organized religion. He has missed the funeral because he was skiing in Aspen with his shiksa girlfriend Melody (Molly Ranson, recently seen as Carrie). His younger brother Jonah (Philip Ettinger) is a severely withdrawn college student, who only wants to play video games and avoid conflict. Last but certainly not least is the brothers' cousin Daphna (formerly Diane) Feygenbaum (Tracee Chimo, recently seen in Harvey), soon to graduate Vassar and then join her alleged boyfriend in Israel. Daphna is an unattractive, relentlessly abrasive, holier-than-thou, self-centered, covetous, domineering, hyperactive, logorrheic termagant. The role is an actress's dream: it probably is not true, but it seems that she has more dialog than the other three actors combined. Liam and Daphna passionately detest each other; their conflict over which one should receive their grandfather's chai necklace is the main focus. The play has many shortcomings, but it does have a lot of vitality. Daniel Aukin's direction is assured. Lauren Helpern's set and Dane Laffrey's costumes are fine. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes without intermission.

Disgraced ****

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
Ayad Akhtar is having a banner year -- his first novel, American Dervish, was well-received last winter and this play, his first, has arrived at LCT3's Claire Tow Theater after making big waves in Chicago. It is easy to see why. In 90 tightly-plotted minutes, the playwright raises serious issues about life in contemporary America that, because they are painful, are usually ignored. The protagonist is Amir (Aasif Mandvi), a self-hating first-generation Pakistani-American, who has broken his ties with Islam. His blonde all-American wife Emily (Heidi Armbruster) is a painter who has found her inspiration in Islamic art. Isaac (Erik Jensen) is a Jewish gallery owner who is considering including Emily's work in an upcoming show. His African-American wife Jory (Karen Pittman) and Amir are both associates in the same New York law firm. Amir has a young nephew Abe (Omar Maskati) who has changed his name from Hussein; although largely assimilated, he is still a devout Muslim. When Emily and Abe bully Amir into attending a court hearing for an imam who has been accused of raising money for terrorists, things do not turn out well. At a dinner party for the two couples, prickly conversation escalates into verbal warfare and the evening ends disastrously. A final scene set several months later gives further insight into living as a Muslim-American, but does not provide a strong ending. The cast is quite good except for Mandvi, whose portrayal of Amir would profit from greater nuance and less stridency. Kimberly Senior's direction keeps things from lagging. Lauren Helpern's lovely set of a spacious Upper East Side apartment with modernist furnishings and a terrace will inspire real estate envy in most Manhattanites. Dane Laffrey's costumes are fine too. The powerful dinner party scene will probably stick in my memory longer than I would like. Tickets are only $20.