Verité **

I envied the people around me who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves at a preview performance of Nick Jones’s new play at LCT3. From the get-go, I did not buy into the play’s premise — that a mysterious publishing house whose catalog cannot be found on the “normal” internet would offer a $50,000 advance to Jo Darum (Anna Camp), a stay-at-home suburban mom, whose only work is a fantasy novel that took her over a decade to complete, to write a memoir for them. The stipulations are that she make “interesting choices” in her life and write only about things that actually happened. Jo lives with her blue-collar husband Josh (Danny Wolohan) and young son Lincoln (Oliver Hollmann) in the attic apartment of Josh’s sister Liz’s (Jeanine Serralles) home. The comic/creepy publishers Sven (Robert Sella) and Andreas (Matt McGrath) have broad accents that somehow simultaneously combine elements from Scandinavia and South Asia. When the handsome Winston (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) appears, claiming to be a former high school classmate who has long had a crush on her, Jo assumes that he is a ringer, sent by the publishers to help her make some interesting choices. She refuses to join her family for a trip to Myrtle Beach and instead runs off with Winston. Complications ensue. I won’t give away more except to say there is an amusing surprise ending. The tone varies from satire to farce to melodrama. The characters seemed one-dimensional and the theme of illustrating the lengths people will go to achieve recognition seemed a bit tired. Although there were flashes of wit along the way, the play did not involve me sufficiently to care much about the outcome. Andrew Boyce has devised a rotating modular set that works efficiently. (I am still trying to figure out how he managed to change the contents of an onstage refrigerator.) Paloma Young’s costumes are amusingly apt, especially Sven and Andreas’s footwear. Director Moritz von Stuelpnagel’s (Hand of God) direction is uncluttered. Running time: one hour, 40 minutes; no intermission.

Pocatello ***

In the last three years, Samuel D. Hunter has garnered Obie, Drama Desk, Lucille Lortel and GLAAD awards and, most recently, a MacArthur Fellowship. He is regarded as one of our most promising young playwrights. However, I was not smitten either by The Whale (despite a memorable performance by Shuler Hensley) or by The Few. His interest in chronicling the lives of marginalized Idahoans seemed too limited. I am happy to report that I found his latest play, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, considerably more ambitious and universal. Even though the setting is once again Idaho, the location could be any small American city experiencing economic decline and a loss of its uniqueness. Hunter compassionately illustrates the psychological damage on ten people whose hometown has slid into a jumble of fast food joints and big box stores. The lead character is Eddie (T.R. Knight), manager of the failing local outlet of a national Italian restaurant chain known for its soft breadsticks and salads. One would think that a sensitive gay man would flee Pocatello at his earliest opportunity, but Eddie feels strong roots dating back to his great-grandfather and has delusions that he can somehow forestall the closing of the restaurant and reunite, however briefly, his fractured family. His cold, distant mother Doris (Brenda Wehle) seems to want to have nothing to do with him. His older brother Nick (Brian Hutchison), who has only come back from Minnesota for a brief visit at the urging of his wife Kelly (Crystal Finn), cannot contain his eagerness to get away as rapidly as possible. Troy (Danny Wolohan), the waiter who has known Eddie since childhood, has a troubled marriage. His wife Tammy (Jessica Dickey) has a problem trying to stay on the wagon, their bright but troubled 17-year-old daughter Becky (Leah Karpel) is so environmentally concerned that she can barely eat, and Troy’s father Cole (Jonathan Hogan) suffers from dementia. Waiter Max (Cameron Scoggins) is grateful to Eddie for being the only employer in town willing to hire him after his stint in drug rehab. Waitress Isabelle (Elvy Yost) tries to skim along life’s surface without making waves. The opening scene, with all ten characters onstage, is quite a tour de force. Hunter generously gives each character at least a moment in the spotlight that gives us insight into what makes them tick. The cast is very strong, especially Knight as Eddie. One look into the combination of hurt and hope in his eyes speaks more than paragraphs of dialogue. Davis McCallum’s direction is superb. There is a silent moment when Tammy decides whether to take a drink of wine that is almost painful to watch. Lauren Helpern’s set accurately captures the look of a faux-Italian chain restaurant and Jessica Pabst’s costumes suit the characters well. There is more than enough sorrow to go around, especially for a relatively brief play. The ending needs to be more emphatic — no one applauded until the lights came up as if uncertain the play had really ended. The play impressed me as a big step forward for Hunter. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes, no intermission.

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.

The Patron Saint of Sea Monsters *

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
The lifelike stuffed animals surrounding the set were the first sign of trouble. The inclusion on the list of characters of "Animals, both real and imagined" was the next. The opening scene of the play that revealed who the play was about was, for me, strike three. Readers of this blog will know by now that I am not drawn to plays about people who live in trailers. Call me a snob if you like, but that's just how it is. And so I knew I was in for a rough evening getting through Marlane Meyer's ambitious new work now in previews at Playwrights Horizons. Her script throws together obsessive love, faith, the veneration of saints, animism, broad satire, social commentary and fantasy. Will the love of a good woman (Laura Heisler) redeem a sinful man (Rob Campbell) or will he drag her down to his level? About 10% of the audience will never know, because they fled at intermission. Lucky them. On the plus side, the versatile cast does wonders playing multiple roles, especially Candy Buckley and Danny Wolohan. There are some entertaining moments along the way, but not enough to hold my interest. Rachel Hauck did the set and Paloma Young created the amusing costumes. Lisa Peterson directed. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes including intermission.