The End of Longing

D+

The final play in MCC’s season at the Lucille Lortel Theatre marks the debut of Matthew Perry (TV’s Friends) both as playwright and as New York stage actor. I wish I could say that his dual debut were more auspicious. MCC’s promotional material describes this “bittersweet comedy” as follows: “An alcoholic, an escort, a self-diagnosed neurotic and a well-intentioned dimwit walk into a bar... “ That would be the forlorn Perry, the luscious Jennifer Morrison (ABC's Once Upon a Time), the hilarious Sue Jean Kim (Aubergine) and the laid-back Quincy Dunn-Baker (The Wayside Motor Inn). In a rapid succession of short scenes, we learn what happens when they pair off into two unlikely couples. I could not get past the implausibility of a gorgeous, smart woman settling for a downbeat older lush. The pairing of an tightly-wound texting addict with an easygoing construction worker was only slightly more plausible. The play’s prevailing levity turns darker near the end, but then reverts to a predictable happy ending. Kim and Dunn-Baker do wonders to flesh out their basically one-note characters. Morrison does reasonably well with the thankless task of making her character seem believable. Perry is a notch below the others. While a failure on many levels, the play does have some good one-liners. Derek McLane’s revolving set cleverly lines the walls and even the ceiling with squares of wine and liquor bottles. Sarah Laux’s costumes are apt. Lindsay Posner's direction is brisk, perhaps to prevent us from having too much time to think about the play’s flaws. Matthew Perry is apparently still a big draw; after the play the street was crowded with people outside the stage door. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

The Price

B+

While Arthur Miller’s 1968 play is not generally considered among his best, this is its fourth Broadway revival and the second by Roundabout Theatre. Clearly, it has its advocates. It stands out from most of Miller’s plays in that there is quite a bit of humor, at least in the first act, and it is told in real time on a single set. It has four juicy roles that, in this case, are filled by a starry cast. Mark Ruffalo plays Victor Franz, a NYC cop nearing 50, who is in the attic of the townhouse where he grew up, waiting for a furniture dealer to arrive to make an offer on all the old-fashioned heavy furniture stored there. He is joined by his wife Esther (Jessica Hecht), who has never fully accepted the limited expectations her marriage has brought. The furniture dealer who eventually arrives is Gregory Solomon (Danny DeVito), an 89-year-old man, who provides both comic relief and wisdom. We learn that Victor has been estranged from his elder brother Walter (Tony Shalhoub) since their father’s death 16 years ago. The Depression left their father a hollowed-out man after he lost all his money, his wife died, and the family was forced to move into the attic of their townhouse. While Walter stayed in medical school and became a wealthy surgeon, Victor dropped out of college to care for his father, gave up his dream of being a scientist, lived with his father in dire poverty until joining the police force. Victor has attempted to contact Walter to notify him about selling the family furniture, but Walter has not returned his calls. After lots of back and forth, Victor and Solomon reach a deal. Solomon is in the midst of paying Victor in $100 bills when Walter suddenly arrives, ending Act One. Most of the overlong second act is the confrontation between Victor and Walter, during which old grievances are aired and new realizations are formed. Tony Shalhoub, resplendent in his camel hair coat and shiny suit, is superb as the smooth-talking Walter, perhaps the most complex character. The role of Esther fits Jessica Hecht like a glove and she gives one of her best performances in years. Casting Danny DeVito as Solomon was a stroke of genius. It is hard to believe that this is his Broadway debut. Though tiny in stature, he is a commanding presence. Mark Ruffalo, an actor I greatly admire, does not seem entirely comfortable in the role of Victor, although his performance improves as the play progresses. Derek McClane’s wonderfully cluttered set has dozens of pieces of furniture hanging from the ceiling, but has no walls so we see a city skyline of water towers against a cloudy sky. Sarah J. Holden’s costumes are perfection. Unlike Ivo van Hove’s recent versions of A View from the Bridge and The Crucible, director Terry Kinney has taken the play at face value, rather than attempting to force his stamp upon it. Miller doesn’t need gimmicks. Running time: two hours, 40 minutes including intermission.

Gently Down the Stream

B

It has been far too long since we have had a play by Martin Sherman (Bent, When She Danced) on a New York stage. Thanks to the Public Theater, the drought is over. Even better, it has Gabriel Ebert (4,000 Miles, Matilda, Preludes) as one of its two leads. As Rufus, a bipolar Brit with a penchant for older men, Ebert once again proves that he is one of the finest actors of his generation. Beau, the expat cocktail pianist who is the object of his attention, is played by Harvey Fierstein (Torch Song Trilogy, Hairspray), which, depending on your point of view, is either the best or worst thing about the play. Listening to Fierstein’s raspy voice for an extended period has always been a problem for me. In this case, the problem is compounded by the New Orleans accent by way of Brooklyn that he adopts. That's a lot to get through to appreciate the subtle acting beneath. Christopher Spears (The Harvest) is fine in the third, smaller role of Harry. His rendition of “The Man I Love” is not one you’ll soon forget, even if no match for the snippets of Mabel Mercer songs that punctuate the play. The importance of oral history to preserve the lives of marginalized people that society prefers to disregard is one of the play’s themes. Illustrating how relationships change over time is another. There are several monologues for Beau that eventually explain why he has become so mistrustful of the possibility of happiness for gay men. What he reveals about the gay history of the last 50 years contains little that will be unfamiliar to a New York audience. Sherman’s dialogue sparkles with wit, but his structure is a bit lumpy and the final scene seems pasted on. Derek McClane’s (Noises Off, I Am My Own Wife) set presents a London flat guaranteed to inspire real estate envy. The costumes by Michael Krass (Noises Off, Machinal) are apt. Director Sean Mathias (Waiting for Godot, No Man’s Land) manages to minimize the play’s structural problems. While the play doesn’t represent Sherman at his best, it still provides an entertaining and occasionally moving evening. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission.

If I Forget

B

If the goal of Steven Levenson (The Unavoidable Disappearance of Tom Durnin, book for Dear Evan Hansen) was to write a play that would elicit lively discussion afterwards, his new play at Roundabout’s Laura Pels Theatre is a success. While at its core an intimate family drama, the play connects the personal to a wider arena of religious, political, sociological and philosophical concerns. We meet the three Fischer siblings, all in their forties, in July 2000 at the family’s longtime home in a middle class Washington neighborhood. They are gathered to celebrate their recently widowed father’s 75th birthday. The middle child Michael (the superb Jeremy Shamos), although an atheist, is a professor of Jewish studies at a New York area university where he has just been recommended for tenure. He mentions in passing that he is faculty advisor to Students for Nader. He and his gentile wife Ellen (Tasha Lawrence) have an emotionally troubled college-age daughter Abby who is currently on a trip to Israel. Michael was opposed to letting her go because peace talks between Arabs and Israelis have just collapsed and he fears for her safety. Elder daughter Holly (the assured Kate Walsh from TV’s Private Practice), a dilettante who fancies herself an interior decorator, has a bratty teenage son Joey (Seth Steinberg) and a shallow but wealthy lawyer husband Howard (Gary Wilmes) who is Joey’s stepfather. The younger daughter Sharon (Renata Friedman, u/s for Maria Dizzia), an unmarried teacher, who has borne the brunt of caring for her late mother and her ailing father, never fails to remind her siblings of that fact. Sharon has recently broken up with her boyfriend after finding him in bed with the [female] cantor. We learn that Michael has just completed an incendiary book called Forget the Holocaust that suggests that American Jews should stop using the Holocaust as a reason to give Israel a free pass for some of its actions. (If you think it unlikely that a professor would publish a controversial book likely to damage his career while he is awaiting tenure, just google Norman Finkelstein.) Although Michael sent his father Lou (Larry Bryggman) a manuscript of his book to read six month ago, Lou has never said a word about it. In a moving scene near the end of the first act, Lou describes what it was like to liberate Dachau. The second act takes place six months later, not long after the Supreme Court has interceded to elect Bush. Lou has suffered a stroke. Michael’s book has had consequences. The family has gathered to decide what to do about Lou’s care. Lou’s only asset is his former clothing store, now leased to a Guatemalan family at a below-market rate. Sharon’s opposition to selling the store because it is the family legacy has another less noble motive. Holly’s plan to rent the store for her own nonexistent design practice is mysteriously not supported by her husband, who turns out to have an unsavory secret. Michael pushes hard to sell the store, betraying some confidences in the process. At play’s end Joey asks Michael about his cousin Abby’s condition. We learn that she had an experience in Jerusalem that was either transcendent or symptomatic of her worsening mental condition. The play shifts gears from naturalistic to expressionistic in its final scene, which didn't work for me. One can fault the play for being overstuffed; there’s enough plot for three plays. On the positive side, the play presents a compelling picture of family dynamics, fortunately relieved by frequent flashes of humor. It raises important questions about Jewish identity in America today that seem even more relevant in the light of recent headlines. The dialogue is sharp and the cast is excellent. Derek McLane’s revolving two-level set and Jess Goldstein’s costumes serve the play well. Daniel Sullivan (Proof, Rabbit Hole) directs with his usual skill. Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including intermission.

Evening at the Talk House

D+

It sounded so promising: a New York premiere of a work by the provocative and often amusing Wallace Shawn with a cast that includes Matthew Broderick, Jill Eikenberry and Michael Tucker (remember them in L.A. Law?), John Epperson (Lypsinka), Larry Pine, Claudia Shear (Dirty Blonde) and Shawn himself. The cast also includes a fine young actress previously unknown to me, Annapurna Sriram. Upon entering the Romulus Linney Theater at Signature Center, the audience sees a cozy area that looks like the living room of a private club, filled with overstuffed chairs and ottomans, a leather sofa, a large coffee table and an upright piano. It took me a split second to realize that the attractive woman offering a tray of marshmallows, gummy bears and colored sparkling water was Eikenberry, looking barely a day older than she did on L.A. Law. For several minutes (too long in my opinion) the actors mix with the audience before the play. Most of those gathered at the theatrical club were associated with a play that opened ten years before  — Robert, the playwright (Broderick); Tom, the star (Pine); Bill,  the producer (Tucker); Ted, composer of the incidental music (Epperson); Annette, the wardrobe mistress (Shear); Nellie, the struggling club’s proprietor (Eikenberry) and Jane, her assistant (Sriram). An unexpected guest is Dick, an old actor (Shawn) who had been turned down for a part in the production ten years ago. Robert opens the play with a very long (at least 10-minute) monologue, during which we learn that much has changed in the past 10 years. Theater has practically disappeared. The country has become vaguely dystopian with quarterly predictable elections and frequent blackouts. Robert and Tom have abandoned serious theater for the lucrative world of television comedy. Bill has become a successful agent. Ted, Annette and Jane have had to scramble to make ends meet, filling in by participating in a government program to target people “who mean to do us harm.” Dick is staying at the club temporarily after a beating from his “friends.” Despite the underlying menace, the guests prattle on about tv shows and other gossip. One topic is the mysterious recent poisoning of at least two actors. The lights go out, but the talk continues. The play grinds to a halt with an ending that seems almost arbitrary. Somewhere lurking inside this disjointed mess lies an interesting play. I wish Shawn had waited until it emerged. Derek McLane did the wonderful set and Jeff Mahshie, the fine costumes. New Group artistic director Scott Elliott directed. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

Sweet Charity *** B-

It has been 50 years since this show arrived on Broadway with a formidable array of talent behind it: music by Cy Coleman, lyrics by Dorothy Fields, a book by Neil Simon based on a Fellini film, Gwen Verdon in the title role and, last but certainly not least, choreography and direction by Bob Fosse. To be honest, it has never been one of my favorite musicals. I find the book too disjointed and cliched and the characterizations exaggerated. Still, it has some catchy songs and several terrific dance numbers. Now The New Group has revived the show in a stripped-down version, modest even by Encores standards. The cast has 12 instead of the original 30 and the orchestra has been reduced to five over-amplified musicians. For a show that has so many dance numbers, the choreography is critical. Joshua Bergasse has the unenviable task of following Fosse’s exceptional work. While he has demonstrated talent elsewhere (On the Town), he is no Fosse. Sutton Foster, while one of the most talented actresses in musicals, is no Gwen Verdon. In the opening number, her neediness is shown as so grotesque that it is hard to feel much sympathy for her. Her perkiness is tiring, but she demonstrates a real flair for physical comedy. The always watchable Shuler Hensley makes a fine Oscar, the man she hopes will be her rescuer. Joel Perez is a standout in all four of his roles. The racially mixed ensemble is very good. Derek McLane’s scenic design features a a bare square stage with a brick back wall and two runways. Furniture is rolled in as needed. The audience is seated on three sides. The costumes by Clint Ramos bring back the 60s in all their excess. I do wish they had sprung for more than one dress for Charity. The directorial choice by Leigh Silverman to emphasize the extent to which the show is an artifact of the 60s robs it of some immediacy. Nevertheless, it is always a pleasure to see Foster and Hensley on stage. If you never saw or don’t remember Fosse’s choreography, you won’t be bothered by its absence. Despite some reservations, I did not regret seeing this production.  Running time: two hours, ten minutes including intermission.

Love, Love, Love *** B

Mike Bartlett’s (Cock, Bull, King Charles III) 2010 unflattering portrait of the British generation born around 1950 has arrived in New York at Roundabout’s Laura Pels Theatre. It follows a young self-absorbed couple over a 40+ year period. Kenneth (Richard Armitage) is freeloading in his hardworking older brother Henry’s (Alex Hurt) shabby London flat during his summer break from Oxford. When Henry brings home a date, the free-spirited Sandra (Amy Ryan), it does not turn out well for him. In the second act, set in a modern, attractive suburban home about 20 years later, Kenneth and Sandra have two teen-aged children — Rose (Zoe Kazan), a devoted violin student about to celebrate her 16th birthday and Jamie (Ben Rosenfield), a few years younger. It is clear that the couple feel hemmed in by their marriage and are not exactly model parents. In the final act, another 20 years later, we find Kenneth and Sandra in self-satisfied retirement while their adult children are floundering. The first act entertainingly sets up the central relationship. The second act, by far the most entertaining of the three, vividly shows how their situation has developed. The final act, alas, turns a bit polemical as Rose blames her parents and, by extension, their generation for her own problems. The dialog is sharp and the situations often amusing. You may cringe, but you’ll probably laugh. Amy Ryan is sensational, worth the price of admission. Richard Armitage and Zoe Kazan are also strong. Alex Hurt does his best with a one-note character and Ben Rosenfeld, with an underwritten one. The three distinct sets by Derek McClane and the period costumes by Susan Hilferty establish the time and place well. In the final act, more could have been done with makeup and wigs to make them look their age. Michael Mayer’s direction is assured and fluid. A few of the British references do not travel well. The ironic title comes from a Beatles lyric. If you appreciate fine acting and want to keep up with the works of an acclaimed contemporary playwright, you will probably find the play worthwhile. If you need sympathetic characters to identify with, you will probably not. Running time: 2 hours 5 minutes, including two intermissions.

Aubergine *** B

Julia Cho’s new play at Playwrights Horizons is a flawed, uneven work, but it packs an emotional wallop. Ray (Tim Kang), an assimilated Korean-American chef, moves in with his estranged father (Stephen Park) to care for him during his final days. Ray’s former girlfriend Cornelia (Sue Jean Kim) forgives him and pitches in to help. Lucien (Michael Potts), a refugee from a war-torn African country, is the kindly, helpful home hospice nurse. Ray’s uncle (Joseph Steven Yang) flies in from Korea as soon as hears about his brother’s condition. Diane (Jessica Love) is a wealthy foodie who appears in the opening and final scenes (and, in my humble opinion, should be excised). A common thread that stitches the play together is the important role of food in our memories and family relationships. Each character gets a food-centered monologue. Some of the dialog is in Korean with translations projected on the rear wall. There are many engaging moments, but they don’t fit together all that well. Some trimming would improve the play, especially dropping the facile ending. Derek McLane’s high-concept scenic design is dominated by a huge semicircular wooden wall that looks like the side of a huge vat. It parts and swings away to reveal a semicircular interior with partial concentric rings. The circle of life, perhaps? Jennifer Moeller’s costumes are appropriate to each character. Kate Whoriskey’s direction is a bit sluggish at times. Don’t see it when you are hungry. You also might want to avoid it you have recently faced or are about to face the loss of a loved one. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes including intermission.

Noises Off ****

Roundabout Theatre Company’s revival of Michael Frayn’s classic 1982 farce has a lot going for it. The cast of nine populating a second-rate traveling theatrical company is uniformly strong. Andrea Martin is a delight as the well-named Dotty Otley, an actress near the end of her career beset by the difficulty of remembering stage business. Campbell Scott is just right as the smarmy, condescending director Lloyd Dallas, who is carrying on two simultaneous affairs. David Furr is delightful as the vapid Garry who seems unable to complete a sentence. Megan Hilty is perfection as the curvaceous bimbo whose acting skills are limited. Tracee Chimo, as assistant stage manager Poppy Norton-Taylor, is good, but doesn’t really get the chance to show her mettle to the extent that other recent roles have offered. Kate Jennings Grant, as Belinda Blair, the company gossip, is fine as the sanest person on the stage. Jeremy Shamos, who for good reason is rarely unemployed, is hilarious as the nervous wreck Frederick Fellowes who needs to know the motivation for every line. Rob McClure as the high-strung company and stage manager Tim Allgood brings trembling to a new level. Daniel Davis is a hoot as Selsdon Mowbray, whose appearance onstage requires keeping him away from the bottle. Set designer Derek McLane captures the look of a Tudor-style country modernized for the taste of the 1970’s. Michael Krass’s costumes present some of the excesses of that decade with wicked fun. We get to see the first act of “Nothing On,” the ridiculous bedroom farce the company is presenting, three times, with escalating chaos. The first is at the late-night dress rehearsal. The second, a month later, is seen from backstage, where the manic off-stage cast and crew are acting out their own wordless scene. The final time is from the point of view of the audience near the end of the play’s tour. Director Jeremy Herrin keeps everything running like clockwork. Lorenzo Pisoni deserves special mention for his fine work as comedy stunt coordinator. An added treat is tucked into the Playbill -- Frayn's amusing program book for "Nothing On." If the play has a flaw, it is its length. Can there be too much of a good thing? Two hours twenty five minutes seemed a bit too long for something so slight.

Posterity **

I really had high hopes for Doug Wright’s new play at Atlantic Theater Company. I had enjoyed his Pulitzer Prize-winning play “I Am My Own Wife” and thought his book for “Grey Gardens” was well-crafted. The topic of the play — the interplay between recalcitrant subject Henrik Ibsen (the excellent Australian actor John Noble) and reluctant sculptor Gustav Vigeland (Hamish LInklater, fine in a role for which he was not an obvious choice) when Ibsen’s bust was sculpted — sounded promising.  I wish I could say my expectations were met. Things start well with a scene with the sculptor and his nude models, the middle-aged Mrs. Bergstrøm (Dale Soules) and his hunky young apprentice Anfinn (Mickey Theis). They are interrupted by the arrival of the prissy Sophus Larpent (Henry Stram), VIgeland’s solicitor and agent. He tries to induce Vigeland to to do a bust of Ibsen in order to win the backing of a key bureaucrat for the ambitious fountain celebrating humanity that he wants to create for a space in the heart of Oslo. When Ibsen arrives to meet Vigeland, things go badly. Their sparring match goes on for far too long and lacks nuance. Changing circumstances persuade Ibsen to agree to sitting for Vigeland and pouring out his heart to him. There are distracting subplots concerning the apprentice and the absence of usable clay. Very little light is shed on either Ibsen or Vigeland. There are very few peaks or valleys along the way, just lots of talk. We don’t even get to see the bust. Derek McLane’s effective set presents a rustic studio lined with busts covered in cheesecloth. Susan Hilferty’s costumes are apt. Wright also directed, which was probably a mistake. While I admired the playwright’s ambitions, I was quite disappointed with the results. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes including intermission.

The Money Shot **

The poster for Neil LaBute’s new comedy, now in previews at MCC Theater, is doubly misleading: the four actors do not end up in bed together and Fred Weller does not have hair on his chest. The play raises the question of whether the world really needs another satirical look at the denizens of Hollywood. They are both too easy and too frequent a target, unless the playwright has some new insight to share. That is not the case here. Steve (Weller) is an obtuse 50-ish action film hero whose fight against Father Time has led him to marry Missy (Gia Crovatin), an ex-cheerleader and would-be actress less than half his age. Since Karen (Elizabeth Reaser) came out as a lesbian, her movie career has been on the skids, despite her attempts to pump it up with a cookbook, website, charitable activities and marketing ploys. Her lover Bev (Callie Thorne) is a film editor with a pugnacious personality, to put it mildly. Steve and Karen are currently filming a movie that they hope will revive their careers. The European director has suggested that they liven up an upcoming bedroom scene by actually having sex. The four are gathered at Karen’s luxurious home in the Hollywood hills the night before filming, allegedly to negotiate with their loved ones how far they are allowed to go in the shoot. However, it is more than an hour into the play before they finally get around to the matter at hand. The first hour is devoted to a series of arguments over such weighty questions as whether David Crosby is Bing’s son and whether Belgium is really part of Europe. By the time they get around to arguing over where tongues may or may not be placed during the shoot, we have realized that LaBute’s own tongue is planted firmly in his cheek. There are many amusing lines, but it all adds up to absolutely nothing. The actors give it their all. Weller, who was billed as Frederick in Mothers and Sons is listed here as Fred; I wish he had also shed the pinched voice that was so annoying in McNally’s play. Derek McLane’s set is lovely, Sarah J. Holden’s costumes are just right and Terry Kinney’s direction is fluid. Too bad they didn’t have something more substantive to work on. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

Intimacy **

The previous play I saw by Thomas Bradshaw -- "Burning" in 2011 -- made my Ten Worst list for that year, so I was not looking forward to Bradshaw's new X-rated comedy at The New Group. This muddled satire about sex in suburbia has lots of nudity and simulated sex but not much point. In the first act we are presented with the sexual proclivities of three neighboring families who get together in the second act to produce a neighborhood porn film. The graphic sex is more comical than erotic. The characters are a jumble of unconvincing traits and the plot, such as it is, makes very little sense. Bradshaw's desire to shock often serves no apparent purpose; he throws in a toilet scene with sound effects and a vomit scene to up the gross-out factor. A subplot about casual racism seems almost an afterthought. To see such fine actors as Daniel Gerroll, Laura Esterman and Keith Randolph Smith involved in this evoked a mixture of admiration and pity. David Anzuelo, Austin Cauldwell, Ella Dershowitz and Dea Julien all look good with their clothes off. Derek McLane's set with a candy color backdrop and quilted walls makes good use of the extremely wide stage. Director Scott Elliott also designed the costumes. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes including intermission.

Bunty Berman Presents ***

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Ayub Khan Din's 1996 play "East Is East" is one of the funniest plays I have ever seen (rent the movie!), so I have been looking forward to his new musical, an affectionate look at Bollywood, now in previews at The New Group. This time around, he wrote the book, lyrics and, with Paul Bogaev, the music. Due to an injury that forced the lead actor to drop out, he even took over the title role. I found the show charming, but many might disagree. If you have a taste for silliness, cartoonish characters, corny jokes, ridiculous plot developments, pratfalls, sight gags and word play, you will have a good time. Bunty Berman is head of a third-rate Bombay movie studio whose success was built on its star Raj Dhawan (the hilarious Sorab Wadia), who is now long in the tooth and broad in the beam. The studio's only hope for survival is to take in as a partner a notorious gangster Shankar Dass (Alok Tewari) who wants to turn his son Chandra (Raja Burrows) into a star. Bunty's loyal personal assistant Dolly (Gayton Scott) longs for his attention. Saleem, the tea boy (Nick Choksi), is in love with the leading lady Shambervi (Lipica Shah). Dass is smitten with exotic dancer Sandra de Souza (Lyn Philistine). There is a running gag that one of the henchmen is a walking thesaurus, ever ready with an apt synonym or two.  Derek McLane's functional set is enhanced by projections by Wendall K Harrington. William Ivey Long's costumes are wonderful. The choreography by Josh Prince is hilarious. Scott Elliott's direction is fine. I laughed myself silly, but I am aware that not everyone would share my delight. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes, including intermission.

The Last Five Years ***

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Second Stage Theatre has revived Jason Robert Brown's popular theater piece in a production with two excellent singing actors, Adam Kantor and Betsy Wolfe, directed by the composer. I say "theater piece" rather than "musical" because the work is basically a song cycle with aspirations. The gimmick is to have the two characters alternate songs, with Jamie telling the story of their relationship from beginning to end while Kathy tells it in reverse from breakup to first meeting. They share a song only once when their chronologies meet and again, very briefly, at the end. When I saw the original production, I wasn't sure whether the gimmick enhanced or detracted from the work and I'm still not sure. What I am certain of is that the score is very good. Brown's music and lyrics and the way he integrates the vocal and instrumental lines are admirable. Kantor and Wolfe have big shoes to fill (Norbert Lee Butz and Sherie Renee Scott in the original), but succeed completely. The six fine musicians, who are arranged on individual platforms on the back wall, perform beautifully. Derek McLane's set is appropriately simple as are Emily Rebholz's costumes. Jeff Sugg's projections are used sparingly, but effectively. I still don't fully embrace the show's underlying concept, but I enjoyed the evening. The audience was notably younger and more enthusiastic than usual. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

Breakfast at Tiffany's *

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For me, the most interesting part of this production takes place before it begins: huge photographs of New York in the 1940's and wartime propaganda posters are projected on the main panel of the set. Even this is muddled though -- instead of projecting them on a plain background where they could be clearly seen, they are superimposed on a projection of the Manhattan skyline with glass towers not built until decades later. I'm afraid it's downhill from there. Richard Greenberg's adaptation hews much more closely to Capote's novella than the sanitized Hollywood film did, but he includes long stretches of narration that quickly become tiresome. The first act moves at a snail's pace. Neither Emilia Clarke as Holly nor Cory Michael Smith as Fred has much charisma, although (gratuitous nudity alert!) they do look nice together in a bathtub. George Wendt is an understated Joe Bell, the bartender, but the rest of the cast perform much too broadly. Things improve in the second act, but by then it's too late to save the day. Derek McLane's scenic design morphs effortlessly from one setting to the next and Colleen Atwood's costumes are appropriate. Sean Mathias's direction seemed muddled. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes, including intermission.

Clive [zero stars]

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Having enjoyed The New Group's production of Jonathan Marc Sherman's play "Things We Want" directed by Ethan Hawke about five years ago, I was looking forward to seeing "Clive," Sherman's adaptation of Brecht's "Baal," directed by and starring Hawke. To say I was disappointed would be a gross understatement. Although it's only January, this is my nomination for worst play of the year -- any year. The dissolute poet in Brecht's early play has been transposed to a rock-and-roll musician with a large capacity for booze, drugs and sex. Unfortunately, as told be Sherman, his tale is an incoherent, indulgent, boring mess! About the only good thing I can say about it is that I enjoyed seeing Vincent D'Onofrio onstage. Other cast members include Brooks Ashmanskas, Stephanie Janssen, Mahira Kakkar, Zoe Kazan, Aaron Krohn, Dana Lyn and the playwright. Derek McLane's high-concept set included seven doors that double as musical instruments. Catherine Zuber's costumes are clever, which is more than I can say about the play. I would rather undergo root canal surgery than sit through this play again. Running time: one hour, 40 minutes without intermission.

The Heiress **

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If you never saw the film or the revival with Cherry Jones, you might enjoy the current Broadway production of Ruth and August Goetz's adaptation of Henry James's Washington Square. But if you did see either one, you may well be disappointed in this uneven production starring Jessica Chastain, David Strathairn and Dan Stevens, directed by Moises Kaufman. Chastain's take on Catherine Sloper as pathologically shy, yet frisky, in the early scenes is an interesting but questionable choice. Her performance strengthened in the second half. Strathairn, whom I have greatly admired in the past, seemed distracted and bored here. Stevens cut a fine figure and effectively conveyed the ambiguity of his character. The most commanding presence onstage was Judith Ivey as the well-meaning meddling aunt. I could not grasp what Kaufman was aiming for; too often he appeared to be going for easy laughs. There was too much declaiming and too little communicating. The production just didn't seem to cohere. Derek McLane's imposing set and Albert Wolsky's sumptuous costumes were excellent. Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes including intermission.

The Good Mother *

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Ads for Francine Volpe's new play at The New Group describe it as a "taut psychological thriller." I wish! It's anything but taut, devoid of thrills, and psychological only in the sense that much of the dialogue is psychobabble. Larissa (Gretchen Mol) is a 33-year-old single mother with an autistic 4-year-old daughter. In a series of scenes with her goth babysitter Angus (Eric Nielsen), her truck driver date Jonathan (Darren Goldstein), her former group therapist and mentor during her teen years -- and father of Angus -- Joel (Mark Blum), and an ex-boyfriend cop Buddy (Alfredo Narciso), we see several aspects of Larissa which still fall far short of creating a coherent character. The fine cast struggles valiantly, but they have little to work with. Scott Elliott's sluggish direction only emphasizes the play's flaws. I liked the set by Derek McLane -- a tacky living room with knotty pine walls, an overstuffed sectional and lace curtains. Cynthia Rowley's costumes were fine too. Applause was tepid at best at play's end. Running time: 95 minutes, no intermission.

The Common Pursuit **

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I would be curious to know why director Moises Kaufman, known for his superb work on landmark plays like Gross Indecency, The Laramie Project and I Am My Own Wife, was drawn to one of Simon Gray's lesser plays. In any case, he has no magic tricks up his sleeve for this Roundabout production at the Laura Pels. The oft-told tale of idealistic youth, in this case six students at Cambridge setting out to publish a literary magazine, gradually losing their ideals to compromise and betrayal is not told particularly well. While I have nothing against talky plays as long as the dialog is interesting, little of it sparkles here. The competent American cast (Kristen Bush, Kieran Campion, Josh Cooke, Jacob Fishel, Tim McGeever and Lucas Near-Verbrugghe) manage their Oxbridge accents fairly well but the effort shows, particularly early on. The characters are not portrayed with sufficient vividness for the audience to care very much what happens to them. Perhaps that is why at least 10% of the audience did not return after intermission. By the time the play finally springs to life halfway through the second act, it is too little too late. Derek McLane's set is quite attractive and Clint Ramos' costumes are evocative. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes including intermission.

Nice Work If You Can Get It ****

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I am baffled by the middling to negative reviews this Gershwin musical has received, because I thought it 's wonderful. Joe DiPietro's tongue-in-cheek book cleverly blends about 20 Gershwin songs into a delightfully absurd plot loosely based on Oh Kay! The almost uniformly excellent cast (more about that later), stunning sets by Derek McLane, gorgeous costumes by Martin Pakledinaz, lush orchestrations by Bill Elliott and endlessly inventive choreography by Kathleen Marshall, who also directed, offer a lot to enjoy. Kelli O'Hara is marvelous as singer, dancer and comedienne. Michael McGrath stands out among a strong supporting cast that includes Judy Kaye and Estelle Parsons. The only weak link is Matthew Broderick; his singing and dancing are competent, but his signature nebbishy persona has lost its charm for me. I guess his name still sells tickets. With a stronger male lead, the show would be an unqualified success. As it is, it still provides a most pleasant evening. Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes including intermission.