On the Exhale

B

Marin Ireland (Ironbound, reasons to be pretty), one of our most talented stage actors, seems incapable of giving a less than compelling performance. In this dark drama by Martin Zimmerman now at Roundabout Underground’s Black Box Theatre, she plays a professor in a “concealed carry” state, who is morbidly afraid that some male student, unhappy with a grade, might settle his grievance with a gun. As a single mother, her main fear is that no one would be there to raise her only child. When a gunman does strike, it is not at the university, but at her son’s elementary school. Her son is one of the victims. She deals with her grief in quite unexpected ways. While the acting is impeccable, the material seemed a bit formulaic. During the last 15 minutes, the play took what I felt was a wrong turn that undermined some of its force. The set design by Rachel Hauck is minimal in the extreme — a platform with a black wall behind it. Emily Rehbolz’s costume does not call attention to itself. The lighting by Jen Schriever very effectively enhances the production. Leigh Silverman’s (Violet, Chinglish) unfussy direction is assured. It’s only an hour long, but it’s a very intense hour.

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.

All the Ways To Say I Love You ** C

Neil LaBute’s new play for MCC at the Lucille Lortel Theatre is really just an hour-long monologue for an actress on the far side of 50. But when that actress is Tony winner Judith Light, who’s going to complain about it? Light plays Mrs. Johnson, a long-time high school English teacher and counselor, looking back 15 years to a relationship that profoundly affected her marriage, her career and her soul. To say more would be to give away too much. Those expecting the usual dose of bile and surprise from LaBute will be disappointed. Light is impressive — just learning all those lines is amazing — but her performance is too often overheated with few quieter moments to relieve the intensity. Rachel Hauck’s set recreates a high school office convincingly. Emily Rebholz’s has dressed Light plausibly. I wish director Leigh Silverman had gone for a wider emotional palette. Running time: one hour, no intermissionion.

The Way We Get By **

Neil LaBute’s new two-hander, now in previews at Second Stage, represents somewhat of a new direction for him — misogyny and misanthropy are nowhere to be seen and love is in the air. Doug (Thomas Sadoski) and Beth (Amanda Seyfried) have shared a night of lust after hooking up at a party. The morning after is awkward as they attempt to determine what the future holds for their relationship. We learn that they are not strangers and the nature of their past relationship presents an obstacle to any future one. A greater problem is the inability of one of them to commit. Doug, a socially awkward motor-mouth, would become annoying very fast if he were not played by the superb Sadoski, who, I think, is one of the finest younger actors on the New York stage. Seyfried has a less showy — dare I say underwritten — role. I felt that her inability to make a stronger impression was primarily a problem with the script. She does have lovely breasts though. I am curious whether Tatiana Maslany (“Orphan Black”), who was originally announced for the role, could have done more with it. Much of the dialogue seemed artificial. The play became repetitive after a while and ended with a ridiculous scene that diminished what preceded it. Neil Patel’s apartment set is spot-on as are Emily Rebholz’s costumes. Leigh Silverman’s direction does not call attention to itself. I admire LaBute for trying something different and thank him for providing a juicy role for Sadoski. Other than his performance, there wasn’t much to admire. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Violet ****

What a pleasure it is to attend a musical where the music is the main attraction! This intimate musical theater piece originally produced at Playwrights Horizons in 1997 has finally made it to Broadway in a thrilling production that shows off the beautiful score by Jeanine Tesori to full advantage. Sutton Foster is amazing as a 25-year-old North Carolina farm woman whose face had been horribly scarred in a freak accident at the age of 13. (Her father’s axe flew off the handle while he was chopping wood.) The time is 1964, months after the Civil Rights Act became law. She is taking a bus to Tulsa, fully believing that her scar will be healed by a TV evangelist there. Along the way she meets two soldiers recently out of boot camp. Monty (Colin Donnell) is a charming skirt-chaser about to leave for Vietnam. Flick (Joshua Henry), as a black man, knows what it means to be an outsider. After Violet recruits them for a poker game at a rest stop, they both take a shine to her and the three decide to spend their overnight in Memphis together. Violet’s visit to Tulsa leads to a different kind of healing than she hoped for. Tesori’s score is a wonderful melange of country, blues and gospel that, in my humble opinion, outshines any other currently on Broadway. The lyrics and book by Brian Crawley are also fine, but I did have occasional trouble making out words. The excellent supporting cast includes Emerson Steele as the young Violet, Alexander Gemignani as her father, Ben Davis as the preacher, Annie Golden as both an old lady on the bus and a aged hotel hooker, and Rema Webb as the lead singer in the gospel choir. The onstage orchestra was excellent. Leigh Silverman’s direction skillfully blends past and present. David Zinn’s set and Clint Ramos’s costumes work well. I was afraid that such an intimate show would be lost in Roundabout’s American Airlines Theatre, but it is not. It was a thoroughly bracing evening. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes; no intermission.

Kung Fu **

Although David Henry Hwang's biographical play about martial arts star Bruce Lee, now at Signature Theatre, comes to life fitfully during the many action sequences that skillfully combine martial arts, Chinese opera moves and modern dance, it is dragged down by sketchy "and then this happened next" scenes with surprisingly inert dialogue. It explores his difficult father-son relationship and his unending battle against the prevailing American image of Asian men, but simplifies or omits many facets of Lee's life in favor of what could pass for the comic book version. Allegedly, the work was originally conceived as a musical, but things didn't work out. Too bad -- that might have been considerably more interesting. Cole Horibe makes an impressive theatrical debut as Lee, Francis Jue is superb as his father and Bradley Fong is endearing in the double role of the young Lee and his son Brandon. Phoebe Strole does her best with the two-dimensional role of Lee's wife Linda. Clifton Duncan, in an amusing stroke of color-blind casting, is a convincing James Coburn. The remainder of the energetic cast are fine too. The play cuts off just as Lee achieves his big breakthrough, sparing us his tragic early death only a few years later. David Zinn's set is generic and unattractive. Anita Yavich's costumes are excellent. Director Leigh Silverman, who has done well with Hwang's work on other occasions, does what she can to hold it all together. There's no escaping the fact that this work is not Hwang at his best. Running time: two hours including intermission.

The (curious case of the) Watson Intelligence **

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No one can accuse playwright Madeleine George of lack of ambition for her new work at Playwrights Horizons. The action, set in 1876, 1889, 1931 and 2011 with three actors playing multiple roles, alternates time periods and characters in rapid succession. We are presented with four Watsons -- Alexander Graham Bell's assistant; Shelock Holmes's sidekick; Jerry Watson, a present-day computer repairman, and a supercomputer based on IBM's, reprogrammed to be empathetic. All are played by the delightful John Ellison Conlee. The talented Amanda Quaid plays Eliza, the supercomputer's creator; Mrs. Merrick, a troubled Victorian wife who consults Holmes's Watson; and an unnamed BBC interviewer. David Costabile, master of high dudgeon, appears as Merrick, a Tea Party-style politician and ex-husband of Eliza; a mysterious Victorian inventor also named Merrick, and Alexander Graham Bell. Present-day Merrick inadvertently brings ex-wife Eliza and Jerry together with surprising results. Some of the ideas touched upon are dependency and the fear thereof, usefulness, and the downside of finding a soulmate. The alternation of times, locations and characters is greatly assisted by  Louisa Thompson's amazingly flexible set and Anita Yavich's excellent costumes. Playwright George successfully keeps her juggling act going through the first act and into the second, before she drops the ball with a thud. The play whimpers to an end, which is all the more disappointing since it started with such promise. Director Leigh Silverman keeps things moving along smoothly until the play trips over its own cleverness. In what my sound like a left-handed compliment, let me say that even the plays that fall short at Playwrights Horizons fail in interesting ways. Running time: two hours, 20 minutes including intermission.

The Call ***

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There is much to admire in Tanya Barfield's new play at Playwrights Horizons. The characters are vividly drawn and excellently realized by a fine cast, the dialog is lively and convincingly authentic, and the premise is promising. Annie (Kerry Butler) and Peter (Kelly AuCoin) are a white couple who, after a long battle against infertility that has left Annie depressed, decide to adopt an African baby. Their best friends, a black lesbian couple Rebecca (Eisa Davis) and Drea (Crystal A. Davidson), have mixed feelings about their decision. Peter had been a close friend of Rebecca's older brother, who died after a trip he and Peter made to Africa. The circumstances of his death are a topic usually avoided, but that come out late in the play. Peter and Annie have a new neighbor from Africa, Alemu (Russell G. Jones), whose perpetual smile masks survivor guilt. When they get a picture of the girl they are planning to adopt, they think she looks considerably older than her alleged age, which sets off new doubts in Annie. Unfortunately, the play spins its wheels a bit in act two and the various strands do not blend very successfully. Nevertheless, it is a worthy effort that I was glad to see. Rachel Hauck's set and Emily Rebholz's costumes are effectively understated. Leigh Silverman's direction is assured. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes including intermission. Note: It's merciful that there is an intermission, because the semi-upholstered seats in the Peter J. Sharp Theater become very uncomfortable after a while. And why would anyone build a theater in this day and age without staggering the seats?

The Madrid *

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Alas, the curse that the theater gods apparently placed on Manhattan Theatre Club's Stage I at City Center has not yet lifted. On paper "The Madrid" looked like a sure thing. With a cast led by Edie Falco and including Frances Sternhagen and Christopher Evan Welch; a playwright, Liz Flahive, with a previous MTC success and a strong track record writing for Falco on "Nurse Jackie;" and a first-rate director, Leigh Silverman, who helmed Flahive's previous MTC play, what could possibly go wrong? Plenty, as  it turns out. Falco plays Martha, a teacher in a Chicago suburb who suddenly walks out on her family and job and starts a new life in a seedy downtown apartment named The Madrid. Her 20-year old daughter Sarah (Phoebe Strole) tries to find a connection with her. Her long-suffering husband John (John Ellison Conlee) copes by selling everything that reminds him of her. Their meddlesome, needy neighbor Becca (Heidi Schreck) and her slightly creepy husband Danny (Welch) try to help in counterproductive ways. Martha's mother Rose (the always fine Sternhagen) tries desperate measures to bring her daughter home. Becca and Danny's gangly 16-year-old son Dylan (Seth Clayton) provides a brief moment of comic relief. The trouble is that the proceedings offer so little to involve the viewer that, by the end of two long listless acts, I no longer cared why Martha left or whether she would return. David Zinn's multipurpose set is efficiently versatile and Emily Rebholz's costumes are fine. Silverman does her best with the hand she has been dealt. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes including intermission.

Golden Child **

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Signature Theatre has opened their season devoted to David Henry Hwang with a revival of his 1996 play about how Christianity came to the Eng family of Fujian, China in 1918-19. Tieng-Bin (Greg Watanabe) has returned home to his three wives and children after a few years doing business in the Philippines, where he has been exposed to and fascinated by Western culture. His ultra-traditional first wife, Siu-Yong (Julyana Soelistyo), is threatened by the new ideas he brings home. His scheming second wife, Luan (Jennifer Lim), sees an opportunity to make his eagerness for change work to her advantage. His third wife, Eling (Lesley Hu), his favorite, is just happy to have him home. Trouble erupts when Tieng-Bin orders Siu-Yong to unbind the feet of their feisty daughter Ahn (Annie Q). The arrival of a missionary, Reverend Baines (Matthew Maher), and Tieng-Bin's subsequent decision that the family convert to Christianity, lead to tragedy. Act One, basically a comedy of manners centered on the rivalry of the three wives, is filled with bitchy zingers. The shift to a much more serious tone in Act Two is a bit jarring. The tale is wrapped in a framing device in which the now elderly Ahn relates the tale to her young grandson. Soelistyo and Q stand out, while Watanabe seems a bit stiff. The elegant wooden set by Neil Patel and the sumptuous costumes by Anita Yavich are visual treats. Leigh Silverman's direction is unobtrusive. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.

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.