The Flick (Second Try) **

I can hardly believe that I went back to see the revival of Annie Baker’s workplace dramedy, now at Barrow Street Theatre with the original cast and production team intact. When it premiered  at Playwrights Horizons two years ago, I fled (along with a good portion of the audience) at intermission. Since it subsequently won the Pulitzer Prize,  I was curious to see whether staying for Act Two might have changed my mind. To some extent, it did improve my opinion of the play. Here’s what I had to say two years ago:

The Flick (Act One) *

Annie Baker may be one of our most acclaimed young playwrights (and Sam Gold, one of the hottest young directors), but I must confess with some sadness that I don't "get" her work. I find her closely observed scenes of ordinary people doing everyday things boring and banal. I was astounded that "Circle Mirror Transformation" won an Obie and is among one of today's most frequently produced plays. Her new play at Playwrights Horizons chronicles the relationships of employees of a slightly seedy movie theater in small-town Massachusetts, likely soon to be a victim of the move to digital projection. Sam (Matthew Maher), a man in his late 30's, is breaking in a new employee, Avery (Aaron Clifton Moten), a depressed black 20-year-old. Rose (Louisa Krause), the green-haired, free-spirited projectionist, takes a shine to Avery. Alex Hanna plays a man who falls asleep in the theater. Perhaps he was destined for greater things in Act Two. I'll never know. After 90 minutes of watching Sam and Avery clean the theater numerous times and having the bright light of the projector repeatedly shined in the audience's eyes, I had had enough. The thought of returning after intermission for another 90 minutes of same was not appealing. I did enjoy seeing David Zinn's perfect recreation of a movie theater. I wish I could join the Annie Baker fan club, but clearly that is never going to happen. Running time: 3 hours, plus a 15 minute intermission.

This time around, I found the first act less annoying, because I knew in advance that there would be very little action in any traditional sense. Baker’s mastery of the mundane does hold a certain fascination and the excellence of the cast merits appreciation. She nails the boring repetitiveness of low-paying jobs and the rewards and limitations of workplace relationships. Nevertheless, I could not escape the feeling that playwright and director were testing the audience to see how much (or how little) they could get away with. Very few people left at intermission this time. Act Two was worth hanging around for. It deepens the portrayal of Avery and Sam, but does not shed much light on what makes Rose tick. There is a narrative arc of sorts, at least for Avery.

There were a few surprising weaknesses. Much of Sam’s big speech in Act Two was inaudible even from the second row. In a couple of scenes the actors were facing away from the audience as they spoke. 

I guess I’ll have to accept the fact Annie Baker’s close observations of the quotidian simply do not appeal to me.

Mr. Burns, A Post-Electric Play **

Your reaction to Anne Washburn’s innovative play, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, may hinge on whether you are an avid fan of the animated TV series The Simpsons. Your familiarity with the characters will give you a head start in appreciating the plot. Washburn uses this popular cartoon series to show the important role pop culture plays in binding our society together. Much of the action focuses on an episode from the series’s fifth season called “Cape Feare,” a spoof of the twice-made Hollywood thriller. During the first act, survivors of a recent nuclear disaster sit around a campfire and pass the time by remembering lines from the show. In the second act, set seven years later, rival bands of roving performers survive by reenacting episodes from TV shows, complete with commercials. In the third act, set 75 years later, we see a stylized version of the “Cape Feare” episode in music and verse, presented as an inspirational pageant. The play was commissioned by The Civilians, a self-styled center for investigative theater; most of the cast (Quincy Tyler Bernstine, Susannah Flood, Gibson Frazier, Matthew Maher, Nedra McClyde, Jennifer R. Morris, Colleen Worthmann, Sam Breslin Wright) are associate artists of the group and director Steve Cosson is their artistic director. The play is enlivened by Michael Friedman’s music and Sam Pinkleton’s choreography. Neil Patel’s sets and Emily Rebholz’s costumes hit the mark. There is a terrific two-part theatrical effect at play’s end. I wish the first two acts were tightened up a bit: it’s a long slog to intermission and a smattering of people did not return. The final act ties many loose ends together, but it’s a long wait to get there. In case you were wondering, Mr. Burns is the name of Homer Simpson’s boss, the owner of the nuclear power plant responsible for the disaster. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes, including intermission.

Golden Child **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
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.