It's Only a Play ***

This much-revised comedy by Terrrence McNally, which is breaking box office records on Broadway, has a stellar cast including Nathan Lane, Matthew Broderick, Stockard Channing, Megan Mullally, F. Murray Abraham and Rupert Grint (from Harry Potter films), plus promising newcomer Micah Stock. Lane and Channing are at the top of their form, rattling off a nonstop series of bitchy zingers, many of them theatrical insider jokes that flatter the audience by making them feel in the know. Abraham, as an acerbic critic, reveals a manic comic side that I never knew he had. Mullally was out so I can’t comment on her; understudy Isabel Keating seemed flightier than necessary. Rupert Grint, as a hotshot British director who claims to crave failure, has to cope with a poorly written role and a hideous costume. Stock, who resembles a young Jim Parsons, holds his own in a long, hilarious scene with Lane. And then there’s Matthew Broderick as the author of the play whose opening night is being celebrated. He copes reasonably well with difficult material in Act One — a lecture on the depressing state of Broadway theater and a prayer for those involved in the business — but seems to retreat into a shell of blandness in Act Two. The fun is greatly abetted by an over-the-top set design by Scott Pask and hilarious costumes, including the outerwear of unseen celebrities from other Broadway shows, by Ann Roth. Director Jack O’Brien occasionally lets the pace lag. The wisp of a plot is about the anxieties of waiting for reviews on opening night, a somewhat dated concept in the age of instantly accessible reviews on newspapers’ digital sites. The second act fizzles more than it fizzes. McNally would have done well to follow one of the theatrical trends he deplores in the Act One lecture — 90-minute plays without an intermission. A string of one-liners, no matter how funny, does not stay fresh for two hours and forty minutes. It’s too much of a good thing.

Mothers and Sons **

A new Terrence McNally play starring Tyne Daly -- what could possibly go wrong? Plenty, as it turns out. When the usually admirable Frederick Weller first opens his mouth, the mannered, almost falsetto voice that comes out resembles nothing found in nature. What was director Sheryl Kaller thinking to steer him in this strange direction? After a few seconds of this unnatural sound, it was clear that it was going to be a long 90 minutes. Remember the Emmy-winning 1990 television drama "Andre's Mother" starring Sada Thompson and Richard Thomas, about the confrontation between a woman who has lost her son to AIDS and the lover he left behind? McNally picks up these characters 20 years later when Katharine (Daly) unexpectedly visits the former lover Cal (Weller) to return Andre's diary, which neither of them has read. The years have not mellowed Katharine; if anything, she has only grown more bitter and filled with hate. Cal, on the other hand, has moved on; he now has a Central Park West apartment, a husband, Will (Bobby Steggert), 15 years his junior, and a 6-year-old son Bud (the too-cute-by-half Grayson Taylor). The play drifts from clumsy exposition to clever zingers to didactic speeches in no particular order. Daly does not get to display much range. Steggert is the only one who resembles an actual human being. Even set designer John Lee Beatty is off his stride -- the unattractive apartment does not look like one any gay couple would inhabit. The play's only interest is to document the dramatic changes that have taken place for gay Americans in the last 20 years. After three weeks of previews, the play still seems far from polished. A major disappointment.

Golden Age **

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
Terrence McNally's love of opera has yielded such notable plays as The Lisbon Traviata and Master Class, so there was reason for high hopes for his Bellini biodrama now in previews at Manhattan Theatre Club. All the action takes place backstage during the premiere of I Puritani in 1835 Paris. Were I an avid opera buff,  the operatic shoptalk, musical and romantic rivalries and musical in-jokes might have been more involving. That not being the case, the proceedings quickly grew tiresome. When, at the 2 hour 15 minute mark, a character says "I thought it would never end," he expressed my thoughts perfectly. Unfortunately another 30 minutes remained. The cast features Lee Pace as Bellini, Bebe Neuwirth as Maria Malibran, his ex-flame and muse, and Will Rogers as Francesco Florimo, his patron, companion and, possibly, lover. The four leading singers, Giulia Grisi, Giovanni Battista Rubini, Antonio Tamburini and Luigi Lablanche, are played by Dierdre Friel, Eddie Kaye Thomas, Lorenzo Pisoni and Ethan Philips, respectively. F. Murray Abraham has a brief but memorable appearance as Rossini. The set by Santo Loquasto and costumes by Jane Greenwood are excellent. Walter Bobbie's direction does not disguise the flatness of the material. It's a disappointment.

Master Class **

I have always been a fan of Tyne Daly -- her Mamma Rose was the finest I have ever seen -- so I was quite eager to see her play Maria Callas in the Manhattan Theatre Club's revival of Terrence McNally's 1995 hit Master Class. I'm sorry to report that I was disappointed with her performance. She does not get the Greek accent right -- sometimes it sounds more like an Irish brogue -- and she does not clearly differentiate between her voice and Onassis's during the two memory scenes. The actors playing the vocal students (Alexandra Silber, Garrett Sorenson and Sierra Boggess) are all excellent. Sorenson and Boggess have beautiful voices. Jeremy Cohen brings a lot of warmth to the role of the pianist and Clinton Brandhagen is amusing as the stagehand. Except for the accent problem, the class scenes still work well. Callas's stinging remarks are as funny as ever. The transitions to and from the memory scenes are awkward and the imagined conversations with Onassis misfired. Perhaps director Stephen Wadsworth is at fault. The set for the auditorium stage where the class is held has a beautiful parquet back wall. This set dissolves into a suggestion of La Scala with a large pillar decorated with roses. Although the play won the Tony in 1996 (as did Zoe Caldwell and Audra McDonald), it seemed a bit long and repetitious this time. Clearly, I am in the minority here because the audience was wildly enthusiastic.