Now in previews at New York Theatre Workshop, this new play by Lucas Hnath (The Christians) addresses several issues that arise from our obsession with competitive sports, such as the commodification of athletes, the cultivation of athletic prowess to the exclusion of all else, the temptation of performance enhancing drugs and the relentless pursuit of self-interest regardless of harm to others. A strong case of pathological sibling codependency overlays the other issues. Ray (Alex Breaux) is an Olympic hopeful swimmer, whose success has come at the cost of intellectual and emotional stuntedness. His brightest idea has been to get a hideous tattoo on his back to make him more easily recognizable by television viewers. He has a great entrance in the titular swimwear, plunging into the one-lane pool with a plexiglas wall that fills the front of the set. His sleazy older brother Peter (Lucas Caleb Rooney) is also his attorney and his would-be agent. When a stash of drugs is found in the team locker room’s refrigerator, Peter tries to persuade Coach (Peter Jay Fernandez) to look the other way until after the Olympic trials so that Jay’s tentative endorsement contract with Speedo will not be threatened. Jay’s ex-girlfriend Lydia (Zoe Winters) has lost her sports therapy license, partially due to some unethical behavior by Peter. Many plots and counterplots collide. Unfortunately the play sheds far more heat than light. The lack of a sympathetic character is not necessarily fatal to my interest in a play, but it certainly doesn’t help that there is no one to root for here. Breaux looks the part and is quite convincing as Jay. Rooney’s portrayal of Peter has only one note — extremely annoying. Fernandez is OK as the coach. Winters doesn’t get much chance to make an impression. Kudos to set designer Riccardo Hernandez for a convincing set. Boos to sound designer Matt Tierney for the loud horn blasts between scenes. Fight coordinator Thomas Schall has done wonders — rarely have I seen onstage brawling that was so realistic. Director Lileana Blain-Cruz does her best with an unsatisfactory ending. Running time: 80 minutes; no intermission. NOTE: I do not recommend seats in the first two rows, because you are below the level of the pool deck.
Showing posts with label Thomas Schall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thomas Schall. Show all posts
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Neva **
(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
It's not often that we get to see a play by a contemporary Chilean playwright in New York. Now, courtesy of the Public Theater, we can see Guillermo Calderon's absurdist comedy set in early 1905 in St. Petersburg (the one on the Neva River, of course). The woman in black pacing back and forth before the play begins is Olga Knipper (Bianca Amato), star of the Moscow Art Theater and widow of Anton Chekhov. She has accepted a guest role with a theater in Russia's capital and is waiting for a rehearsal to begin. The noble-born Aleko (Luke Robertson) and the revolutionary activist Masha (Quincy Tyler Bernstine) are the only other actors to arrive. The rest of the cast may or may not be victims of the Bloody Sunday riot which is under way. Dissatisfied with her own interpretation of her current role, Olga segues from the monologue in the play to her own monologue about the actor's need for love and acclaim. The border between acting and real life is a porous one. Olga enlists Aleko and Masha to reenact scenes from her life, including different version's of Chekhov's death and his sister's reaction to learning about his impending marriage. Masha closes the play with a showy monologue about the irrelevance of theater in a time of revolution. The play contains many lively, entertaining moments, but at times drifts aimlessly. The playwright directed, which is not always a good idea. The nimble translation is by Andrea Thome, herself a playwright. Susan Hilferty's black costumes blend well into the prevailing murk. No set designer is credited. A fight director, Thomas Schall, is listed although the play contains no fights. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.
NOTE: I really dislike attending the Martinson Theater at the Public. Judging from the amount of time it takes to exit the theater and gain access to the only stairway to the street, I would not want to be there in an emergency.
It's not often that we get to see a play by a contemporary Chilean playwright in New York. Now, courtesy of the Public Theater, we can see Guillermo Calderon's absurdist comedy set in early 1905 in St. Petersburg (the one on the Neva River, of course). The woman in black pacing back and forth before the play begins is Olga Knipper (Bianca Amato), star of the Moscow Art Theater and widow of Anton Chekhov. She has accepted a guest role with a theater in Russia's capital and is waiting for a rehearsal to begin. The noble-born Aleko (Luke Robertson) and the revolutionary activist Masha (Quincy Tyler Bernstine) are the only other actors to arrive. The rest of the cast may or may not be victims of the Bloody Sunday riot which is under way. Dissatisfied with her own interpretation of her current role, Olga segues from the monologue in the play to her own monologue about the actor's need for love and acclaim. The border between acting and real life is a porous one. Olga enlists Aleko and Masha to reenact scenes from her life, including different version's of Chekhov's death and his sister's reaction to learning about his impending marriage. Masha closes the play with a showy monologue about the irrelevance of theater in a time of revolution. The play contains many lively, entertaining moments, but at times drifts aimlessly. The playwright directed, which is not always a good idea. The nimble translation is by Andrea Thome, herself a playwright. Susan Hilferty's black costumes blend well into the prevailing murk. No set designer is credited. A fight director, Thomas Schall, is listed although the play contains no fights. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.
NOTE: I really dislike attending the Martinson Theater at the Public. Judging from the amount of time it takes to exit the theater and gain access to the only stairway to the street, I would not want to be there in an emergency.
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