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.

The Designated Mourner ***

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
The Public Theater has revived Wallace Shawn's 1996 play with the original cast of the 2000 New York production -- the playwright as Jack, the title character; Deborah Eisenberg (in real life, Shawn's life partner and accomplished author) as his wife Judy, and Larry Pine as her father Howard, a poet. The play takes place in an unnamed country with an oppressive regime battling a proletarian underground, with collateral damage to the intelligentsia. Howard has a devoted clique who share his contempt for everyone outside their circle. Howard and Judy's leftist leanings eventually lead them both to grief. When things get rough, the apolitical Jack abandons them and undergoes a series of inner crises that lead to his increasing alienation from reality. The play is basically a set of interlocking monologues, with occasional snippets of conversation and virtually no onstage action. To be honest, there was a point about 45 minutes into the play when I wondered how I could make it to intermission (at the 1 hour, 40 minute mark), let alone to play's end. But then, I became more engrossed in it and stayed. I am glad I did because the best scenes are in the second act. Shawn's vivid writing ranges from the poetic to the grotesque. His performance is gripping. Eisenberg grew on me as the evening progressed. Pine, in the smallest role, seemed bland and devoid of charisma. Andre Gregory's direction is, as one would expect, assured, but he made some quirky choices, such as having the audio technician install the actors' mikes after they arrived onstage and placing a glaringly bright fluorescent light on the front edge of the stage for the second act. The minimalist set was effective and the sound design was excellent. I would credit those responsible, but, for reasons unknown, the theater did not give out programs. Running time: 2 hours, 50 minutes including intermission.