Love, Love, Love *** B

Mike Bartlett’s (Cock, Bull, King Charles III) 2010 unflattering portrait of the British generation born around 1950 has arrived in New York at Roundabout’s Laura Pels Theatre. It follows a young self-absorbed couple over a 40+ year period. Kenneth (Richard Armitage) is freeloading in his hardworking older brother Henry’s (Alex Hurt) shabby London flat during his summer break from Oxford. When Henry brings home a date, the free-spirited Sandra (Amy Ryan), it does not turn out well for him. In the second act, set in a modern, attractive suburban home about 20 years later, Kenneth and Sandra have two teen-aged children — Rose (Zoe Kazan), a devoted violin student about to celebrate her 16th birthday and Jamie (Ben Rosenfield), a few years younger. It is clear that the couple feel hemmed in by their marriage and are not exactly model parents. In the final act, another 20 years later, we find Kenneth and Sandra in self-satisfied retirement while their adult children are floundering. The first act entertainingly sets up the central relationship. The second act, by far the most entertaining of the three, vividly shows how their situation has developed. The final act, alas, turns a bit polemical as Rose blames her parents and, by extension, their generation for her own problems. The dialog is sharp and the situations often amusing. You may cringe, but you’ll probably laugh. Amy Ryan is sensational, worth the price of admission. Richard Armitage and Zoe Kazan are also strong. Alex Hurt does his best with a one-note character and Ben Rosenfeld, with an underwritten one. The three distinct sets by Derek McClane and the period costumes by Susan Hilferty establish the time and place well. In the final act, more could have been done with makeup and wigs to make them look their age. Michael Mayer’s direction is assured and fluid. A few of the British references do not travel well. The ironic title comes from a Beatles lyric. If you appreciate fine acting and want to keep up with the works of an acclaimed contemporary playwright, you will probably find the play worthwhile. If you need sympathetic characters to identify with, you will probably not. Running time: 2 hours 5 minutes, including two intermissions.

Clive [zero stars]

(Please click on the title to see the full review.)
Having enjoyed The New Group's production of Jonathan Marc Sherman's play "Things We Want" directed by Ethan Hawke about five years ago, I was looking forward to seeing "Clive," Sherman's adaptation of Brecht's "Baal," directed by and starring Hawke. To say I was disappointed would be a gross understatement. Although it's only January, this is my nomination for worst play of the year -- any year. The dissolute poet in Brecht's early play has been transposed to a rock-and-roll musician with a large capacity for booze, drugs and sex. Unfortunately, as told be Sherman, his tale is an incoherent, indulgent, boring mess! About the only good thing I can say about it is that I enjoyed seeing Vincent D'Onofrio onstage. Other cast members include Brooks Ashmanskas, Stephanie Janssen, Mahira Kakkar, Zoe Kazan, Aaron Krohn, Dana Lyn and the playwright. Derek McLane's high-concept set included seven doors that double as musical instruments. Catherine Zuber's costumes are clever, which is more than I can say about the play. I would rather undergo root canal surgery than sit through this play again. Running time: one hour, 40 minutes without intermission.

Asuncion *

Jesse Eisenberg's comedy, now at the Cherry Lane in a Rattlestick production, is the third play by a young actor turned playwright that I have seen since June. The others were Zach Braff's "All New People" at Second Stage and Zoe Kazan's "We Live Here" at Manhattan Theatre Club. Of the three, Zach Braff was the most successful. His play was no masterpiece, but was at least a guilty pleasure. The Kazan play landed with a thud. Now along comes Eisenberg's play, which falls somewhere in between. Unlike the other two actor/playwrights, who did not appear in their plays, Eisenberg wrote the showiest role for himself. He plays Edgar, a wildly frenetic self-styled journalist, a hanger-on in an upstate college town, who never stops talking and whose capacity for self-delusion and misunderstanding is limitless. He shares the apartment of Vinny (Justin Bartha, who starred in Braff's play), his former teaching assistant in a Black Studies course, whom he worships and who treats him like his manservant. Edgar's older brother Stuart (Remy Auburgonois) makes a surprise visit from New York with his new Filipina bride Asuncion (Camille Mana) in tow and asks them to let her stay with them for the weekend without explaining why. The disequilibrium brought on by her presence drives the action. The character of Edgar is written so broadly that he is almost a cartoon character. For a few minutes, it was fun to see Eisenberg's Edgar, but it became tiresome very quickly. Bartha captures both the charm and the sinister edge to Vinny. Mana makes the best of an ill-defined role. There are some funny lines along the way, but not enough to hide the play's substantial flaws. John McDermott's set is appropriately seedy for a walk-up off-campus apartment and Jessica Pabst's costumes are fine. Kip Fagan's direction is blameless.

Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes plus intermission

We Live Here *

Earlier this month I saw a play (The Submission) that revolved around whether a budding playwright could get his play produced under his own name. Call me a cynic, but after seeing Zoe Kazan's new play now in previews at Manhattan Theatre Club's Stage I, I had to wonder whether this playwright could have gotten this play produced if she had any other name. The attention MTC lavished on it -- a great set by John Lee Beatty, a good cast (Amy Irving, Mark Blum, Betty Gilpin, Jessica Collins, Jeremy Shamos and Oscar Isaac), who do their best, and one of today's hottest directors, Sam Gold -- all suggest that they found the material worthy. I wish I could agree. The plot evolves from the enforced family togetherness occasioned by the wedding of one of the daughters, whose twin sister died several years prior. The younger daughter brings home a wedding date who she knows will upset her family. Tensions boil over, secrets are revealed. I suspect you will guess each plot development well before it happens. (What Chekhov said about shotguns could equally well apply to motorcycles.) A pivotal character displays personality traits in the second act that are at odds with her behavior in the first act. The dialogue ranges from trendily clever to flat-footed. Even the title is lackluster. There must be many talented young playwrights out there wishing they had greater name recognition. The audience response was tepid.

Running time: just under two hours including intermission