Good People ***

David Lindsay-Abaire seems to reinvent himself with each new play for Manhattan Theater Club. His reputation rose with the quirky Fuddy Mears, took a hit after the awful Wonder of the World, and soared with his Pulitzer-winning Rabbit Hole. Now along comes Good People, which doesn't resemble any of his earlier plays. There's a strong autobiographic element in that the play mostly takes place in South Boston, the blue-class Irish stronghold where Lindsay (no Abaire at that point) grew up. The two main characters are Margaret, whose life has been a series of hard knocks and Mike, who had the intelligence, charm and luck to escape Southie to become a doctor with a home in tony Chestnut Hill. During the summer before he left for college, Mike and Margaret dated. They have not seen each other since. As ably played by Frances McDormand, Margaret raises passive aggression to an art form -- she knows where to draw the line, but then has an irresistible urge to cross it. Mike, suavely played by Tate Donovan, ignores several calls he gets from Margaret, who then roars back into his life like a tornado. Estelle Parsons creates a memorable character as Dottie, her landlady and babysitter. Becky Ann Baker is fine as Jean, the friend who loves to stir up trouble. The gorgeous Renee Elise Goldsberry excels as Mike's wife Kate. Patrick Carroll is sympathetic as Margaret's ex-boss and fellow bingo player. Each of John Lee Beatty's sets vividly creates a milieu and the set changes between scenes are admirably smooth. Daniel Sullivan's direction is assured. The play explores the gap between what a person says and what the other person hears.While there are a few plot developments that you will probably see coming, there is much here to admire.

Interviewing the Audience **

The Vineyard Theater is presenting L.A.-based screenwriter/director Zach Helm in a theatrical curiosity inspired by a work that Spalding Gray performed for several years. Zach inteviews three audience members for about 20 minutes each. In some sense, there is little point in reviewing the event since each performance is different. Nevertheless, I will describe the performance I attended. Helm chose three men to interview -- a college student, a middle-aged man and a senior citizen. Each interview began with the question "What brought you here today?" From that point, the interviews headed off in different directions. The college student realized that his "major" had in effect chosen him. The second man has a husband and three children that they are raising in a complicated network of six parents. The retiree has a son he broke ties with and an adopted son with special needs that he has worked hard to provide for. Helm knitted the interviews together with the question of whether we choose our lives or discover the lives we have chosen. Helm's interviewing technique is deceptively low-key. He managed to demonstrate that everyone has a story. Whether you will find it entertaining depends on how interested you are in the lives of others.

Black Tie ***

I have long been a fan of A.R. Gurney, so it came as no surprise that I greatly enjoyed his latest play Black Tie at Primary Stages. Early on, Gurney found his niche and stuck to it. Future cultural anthropologists need only study Gurney's collected plays to find out what it meant to be a WASP in 20th century America. This time out we meet Curtis (Gregg Edelman) who is dressing for his son's rehearsal dinner and thinking about the toast he must give. He has donned his late father's tuxedo (or evening suit, as his father would insist) which he has had altered for the occasion. Teddy, the groom (Ari Brand), is to wear Curtis's tuxedo, which Curtis has outgrown. Symbolism, anyone? When Curtis looks in the mirror, lo and behold, he evokes the ghost of his father (Daniel Davis, in a plummy role) who steps out from behind the mirror to advise him. A man untroubled by doubt, he knew the socially appropriate behavior for every occasion. With occasional interruptions from Curtis's wife Mimi (the excellent Carolyn McCormick) and daughter Elsie (Elvy Yost), neither of whom can see him, the father proceeds to instruct Curtis on how to give the perfect toast. Midway through the 85-minute play, we encounter a series of ever-escalating surprises funny enough (just barely) to outweigh their implausibility. With humor that is never mean-spirited, Gurney pokes fun at WASPS, East Coast liberals, and contemporary social mores. Midst the humor, he raises substantive questions about the role of tradition, continuity and the meaning of love. John Arone's set of a hotel room in a second-rate Adirondack hotel has all the proper accouterments, including antlers and a mounted fish. Mark Lamos, who has done right by Gurney on previous occasions, does so once again here.

Gruesome Playground Injuries *

As I had very much enjoyed Rajiv Joseph's Animals out of Paper a few years back, I was very much looking forward to his latest play now at Second Stage in a production starring Pablo Schreiber and Jennifer Carpenter directed by Scott Ellis. Alas, lightning did not strike twice for me. This tale of accident-prone Doug and troubled Kayleen from ages 8 to 38 failed to grab my interest despite fine acting, good direction and a clever minimalist set by Neel Patel. The several scenes, presented out of chronological order, each present the characters in the wake of some personal injury. The tone drifts between comedy and drama. As adults, they only meet about once every five years. What happened during the gaps between visits is left for us to imagine, which leaves the characters' motivation insufficiently clear. I found the experience frustrating and have decided to pass on Joseph's Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, soon to be on Broadway with Robin Williams.

The running time is 80 minutes without intermission.

The New York Idea ***

Langdon Mitchell's 1906 farcical comedy of manners about divorce among New York's horsey set, revived in 1915 and 1933 and turned into a film with Hedda Hopper in 1920, is back on home turf in a new adaptation by David Auburn. Despite a silly, predictable plot, the play provides a surprisingly entertaining evening. The uniformly excellent cast of 12 (Patricia Connelly, Michael Countryman, Francesca Faridany, Mikaela Feely-Lehmann, Rick Holmes, John Keating, Peter Maloney, Jaime Ray Newman, Patricia O'Connell, Jeremy Shamos, Joey Slotnick, Tom Patrick Stephens) successfully avoid the temptation to condescend to the material.. Director Mark Brokaw keeps things moving briskly. The stylish period costumes by Michael Krass and lovely set by Allen Moyer added to my enjoyment. I'm not sure why Atlantic Theater Company chose to revive this chestnut, but they have done so lovingly and with great flair.

The Whipping Man ***

Manhattan Theatre Club is presenting the New York premiere of Matthew Lopez's historical drama on its City Center stage. The premise that Lopez asks us to accept -- that the household slaves in a Jewish household in Richmond practiced Judaism -- is not totally implausible: in Biblical times, Jews encouraged their slaves to convert and circumcised the males whether or not they converted. Lopez takes the coincidence that the Confederate surrender occurred one day before the beginning of Passover and runs with it to spin an interesting tale of deceit, betrayal and mutual dependence that culminates in a seder. Caleb DeLeon (Jay Wilkinson), the Jewish family's son, is a seriously wounded Confederate officer who returns from the war to find  his home looted, partially destroyed and deserted except for the family's longtime servant Simon (Andre Braugher). The two are soon joined by John (Andre Holland), a former slave Caleb's age with a knack for trouble. At Simon's suggestion, they hold a seder, during which they read and discuss verses about the nature of slavery and freedom.  At the seder, secrets are revealed that forever alter their ties. The play has some awkward moments, but was consistently interesting. The acting was good and Doug Hughes's direction was smooth. John Lee Beatty's set and Ben Stanton's lighting were grimly effective, although I could have done without the symbolic lightning, thunder and rain that never cease.Warning: the first scene is extremely grisly.

Three Pianos *

I was supposed to see this New York Theatre Workshop production on the day of the post-Christmas blizzard. Instead of accepting the blizzard as divine intervention, I foolishly persisted and finally saw it today, the day before it closes. Have you ever known within 30 seconds that a play was not for you? That was my experience here. My heart sank as I realized I was trapped for two long hours of pointless, furious activity. I suppose the intent of the three writer/arranger/performers, Rick Burkhardt, Alec Duffy and Dave Malloy, was to deconstruct Schubert's Winterreise to make it more "accessible" to a modern audience. The opening gimmick is that the three men serving wine to the audience upon arrival turn out to be the performers. They commiserate about their lives, talk about the difficulties of being a composer now as well as in Schubert's day, gradually drift into a reenactment of an alcohol-fueled Schubertiade, assuming the roles of Schubert and his friends. Now and then they perform a song from the cycle, often with commentary. Leonard Bernstein they're not. Nor the Marx Brothers. Andreea Mincic's set, featuring a miniature village whose windows light up occasionally, a birch forest with vertical flourescent lights hanging from the trees, a clothes dryer with period costumes stored in it, a metal stand with numerous house plants, a birdhouse with a bottle of booze hidden inside, a cemetery, two crystal chandeliers over the audience and three upright pianos that get pushed around the stage frantically, perfectly captures the chaotic nature of the piece. On the rare occasion when the shenanigans cease long enough for a song to presented in a form reasonably close to the original, Schubert's music gets a chance to shine through. Alas, these moments are rare. I cannot imagine that this play could instill any desire to listen to more Schubert in anyone. Nevertheless, a substantial number of people seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly. Maybe they had more wine than I did.