‘Tis an excellent time for drama in New York. I went to see three plays in a row - one more depressing than the next, to the point where I was getting the feeling I was going to need to check myself into some sort of institution after so much misery in a row - but all three (mostly) brilliantly acted, and all three leaving me in quite a state when the curtain call finally rolled around.
First was FIFTY WORDS, the new play by Michael Weller, starring the always brilliant Elizabeth Marvel, and the usually brilliant Norbert Leo Butz (in the role I’ve seen him tackle that hasn’t been musical and/or comedic). The premise is that this young-ish couple is home alone for the first time since their son was born, because he is at his first sleep over. Things start off normal (and to be perfectly honest, dull) enough, but it doesn’t take too long for the contents of the fridge to start angrily flying, and for Marvel’s mascara to start running down her face. By the end, after a quick bow from the two totally drained actors, when the lights came up, I guess I stood up too quickly, and not realizing how emotionally involved I had been in the play, I was actually a bit dizzy and sort of stumbled into the seat next to me. A more sensible person may say that I lost my balance because I’m a klutz or I have a nasty cold, but I think it’s because this is one damn intense play.
Next up in my trip down misery lane was ALL MY SONS. I had seen the play a number of years ago at the Roundabout (at the old Laura Pels space), but I remembered exactly nothing about it other than that at the end of the first act a pilot crashed in a living room and made all the books fall off of the shelves. Despite the fact that a friend of my mother’s who also saw the play at the Roundabout also said it was the only thing she remembered about the play, it turns out we were both thinking about MISALLIANCE (which, according to the Times review I checked afterwards, had a young(er) Elizabeth Marvel in the role of that crashing pilot). Point being that I remembered absolutely nothing about that production. Still, I can fairly confidently say that it was nothing like the new Broadway revival, directed by Simon McBurney. This new production has the sort of daring director’s vision that one usually sees confined only to BAM (and their subsequent Broadway transfers). I’d venture to say McBurney’s take is bound to be controversial. The sparse but striking set, the OUR TOWN-esque introduction at the top of the play, and the actors sitting and watching the action from the somewhat visible wings may perhaps push the buttons of purists, but I’d venture to say the extensive use of underscoring to heighten (some may say cheapen) the intensity of many scenes, will definitely be a dividing factor in the enjoyment of the this production. There were times when I was a bit bothered by the music, but by the time the totally devastating scenes in the second act rolled along, I have to say I found it grew on me, and I not only didn’t mind it, but quite liked it. John Lithgow, Diane Wiest and Patrick Wilson all give what surely must be some of the finest performances of their careers - certainly the finest performances I’ve seen them give anyway. The big draw of this production is Katie Holmes, in her Broadway debut. The best I can say is she doesn’t embarrass herself. Some of her acting felt very stiff - like she was acting in a different production than the other actors, with some sort of alienation effect in place - but other times she was fine. She’s obviously not up to the level of her far more experienced co-stars (how could she be?), and considering how well the show is selling, if she’s what’s necessary to get butts into seats for one of Arthur Miller’s brilliant plays, I’d say it’s a worthy sacrifice. This is a challenging, unorthodox production, but one that is absolutely a must see.
A few blocks away, another British director is tackling a classic of a different sort, namely Chekhov’s THE SEAGULL. Ian Rickson’s approach is far more subtle, and by the book than McBurney’s, but it is no less powerful. I might have said that Rickson’s production is brilliant, but maybe that’s because it’s so safe. But having seen three other productions of the play in recent years (presented by the Royal Shakespeare Company, Classic Stage Company, and the McCarter), none of which were nearly as good as this one, I have to say that part of what makes this production so exquisite is that it makes it look so easy. Anyone can take a classic drama, stick actors in period costumes and sets, and have them recite lines, but it’s not so easy to assemble such a flawless cast, and get them to spin such a moving story. While ALL MY SONS is very in your face, like it just runs up to you and stabs you repeatedly with a switchblade, THE SEAGULL is more like a slow creeping virus that silently works its way under your skin, and before you know it your clutching your throat dying on the floor. Two different approaches, both with many pitfalls associated, and both when well done, a marvel to watch. I had seen THE SEAGULL in London, with most of the same cast (Konstantin, Arkadina, and Nina were at least the same), and the three of them are just as good, or maybe even better this time around. Peter Saarsgard is apparently controversial as Trigorin, but I don’t really see why everyone is so split about him. I thought he was the best I’d seen do the role so far, and had absolutely no complaints. Kristin Scott Thomas is of course brilliant in the showy role of diva Arkadina, and the girl who plays Nina (whose name I can’t remember, and since I don’t have my Playbill handy right now can’t name - though she deserves to be) really just breaks not just Konstantin’s but the entire audience’s hearts, in her big scene in the final act. It should be an interesting battle for best revival come Tony time between THE SEAGULL and ALL MY SONS. And I haven’t even got around to revisiting EQUUS yet (which I saw on the same trip as THE SEAGULL, last time I was in London).
In the category of a piece of slight entertainment that passes an evening well enough, is SPEED THE PLOW. It’s not one of Mamet’s finest plays, but it’s not horrible either. Still, I’m not really sure why it needed to be revived, other than that it conveniently uses the word “maverick” a few times, which got the audience really excited. Perhaps because he has the most stage experienced of the three actors in cast, Raul Esparza was by far the best of the cast. Of the other two, Jeremy Piven is fine - entertaining enough, anyway - and Kate Moss is kind of bland. It’s only the first week of previews, and I could tell some of the tight rhythm that Mamet requires hasn’t quite fallen into place yet. As I said before, it’s fine as an entertaining diversion, but I wouldn’t call this great, by any stretch.
With the Jewish holidays throwing giant wrenches into my schedule over the past two weeks, that’s been about it for me and theatre for the past two weeks. This weekend I’m off to Chicago (to cram in as much theatre as possible, what else?), and hopefully after that (minus a small diversion for Sukkot the next weekend) my regular theatregoing can get back to normal :O)
