2009: The Year In Review

Sixteen Most Outstanding Shows

Thirty Outstanding Performances

Four Outstanding Ensembles

Twelve Freshest Faces

Fault Lines

Inspired by the true story of the Polly Klaas kidnapping, this play takes us to the Northern California home of Bethany, a 32-year-old mother of twins receiving a visit from two childhood friends. Though nervous and hyper, chatty Bethany is also a distinctly West Coast type: new-agey without being self-consciously fashionable about it. Over a compact and fast-paced hour, what seems at first an innocent get-together of old girlfriends is revealed, bit by bit, to be something far more significant. As girls, the three – along with a now-absent fourth – shared a trauma that has bonded them for life. Layers of story lurking beneath the obvious methodically come to light: Jessica's political activism has had an unwanted effect on Kat's family; Bethany, in a kind of religious fervor, has been seeing ghosts and consorting with the enemy. It all cascades towards a satisfying, thought-provoking finish. Read the full review.

Race

The proximity of the recent Oleanna revival just two blocks away makes David Mamet's new play feel just a smidgen formulaic. In both, an angry young woman betrays her mentor because of a grievance for which he is culpable only in an abstract, class-informed way. The thing is, Mamet is so good at provocative audience-baiting dialogue, and Race's major characters so acutely finessed by his cast (he also directed), that it doesn't much matter that we've pretty much heard this story before. Read the full review.

Finian's Rainbow

Conventional wisdom said that Finian's Rainbow, old-fashioned and with once progressive but now supposedly dated themes, wasn't supposed to work in this day and age. Conventional wisdom was dead wrong, and didn't count on the magic that happens when the material is respected and trusted unabashedly. I'd seen the Encores! production and swooned over it, and then saw half of this Broadway transfer a few weeks ago (damn that early 7 PM curtain). Seeing it now, with paying Broadway customers, confirmed how fully the production can captivate and the material can resonate with a contemporary (non-industry, non-aficionado) audience. The show's B-plot, in which a racist white governor is turned black, is the show's trickiest element - if it is not handled in the loving spirit in which it was written, it runs the risk of coming off preachy or worse. It's a testament to this production's resounding success that when the leprechaun Og (played winningly by Christopher Fitzgerald) tells the race-changed governor (Chuck Cooper) that the magic spell should have changed him inside rather than out, this audience applauded spontaneously mid-scene. Conventions that aren't supposed to work anymore - love at first sight, enchanted characters - work as they once dependably did because of the production's wholehearted embrace of them. The result is charming, transporting, even affecting: smart whimsy done miraculously right. The show is blessed with an ideal cast led by the radiant, gorgeous-voiced Kate Baldwin and Broadway's current leading leading man Cheyenne Jackson: their songs together could melt polar ice caps. Whoever thought of and lured Jim Norton into his role is a genius: Norton's performance is perfectly pitched to capture all the humor and a touch of sentimentality while always grounded in something truthful. Fitzgerald, the only major cast change since Encores, swiftly won me over, and I say that as someone who adored predecessor Jeremy Bobb. Terri White makes "Necessity" the best, most pure kind of showstopper - while staying within the confines of what is called for, she sings it with so much heart and musical skill that the audience can't wait to applaud her. The score is full of ageless but not overused gems - "How Are Things In Glocca Mora?", "Ol' Devil Moon", "If This Isn't Love", and so on - and the care has been taken to ensure that they sound warm, balanced and beautiful in the house. (I wish the same level of attention had been paid to the set, the one disappointment of this production, but if sets are a deal-breaker for you I'm sure you aren't here reading my blog anyhow). I'm a fierce proponent of new musicals with fresh, culturally relevant scores, but that doesn't mean I want to see yesteryear's gems left in the dustheap, not when they can shine as brightly as this revival. This is special.

The Great Recession

Reviewed for Theatermania.

So Help Me God!

photo: Richard Termine

One of the definitions of "delicious" for me is "vintage backstage comedy". This one, circa 1927 from Maurine Dallas Watkins (who wrote Roxie Hart, the basis for the musical Chicago), is short on spicy zingers (and a few door slams short of true farce) but it's plenty tasty anyhow. No surprises with the theme or the plot - the wicked stage and all that - so the fun is all in the playing. Comic delight Kristen Johnston, leading a thoroughly capable cast which also includes Anna Chlumsky and Catherine Curtin, plays a glamorous stage diva whose self-absorption knows no bounds as she manipulates everyone in sight, from green high-minded playwright to smitten leading man. She's a hoot and a half, especially in the second act which demands a bit of physical comedy of the "hung over from an all night bender" variety.

'Tis the Season with Vickie and Nickie

Photo: Mirjam Evers

Straight from "the prison circuit" and the land of lutefisk, Vickie and Nickie, otherwise known as real-life sisters Lisa and Lori Brigantino, poke good-natured fun at middle-of-the-road American culture while revving up the crowd with perfectly executed vocal harmonies and musicianship (keyboards, guitar, uke, sax...). In this holiday show they got the balance between spoof and sincerity just right, heavy on the former, belting out Christmas favorites ranging from straight-up takes on "Feliz Navidad" and "Blue Christmas" to Springsteen and Streisand versions of classic carols, supplemented by a couple of punchy original Vickie and Nickie numbers. Amidst the holiday cheer they also worked in hilariously non-jokey versions of "Under Pressure" and that new camp classic, Beyonce's "Single Ladies," which got the audience shouting along in delight. They've discovered, and nailed, the big secret: playing things more or less straight can get more laughs than a lot of horsing around. Read the full review.

My Wonderful Day

photo: Robert Day

When her mom is rushed to the hospital while working as a housemaid, 8 year old Winnie (played credibly and with no trace of preciousness by 28 year old Ayesha Antoine) is left behind in the care of a house full of patronizing adults she doesn't know. As this is a play by (and directed by) Alan Aykbourn, you can be sure that the adults are comic gems - neurotics who are capable of behaving more like children than children and who reveal far more of themselves than they realize. It's especially delicious to see this particular collection of Aykbourn characters given the contrast of a wise-beyond-her years child who (hilariously) mostly takes in their foolishness without a word. There's just one week left of the run (at 59E59, as part of the Brits Off Broadway festival) and all performances are sold out, but it's worth your time to try your luck on the waitlist.

Seven in One Blow, or The Brave Little Kid

Like any good kids' hero, the brave little tailor of Grimm's fairy tale is both bold and clever, defeating powerful enemies by outwitting them. (He also gets the girl.) In this play for children, the tailor is, reasonably enough, turned into an actual kid, and rather than killing the baddies, as in a traditional quest saga like the Twelve Labors of Hercules or The Wizard of Oz, this hero wins their respect and turns them into allies. It's a questionable plot change, as a) the real world does contain real baddies, and b) sometimes one does have to live by one's wits. But it's a nice excuse for songs, bright costumes, and amusing mugging. All in all this is a diverting show for kids up to about eight years old. (The nine-year-old I brought gave it the equivalent of one thumb up.) Read the full review.

Race

photo: Robert J. Saferstein

A wealthy white man (Richard Thomas) stands accused of raping a black woman. Claiming that it was consensual, he has enlisted the services of a particular law firm for one chief reason: both its founding partner, Henry Brown (David Alan Grier), and young associate (Kerry Washington) are African American. Also on the scene is Jack Lawson (James Spader), Brown's white partner, who has conflicted feelings about the nature of the case but decides to focus on a specific factual aspect that, if true, would all but assure acquittal. David Mamet has sidestepped the issue of identity politics in previous plays, but Race is his first evening-long exploration of the topic. It is also his finest work in years. Spader and Grier are both brilliant as best friends and business partners who, try as they might, cannot escape the inbred associations of their races; the former shows not a trace of the legal-eagle showboating for which he became famous on television, and the latter taps into the conflicted nature of his character terrifically. Though his role is slightly underwritten, Thomas strongly conveys the duality of his character: your opinion of his guilt or innocence changes from moment to moment, as it should. And despite early preview reports claiming that she was out of her league, Washington (at the critics' performance I attended) more than held her own against her more-seasoned co-stars and delivered a richly layered performance in one of the most complex female roles Mamet has ever written. Very highly recommended.

She Like Girls

Photo: Julie Rossman

This smartly observed play about inner-city kids focuses on the sexual awakening of one in particular. Unlike some "ghetto kid" dramatizations, it avoids the sin of trying too hard. In language that's spicy and realistic, playwright Chisa Hutchinson crafts believable characters who are vividly realized by an excellent cast of mostly newbies. The one thing Ms. Hutchinson can't seem to do is think of an ending. But until that disconcerting, disappointing five seconds, the neatly plotted She Like Girls is an entertaining and affecting journey through one kid's troubled life and psyche. Read the full review.

A Streetcar Named Desire

Is Cate Blanchett's Blanche DuBois a Blanche for the ages? Hard to say, this soon, but it's powerful and memorable, and this triumphant production is a highlight of the season. From all the way on the other side of the world, the Sydney Theatre Company, run by Ms. Blanchett and her husband Andrew Upton, bravely brings this most American of plays back to America in its full faded glory. The New Orleans accents may be a touch touch-and-go, with lines occasionally hard to make out and Ms. Blanchett's southern drawl marked by a curious semi-lisp (not that these accents are much easier for American actors to master). But the three-plus hours of this nearly flawless production – helmed in inspired, fluid fashion by Liv Ullman (firmly established in a second career as a director) – dash by, leaving us both shaken and stirred. Read the full review.

The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter

Everyone wants someone to connect with. Everyone wants to be understood. Everyone wants to be heard. In The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter, a group of people, each seeking to be connected, understood, and heard, share their deepest longings with a deaf man, John Singer, who can read lips but can barely keep up with the tsunami of words pouring out of their needy souls. And who will hear him? Rebecca Gilman's adaptation of Carson McCullers' novel efficiently sets up and manages the interlocking storylines and gracefully introduces us to the union organizer, the young music lover, the African-American physician and his family, and the others whose hearts are lonely hunters. Nicely directed by Doug Hughes and well-acted by a strong ensemble cast (standouts include Henry Stram as John Singer and the always excellent Roslyn Ruff), the production is solid but lacks a certain spark.

This

Photo: Aaron Epstein

Jane's husband Roy died a year ago, and she has been living life at a distance, just getting by. Alan drinks too much and feels lonely and lost. Tom and Marrell's marriage is in even worse shape than they fear. Marrell wants to introduce Jane to a sexy French physician despite Jane's declared lack of interest. From this basic, even somewhat familiar, set up, Melissa James Gibson has wrought a delicate, moving, and funny exploration of loss, memory, adultery, self-pity, and all the different forms of love. The structure of This is elegant, with ideas, pieces of information, and small moments tying together in unexpected and compelling ways. Gibson also allows the play--and the characters--to breathe with moments that just are, such as a remarkably fascinating phone call carried out entirely in French. Subtly directed by Daniel Audin and superbly acted by Louis Cancelmi, Elsa David, Glenn Fitzgerald, Julianne Nicholson, and Darren Pettie, This beautifully presents the quiet moments and everyday interactions that add up to life.

A Streetcar Named Desire

I found the much-lauded production of Tennessee Williams's A Streetcar Named Desire starring Cate Blanchett and directed by Liv Ullman to be a major disappointment. Blanchett's Blanche is full of sound and fury, signifying little. Ullman's heavy-handed direction pairs skin-deep overwrought performances with arbitrary images, as when Blanche moves from the floor to the bed for no reason other than to allow the light from a passing train to illuminate her alabaster skin and long neck, then returns to the floor for no reason at all. Joel Edgerton as Stanley has a nice chest, but he looks like Conan O'Brien, which is fine for a talkshow host but not for a Stanley. His voice is wrong for the part, his performance is one note, and his eyes fail to participate in his acting. The set is too dingy, ugly, and bare; Stanley and Stella aren't rich, and they don't care much about appearances, but they'd own a bit of furniture. The all-important curtain between the two rooms isn't large enough, leading to awkward staging. Many moments are played for laughs that shouldn't be played for laughs. Even the poster (see above) seems wrong. [spoilers in the next paragraph]

Because this Streetcar is overdirected and overacted from the beginning, there is no place to go for the final scenes except way way too far. By Blanche and Stanley's big showdown, Blanche is so drunk and damaged that the rape loses any sense of revenge, reclaiming turf, and showing who's boss and is just plain icky. It also loses its sense of being the tipping point, the place from which Blanche cannot return--in this version, Blanche has passed that point long ago. And when the people from the asylum come to take Blanche away, she leaves the house in her slip, without shoes. I do not believe that Blanche would do that, nor do I believe that Stella would let her. At the very end, Blanche walks away from the "kind stranger" and wanders across the stage until she reaches her mark for another moment of illumination of her alabaster skin and long neck. And then the show is over, eliminating the resumption of the poker game with its sense of life cold-heartedly returning to normal.

A few months ago, I saw an excellent production of Streetcar at the Barrington Stage Company (review here). In that production, every acting and directing decision was made in service of the play. This production is more like a riff on Streetcar, one that does not do it justice.

For the record, the second the show ended, the audience, after guffawing raucously throughout, leapt to their feet and cheered.

In the Next Room or the Vibrator Play

Photo: Joan Marcus

By the time the magical snow-globe ending rolls around, the play has transformed from a mildly clever comedy of manners into an old-fashioned comic romance, with sad partings preceding something resembling a wedding (or a wedding night, anyway). In spite of the thoroughly charming performances, including a sprightly and touching turn from the always effervescent Laura Benanti, I found the plot turns, the character development, and (in the first act) the dialogue formulaic. Yet after a while as the play deepened it won me over, like a hit pop song with a predictable hook and a fancy arrangement, a song which proves, after several listens, to contain depth charges of honest feeling beneath its shiny surface. It wasn't merely the funny moments, the nifty set and the absolutely stunning costumes. Sexual content aside, there's a heartwarming fairy-tale sparkle to the story, and at the same time it provokes us to think about how malleable is the human nature that we tend to think is so fundamental. Read the full review.

Loaded

Photo: David Morgan

Elliot Ramon Potts's Loaded is a throwback to the worst aspects of the early days of gay theater. Using a jaded older man and an idealistic young man as mouthpieces, the author presents a Gay 101 polemic in which gay marriage, safe sex, and sexism are debated--badly (whether the penetrator does or does not have an orgasm during unprotected anal sex is not the measure of safe sex; same-sex couples cannot attain the benefits of marriage by going to a lawyer and filling out some documents). Even worse, Loaded is one of those plays in which one of the characters would have left the situation ten minutes in and only remains because the author wants him to--not because there is any reason on earth for him to be there. There is little that is believable in Loaded, and its ninety minutes are the longest time I've ever spent in the company of gay men where not a single witty, smart, or funny thing was said.

Next to Normal

photo: Joan Marcus

I recently revisited Next to Normal for the first time since seeing an early preview Off-Broadway at Second Stage. At that time, I was one of the show's few detractors, finding the book nearly non-existent, the lyrics clumsy, and the overall message unenlightened and potentially harmful. In the nearly two years between that first visit and the second, my opinion about the tenor of the musical hasn't necessarily changed, but my feelings about the material and the performances have certainly deepened. Though her voice has unquestionably eroded from singing this rock score eight times a week, Alice Ripley's performance is still a marvel; her Diana is probably the most multi-layered musical theatre creation since Tonya Pinkins' Caroline Thibodeaux, and her Tony win was richly deserved. Jennifer Damiano, too, has grown immensely as Natalie: she has turned a character that I once viewed as nothing more than a petulant teen into a deeply emotional young woman. All of the changes to the score--which include replacing the laughable "Everything" with the arresting "Maybe (Next to Normal)" and inserting a duet for Natalie and Diana, "Wish I Were Here," at the top of Act Two--improve the flow of the show greatly. While I cannot fully say that I'm completely on board (the show still has some deeply disturbing tone issues), I left the Booth with a newfound respect for nearly everyone involved.

Post No Bills

photo: Sandra Coudert

Two down-and-out middle-aged men beg for a living in the city along a wall called the Post No Bills, so named for its one painted sign, in Mando Alvarado's formulaic but absorbing play currently at Rattlestick. As soon the more shut-down of the two, a once moderately famous musician, begrudgingly takes a toughened teenage street girl under his wing we generally know where the relationship (and the story) will go. Despite this, the play is almost consistently compelling - the acting is nuanced and involving (Teddy Canez is especially excellent as the pained, gruff musician) and the playwright gets a lot of humor out of the characters. The play is punctuated with brief musical performances of the unpretty soul-baring kind that add welcome texture and mood. While there are some plot points in the second act that I didn't buy, and more than a few moments that seem underdeveloped (mostly with the play's two supporting characters) there is more often the ring of truth in the play's details.