Happy Days

In the first act of Samuel Beckett's Happy Days, Winnie is buried up to her waist in a large mound of barren earth. In the second act, she is buried up to her neck. The mound of earth can be seen as life, or aging, or even just a mound of earth. No matter the interpretation, Winnie tries to make the best of it, carrying out her (limited) rituals, sharing her thoughts with a man we barely see whom she has clearly know for years (her husband? lover?), and being ever grateful when a day turns out to have a good moment or two. "Oh, this is a happy day," she says. She adds, "This will have been another happy day," as though to file it for the future when it will be a precious memory.

Brooke Adams
Photo: Joan Marcus

In the production currently at The Flea, directed by Andrei Belgrader and starring Brooke Adams and (her husband) Tony Shalhoub, Winnie chirps along, accentuating the positive and barely listening to her own words. Adams' performance is flat, with a largely monotonal presentation. She recites words rather than inhabiting them. (Full disclosure: the night I saw Happy Days, the audience gave Adams a standing ovation, so mine is clearly a minority opinion.)

[spoilers] 

The production as a whole doesn't listen to Beckett's words or else fails to examine the anguish behind them. It is a coarsened version of Happy Days, complete with masturbation and flying snot. Willie's reappearance at the end of act two is treated as slapstick rather than desperation. These decisions, while lessening the impact of the play, can be justified based on the text. Less justifiable is the moment when Winnie signals the audience to clap to try to entice Willie to sing. If Winnie is aware of the audience, than her isolation is considerably less isolated.

The Weir

Photo: Carol Rosegg

Irish theater values the act of storytelling as much as -- if not more than -- the story itself. The danger each playwright faces is that taken too far, this approach can feel like fetishization. Unfortunately, that's my impression of Conor McPherson's 1997 drama The Weir, which the Irish Repertory Theatre is reviving at its current digs in Union Square (the company previously presented this play -- with several of the same cast members -- two years ago). The play is little more than storytelling: in a remote Irish pub, the locals belt Jameson and Harp and indulge in spinning supernatural yarns they claim as true. McPherson is fascinated by the supernatural -- his plays The Seafarer and Shining City address the spirit world more directly -- and The Weir is a humanist attempt at a ghost story. It's also neither particularly poetic nor convincingly chilling. The actors give mostly fine performances, although more than a few line readings felt oddly tentative, and Amanda Quaid -- the lone woman, who shares the most disturbing story -- seemed young for her role. However, although only ninety-five minutes, Ciaran O'Reilly's production feels like a night where you stayed at the pub a few drinks past your limit.

[4th row, discounted ticket]

Equality!

Shows For Days

photo: Joan Marcus

The trickiest part of crafting a memoir is getting your very personal story to speak to something universal and recognizable for a wide audience. The best works of autobiography -- whether on the page (think Helen Keller's The Story of My Life or, more recently, Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking) or the stage (Long Day's Journey Into Night, The Glass Menagerie) -- burrow deep into their authors' most private, painful and significant life experiences to create work whose power supersedes the specific. In an era where memoirs are more ubiquitous than ever, it is becoming harder and harder to strike this balance.

Unfortunately, Douglas Carter Beane's Shows For Days (at Lincoln Center's Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater) misses the mark by a wide margin. In telling his own story, Beane is so hyper-specifically focused on minutiae that you're left to wonder if the people he's writing about would care to spend time with -- much less recognize the humanity in -- themselves.

Men on Boats

In Clubbed Thumb's production of Jaclyn Backhaus's extraordinary Men on Boats, perfectly directed by Will Davis, it is 1869, and ten men are canoeing down the Colorado River in search of the "big canyon." They are in many ways a familiar bunch: the laconic hunter, the effete Englishman, the quirky old man (think Walter Brennan), the young man on his first adventure, the brilliant map-maker, and so on. They are led by a brave, stubborn one-armed captain. Their adventures and misadventures echo those of dozens of movies, old and new. No cliché goes unturned.

This might be business as usual, except that the actors are all women. They play the men as men, with no sense of drag or winking at the audience. They commit! They are a brilliant bunch of performers, and they nail the male clichés, all of which become sparkling new in their hands. Macho posturing, half-whispered voices, plaintive campfire songs, jostling for command, and other manly activities and traits all demand a fresh look when played by these amazing women. That the cast is multi-racial adds another layer of built-in commentary.

My Perfect Mind

Here is how My Perfect Mind is described in press materials and on the 59e59 website:

Petherbridge, Hunter
Photo: Manuel Harlan

Acclaimed classical actor and two-time Tony Award nominee Edward Petherbridge was cast as King Lear, when on the second day of rehearsals he suffered a stroke that left him barely able to move. As he struggled to recover Edward made a discovery: the entire role of Lear still existed word for word in his mind.

From being on the brink of playing one of Shakespeare's most revered roles, to lying in a hospital bed surrounded by doctors, Edward never imagined what tragedies and comedies lay in store for him.

I would have liked to see that play.

The Qualms

Photo: Joan Marcus

Bruce Norris can write. His dialogue crackles, his jokes mostly land, and occasionally he creates surprisingly vivid, three-dimensional characters. He's also a polemicist, and while he's less didactic -- and far less capital-S Serious -- than present-day windbag David Mamet, it's always clear that he has a point to put across, and he won't rest until you get it. This usually results in his plays, at some point, devolving from breezy, mildly unsettling evenings into a full-on death match, in which the characters basically form a circle and start berating each other. (For reference, see: pretty much the entire second act of his Pulitzer Prize winner, Clybourne Park). Again, this is not to say that the man's without talent. It's just that some people are better at using the sugar to make the medicine go down.

Norris' latest, The Qualms (at Playwrights Horizons through July 12), has a lot going for it. For my money, it boasts the tightest acting ensemble currently treading boards in New York. The action -- no pun intended -- centers around a beachfront condo where a group of middle-aged, well-to-do suburbanites have gathered to swap partners. Most of the guests are old pros; the too-cutely named Chris (Jeremy Shamos) and Kristy (Sarah Goldberg) are the newbs. Kristy hooks up with the host's partner (the brilliant Kate Arrington) within the first five minutes of the play; Chris spends the full ninety minutes resenting the entire arrangement, despite the fact it's implied that the idea to attend was his. 

The Qualms

The Qualms, by Bruce Norris, focuses on a bunch of friends who get together periodically to have sex with one another in twos and threes. They are mellow, sure of what they want, and loving. On the night of the play, a new couple has joined them: Chris and Kristy. Chris and Kristy radiate the awkwardness of people who have never done this before and aren't 100% sure they want to do it now.

Champlin, Lucien
Photo: Joan Marcus

In a way, The Qualms is a Utopia story. A group of people have made the world they want, and it works, until (not to mix metaphors) the snake shows up in the garden of Eden.

Chris is the snake here, and what an overwritten, straw man of a snake he is. Of course, he's white and works in finance. Of course, he's rigid and humorless. Of course, he's moralistic and judgmental. Of course, he's racist, sexist, homophobic, and size-ist. Of course, he's jealous and paranoid. Of course, he's unrelievedly rude. And, of course, they don't just throw him out on his ass, because then there wouldn't be a play.

Guards at the Taj

Doug Hamilton

Rajiv Joseph's stunning heart-breaker of a play, Guards at the Taj, is currently running through the end of June at Atlantic Theater Company's Linda Gross Theater. It is a beautiful production: crisply directed by Amy Morton, sumptuously lit by David Weiner, and superbly acted by Omar Metwally (Humayun) and Arian Moayed (Babur). I hope it gets extended, and I hope you get the chance to see it.

Guards at the Taj is similar to Joseph's Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo in its moody ruminations and its gently absurdist bent. But it is a smaller, more carefully constructed, and thus more emotionally satisfying affair: two characters, two sets, five brief and tautly constructed scenes. The show examines a few years in the lives of two (very) low-level imperial guards in Agra, India during the mid-1600s. Humayun and Babur are just as lost and yearning as many of the characters in Bengal Tiger were. But while that play felt looser and less cohesive, Taj zooms in on its characters' preoccupations, philosophies, emotional needs, strengths and weaknesses. Also, their lifelong friendship and love for one another, which is central to this play's warm, if also rather bloody, heart.

10 out of 12

Tech rehearsals occur in the days immediately preceding actual performances. They allow the set, lighting, and sound people, along with the stage management team, to practice, polish, and sometimes even perfect their end of things. Tech rehearsals are notoriously stop-and-go. For example, a scene might get a line or two in and then be stopped for 20 minutes as lights are dealt with. Two lines later, the scene might be stopped again to fix a sound cue. Tech rehearsals tend toward the tedious, but they can also be full of humor and comradery.

Sue Jean Kim
Photo: Julieta Cervantes

Anne Washburn's new play, 10 out of 12, directed by Les Waters at the Soho Rep, immerses the audience in the not-very-smooth tech rehearsals of a not-very-good play. We watch scenes from the show and see and hear the designers and director make artistic decisions and deal with obstacles. The characters are located all around the theatre, as they would be in a real tech. Through individual audience headsets, we also hear the stage manager and backstage techies do their jobs and chat about this and that. We witness personal interactions both in the theatre and on the headsets. It's a nice setup.

Heisenberg

photo: Joan Marcus

An almost-bare stage, two actors, razor-sharp direction, simple lighting, a few props: sometimes this is all you need to create an absolutely magnetic piece of theater. Such is the case with Heisenberg, the new play by Simon (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time) Stephens receiving its world premiere at Manhattan Theatre Club's intimate Studio at Stage II. It may well be the hottest ticket in town these day, due in large part to the low ticket price ($30 a pop) and the presence of Mary-Louise Parker, returning to her Off-Broadway roots and giving her best stage performance in over a decade.

In Georgie -- a pathologically lying American living in London -- Parker has found a role exquisitely tailored to her particular strengths. We first meet her in a train station, where she's embarrassed herself by kissing the neck of a complete stranger, an Irish butcher named Alex (the extraordinary Denis Ardnt). You see, she momentarily lost herself, thinking Alex her late husband. She poignantly explains how much she misses him, tears held perfectly in her eyes. Moments later, she confesses that she's never been married.

After the chance meeting, Georgie continues to insert herself in Alex's life, alternately exasperating and beguiling him. She appears at his butcher shop, not looking to buy any meat. She makes confessions as quickly as she retracts them. The writing places Georgie perilously close to stereotype -- the audience could as easily be annoyed with her as Alex sometimes is -- but Parker's finely wrought work helps accentuate the character's seductive and sensual elements. Parker has never been a particularly sexy performer, despite playing sexualized characters; here, when she asks Alex to bed, you never question whether it's something she would do, or what the outcome would be.

Arndt is an actor primarily seen in California and West Coast regional theater. If the Lortel Archives are accurate, this production represents his first foray onto the New York stage in nearly thirty years. Let's hope the next interval isn't so lengthy, because he is a revelation. Playing against an actor as plugged into the text as Parker cannot be easy, yet Ardnt's Alex matches her step for step, and he manages to be just as spontaneously surprising as his co-star. Together, they comprise the most kinetic couple on the New York stage.

[$30 full price ticket, fourth row audience right]

How'd We Do? Show Showdown Tony Predictions Wrap-Up

This post discusses the accuracy of the predictions we made here at Show Showdown. Suffice to say that none of us should leave our day job and go into fortune-telling. Mind you, we did all get Curious Incident for best play, Fun Home for best book, and Helen Mirren for best actress in a play. We may not be Nostradamuses, but we are awake! (And I'm not going to point out the ones where we were all wrong.)

Fun Home wins Best Musical, proving that it takes a village
(of extremely talented people)
Photo: Sara Krulwich

The "total right" stat at the bottom of this table is a little unfair, because not all of us made predictions in all the categories (hence the empty cells). The numbers in parens after the "total right" numbers are how-many-right-per-how-many-predicted stats.

Our correct predictions are highlighted.

	Cameron	Liz	Sandra	Wendy
Best play: Curious Incident	Curious Incident	Curious Incident	Curious Incident	Curious Incident
Best musical: Fun Home	An American in Paris	Fun Home	An American in Paris
Best revival of a play: Skylight	Skylight	Skylight	Skylight	You Can’t Take it With You
Best revival of a musical: The King and I	The King and I	On the Twentieth Century	The King and I	On the Twentieth Century
Best book of a musical: Fun Home	Fun Home	Fun Home	Fun Home	Fun Home
Best original score: Fun Home	Fun Home	The Last Ship	Fun Home	Fun Home
Leading actor in a play: Alex Sharp	Alex Sharp			Alex Sharp
Leading actress in a play: Helen Mirren	Helen Mirren	Helen Mirren	Helen Mirren	Helen Mirren
Leading actor in a musical: Michael Cerveris	Robert Fairchild	Michael Cerveris	Ken Watanabe	Michael Cerveris
Leading actress in a musical: Kelli O’Hara	Kristin Chenoweth	Kristin Chenoweth	Leann Cope	Kristin Chenoweth
Featured actor in a play: Richard McCabe	Richard McCabe			Micah Stock
Featured actress in a play: Annaleigh Ashford	Annaleigh Ashford	Annaleigh Ashford		Annaleigh Ashford
Featured actor in a musical: Christian Borle	Brad Oscar	Andy Karl	Christian Borle	Christian Borle
Featured actress in a musical	Ruthie Ann Miles		Sydney Lucas	Judy Kuhn
Scenic design, play: Bunny Christie and Finn Ross, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time	Wolf Hall	Bunny Christie and Finn Ross, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time		Bunny Christie and Finn Ross, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Scenic design, musical: Bob Crowley and 59 Productions, An American in Paris	The King and I	The King and I	The King and I	The King and I
Costume design, play: Christopher Oram for Wolf Hall Parts One & Two	You Can't Take It With You	The Audience		Wolf Hall Parts One & Two
Costume design, musical: Catherine Zuber for The King and I	On the Twentieth Century	The King and I	The King and I	The King and I
Lighting, play: Paule Constable for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time	The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time	The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time		The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Lighting, musical: Natasha Katz for An American in Paris	The Visit			The King and I
Direction, play: Marianne Elliott for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time	Marianne Elliott for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time	Marianne Elliott for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time		Marianne Elliott for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Direction, musical: Sam Gold for Fun Home	Sam Gold, Fun Home		Christopher Wheeldon, An American in Paris	Casey Nicholaw, Something Rotten!
Choreograpy: Christopher Wheeldon for An American in Paris	Joshua Bergasse, On the Town	Christopher Wheeldon, An American in Paris	Christopher Wheeldon, An American in Paris	Christopher Wheeldon, An American in Paris
Orchestrations: Christopher Austin, Don Sebesky, Bill Elliott for An American in Paris	John Clancy, Fun Home	Rob Mathes, The Last Ship	Rob Mathes, The Last Ship	Christopher Austin, Don Sebesky and Bill Elliott, An American in Paris
Total correct	13 (13/24)	12 (12/19)	9 (9/16)	15 (15/23)

The Tony Awards: Speeches You Didn't See

There will be plenty of time for people to weigh in on the ups and downs of the Tony Awards broadcast last night. I personally thought it was, for the most part, fine: Alan Cumming and Kristen Chenoweth overcame stupid opening material (and some unfortunate schtick throughout) to be pleasant enough as co-hosts. The musical numbers were engaging enough, or not, and either made me want to see the productions in question, or not. Sting has grown a beard and looks like a dope. Jersey Boys has been running for 500 years and I have no fucking clue why they did a closing number, but I hardly lost sleep about it. And finally, while I'm the first to argue that these kinds of awards ceremonies just don't mean very much, I was nevertheless thrilled for the cast and company of Fun Home, and glad to know that the Tony voters recognized that show as a major artistic achievement.

I was, however, kind of bummed that so many good speeches, by winners from some interesting and monumentally important categories, were cut from the broadcast. I thought I'd post them all here. If there are more that I'm missing, please feel free to let me know, and I can put them up, too.

Meanwhile, I look forward to reading more about what other people thought of Sting's beard in the days to come.

Show Showdown's Totally Unscientific, Completely Biased, Absolutely Pointless Tony Forecast, 2015

This year's Tony Awards are going to be aired on Sunday, June 7, and we at Show Showdown are so excited that we couldn't help but weigh in with our first ever forecast. There are a number of categories that are totally up for grabs this time around, and the close competition should make for a ceremony that is filled with surprises.

Our picks are listed below, with occasional commentary, and omissions when one or the other of us had no strong opinions about a particular category, or hadn't seen enough to weigh in comfortably.

BEST PLAY

Cameron, Wendy, Sandra and Liz

Will win: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

Wendy: Curious Incident couldn't do what it does as a movie or TV show; it makes full use of the magic of theatre to take us on a journey both with someone and in his head.

Cameron

Should win: Disgraced

Tuesdays at Tesco's

In many ways, it's a familiar story. An adult child continues to care for her elderly parent despite never receiving simple acknowledgement and acceptance of who she is. The adult child might have married out of the faith or chosen a profession against the parent's advice. The adult child might be gay. Whatever the circumstances, the elderly parent remains withholding, no matter how helpful the adult child is or how many sacrifices and compromises she makes.

Simon Callow
Photo: Carol Rosegg

In Tuesdays at Tesco's the adult child is transwoman Pauline. Pauline's father makes no secret of his disgust at her physical presentation, insists on calling her Paul, and stands as far away as possible when they do their weekly shopping at the titular Tesco's, a British grocery/department store.

Written by Emmanuel Darley (adapted and translated by Matthew Hurt and Sarah Vermande) and directed by Simon Stokes, Tuesday at Tesco's stars Simon Callow. While it's sort of a one-person show, Callow shares the stage with musician Conor Mitchell, who accompanies Pauline's periodic dance breaks, which are physical expressions of her emotions and personality. When not playing, Mitchell takes notes, slumps at the piano, and otherwise pulls focus. Together, the dances and Mitchell's presence add little and take away a lot. They would not be missed in a show that feels oddly long at 75 minutes.

Nice Girl

What does it mean to be a "nice girl"? And is it really a positive label? In Melissa Ross's Nice Girl at the Labyrinth, Jo (the smart and subtle Diane Davis) doesn't feel nice at all. She knows that she is angry and even bitter, and that she only carries out the actions that make her seem nice because she's too passive not to.

Diane Davis
Photo: Monique Carboni

Jo lives with and takes care of her mother, Francine (Kathryn Kates), a woman who rarely changes out of her housecoat and whose only exercise is pressing Jo's buttons. Although Jo was once student at Radcliffe, her father's death and her mother's neediness truncated her education. She is now a secretary at an accounting firm, depressed and lonely. She is 37 and stuck.

One day Jo's coworker Sherry (the wonderfully vivid Liv Rooth) reaches out to her. Where Jo is turned inward and doesn't even know what she wants, Sherry explodes outward, with a loud voice, overdone makeup, and strong appetites that she fulfills whenever she can. Sherry tells Jo that has been dating--and loving--a man who just recently mentioned that he has a wife (they're separated) and child. Sherry is furious at him, but she is also angry at herself for the general messiness of her life. She sees Jo as, yes, a nice girl, and she thinks that a friendship might be good for both them.

The King and I

The King and I is an odd classic. Full of wonderful songs, it features a dumb plot with a cutesy approach to female enslavement, a condescending view of Siamese culture, unconvincing scenes that rely too heavily on the charms of the leads to cover their flaws, and a truly bizarre combination of cheerfulness, silliness, seriousness, and weirdness.

Kelli O'Hara
Photo: Paul Kolnik

Say we're willing to buy that a king would show so much interest in a teacher of his children. Say that we dismiss the ickiness of his receiving a woman as a gift as a cultural difference. Say we even give him credit for doing the best he can. We're still supposed to be pleased that the teacher--a smart and independent woman--is attracted to him, even though he's basically a slave owner who has sex with dozens of women whether or not they want to have sex with him.

And then, the teacher kills him by calling him a barbarian and making him look weak by stopping him from whipping a wayward wife--and in front of other people!

In the production of The King and I at Lincoln Center, Kelli O'Hara (lovely but not all that interesting as Anna) and Ken Watanabe (chewing the exquisite scenery as the king) lack the charm and chemistry to distract from the show's weak points. It doesn't help that Ashley Park as Tuptim and Conrad Ricamora as Lun Tha are more interested in the sounds of their own voices than each other. Nor does it help that Bartlett Sher blocks the show with constant and distracting movement.  I respect that Sher is (I assume) trying to make sure that everyone in the difficult Beaumont Theatre has a chance to see what is going on, but the show starts to look busy for busy-ness' sake. In particular, the King and Anna circle each other like boxers in the ring, which is effective up to a point but becomes annoying.

The show doesn't lack strengths. O'Hara's singing is often wonderful, and "Getting to Know You" is a pleasure. Ruthie Ann Miles is a formidable and excellent Lady Thiang. And the show is gorgeous to look at, from the second you set foot in the theatre. The sets, designed by Michael Yeargan, are downright scrumptious.

(third row, to audience left of center, member ticket)