Rainbow Kiss

Photo/Carol Rosegg

A lot of so-called mature plays out there just talk about how awful life is and lapse into theatrical tricks when it comes down to showing the gritty truth. Simon Farquhar's Rainbow Kiss doesn't pull any tricks, just like it doesn't pull any punches: this is most jolting play I've seen this year. It is as unsettlingly angry as Martin McDonagh (free of farce), as comically tragic as Conor McPherson (minus mysticism) and messy only in its Scottish slang and uncompromisingly dirty view of life. It takes the best of Abby Spalleen's Pumpgirl (the grimy poetics), Mark O'Rowe's Terminus (the rhythmic cursing), and Robert Farquhar's Bad Jazz (the dissonant energy), and puts a lot of other very good shows to shame. With exceptionally physical direction from a fearless Will Frears and outstanding performances from the cast, most notably the anti-heroic Peter Scanavino, Rainbow Kiss is a must-see play.

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The Drunken City

photo: Joan Marcus

Playwright Adam Bock has given himself a strenous exercise: he's written a play in which all of the characters are sloppy drunk right from the get-go. It's an engaging idea but at the early preview I saw it hadn't yet amounted to anything more than an exercise: once I was done marvelling at how accurately some of the actors sustained the illusion of being intoxicated (particularly good are Barrett Foa and Maria Dizzia) I realized how little room there was to care about the characters. Bock might be aiming for, but hasn't credibly gotten at, the "true nature" behavior that can be revealed by over-boozing. Although there are random, too-brief moments when the actors freeze and more soberly reveal what they're feeling, the play's tone is situation comedy, and there aren't enough funny shocks of recognition to put it over. (Two nice exceptions: the nifty entrances that begin the play, and the meet-cute between the characters played by Foa and Alfredo Narciso.)

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The Drunken City

The characters of The Drunken City all suffer from either loving too hard or being loved too hard; the problem is that just as the actors slip so well into the drunkenness of their roles, they also end up either overplaying their parts (Barrett Foa), or not going far enough (Alfredo Narciso). However, for this giddy, bubbly midnight hour (and twenty minutes) of play, Adam Bock totally pulls us into his world, with an exaggeratedly lush comic tone that turns into a rich, dry drama about the men and women trapped on the shaky ground of love (literally, thanks to David Korins's slick, sleek set). Trip Cullman's direction uses a chic and minimal modernity that fits "the City" and his actors, though sometimes unbalanced alone, make a wonderfully sloppy chorus. Cassie Beck, as the pressured Marnie, is a marvelous anchor, not wasting a single drop of talent even at her tipsiest; Maria Dizzia, as the jilted Melissa, makes the switch between carefree and cautious go down smoothly; and Sue Jean Kim, as Linda, is always good for another shot of comic relief.

[Also blogged by: David | Patrick]

The Break-Up and the Happy Sad

Photo/Joan Marcus

Ken Urban's new one-act, The Happy Sad, is as bipolar in tone as it is in title. At times, it is quirky (characters do not break into song so much as they deliberately pause the action and drift into a reverie) and at others it is profoundly honest (scenes between Marcus and Aaron seem particularly exposed and raw), but it is never wholly comfortable within its own skin. Stephen O'Reilly and Annie Scott, who give a spine to the cyclical scenes as the broken-up Stan and Annie, are good actors stuck in leaden roles (I'm giving O'Reilly the benefit of the doubt that it's just a badly written opening): however, if there's vulnerability beneath Stan's headphones or Annie's nest of hair, it never shows. And that's what Ken Urban struggles most with in his play: showing the truth beneath his tacky, stylistic trappings.

(As for Tommy Smith's ten-minute The Break-Up, which precedes Urban's play, I have nothing -- nothing -- positive to say. Sorry.)

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In The Heights

photo: Joan Marcus

Andy Blankenbuehler can plan on a Tony Award right now: the Latin-flavored, newly-transferred-to-Broadway musical In The Heights is sure to win Best Choreography this year. The numerous ensemble dance numbers are fresh and sensational, pulling from the vocabularies of hip-hop and salsa at least as heavily as from the traditional dancing we're used to seeing in musical theatre. What's more, the dances work even more effectively on a big Broadway stage than they did when the show played off-Broadway last year. The pity is that the show's book, while certainly improved and tightened since the show's previous incarnation, is still weak and wanting: the show presents its Washington Heights barrio as if it was a hip-hop tinged Sesame Street, and the story we don't care about (will Nina leave the hood to return to Stanford?) gets more play than the one we do (will nerdy Usnavi get the girl?). But there are some terrific performers in featured roles - most notably Andrea Burns and Karen Olivio - and it's always a pleasure to see Prisciilla Lopez, even when as here her role is nothing, her song is nothing. Most appealing of all is twenty eight year old Lin-Manuel Miranda, also the show's bookwriter and composer, whose infectious warmth and off-the-charts charisma put a smile on your face whenever he's on stage. This may be his Broadway debut, but without question he is already a star.

The Conscientious Objector

photo: Theresa Squire

With Martin Luther King Jr. and Lyndon B. Johnson as its two main characters, The Keen Company's new play might sound like the kind of thing you were dragged to on your high school field trip. But the absorbing, intimate historical drama, which depicts the two leaders not as one-dimensional heroes but as men struggling mightily with their personal convictions and public responsibilities, is solidly entertaining and finally deeply moving. Not only extensively researched (with a great deal of its dialogue derived from surveillance materials that are now in the public record) but also expertly shaped for dramatic impact, the play's themes have obvious relevance to current-day events. And as we watch Dr. King's growing objections to the Vietnam conflict and we feel the escalating pressures (from Johnson and from civil rights leaders) that tempt him to keep silent about it, it's all too contemporary how even honest, peaceful dissent is demonized as "unpatriotic" in times of war. The playwright (Michael Murphy) creates an arc that convincingly tracks King's fall from popularity as a result of his alignment with the anti-war movement while it also tracks Johnson's growing irritation and impatience: the final scene between the two men is so wrenching it nearly reduced me to tears. I mean no slight at all to the fine ensemble (in which Jonathan Hogan is a stand-out) or to DB Woodside (quietly intense and altogether excellent as King) when I say that John Cullum's superb performance as Lyndon Johnson is practically a Master Class all on its own. There are many compelling reasons to see The Conscientious Objector but if you only need one, Cullum is it.