The 1959 Songbook

****
92 Street Y

What a great year from which to glean some of the greatest showtunes in Broadway history. A snapshot of everything running on Broadway in 1959 -including Gypsy, West Side Story, The Sound Of Music, Fiorello, My Fair Lady, The Music Man, among others- this was a heartfelt tribute to the golden age of American theater. Starring the über-talented Broadway stars David Burnham, Sarah Uriarte Berry, Sally Mayes and Donna McKechnie (all of whom were spot on in the final dress rehearsal I attended), they all tore through many of the more popular showtunes and also numbers from lesser known scores like Jamaica and Bells Are Ringing. This is a very fun evening exclamation point! One quibble: In a presumable effort to fit in as much as they could, the production was very cut and paste medley heavy. It should be ILLEGAL to only sing one verse of "One Hand, One Heart"... especially when you have the glorious David Burham and the glorious Sarah Uriarte Berry on hand to sing it. The same goes for glorious Sally Mayes' one verse of"Rose's Turn". "Blasphemy!" cries the showtune junkie!

Vengeance Can Wait

Yukiko Motoya's Vengeance Can Wait didn't convince me that the wait was worth it. Paul H. Juhn has a marvelous deadpan, and his voice delivers not just one-liners, but one-worders. And his happy victim, Jennifer Lim, is talented enough to be verbally and physically self-effacing, an embodiment of the baggy clothes she wears. But beyond this stiflingly dry style -- a style that is absurd simply because of how laid-back the straight comedy is -- there's nowhere to go, and so the actors simply go there again, and again, and again. If you think that's funny, then this is the play you've been waiting for.

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Rafta, Rafta

I'd rather see an original show struggle and fail, like Chuck Mee's cultural smörgåsbord Queens Boulevard, than to see something like Rafta, Rafta succeed at mediocrity. For me, Ayub Khan-Din's done little more than make an ethnic adaptation of Bill Naughton's All in Good Time, and much of the comedy, not to mention drama, feels forced. Scott Elliott does his best to dress things up with bright lights, cultural knickknacks, and his use of Derek McLane's two-story set, but the story isn't big enough to fill the house, nor is the acting firm enough to make it seem lively. What we want to see -- more of the rambling but chaotically lively wedding party, or more ruminations from the father-figure's proud and troubled past -- is covered up with cheap sexual distractions and farce: no wonder the main character is impotent.

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Substitution

***

The Playwrights Realm

This play about a mother and substitute teacher wandering through the grieving process was written for the actress, Jan Maxwell. Thank Thespis she was available for the evening belongs to her realistic and heart-breaking take on the mom who is reeling over the death of her son. Every laugh, tear, and wring of the fist was earned as she stormed through this production with harrowing rage as though she were cornered by the entire world. She is supported by the handsome (and ripped) Kieran Campion whose nervous energy and adorable pluck matches Jan's intensity. Their scenes together are pretty damn riveting. Unfortch they are chopped up by erroneous scenes about a pair of the dead student's peers having long rambling teenage philosophical conversations about you know- teen stuff. The poor young actors are doomed from the start as we are forced to go from Jan Maxwell weeping uncontrollably to lets play a game! It seemed like two separate plays and I longed to get back to Jan every time the kids popped up. But not to fear 2/3 of this production is hardcore Maxwell and for that, it's totally worth it.

Cherry Docs

I wish that I could believe Mark Zeisler, who plays Danny, a liberal Jewish lawyer appointed to defend Mike, a Neo-Nazi on trial for an act of violence that led to a man's death. The plot, you have to admit, is hard enough to accept. I want to believe, so that I can get behind the sort of moment when Danny, holding his anger in check, refuses to punch Mike (who welcomes the violence, the language he understands best): "If I start, I'm afraid I won't be able to stop." Mike nods and gets really close to Danny: "Now you know how I feel." But because Mr. Zeisler doesn't seem genuine about any of this, we never know how he feels. Luckily, I'd recommend Cherry Docs anyway, solely on the commanding performance from Maximilian Osinski (Pablo Schrieber, look out!): I dare you not to shed a tear at his redemptive journey, going from smug and manipulative to conflicted and worried, and then from forceful denial to apologetic grief. As for David Gow's script and direction -- too much seems forced, especially the tidy final ten minutes; he would do well to listen to his characters.

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UNCENSORED

Not a review, just heartfelt praise for the MCC Theater Youth Company (ah, memories). Their latest group piece, "Uncensored," combines spoken word with monologues and ensemble pieces, all of which are about the empowerment of these teenagers. Here's freedom of speech, whether it's about "skinny jeans" (trivial to some, crucial to others), the latest gossip on "Gossip Girl" or even, with a nod to the audience, where exactly the denouement is supposed to go, and what a play's supposed to be. (There's even a storybook presentation about the child-raping "muffin man.") "This is not a play," says one of the 26 actors on the stage. But it is: minds at play, and audiences engaging with them, and damned if there isn't enough clever splicing from the cast and director Stephen DiMenna to make the whole evening slide smoothly from segment to segment, even if the pieces themselves often crash up against one another.