Why Torture Is Wrong, and the People Who Love Them

Photo: Joan Marcus

(Some spoilers) This show is vintage Christopher Durang: weird, funny, disconcerting, occasionally arbritrary, occasionally meaningful, edgy, and, well, uneven. I personally had trouble getting into it because much of the first act focuses on a woman being seriously threatened, at length, by a dangerous and crazy man, which is not my idea of a comedy. I understand why Durang set up the play the way he did, but I wish he hadn't. He could have written just as strong a piece--possibly even stronger--without treating as humorous the possibility that the man had drugged the woman and then had sex with her without her consent. This is not a political or theoretical objection--it's pragmatic. First, the set-up kept me and at least some other people at arm's length from the play. Second, the overall story would have been more effective if the man was nice or at least nice-ish. By the time the show ended, however, Durang had won me over, and I ultimately enjoyed the mix of insanity, political commentary, and wistfulness. The cast and direction were effective, and special mention must be made of David Korins' multifaceted, attractive carousel of a set.

Table Manners

Photo: Manuel Harlan

Many--most--of the audience members at Table Manners laughed and laughed. I chuckled a couple of times. The humor was dated and predictable, and the performances were only okay (which for an original English cast is like Fred Astaire dancing a waltz and being only okay). Doing the show in the round didn't help; at any given moment, a significant percentage of the audience was missing something important. Also, a lot of things are thrown in this show, and there's no upstage to aim at. A piece of broken plate flew into the audience. A handful of people got splashed with soup. And a fairly large tin can came close to hitting someone. On top of a mediocre show, this is not my idea of a good time.

Ruined

photo: Liz Lauren

I went back to Ruined a second time, just a few days after the play won this year's Pulitzer for Drama. I don't have anything more to say that I haven't already when I rave reviewed it for Theatermania a couple of months ago except that a) it was no less riveting and devastating this second time, b) it is an essential must-see for any serious playgoer but especially those who know the rare value of theatre that both engrosses and enlightens and c) the production is set to close on May 17th. Please don't miss it.

Exit Cuckoo

Reviewed for Theatermania.

Why Torture Is Wrong (And The People Who Love Them)

photo: Joan Marcus

Christopher Durang's latest absurd comedy (at The Public) gets off to a bang-up start as middle-class Felicity (Laura Benanti) wakes up next to a volatile stranger (Amir Arison) who she definitely married the night before and who may or may not be a Middle Eastern terrorist. Felicity's parents are no use when she takes her husband home hoping they'll help shake him off: Mom (Kristine Nielsen) prattles on continually about the theatre (mostly Wicked; Durang uses that show the way that playwrights used to use Cats, as evidence of theatre's cultural bankruptcy) and far-right-wing Dad (Richard Poe) has his new son-in-law bound and gagged for interrogation almost as quickly as you can say The Patriot Act. The play is snarky and funny for a good while, well-served by Nicholas Martin's direction which keeps a brisk pace and a unifying cartoon tone, and the principal cast is excellent. (Benanti, familiar from musicals, slips into her straight role amid trademark Durang lunacy with ease and skill, and Nielsen's schtick is perfect for this material, a real scream) But eventually the stones that Durang throws at American paranoia and extremism turn to softballs: Dad's right wing conspirators, a man who speaks in Looney Tunes impersonations and a woman whose panties keep falling to her ankles, aren't especially inspired creations and lack satiric sting.

Mary Stuart

photo: Joan Marcus

Peter Oswald's adaptation of Shiller's semi-fictionalized history play concerning Queen Elizabeth and Mary Queen of Scots is snappy and sharp, as is this thoroughly engrossing production (imported from Donmar Warehouse) in which the two rival Queens wear period dress while the men of the court are costumed in modern suits. The theatrically striking anachronism serves to emphasize the commonality between the women, one imprisoned and awaiting death while the other rules and sits in indecisive judgment, while it also underlines the continued relevancy of the play's political intrigue. Except for an on-stage rainstorm the settings are simple and spartan - not much more than a bench, a bed and a desk - but the artful spareness is purposeful and effective, scaling the action on stage as larger than life. The supporting players are each excellent - could one even hope for a stronger Earl of Shrewsbury than Brian Murray, or a more believably slippery Earl of Leicester than John Benjamin Hickey? - but as in any production of this play it's the two lead actresses who most matter. Harriet Walter is astonishing as Elizabeth, able to play layers under layers beneath an often strategic exterior, while Janet McTeer, who as Mary must move over the course of the play from desperation to deep spiritual serenity, is nothing short of spellbinding. It's a thrilling, captivating performance.