A View From the Bridge

Photo: Joan Marcus

Arthur Miller's A View From the Bridge, a story of love, obsession, and betrayal, has many flaws. Miller hammers in his themes again and again and neglects to convince us that protagonist Eddie Carbone is a good man, worth caring about in the first place. Also, the device of the lawyer telling us the story is clunky. But the current production, directed by Gregory Mosher, is so gripping that the flaws fade into the background. Liev Shreiber's Eddie Carbone is willfully blind to his own behavior and petulant and hurt when others judge him. His wife can see what is going on all too well, and the depth and searing reality of Jessica Hecht's performance does much to make this production the success it is. Scarlett Johansson, unfortunately, is not in a league with the other two, and while she doesn't hurt the show much, she doesn't contribute much either.

[title of show] (Boston)

Photo: Todd H. Page

Happily, the New England premiere of this 2008 Broadway musical comedy has two gifted performers at its center. Jordan Ahnquist and Joe Lanza furrow and shimmy their way through a lighthearted yet soulful dramatization of friendship and the creative process, with agility, panache, and musicality. Both have the ability to command the stage without hamming (though Mr. Lanza is a more than credible ham when he wants to be). The show itself feels a little pudgy around the middle, and there are a few vocal issues, but overall this production is a delightful evening of theater, with loads of energy, sprightly staging by director Paul Daigneault, and smart and boisterous choreography by David Connolly. Read the full review.

Present Laughter

photo: Joan Marcus

More than any other playwright save perhaps Shakespeare, the works of Noel Coward need to be executed precisely in order to be fully enjoyed. Largely plotless and populated with characters so preening and entitled that they're liable to make your skin crawl, productions of his comedies of manners rely heavily on actors who understand the cadences of his language and directors skilled enough to let the humor come from a solid reading of the text, rather than a pure reliance on pratfalls and slamming doors. Unfortunately, Roundabout Theatre Company's new production of Present Laughter (first seen at Boston's Huntington Theatre in 2007) is a misfire in nearly every conceivable way. Victor Garber, who is usually drier than Bombay Sapphire, is oddly frenetic as Garry Essendine, a stage actor and London playboy on the cusp of realizing that his youth is behind him. He intones his lines as if performing in a Shakespearean tragedy, while offering no feeling for either the wit or the remorse in the text. This approach feels out of place in Nicholas Martin's slick physical production, which would appear to call for a most straightforward rending of Essendine's post-midlife crisis. The supporting cast offers Garber no real support: From Brooks Ashmankas' embarrassing and anachronistic young playwright to the ingratiating Lisa Banes and Pamela Jane Gray as the women in Essendine's life, each performer seems to be overacting in their own terrible play. Only Harriet Harris' loyal secretary manages to delight, but it isn't enough. Present Laughter is an arduous evening with nary a laugh to be had.

The Man In Room 306

photo: Pier Baccaro

In this pedestrian solo one-act, Craig Allen Edwards plays Martin Luther King Jr. om the eve of the civil rights leader's assassination, holed up in his Memphis motel room and plagued by doubts. The portrait of King as written is not especially convincing - there's no trace of the talented strategist we know from movies like Boycott and the play The Conscientious Objector - and the playwrighting is labored: there's a limit to how often we want to sit still for passages that begin with a variation of "I remember when such and such happened". If King's remembrances have been shaped toward a purpose, it's one that attempts to remove the hero's halo and humanize him. But apart from a few stretches about King's relationship with his father, the material isn't intimate enough for the task. Edwards delivers most of the play's lines as if he's playing to a balcony that doesn't exist.

The Second Time Around

The amazing Tyne Daly is appearing through January 30th at Feinstein's at Loews Regency in a cabaret act she has named The Second Time Around (although, interestingly, she does not sing the song of that name). She opens the evening with a cleverly self-referential rewrite of "The Hostess With the Mostes' on the Ball," then presents an unusual and satisfying array of songs, including a lovely a capella mid-13th-century air called "O Waly, Waly"; a poignant medley combining "Sonny Boy" and "Ain't No Sunshine"; a sweet and funny "Adelaide's Lament"; and a wonderful version of "Stardust" in French. Her voice is not the best in the world, but it is pleasing, and her acting, if not the best in the world, is in the top 1% of the top 1% of the top 1%. She seems incapable of doing anything false or phony; even her most potentially cliche moments--a joke about singing flat, a dramatic long pause--lose their "used" feeling because of her honesty, subtlety, and commitment. And her diction is perfect. Daly's soft-spoken patter is charming, and she has the wisdom to surround herself with a top-notch quintet (piano, cello, bass, winds, and drums). My favorite moments were her kick-ass bluesy rendition of "Send Me to the 'Lectric Chair" (lyrics by Bessie Smith), with wonderful work by the band, and her medley of three songs from the Jerry Herman musical Dear World. The latter had the feeling almost of an audition, and I hope that some producer or other or the people at Encores! make sure she gets to star in that show--she'd nail it and then some. (By the way, the generally expensive Feinstein's has instituted a limited-availability $40 ticket with no minimum, putting it in reach of a larger audience.)

Beautiful Girls

Marin Mazzie

A revue of songs about women, written by Stephen Sondheim and sung by Marin Mazzie, Donna McKechnie, Jenn Colella, and Zoe Caldwell--what could possibly go wrong? Here's what: Lonnie Price could direct and write the "continuity." Price is a master of schlock, and he did not miss an opportunity to insert a stupid joke or an annoying bit of business. His decision to interrupt a lovely overture of songs from Follies (beautifully played by the Manhattan School of Music Chamber Sinfonia) with a truly embarrassing bit about three of the performers not knowing when the show started revealed immediately that he was more interested in displaying his (far-from-prodigious) imagination than the genius of Sondheim and the great talent of the performers. His two running gags--age jokes and bitchy competition between women--were not only dated and puerile, but they also were insulting to the intelligence and professionalism of the performers and really tiresome to the audience (not to mention arguably sexist). For the time he devoted to his directorial/writing schtick, there could have been three or four more songs--and we were there for the songs. Luckily, Price's tastelessness was not enough to completely ruin the evening. Any occasion to hear Sondheim's work with a full orchestra is a special occasion--after all, if you pay $135 to see A Little Night Music on Broadway you only get to hear a small band. Many of the performances were wonderful--for example, Donna McKechnie's "I'm Still Here," Jenn Colella's "Anyone Can Whistle," and Zoe Caldwell's "Liaisons." The highlight of the show was anything and everything by Marin Mazzie, from her angry "Not a Day Goes By" to her heartfelt "Every Day a Little Death" to her best-I've-ever-heard "Miller's Son." (An unexpected treat occurred when Mazzie's mike died and her voice rang out, unamplified, clear as a bell, gorgeous. I was sad when they fixed it.) Someone needs to write that woman a show!