Enron

Enron is a tale told by intelligent people, full of sound and fury, and signifying not as much as it should. A somewhat-interesting rehash of the rise and fall of the energy company Enron, the show fails to find an unusual or particularly insightful point of view, nor does it plumb the psychology of the people involved or say anything new about their hubris. What Enron does have is shtick: colored lights, chorus numbers, flashing video, and guys with dinosaur masks. The shtick is entertaining, although it does not disguise the thinness of the play itself. The cast strives valiantly, and successfully, to put on a good show; Norbert Leo Butz is particularly good as Jeffrey Skilling. Marin Mazzie is sinfully underutilized.

American Idiot

photo: Paul Kolnik

Green Day's niche and the secret to their cross-generational appeal is that their songs combine the brash anger of long-passe punk rock with insanely catchy pop melodies: their righteous anger is radio-ready enough for the bubble gum set to sing along with it. The distinction of their smash hit album American Idiot was in its timing: the band was raising a fist at knee-jerk post 9/11 patriotism just as mainstream youth were ready to brave a turn to the left. It's a huge disappointment then that the same-named musical based on the album doesn't honor this and lacks, except in the most generic way, political content. More like Movin' Out than Hair, but far less satisfying than either, the show amounts to a numbing 90 minute music video on stage. The cast is uniformly sensational, and the show's mix of performance and high-tech imagery brings to Broadway a brand of razzle-dazzle that concertgoers have been used to for decades. (The staging for "Wake Me Up When September Ends", in which the ensemble move while on their backs as if falling, reminded me of one of the dance ensemble pieces in David Bowie's Glass Spider tour, circa 1987). But since the story (of three buds - one who goes to war, one who stays home glued to the TV, and one who goes to the city and promptly gets hooked on heroin) is a well-worn cliche, and the show doesn't rally around any great theme besides "everything sucks", American Idiot succeeds only as spectacle.

The Aliens

Reviewed for Theatermania.

Lend Me a Tenor

photo: Joan Marcus

Stanley Tucci's uproarious new production of Ken Ludwig's 1989 farce manages to do the impossible: it turns a stuffy, mildly funny period piece into a laugh-a-minute romp. Credit the cast, which is top-to-bottom brilliant: it's hard to imagine how an ensemble who universally perfect was assembled in one production. Justin Bartha proves that his on-screen comedic skills translate perfectly onto the stage; his mealy-mouthed Max is a perfect nebbish, simultaneously lovable and embarrassing. Tony Shaloub's Saunders is an ulcer in a tux--as it should be--and Anthony Lapaglia turns the not particularly well-written role of star tenor Tito Merilli into a master class. The stage is owned, however, by the incomparable Jan Maxwell, who milks every laugh out of the minute role of Merilli's wife. It's hard to imagine a more hilarious ten minutes in New York than she and Lapaglia's glottal attack on each other. Highly recommended.

Sondheim on Sondheim

Photo: Joan Marcus

I wouldn't have thought that a show called Sondheim on Sondheim could be boring, but despite its generous selection of songs, this exploration of the great man's music is remarkably bland. The main problem is that two of the three people listed over the title don't have the interpretive skills to do justice to the songs they sing (hint: neither of them is Barbara Cook). The five other performers range from blah to excellent, but even the better ones are often stymied by overdone direction and uncomfortable staging. For example, the fluid "Opening Doors" is here completely fractured as the performers are made to repeatedly, pointlessly, march up and down a revolving set of slippery stairs. (One performer, wearing heels, looked scared for her life--or at least her ankles--every time she had to take those stairs.) Sondheim on Sondheim comes across as a not-particularly-good evening of one of the variety shows that used to be on TV a million years ago, with some nice singing but often painful "witty banter." Other than occasional moments of excellence (mostly when Cook is on stage), the show's one redeeming feature is the extensive footage of Sondheim talking about his life and his work. Note: I saw this at a preview and it's possible that the show has been improved since then. (I certainly hope so.)

Short Takes: The Full-Disclosure Edition

The very funny Miracle on South Division Street, currently playing at the Seven Angels Theatre in Waterbury, Conn, focuses on the Nowaks, a mother and three adult child who believe that their family has been specially blessed. When certain information comes to light, the Nowaks must reconsider their definitions of family, identity, and miracles. This entertaining, touching, thought-provoking show was written by Tom Dudzick, author of Over the Tavern, Don't Talk to the Actors, and other wonderful plays. (Full disclosure: Tom is my brother-in-law.)

Last weekend, In the Light Theatre presented Adam Bock's relationship comedy, Swimming in the Shallows, in which Bock democratically demonstrates that gay, lesbian, and heterosexual couples all have their challenges and insanities and that most people are all just looking for meaning and love. Swimming in the Shallows is wry and much more surprising than my description would make you think (a shark figures prominently). As smoothly directed by Douglas Hall and well-performed by Laura DiCerto, Michael Edmund, Kathryn Gerhardt, Thomas Gibbons, Lisa Riegel, and Tony Travostino, Swimming in the Shallows was a delightful 90 or so minutes, and I wish the run had been longer than one week. This was the second In the Light Theatre production I've seen, and I look forward to the third. (Full disclosure: Kathy Gerhardt is my friend and Doug Hall directed the short film Second Glance, for which I wrote the screenplay.)