Jerusalem

As a playwright, Jez Butterworth seems to be keenly interested in the implied. The words that he puts in his characters' mouths are often meant to signify something that's three steps removed from what was actually said. This worked to varying degrees in Butterworth's 2007 play Parlour Song, in which a man tries to understand why his wife begins stealing everyday items from their home and storing them in their shed. It works less well in his newest play, Jerusalem, which is currently bowing on Broadway after a successful London run in 2009. The difference here is that the former play was a Pinteresque chamber drama; this new work is an overstuffed epic in the vein of O'Neill or August Wilson. The extreme ambiguity of much of the language and the banality of the actual work itself leave the audience wondering what they've spent three hours watching was supposed to mean.

On the morning of St. George's Day, "Rooster" Johnny Byron (Mark Rylance) is being evicted from his home. The term "home," in the literal sense, could be an exaggeration--he has been squatting in the forest that surrounds the village of Flintock for twenty-nine years, surviving on a steady diet of drugs, booze and debauchery. Now that a new development of mini-mansions has been erected in spitting distance from Rooster's lean-to, the borough has finally taken action to remove him from his bacchanalian post. The actual play revolves around the hours leading up to the eviction, where he and his cohorts (performed by acclaimed British actor Mackenzie Crook and Tony-winner John Gallagher Jr, among others) continue to live life their own way, with the prospect of dire consequences always looming.

The play's title is taken from William Blake's 1804 poem "And did those feet in ancient time," which was set to music during World War I and is colloquially known as "The Jerusalem Hymn." According to a program note from director Ian Rickson, this hymn holds strong significance to the English people, and "has been claimed both by workers' groups and The Conservative Party." Therefore, it holds meaning to every English citizen, no matter how they identify themselves. Butterworth's play seems to represent this--the McMansions that force Rooster's eviction obviously stand in for the "dark Satanic mills" that Blake used to represent the Industrial Revolution, while the conservative village people who want to cut Rooster loose believe that they are doing so in order to "build Jerusalem / In England's green and pleasant land." Unfortunately, neither makes a particularly compelling case.

It doesn't help that Rooster is one of the most unsympathetic characters in recent memory. Much like another "lovable" character in an acclaimed British play--Hector, the handsy schoolmaster in Alan Bennett's worthless History Boys--the audience is supposed to be transfixed and beguiled by a waster who benefits from manipulation and the lowered expectations of others. Rooster provides drugs and has sex with teenagers, while neglecting his own six-year-old son (who appears briefly, accompanied by his mother, played by the fine Irish actress Geraldine Hughes). It doesn't help that Rylance's performance is Master Thespian to the hilt--which seems to be what we've come to expect from this particular actor. The halting speech, the kinetic movements, the constantly shifting voice modulation...it's all there. The audience I attended with leapt to their feet at curtain; I simply groaned.

I am not the ideal customer for this play. As noted, I'm not the hugest fan of Rylance's bag of tricks, nor am I an Anglophile. I'd never heard of St. George's Day, and despite holding a master's degree in poetry, my only experience with William Blake was in a poetry survey my freshman year of college. Still, I cannot imagine why so many people have fallen over themselves to rave about a play that is both overstuffed and undercooked.

I also want to note the trouble I had hearing most of the cast throughout the performance. Rylance has stated in interviews that he is passionate performing without amplification; this is a noble goal, but it only works if every member of the cast is able to achieve sustained projection that feels natural. When I saw Rylance in La Bete six months ago--in the same theatre, from roughly the same seat--I had no problem hearing him or any of the cast. Yesterday, the company ranged from consistently audible (Rylance, Hughes, Alan David) to patchy (Gallagher, Max Baker) to completely inaudible throughout (Crook, Molly Ranson, Aimee-Ffion Edwards). Projection is a hallmark of the theatre, where the use of body microphones has only been standard for roughly twenty years. If you cannot project, you shouldn't be on stage.


(Seen at the matinee performance on June 8. TDF tickets; Orchestra M4).

You Make Me Feel So Young: Barbara Cook at Feinstein's

Photo: Mike Martin

Barbara Cook. What do you think of when you hear that name? A pure soprano? Glitter and Be Gay? The queen of cabaret singers? The Music Man? Sondheim? An unparalleled interpreter of the American Songbook? Delightful raconteur? All of the above?

One phrase I never would have thought of is jazz singer! Until last night.

Cook's new show, You Make Me Feel So Young, at Feinstein's through June 18, includes 13 songs she has never sung before, along with some familiar favorites. Cook pointed out that 13 songs are a lot to learn and asked that we "be kind." But no kindness was necessary. Aside from a couple of messed-up lyrics, which she made charming, Cook was comfortable, assured, and, oh yeah, brilliant. She went new places (new to me at least), including extended scatting and surprising jazz phrasing.

Her set ranged from the slow, thoughtful, and heartfelt to swinging. In the first category were "I've Grown Accustomed to His Face," sung with piano only, and a yearning "I've Got You Under My Skin" with a gorgeous clarinet-centered arrangement by Cook and her music director, Lee Musiker. On the other end of the spectrum was a delightful, jazzy "The Frim Fram Sauce" and a wry "Wait 'Til You're Sixty-Five," sung with amused recognition that, for Cook, 65 was some time ago. Other highlights included "You Make Me Feel So Young," "What Did I Have That I Don't Have?", and "Live Alone and Like It."

As an added bonus, Cook's patter is great fun. She knows how to tell a story, and she has  funny stories to tell. I particularly enjoyed her tale of how she discovered the song "Love Is Good For Anything That Ails You." I'll only say that it includes the phrase "cat house."

And Cook's band--Lee Musiker on piano, Warren Odze on percussion, Jay Leonhart on bass, and Steve Kenyon on woodwinds--is fabulous.

Were there some missteps? One or two. "When I Look Into Your Eyes" was less than compelling, and I flat out dislike the song, "I'm a Fool to Want You."

But, who cares? It's Barbara Cook, still challenging herself, still surprising, always wonderful.

(press tix, nice seats behind the piano)

The Addams Family

Okay, the critics were right, The Addams Family is a total mess. Its creators were clearly so caught up in devising their own unique blend of extra-schticky vaudeville, self-referential pomo show, ‘80s mega-musical and Golden Age-throwback that they forgot to write a coherent book, develop much in the way of approachable characters, bother composing memorable songs, or devising lyrics that made even a little bit of sense. The show trades in groan-inducing jokes and double-entendres, not-especially-dazzling choreography, a few vaguely impressive belters, and the familiarity of the characters, who are drawn less from the classic comic strip than from the somewhat less-classic TV show. So, you know, not the greatest musical in the world, even as lowbrow standards go.

But you know what? A few hours of especially dumb humor can be awesome if you’re in the right mood for it. And in this case, I was, for a whole number of reasons, none of which involved taking drugs or drinking copious amounts of booze before curtain-time. Having read all the terrible reviews over a year ago, I had particularly low expectations. I paid less than forty bucks per ticket (thanks, as always, TDF!), and went on a pleasant Sunday afternoon with two very good friends and our three very good, delightfully enthusiastic eight-year-old kids, at least one of whom has been asking repeatedly to see the show since it opened. Labor of love, I figured. Plus, I like Bebe Neuwirth, who I suspect is bionic, and Roger Rees, who seems here to be having an absolute blast playing Nathan Lane as Gomez Addams. Plus, the very sight of the brilliantly weird Jackie Hoffman always makes me guffaw like an idiot.

But wait! I’ll admit to even more: Sometimes, I like to put my avowed snobbishness aside long enough to revel in a few astoundingly stupid dick-jokes or, it turns out, to giggle uncontrollably at songs about sexing up a giant squid. Back in the 1990s, I got sick to death of all the stage gimmickry that was in vogue then, but I nevertheless still rather enjoy the occasional trick involving puppets, black lights, hydraulic lifts and trap-doors. The Addams Family, of course, offers up all this stuff, and then some: The stage of the Lunt-Fontanne is swathed by a huge, red velvet curtain that has its own choreography, and that might well be worth the price of admission all by itself.

The upshot? Our kids were mesmerized, and as tickled by the puerile humor as I was (well, they totally dug all the poop jokes; the bluer ones soared mercifully over their heads). And I enjoyed myself, too. Would I have felt the same way had I paid top-dollar for this show, or seen it with comparatively humorless grownups, or less scatology-obsessed children? Hells no. Was it Great—or even Remotely Good—Art? Double hells no. But as it was, I have no regrets—nor am I as embarrassed as I thought I’d be to admit that I came away rather charmed by this stone-soup mess of a musical.

Orpheus & Euridice

Ricky Ian Gordon's gorgeous chamber piece, Orpheus & Euridice, is being given an excellent production by The Orpheus Project and Collaborative Stages through June 12th. If luscious song cycles with a glorious sound somewhere between musical theatre and opera are your cup of tea, don't miss this!

Gordon's 55-minute Orpheus & Euridice features three performers: a clarinet player as Orpheus, a soprano as Euridice, and a pianist. In this production, husband and wife Ryan Dudenbostel and Heather Dudenbostel play the leads. While not every real couple has onstage chemistry, the Dudenbostels do, much to the benefit of the piece. Heather D. sings Euridice beautifully (though she is occasionally shrill), and her acting is simple and effective. Ryan D. dances through his role, first as a charming sprite and later as a mournful force of nature. His sheer likeability adds a great deal to his performance, and his ability to act while playing the clarinet is impressive. Pianist Jad Bernardo provides top-notch support with his wonderful, sensitive playing. The three performers have melded into a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts, and its parts are damned good to start with!

Stephen Sondheim is on record as saying that too many reviewers write about music without really knowing much about music. I have to plead guilty to this charge. I am sure there is more to be said about Orpheus & Euridice by people who have the knowledge and vocabulary. Nevertheless, I remain confident that this is an outstanding production of an outstanding piece.

(I do wish I knew whether the lack of clarity of the lyrics is Heather D.'s fault or just the inevitable result of her needing to hit those operatic notes. Either way, I recommend that you read the lyrics provided in the program before the show starts.)

The piece is smartly directed by Brian Letchworth. Zhuojie Chen's projections add an extra dimension both visually and emotionally. And compliments also to graphic designer Patrick Sullivan for his attractive and wry graphic (shown here).

(Press ticket, third row on the aisle.)

Panel June 9 at 4:30: The Benefit of Bloggers

I'm very pleased to announce that June 9th I will be part of a panel on theatre blogging. I hope you can come! (It's free. More info below.)

The panel is part of the Planet Connections Theatre Festivity, "New York’s premiere eco-friendly/socially-conscious theatre festival." The Festivity brings together "like-minded individuals striving to create professional, meaningful theatre, while supporting organizations that give back to the community at large."

The panel will discuss such topics as

• The role of the theatre blogger/reviewer
• The importance of independent blogs/voices in the theatre review scene today
• Why theatre bloggers do what they do
• Why theatre bloggers matter for indie theatre
• The difference between a theatre blog review and a traditional newspaper/magazine review
• The future of the theatre blog

Other participants will include Jody Christopherson, New York Theatre Review; Byrne Harrison, Stage Buzz; and Adam Rothenberg,  adaumbellesquest. The panel will be moderated by Molly Marinik, Theatre Is Easy.

Details:

Thursday, June 9th, 4:30 pm

The Robert Moss Theatre, 440 Studios

440 Lafayette Street

New York, NY 10003-6919

For further information, go to planetconnections.org/benefit-of-bloggers-panel.

I hope you can make it!

By the Way, Meet Vera Stark

I saw Lynn Nottage's new play this afternoon--ironically, two years to the day after I first saw her Pulitzer-Prize winning Ruined. In those two years, rarely a day has passed when I haven't considered the power of that play. Nottage is a writer of rare talent and clarity; her language is often simple and restrained, and the audience member is keenly aware that each word she puts in her character's mouth has been carefully considered. By the Way, Meet Vera Stark is easily the best American play I've seen in over a year, and Jo Bonney's fast-paced, attractive production is its perfect compliment. It also benefits from an unforgettable, beautifully realized performance from Sanaa Lathan in the title role; were this production in a Broadway house, the Tony would be hers in a walk. (This fine actress only appears in New York about once a decade; Ms. Lathan, please make your appearances more regular!) The entire cast is wonderful, but special mention goes to Kimberly Hebert Gregory, at once hilarious (a sample line: "He won't send you out unless you give him a blow job and twenty-five dollars...and I'm not about to give him twenty-five dollars!") and keenly aware that 1930s Hollywood only sees her as a representative of the mammy archetype.

($34 youth tickets; E104. Seen at the matinee on 6/4/11)