Doubt

 

The current production of John Patrick Shanley's play Doubt (starring Amy Ryan, Liev Shreiber, Zoe Kazan, and Quincy Tyler Bernstine) is not as good as the amazing original production from 2005 (starring Cherry Jones, Brian F. O'Byrne, Heather Goldenhersh, and Adriane Lenox), but that's okay. This well-directed, well-acted, solid production does justice to the excellence of the play. 

Liev Schreiber, Amy Ryan
Photo: Joan Marcus

And an excellent play it is! The story of a high school principal (Sister Aloysius; Amy Ryan) in the 1960s suspecting a priest (Father Flynn; Liev Schreiber) of "interfering" with a 12-year-old African-American boy, Doubt expertly shows how perceptions of guilt and innocence differ among observers, even when exposed to the same evidence. Once Sister Aloysius begins suspecting Father Flynn, she perceives everything he says and does as proof of his guilt; it's a case study of confirmation bias. (However, the fact that she finds him guilty with insufficient evidence does not prove he is innocent!) 

Doubt also examines sexism in the church, old ideas versus new, and how values can clash even when people are acting in good faith (if, indeed, they are acting in good faith). 

Then there is the mother of the boy, who is vividly aware of the benefits--and costs--to her son of being in this school. She lives in a world where difficult, horribly pragmatic decisions sometimes need to be made, and she has the strength to make them. Her one scene, an extended discussion with Sister Aloysius about Father Flynn's treatment of her son, is complex, surprising, and in many ways the core of the show.

Amy Ryan clearly depicts Sister Aloysius's rigidity and lack of humor. I was disappointed not to see Tyne Daly, who had to drop out due to health problems, but the level at which Ryan is performing--with virtually no rehearsal--is impressive. Liev Shreiber is good as the priest, but I expect more than "good" from Liev Shreiber. His sermons are remarkably bloodless. Zoe Kazan does sweet ignorance beautifully; her innocent face works in her favor. Quincy Tyler Bernstine is effective as the mother, though I wish there had been more fire in the scene between her and Sister Aloysius.

The design elements are a bit odd. The scenery is attractive but the scenic designer (David Rockwell) is not kind to people sitting audience right, with a wall often in the way of a clear view. And the director (Scott Ellis) is no better: we had the Zoe Kazan's back for much of the show and were given only two brief opportunities to see Quincy Tyler's Bernstine's full face. I don't know if "cheating" (that is, subtly moving one's body over time to be better seen by the audience) is considered old-fashioned, but it surely would have been welcome. The costuming is effective, except that Father Flynn's clothing was a little too nice; did the pants of priests in the early 1960s really taper so perfectly? The lighting is beautiful, clean, and subtle. 

My feelings about Doubt have evolved over the years, as thousands of priests have been revealed as serial molesters. I was more open to the idea of Father Flynn being innocent in 2005. However, Doubt is so well-written that I am still not 100% sure what I think. 

Perhaps the most impressive thing about Doubt is that, under all of the ambiguity and thoughtfulness and compassion lies a brilliantly smooth structure. The play is economical and its 90 minutes seem to take half that time. I suspect, and hope, that Doubt will be done over and over again well into the future. It certainly deserves to be!

Wendy Caster

Bliss Street Releases Cast Album

 

 

While theater is an art form with a shelf life — sometimes a show outlives its closing. Such is the story with Bliss Street, an Off-Broadway show at Theater for the New City that played from April 27 to May 14, 2023, which just released its cast recording last week. The production looked at the New York 70’s rock and roll scene and celebrated Paul Sub’s Coventry, a 5,000 square-foot music venue once located on Bliss Street in Queens, and hosted such bands as Kiss, The Ramones, Blondie and the New York Dolls.

Using Abra Bigham’s book based on Rich Brotman and Charlie Sub's concept, the show interwove Paul’s club experience with his son Charlie’s, who grew up immersed within the music scene. Charlie also wrote the words and lyrics for Bliss Street. The original show included virtual scenery by Carlos Almonte of MotionBlur, offering the audience a glimpse of how Charlie remembered that world.

His band, Charlie Sub & Sound Dogs, is featured on the album, “Bliss Street: The New Era.” The release offers songs from the show that embrace the vibe of glam rock, mixing it with a contemporary feel.

The raucous music is feisty and fun but sometimes the beat seems stronger than the lyrics like in the number, “Built This House.” Still, there is much here to enjoy, such as “Coventry Tonight” with its simple piano intro and sweet duet recalling the venue’s significance.

Besides the album, Charlie keeps Bliss Street alive at Ethyl’s, his venue in Manhattan, which hosts a monthly show featuring Bliss Street music. You can hear the music of Bliss Street on the official YouTube channel.

This Is Not a Time of Peace

 

In Deb Margolin's new play, This Is Not a Time of Peace, directed by Jerry Heymann, Alina's father, Hillel, has become unstuck in time. He "travels" in memory (metaphorically? metaphysically? hallucinatorily?) between 2004, when he is an old man in assisted living, and 1950, when he was hounded by Joseph McCarthy for being a communist and  eventually blacklisted. Whether he actually was a communist is deliberately unclear. Also unclear is whether his perception of his 1950 reality is accurate. 

Alina tries to keep up with Hillel as he switches time periods, attempting to understand him and his history and also to discern the true story. Did the president really offer Hillel a seat in the cabinet? Which president? If Hillel was brought up before HUAC, why does there seem to be no record?

Charlotte Cohn as Alina
Photo by Steven Pisano

Alina has ambiguity in her own life as well. She feels detached from her amiable husband because she feels that he doesn't "see her," which, truly, he doesn't. She is also having an affair with a hunk who insists on having feelings for her, despite her attempts to limit their interactions to the physical. She has a daughter who doesn't appear in the play and seems to barely exist for her.

The title, This Is Not a Time of Peace, echos Joseph McCarthy's comment that, although the war was over, it was not really over: "This is not a period of peace." One of the main points of the play is that this comment remains apt, and maybe always has been. The 21st century has been calm in some places at some points, but everything is on the edge and on the verge. Global warming is referred to, and current politics underline the play. The sad truth is, not only is this not a time of peace, but due to human limitations, it never will be. And Alina recognizes that she is not exactly perfect herself, cheating on her husband and living a very human, messy life.

Unfortunately, these ideas and story lines don't cohere as much as they might, and the play is both too long and lacking clarity. The parallels between time periods end up more pedantic than felt. Certainly less of Joseph McCarthy and more of Alina's reality would provide a better balance. And the open monologue, which seems to go on forever, does not justify its length in terms of content or writing. Also, it was annoying that Alina does this long monologue in short lingerie, which is distracting and pointless.

For me, Charlotte Cohn was not effective as Alina. She has received rave reviews from other critics, and I suppose it's possible I just saw an off night. But the performance I saw lacked a certain level of humanity and warmth and ended up being a barrage of words. The rest of the cast--Simon Feil, Richard Hollis, Ken King, Frank Licato, Steven Rattazzi, and Roger Hendricks Simon--were quite effective, and there were moments with actual scenes that reached a level of emotion that I wish had existed throughout the play.

After all this, Alina's final monologue, considerably shorter than her opening monologue, is a lovely, moving, delicately written coda that left me wishing that the whole play had been at that level, in that voice.

Wendy Caster

I Love You So Much I Could Die

The title I Love You So Much I Could Die hints at a deeply emotional, even fervid, show. 

Nope.

For reasons that remain obscure to me, I Love You So Much I Could Die extends a great deal of effort to eliminate emotion, connection, and communication from its characteristics. The show consists of monologues interspersed with songs. The words are intoned by a generic male computer voice. The singing is performed by the author, Mona Pirnot, sitting at a desk with her back to the audience. There is little in the way of visual expression. I ended up watching the cursor on Pirnot's computer move in tandem with the sentences of the monologues, just to have something to do. 

In my eyes, theatre is about communication. I even have reservations about one-person shows, because I want dialogue and human interactions. I Love You So Much I Could Die pretty much removes any reason to be in a theatre. 

Wendy Caster

Titanic: The Musical

Last weekend, the Program in Vocal Performance at NYU Steinhardt presented a musically gorgeous production of Titanic: The Musical. The NYU Broadway Orchestra, led by Ted Sperling and featuring over 30 musicians, performed the original Jonathan Tunick orchestrations with emotion, clarity, and verve. The large cast featured fabulous singer after fabulous singer. It was an aurally glorious experience.

I already have my ticket for the Encores! version of Titanic later this year. It will likely offer a more consistent level of acting and better costumes and lighting. But it will not be better sung or played.

Wendy Caster

Here's to the Ladies Review on Talkin' Broadway

I reviewed Here's to the Ladies over at Talkin' Broadway:

Eddie Shapiro's three books of long-form interviews with musical theatre performers provide a unique, entertaining look at the reality of being a working (or work-hunting) musical actor, mostly on Broadway but also Off-Broadway and regionally. His first, Nothing Like a Dame, focuses mostly on big stars/legends, such as Angela Lansbury, Patti LuPone, and Bebe Neuwirth. His second, Wonderful Guy, focuses on a range of male actors such as Ben Vereen, Norm Lewis, and Jonathan Groff. And now he presents Here's to the Ladies: Conversations with More of the Great Women of Musical Theater, including Kelli O'Hara, Charlotte D'Amboise, and Judy Kuhn. All three books are wonderful.

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