Goodbye Cruel World

photo: Jim Baldassare

Poor unemployed Semyon (Paco Tolson) has never been so popular as when he decides to shoot himself. Suddenly several strata of Russian society are beating down his door to lay claim as the inspiration for his upcoming suicide. That's about the gist of this slice of dark (often existential) humor adapted from Nikolai Erdman's The Suicide by director Robert Ross Parker. The original play had enough political criticism to get its playwright banished to Siberia during Stalin's reign and you can certainly still see why, but as presented here the tone is more zany than heavy - one can greatly enjoy the production either for the intelligent sting of its text, for the contagious joy with which this distinct brand of comedy is put over by a game cast of 6, or (preferably) for both at the same time. Cast standout: William Jackson Harper, an actor I've admired in several dramas who here displays dead-on comic timing.

Present Laughter

photo: T. Charles Erickson

In The Roundabout's ill-judged revival you see plenty of what you never should in Noel Coward: sweat and effort. As the vainglorious stage actor at the center of the comedy, Victor Garber looks every inch the distinguished part from opera slippers to plush smoking jacket but he surprisingly seems to lack the larger-than-life size that's needed to drive the show. To compensate he pushes hard, often with fatal flop-sweat results. The production doesn't do him many favors, thanks to direction that doesn't find the needed rhythm and a supporting cast that misses the mark. Brooks Ashmanskas, usually a dependably spot-on performer, gives a hyperactive performance that people are talking about for the wrong reasons: he's so far out of the style of the piece that the laughs he mugs for work actively against the play. I watched most of his performance through two fingers. A couple of solid performances, from Harriet Harris (delicious as the actor's cynical secretary) and Lisa Banes (exactly in the style of the piece as the wise, sharp-witted ex-wife) are the evening's mitigating pleasures.

Time Stands Still

photo: Joan Marcus

In Time Stands Still, an expertly crafted drama of issues by Donald Margulies, Laura Linney gives the kind of performance about which theatre lovers dream: slow-boiling, committed, and exactingly realized. She is Sarah, a passionate photojournalist whose last assignment (covering the war) left her maimed but still invigorated. This dismays her longtime lover James (Brian d'Arcy James, excellent), a writer who is ready to get out of the combat zone and settle down in Brooklyn. Margulies wisely allows this conflict to play out leisurely through the first act, with the characters able to put all their feelings on the proverbial table. It makes for arresting theatre, and Linney and James more than convince as a couple whose love for each other might not be as strong as their professional drive. Their experience is mirrored in the play's second couple: Richard (Eric Bogosian, terrific in his long-awaited Broadway debut), Sarah's editor and former lover; and Mandy (a phenomenal Alicia Silverstone), his somewhat mindless young wife. Despite Sarah's manufactured contempt for them, you cannot help but notice James longing for a relationship like theirs. This well-crafted realization, along with many other factors, make this the first must-see new play of 2010.

Time Stands Still

Donald Margulies' intriguing Time Stands Still (nicely directed by Daniel Sullivan) focuses on Sarah, a photographer who was almost killed by a roadside bomb; Laura Linney plays Sarah with her usual intelligence, sensitivity, and subtlety. While taking care of Sarah, James, her long-time partner in life and work (well-played by Brian d'Arcy James), continues to navigate his own recovery from post-traumatic stress disorder. To James, the universe has given the couple a sign that it's time to retire from covering wars. To Sarah, being injured is an interruption, not an end. Is James too ready to compromise or is Sarah an adrenaline junky? Or both? Their close friend and editor, Richard (Eric Bogosian), joyously involved with a much younger woman (the wry Alicia Silverstone), just wants his friends to be safe and as happy as he is--but not at the price of compromising his own values. Touching on themes of loyalty, leading a meaningful life, and what people owe each other, both across countries and in intimate relationships, Time Stands Still nicely contrasts big-picture ideas with the quotidian details in the life of a troubled couple.

A View From The Bridge

photo: Joan Marcus

In Arthur Miller's oft-revived drama, which puts a Greek tragedy in an Italian-American household in Red Hook circa 1955, we watch a longshoreman (Liev Schreiber) tortured by unfulfilled desire when the niece (Scarlett Johannson) he raised as a daughter prepares to leave the nest. This production isn't likely to make anyone initially confuse him with a loving, overprotective surrogate parent - Schreiber plays the character like he has something to be ashamed of from the get-go. His clenched-fist performance goes too far in that direction to permit much identification with him - that mutes the tragedy somewhat, but compensates with a distinct ferocity. Johansson is terrific - she disappears into the character so easily and achieves her effects so simply that she seems effortless. Jessica Hecht, as the longshoreman's long-suffering wife, is best of all. She renders the character's no-nonsense clarity and inner strength without putting her on a cross.

The Picture of Dorian Gray

photo: Ofer Zimdni

Oscar Wilde's story, of a beautiful young man who trades his soul for eternal youth and the hedonistic pleasures it offers, has too much wit to ever get old. Still, it's a disappointment that this slow-going production, adapted by Daniel Mitura, drains the source material of its vicarious fun and its sexual kick. It plays like a synopsis, with the events of the book lined up in order without the passion that would shape them into a compelling narrative. As Dorian Gray, the young innocent whose portrait ages while he remains young and grows increasingly soulless, Will Petre has some terrific moments (especially later in the play) despite being physically wrong for the role. He's a grown-up hunk, taller than the rest of the cast - not ideal for a character who needs to appear far more youthful than the men who are enthralled by him. The director (Henning Hegland) makes a couple of striking choices - there's an effective and creative scene transition which ages a couple of the characters - but too many moments between the actors have been left thin and underexplored. The show's most successful performance is by Vayu O'Donnell as cynical affected Henry; the actor keeps you aware that even the character's most inhumanly cold cruelties are rooted in very human jealousy. Kaolin Bass registers vividly in one of the show's smallest roles.