December 28, 2024

The 10 Shows That Spoke to Me in 2024


It’s that time of year when people like me who are lucky enough to see lots of shows are supposed to look back and draw up a list of the ones we consider to have been the best. But that’s always been tricky for me because “best” is such a subjective word. I've always believed that art is a conversation between the people who make it and those of us who receive it. So below are 10 shows that may or may not have been the best that appeared on the boards over the last 12 months but are the ones that truly spoke to me.

DEAD OUTLAW: You might not think that a show—a musical no less—centered around a corpse could charm anyone but composer David Yazbek, book writer Itamar Moses and director David Cromer turned the macabre saga of a bumbling outlaw whose mummified remains ended up as a sideshow attraction into a nuanced commentary on today’s obsession with true crime stories and an even more valuable meditation on death itself. It also featured a terrific toe-tapping score and a you-gotta-see-it-to-believe-it performance by Andrew Durand as the titular cadaver that all left me grinning. A Broadway run was recently announced so there will be another chance for us all to enjoy this one in the spring.

GYPSY: I’ve seen three of the four previous revivals of this classic 1959 musical about a mother who pushes her kids into show business and I marveled each time at the music by Jule Styne, the lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and the book by Arthur Laurents but I’ve never been as moved as I was this time as I watched Audra McDonald play Madam Rose not as a monster or even a self-involved stage mom but as a woman simply desperate to make a way for her girls in an unforgiving world. There were moments when, although they don’t look at all alike, that I'd have sworn I was looking at the brave yet vulnerable single mother who raised me.  

THE HILLS OF CALIFORNIA: Jez Butterworth also beautifully rendered the ineffable bonds that bind mothers, daughters and sisters to one another in this drama about a working-class British mother whose ambitious dreams for her four daughters cause her to make a decision that will haunt all five of them for the next two decades. Two separate quartets of actors played the sisters as teens and as grown women and under Sam Mendes deft direction, they were all terrific, particularly so when the younger versions sang swing-era songs in perfect close harmony. It’s a real shame that this one closed last weekend, far earlier than it should have.

MARY JANE: Back in 2017, I was so knocked out by the New York Theatre Workshop production of Amy Herzog’s play about a single mother caring for a severely ill child that I was instantly dismissive when I heard that Rachel McAdams, a movie actress who hadn’t appeared on stage since high school, was bringing the play to Broadway this year. Boy, was I wrong.  McAdams turned in an exquisitely calibrated performance that drove home the sustaining power of love in even the most dire of circumstances. It won't be the same but an audio version has just been released on Audible.

MAYBE HAPPY ENDING: This surprisingly charming tale about two humanoid robots who fall in love features an unexpectedly jazzy score and a wholly original book by Will Aronson and Hue Park, witty performances by Darren Criss and Helen J Shen and clever direction by the always inventive Michael Arden, who has found really smart ways to use the trendy technology of cameras and screens without sacrificing good storytelling. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that more and more theatergoers give it a shot because this one is really a special treat and deserves a good run.

MEDEA: RE-VERSED: Greek dramas don’t get done as much as, say, Shakespeare's do but this very clever rap version of Medea is a reminder of why those stories have held on for thousands of years. The tale of the princess who betrays her own people to help the Greek warrior Jason find the Golden Fleece but later murders their young sons when he casts her aside for another woman remains the same as it is in the Euripides version but playwright Luis Quintero updated the storytelling and demonstrated his love for classic theatrical forms with smart rhyming couplets and hip-hop emcees stepping in as the chorus. 

MOTHER PLAY: By this time, you’re probably thinking that I’m obsessed with mothers and will give a pass to just about any show sympathetic to them. Maybe. But Paula Vogel’s semi-autobiographical three-hander totally earns its place on this list—and in my heart. With unusually forgiving grace, it tracks four decades in the life of a not very good single mother who copes by guzzling gin, chain smoking and browbeating her children, both of whom eventually come out as gay. Under Tina Landau’s sensitive direction, Jessica Lange, Jim Parsons and Celia Keenan-Bolger gave performances that balanced the pathos of the family’s struggles with the humor they employed to survive them. 

OH, MARY: Campy humor isn’t usually my thing but Cole Escola’s bizarro-world version of Mary Todd Lincoln’s activities in the weeks leading up to the assassination of her husband is so delightfully daffy that I found it impossible to resist. And I clearly wasn't alone in that. For the show has been packing them in for months after making the surprising move from the Lucille Lortel uptown to the Hudson on Broadway. Escola, who has been deservedly drawing the lion’s share of the praise, has been given invaluable support by Sam Pinkleton’s pitch-perfect direction and by a totally game cast, especially Conrad Ricamora as a horny Abe Lincoln.

OUR CLASS: Inspired by true events, this story of how the Holocaust affected a group of Jews and Christians in one small Polish village over seven decades—from their grade school years to their days in nursing homes for the few who survived that long—is innately powerful but director Igor Golyak’s inventive stagecraft turned it into a potent cautionary tale about how people can act when faced with truly horrendous choices. It kept me thinking for weeks about what I might or might not do in similar circumstances.

SUFFS: What does a woman have to do to make her voice heard in this country? Or on Broadway? Shaina Taub won this year's Tonys for both the book and the score for her musical about the struggle to get American women the right to vote. A diverse all-female identifying cast played the hell out of it. Audiences cried and cheered during its climactic anthem “Keep Marching.” And yet, the show is closing just eight months after it opened. Luckily PBS is filming the current production for its “Great Performances” series so it will able to inspire future generations to continue the fight.


 

 

 



December 24, 2024

Wishing you a theatrically merry little Christmas…



December 14, 2024

"Cult of Love" Fails to Keep the Faith


Leslye Headland has developed a following for her acclaimed Netflix series “Russian Doll” and for “The Acolyte,” the Disney Channel’s latest installment of the “Star Wars” saga. And if Cult of Love, her new show that just opened on Broadway, were a multi-episode TV soap like “Succession” or “Yellowstone” it might have worked better for me. 

For Cult of Love certainly has all the elements of those melodramas: a star-studded cast, a large dysfunctional family and clashes over issues like sex, money, drugs, what to do with difficult aging parents and who mom loves more. The problem for me is that Cult of Love doesn’t really dig into any of those subjects. Instead it devotes much of its energy to fooling around with—and making foolish fun of—religion and the people who have faith in it.  

And yet, the audience at the performance I attended was delighted with the show, literally cheering its slaps at religious faith. Headland famously grew up in a strictly religious household and so I suppose she is still working out her feelings about that. Fair enough. I don’t know how closely the Dahls, the family in the play, resemble her own parents and siblings but it’s clear why anyone would have conflicted feelings about being related to them.

Mom Ginny is a passive-aggressive control freak who deals with problems by pretending they don’t exist and downing a cocktail. One of those problems is her husband Bill, who is blithely slipping into dementia. But their grown children aren’t in much better shape.

The eldest son Mark studied at the Yale Divinity School but dropped out to become a lawyer, although he is now restless again even after having clerked for Supreme Court Justice John Roberts. And he’s also struggling with a failing marriage to his wife Rachel, a Jewish woman doubting her decision to convert to marry Mark and join a family that years later still regards her as a heathen.  

Evie, the oldest Dahl daughter is successful in her career as a chef but she’s resentful because the family hasn’t fully accepted her recent marriage to a woman. Younger brother Johnny is a heroin addict who’s in such shaky recovery that he’s brought the woman he’s sponsoring with him to the family’s Christmas Eve celebration for moral support (John Lee Beatty designed the Christmas-cardy set).  And then there’s the baby of the family, Diana, who is married to a timid Episcopalian priest and fanatically devout.

Ostensibly, the Dahls love one another but they don’t know how to talk to one another and so when they run out of things to say they pick up instruments and start to sing as though they were refugees from some old John Doyle musical. They sing a lot. I sighed when I realized they were going to go through all 10 verses of the spiritual “Children Go Where I Send Thee.”

Like most families, mine hasn’t been immune from holiday drama but I didn’t believe a bit of this one. That’s not because of the acting. The strong cast lead by Mare Winningham and David Rasche as the elder Dahls, Zachary Quinto as Mark, a scene-stealing Molly Bernard as Rachel and Shailene Woodley making an impressive stage debut as Diana (click here to read an interview with her) all work hard to create a semblance of both the family’s bonds and it fractures.  

But the play’s100-minute running time doesn’t leave enough time for them to do more than state their positions and then move on to the next plot point. A speech in the final moments tries to sum up the play’s themes but it's too late by then. I wanted more show and less tell and I resented that the serious questions about faith hadn't been treated seriously until then.

I also didn’t believe that the spouses and significant others would have stuck around while the Dahls were going at one another. And I really didn’t believe that they would have joined in with the singing. 

 

 


December 7, 2024

"Shit. Meet. Fan" Just Pretends to Be Bad

There are lots of marquee-names in Shit. Meet. Fan., the naughtily-titled comedy that is currently running at MCC Theater. But the show’s true star may be its set, a duplex apartment that scenic designer Clint Ramos has outfitted with fantastic views, a sleek chef’s kitchen and an incredibly well-stocked bar. I got to my seat early and as they came in, each person in my row turned to me and said something along the lines of “I could move in there right now.”

Of course it’s unlikely that any of us would want to live there if it meant we had to share those digs with the characters who are its occupants. They are Eve and Rodger, a smug therapist and plastic surgeon who are hosting a cocktail party for their longtime friends who include the sleazy lawyer Brett and his boozy wife Claire, a lascivious paramedic named Frank and his new young bride Hannah and Logan, a divorced gym teacher who is supposed to be bringing the new woman he’s dating but shows up stag. Hannah is Asian-American. Logan is black.

It's hard to believe that such a motley crew would have much in common but we're told that the guys were once frat brothers, the couples still take an annual ski vacation together and they’re all so trusting of one another that they agree to Eve’s proposal that they spend the evening playing a game in which all of them put their cellphones on the table and agree to read every incoming text out loud and to put all incoming calls on speakerphone. 

Needless to say secrets are revealed. Lots of secrets. Nearly all of them involving sex. It's a ridiculous premise but the show, which was written and directed by Robert O’Hara, was adapted from the 2016 Italian film “Perfect Strangers” that has also inspired some 20 film remakes in countries ranging from Azerbaijan to Vietnam. Sex jokes clearly sell everywhere.

What sells them in this production is a cast filled with folks who know how to squeeze laughs out of even the loopiest situations. Jane Krakowski and Neil Patrick Harris, who honed their comedic chops in popular TV sitcoms as well as onstage, play Eve and Rodger, who despite the tensions in their marriage relish being the most successful in the friend group. And the gifted Debra Messing knows just how far to push Claire's sloppy drunkenness. 

But O’Hara, who directed Slave Play and who has written such transgressive satires as Bootycandy (click here to read my review of that one) and Barbecue (click here to read my review of this one), likes to make his audiences uncomfortable.  And so his version of this story weaves in some strands designed to reveal the group's problematic attitudes on race, class and homophobia that lie just below the surface of their regular interactions—and maybe those of the people watching them as well. 

Not all of this works. And very little of it is new or as naughty as the play's title suggests. But not every show needs to have a deeper meaning or to break fresh artistic ground. Sometimes people just want to have some easy laughs. Or to see some famous faces up close. Or to look at and dream about living in a great apartment. And Shit. Meet. Fan checks all those boxes.