Oscar E Moore

At the Golden Theatre, where “An Evening with Mike Nichols and Elaine May” opened 58 years ago, Elaine May – a spry 86 with all her faculties and comic instincts intact – is once again taking center stage in Kenneth Lonergan’s loss of memory, memory play THE WAVERLY GALLERY first produced off-Broadway in 1999.

Suffering from dementia and Alzheimer’s disease isn’t at all funny.  The play is.  Particularly Act I.  By Act II we are deep in the depths of dealing with the disease both for victim and her caregivers as they ponder what to do; how to react.

Under the guidance of director Lila Neugebauer, the words of Lonergan and the artistry of Elaine May as Gladys Green, a former lawyer who is a bit hard of hearing and a bit shopworn, this tale unfolds in docu-drama style.  She lives for company and conversation.  She’s a real non-stop chatterbox.  With plenty of money so she says.

Gladys has operated a small, quaint art gallery on Waverly Place in Greenwich Village New York and lives in the same building as her grandson Daniel Reed (an excellent narrator Lucas Hedges – somewhat shy with a splash of dry humor) a speech writer for the Environmental Protection Agency and her watchful neighbor down the hall.

Suddenly her landlord wants to replace the gallery with a café.  She’s never had a lease and has a growing fear of not knowing what to do if she can’t continue to sell some paintings.  And talk to people.

In walks an artist from New England.  Young and naïve with little money and nowhere to live, Don Bowman (Michael Cera – without his trademark tics) – more an optimist than a great artist.  They immediately bond.  Kindred spirits.  Like Harold and Maude. And Gladys (bringing to mind Ruth Gordon) offers to allow him to stay in a back space much to the dismay of her daughter Ellen Fine (Joan Allen) and her second husband Howard Fine (David Cromer).

They need to approve.

What follows is the decent into the abyss of Alzheimer’s disease.  It’s funny until it’s not.  The patience needed to hear things repeated ad nauseam.  The frustration that is inevitable.  The not knowing how to cope.  The ordeal of it all.  The fear.

All the actors are first rate with Elaine May taking top honors.  She is still amazing.  There is an unseen dog that intrudes into the action as Gladys tries valiantly to over feed him.  And talk.

The scene changes are a tad too long with vintage videos projected of the changing Greenwich Village that Gladys cannot comprehend due to her slowly progressing terminal illness.

Through Jan 27^th.  2 hrs and 15 minutes.  One intermission.

www.thewaverlygalleryonbroadway.com

Photos:  Brigitte Lacombe

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Undoubtedly those of you interested in the latest openings on and off Broadway have heard all the positive hoopla over the multiple award winning play imported from London – THE FERRYMAN written by Jez Butterworth and directed by Sam Mendes.

And you know what, it’s all so very well deserved.  Beautifully written with sharp dialogue.  Staged magnificently.  With a backdrop of political strife to frame the action.  A vanished body of ten years suddenly found pickled in a bog with a bullet to the head.  And its repercussions to the large and extended Carney family.  It’s a fascinating, honest and true to life representation of human relationships and the sadness of love.

THE FERRYMAN is a must see production.  Even for those who agree with W. C. Fields that to act with children or animals is a no-no.  Not here.  For here we get a live goose who has escaped from her pen seeking to avoid being the main course of the Harvest Day dinner, a tiny rabbit and a real live human nine month old baby boy who smiles and gurgles right on cue and a slew of Carney children and their cousins – the Corcorans.

Despite this cuteness there is a feeling of melancholy and despair, of forlorn love, of missed opportunities to express the love felt from various characters that permeates the over three hour long production that goes by so quickly that you actually want to see more of this family as they continue their lives despite all the distractions and troubles surrounding the household.  Go.  Meet the Carneys.  Once you do some of the images will be etched on your mind forever.

Aunt Pat (Dearbhla Molloy) stiff as a rod sitting and listening to the latest report of the hunger strike deaths with her constant cigarette and whiskey that allows the truthful barbs that fly from her mouth to both sting and amuse.

Aunt Maggie Far Away (Fionnula Flanagan) wheelchair bound and lost in her memories and reveries yet coming to lucid life at times – especially to reminisce and enlighten the young girls of the clan of the beautiful lad she loved who loved another.  Salty language included.

And the dancing and the drinking and the laughter and the shouting and the fear from the sinister IRA honcho Muldoon (Stuart Graham – his very presence evokes shivers to one and all) as he attempts to keep certain facts secret about the IRA informant’s body that has been found.  That of Seamus Carney.  Brother of Quinn Carney – a forceful and eloquent Paddy Considine.

Seamus’ wife the frustrated Caitlin (Laura Donnelly) has lived without closure for ten years – not knowing about Seamus’ whereabouts; moving in with her son Oisin (Rob Malone) to her brother-in-law Quinn’s farmhouse sharing with his wife and seven children who spends most of her life upstairs in bed dealing with a mysterious virus.  Caitlin has taken over the wifely duties of the ill Mary (Genevieve O’Reilly) – everything except giving birth to all the children.

Technically speaking nothing could be improved upon.  Set and costume designer (Rob Howell) Lighting (Peter Mumford) are excellent.  And there is a huge plus.  These actors know how to enunciate and project.  Even so, if you do not want to miss a single word and you well shouldn’t get yourself a set of headphones.  They are terrific.

And finally there is Tom Kettle (a magnificent Justin Edwards) – a charming farmhand who happens to be the odd Englishman in this Irish populace – a poet and a bit slow on the uptake.  He who distributes shiny apples and cuddles his tiny rabbit has one of the most heart wrenching and beautiful scenes in the entire production that reinforces the sorrow of love.

At the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre.  Go.  Be transported and entranced by the Irish.  One 15 minute intermission.  One brief three minute pause following Act II.

www.theferrymanbroadway.com

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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I would love to report that it doesn’t matter if you don’t know heads or tails of the rules of SNOOKER – a game similar to billiards (pool) made famous by Paul Newman and Jackie Gleason in the outstanding 1961 film THE HUSTLER around which the shenanigans of the oddest group of characters have migrated out of the mind of playwright Richard Bean in this muddled and not very amusing two act comedy – where gag jokes land like cow pies – if and when you can understand what these Sheffield England residents are spouting.

Their accents are thicker than the walls of Fort Knox which make it quite difficult to explain the thin and twisted plot.  You get an idea of what is happening without the details.  And details are important in a comedy.

Mr. Bean had great success in 2012 with his breezy and freely adapted version of Carlo Goldoni’s The Servant of Two Masters – ONE MAN, TWO GUVNORS which featured an amazing James Corden who instantly became a huge star.  And rightfully so.

This time around we get an original story (not an adaptation) without the talents of James Corden to bring it to vivid life.  Instead we get:

Dylan Spokes (Ben Schnetzer) a rising star in the world of SNOOKER.  His Archie Bunker like ex-convict dad (John Ellison Conlee) his colorful manager (Max Gordon Moore – both in manner and dress) his weird mother Stella Spokes (Johanna Day) and her gambling cohort (Thomas Jay Ryan) and two investigators into the alleged future “fixing” of the competition (Bhavesh Patel) and Eleanor Lavery (Heather Lind – who isn’t quite the cop she appears to be).

Last but not least is the cherry on the top of this oddest cast of characters – Waxy Bush (Alexandra Billings) a majestic transgendered woman with one operable hand who happens to be a gangster and prone to easily understandable foul words.

Fast forward to the actual Act II competition (two rounds) between Dylan and the actual U.S. National Snooker Champion Ahmed Aly Elsayed where we get amplified comments that are amusing and understandable.  Where a large on stage screen zeroes in on all those red balls and where audience participation is encouraged to support the players – vocally!

Loosely directed by Dan Sullivan.  Sets by David Rockwell.  Act I as they set us up is quite a snooze.   Act II zany.  Don’t be snookered by all this malarkey.

A MTC production at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre.

Through November 11^th if all this silliness is your cup of tea.

www.ManhattanTheatreClub.com

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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Historical dramas can prove to be problematic.  To stick to the facts or not, that is the question.  In BERNHARDT/HAMLET playwright Teresa Rebeck attempts to straddle the best of both worlds:  fact and fiction.  She is somewhat successful.  Throwing in some heavy duty female empowerment discourse to boot.

We meet the formidable French actress Sarah Bernhardt who is at a crossroads in her illustrious career in Paris, France 1897 portrayed by the very English and very formidable actress Janet McTeer (in top form) at the American Airlines Theatre for the Roundabout Theatre Company, long absent from the New York stage.

Sarah is 55, heralded as the best, most divine actress of the century but she’s feeling a bit blue as she is a bit long in the tooth to continue portraying ingénues in this quasi-historical opus that fishtails into the story of a woman seeking power and respect for her talent.

She also faces huge debts incurred from her last fiasco written by a younger Edmund Rostand (Jason Butler Harner) who happens to be working on his newest project CYRANO de BERGERAC while canoodling with the Divine Miss Sarah behind his wife Rosamond’s back.  This is where the creativity of Ms. Rebeck wanders off into fiction-land I believe.  The canoodling part.

And so to revitalize her career she decides to portray Hamlet.  Before I continue I have to mention that we are asked to accept – in our suspension of disbelief – that all we see takes place in turn of the century Paris where all our actors speak English.  Only Matthew Sandoval as the French artist Alphonse Mucha, who created her many art nouveau posters, has a tinge of Continental speech.  That’s about all the French you’ll get in this production.

Helping us along are the exceptional sets by Beowulf Boritt that evoke the period beautifully as do the costumes by Toni-Leslie James.

And so Sarah ponders the part of Hamlet.  Poses.  Pontificates.  Rules the roost backstage during Act I, rehearsing and looking for motivations as we wait for some kind of action which arrives at the very end of the Act when she decides that Rostand will rewrite Shakespeare’s HAMLET without all the poetry.  After intermission the play happily takes off in what may seem like too many directions to some.

We meet Sarah’s son Maurice an excellent Nick Westrate.  And Rostand’s miscast wife (Ito Aghayere also a writer) who penned the famous adage “I love you more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.”  Which might be the most memorable line of BERNHARDT/HAMLET.

We see a bit from CYRANO (Dylan Baker as actor Constant Coquelin) and then a return to HAMLET and the formidable Janet McTeer for its very surprising conclusion.

Other than the I-am-the-star performance of Janet McTeer, BERNHARDT/HAMLET is a slow going and disappointing affair directed by Moritz von Stuelpnagel where the real Sarah Bernhardt remains elusive.

Through November 11^th.

www.RoundaboutTheatre.org

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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In happily-ever-after neon lit Hollywood, circa late 1980’s just about anything plausible and implausible can happen, especially in a musical, from this unique perspective – looking down from high above and behind the famous HOLLYWOOD sign, part of the sparse but effective set design by David Rockwell, in this adaptation of the extremely popular 1990 romantic-comedy movie PRETTY WOMAN, best known for its stars Julia Roberts and Richard Gere and its most popular theme song “Oh, Pretty Woman” by Roy Orbison & Bill Dees, which for whatever reasons has been jettisoned in lieu of a mediocre and odd pop-rock/country western musical score by Bryan Adams and Jim Vallance that is ear-deafening bombastic (credit John Shivers, appropriately named) from its onset to its happily-ever-after ending some two and a half hours later at the Nederlander Theatre.  One intermission.

After some deep and intensive research I have discovered that the musical covers almost verbatim the plot of the movie, with famous scenes intact as originally created by J.F. Lawton and directed by the late Garry Marshall who had co-authored the book for this current production with Mr. Lawton before his demise in 2016.

I am probably one of the only members of this sold-out audience of mostly women of a certain age (there were many canes and walkers in evidence) who has never seen the film.  And so I can’t compare.  Are all these women hoping once again to be bewitched and saved by the swaggering, money focused corporate raider Edward Lewis now played by the charming and hunky Andy Karl who has inherited the role from the charming and hunky Richard Gere…

Now Andy Karl is a man with a monumental talent.  But he does not get to use about 90 % of it until late in this production.  He appears, as the part requires, to be a successful stuffed shirt waiting to explode.  To find his “freedom” in a series of forlorn ballads that do not suit the character at all.  In fact his suit does not suit the character unless it is purposefully confining.  But I digress.

Gregg Barnes has once again come up with some knockout costumes especially for the very pretty Vivian.  Her infamous “red gown” as she goes off with Edward to hear La Traviata wears well.  This sequence is also a stand out with Allison Blackwell and Matt Farcher brilliantly voicing Violetta and Alfredo respectively.

Edward has come to Hollywood to close a deal and accidentally meets up with prostitute Vivian Ward (Samantha Barks – also appropriately named as she belts out in her best American Idol mode her 11 o’clock number ”I Can’t Go Back” holding the last money note for all it’s worth.  But I digress.

He winds up hiring her for a week of companionship and in the process, with the magical use of his unlimited credit card, she lives out her fantasy and he unexpectedly loosens up, but not before a few well directed foreplay sex scenes where the lights dim at just the right moment.  Despite this they have very little chemistry percolating between them.

The story is actually two stories:  A – the hookers of Hollywood and their dreams led by the fabulous Orfeh who takes command of the stage as only a charismatic star, with wit and powerhouse vocals can – and B – the Cinderella/Pygmalion saga of Vivian and Edward.  Because storyline A is more entertaining allowing director/choreographer Jerry Mitchell to break out in dance more often it almost, but not quite, takes over the more important B storyline.

Although Mr. Mitchell does come up with a rather odd teaching-Vivian-to-dance routine by using the Manager of the Beverly Wilshire’s Mr. Thompson as instructor (a terrific and memorable performance by Eric Anderson who also portrays our Hollywood narrator Happy Man – his transition from one character to another is a highlight) with another standout performance by Tommy Bracco (Giulio, a Bellhop) who the audience rightfully adores.

PRETTY WOMAN is at times pleasurable at best.  With some fine performers having to plod through a very mediocre and much too loud score.  Proceed with caution.

www.prettywomanthemusical.com

Photos:  Matthew Murphy

Visit www.TalkEntertainment.com

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Ah!  Love!  What is love but a four letter word?  A word much used and oft abused.  It can mean a multitude of things and comes in all kinds of combinations and varieties.  Everyone at one time or another has been in or out of this simple yet terribly complicated word.

It can lead to bliss or a serious case of the blahs.  It can be quite expensive.  Demeaning.  Demented.  In tennis “love” means zero.  Something to think about…

And so, dear reader, we arrive to experience love in all its magnificent and all-inclusive glory.  Bursting forth at the Hudson Theatre in a most enjoyable new musical HEAD OVER HEELS in the Kingdom of Arcadia.  Get thee hence quickly to see this boisterous, bawdy and beautiful production.  In plain English GO!

Fear not the archaic Elizabethan language that has been updated to easily understandable witticisms by Jeff Whitty (original book) and James Magruder (adapter).  I hesitate to mention that it is based on an Elizabethan “pastoral romance” The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia by Sir Philip Sidney as it might further make you hesitate to see this inspired, most perfect blend-ship of the Elizabethan age and our age of total acceptance impeccably directed by Michael Mayer.

No detail, of which there are too many to count, is glossed over.  All the details – verbal and visual (Costumes by Arianne Phillips and Set Design by Julian Crouch are magnificent) – add up to an evening of mad-cap lunacy that beguiles.

HEAD OVER HEELS is balanced exquisitely by the songs of the GO-GO’s.  Lest you be unfamiliar as I was, dear reader, fear not again as the songs somehow fit the plot as easily as the foot of Cinderella eased into that infamous glass slipper.  Written by an all-female pop band in the 1980’s:  Charlotte Caffey, Belinda Carlisle, Gina Schock, Kathy Valentine and Jane Wiedlin, these songs will certainly get your heart pumping.

Do I dare say that HOH is a Valentine to all lovers?  Especially “We Got the Beat” that picks up the throbbing heartbeat of all those lovers on stage with the terrific arrangements and orchestrations of Tom Kitt.

The choreography by Spencer Liff is totally original and perfect for the intermingling of the two distinct periods.  For once we do not see the ubiquitous tap/show stopping number.  His unique movements, executed by expert dancers are all eye popping WOW inducing show stoppers.   All brilliantly lit by Kevin Adams.

Now, dear reader I have not yet spoken of the plot as it is a bit convoluted.  But I have faith that you will fully grasp all the humor presented by this group of excellent thespians.

There is the stubborn King (a charming Jeremy Kushnier) and his equally headstrong Queen (a radiant Rachel York).  Their marriage is on the rocks and so is their Kingdom due to a doomsday prophesy by Pythio (The Oracle of Delphi – a viper – brilliantly portrayed by Peppermint, who just happens to be the first transgendered woman to create a principal role on Broadway.

Two daughters:  Pamela the Vain in a star making performance by Bonnie Milligan who all but stops the show twice (once with a recitation of some poetry and then with a jealous hissy diva fit in song) and Philoclea the Plain (Alexandra Socha) who is in love with a lowly shepherd Musidorus (Andrew Durand – another standout) as he is with her.  And this is where things can become complicated as in all relationships.

The shepherd is banished and returns as an Amazon woman to woo his love, the Plain sister.  The Vain falls for him/her as do the Queen and the King.  Act II has a brilliant shadow play of a jolly simulated sex scene in silhouette…it has to be seen.

To complete the court of Arcadia are Dametas (Tom Alan Robbins) the King’s viceroy and his daughter Mopsa (Taylor Iman Jones) who falls in love with…

Dear reader, I have already said too much.  You must now buy your ticket and bring along a loved one or two.  If what I have described is not to your liking I suggest you try to widen your vistas; embrace and celebrate one another with hearty laughter and the heartbeat of the Go-Go’s.

Believe me, you will have one hell of a good time as evidenced by the loud and positive buzz of the audience during intermission.  I myself have seen the show twice and would gladly revisit Arcadia again and again.

www.headoverheelsthemusical.com

Photos:  Joan Marcus

Visit www.TalkEntertainment.com

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On view at the Helen Hayes Theater is STRAIGHT WHITE MEN written by Young Jean Lee who has the distinction of being the first Asian-American woman to be produced on Broadway.  A Second Stage production in a very limited run through September 9^th after its initial foray at the off-Broadway Public Theater in 2014.

It stars Armie Hammer, making his Broadway debut.  He recently made headlines for his appearance in the film CALL ME BY YOUR NAME alongside a peach.  He is handsome, tall and charming.  He is quite good as one of the three sons spending Christmas with their dad in a family room in the Midwest that looks surprisingly like Levittown circa 1955.

Tall, charming and funny.  He is given an opportunity to let loose in a dance similar to that dance in the aforementioned movie.  But this is hardly a stretch for him.  One wonders what made him want to appear in this “slight three scene sit-com” with “superfluous curtain raiser” featuring low key Native American performer Ty Defoe and 70 year old transgender pioneer Kate Bornstein as our guides.

After being assaulted by the extremely loud rap music for almost 30 non-stop minutes they explain why.  Why I ask antagonize the audience to begin with?  They explain.  At least the noise has stopped and they are somewhat amusing standing before a Mylar Disco/Cabaret curtain that ascends to reveal the true set that is framed like a diorama in the Museum of Natural History.

Person in Charge 1 and Person in Charge 2 (our guides) place the actors and change set pieces during the performance.

And now to the play.

Fond memories of MY THREE SONS bubble up to the surface.  A widower raising his three young boys.  But in STRAIGHT WHITE MEN these boys are adult men acting like adolescents visiting their dad (Stephen Payne) for Christmas.  Ho Ho Hum….

Drew (Armie Hammer) a successful writer – the youngest – promotes therapy for his older brother Matt (Paul Schneider) who has moved back in with his dad for financial reasons.  He is happy with his temp job and cleaning up and taking care of the household.  Witness the elongated scene of him (1) vacuuming and (2) clearing up the empty beer bottles.  Jake (Josh Charles) is a divorced banker who loves video games.

They play a board game PRIVILEGE that their late mother adapted from MONOPOLY to teach them tolerance.  Perhaps that is why Jake married a black woman.  They jostle and tease and poke one another and eat popcorn and Chinese takeout and drink beer and sort of decorate the forlorn artificial half lit tree.  They dance.  They sing.  Dad sort of plays a guitar.  They wear sort of matching flannel PJ’s and eventually try to help Matt who unexpectedly ends the first scene in tears.  Matt doesn’t want their help.  He wants to help others.  Will he give in before we do?

By this time we just want them all to leave Matt be.  He’s happy.  Except for that crying jag.  And if these were my brothers and my father I’d be crying too.  There are some funny lines.  The best one dealing with the eggnog.  It’s a not so merry Christmas.  Directed by Anna D. Shapiro.  90 minutes.  No intermission.

www.2st.com

Photos:  Joan Marcus

Visit www.TalkEntertainment.com

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I’ll make this short and unfortunately not so sweet.

You will most probably leave this most recent reincarnation of this mostly problematic musical humming a few of its wonderful songs (music by Burton Lane); maybe even singing some of the almost-too-clever lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner who also wrote the befuddled book for ON A CLEAR DAY YOU CAN SEE FOREVER that is slugging along for dear life at the Irish Rep on West 22 Street through August 12^th.

This valiant production “adapted” and directed by Charlotte Moore appears to bring back the good ol’ summer stock days of yore.  Ms. Moore’s adaptation has cut and pasted and rearranged without making the more than necessary improvements to Alan Jay Lerner’s book which was first produced in 1965.

Its scaled down cast of eleven strives to instill some life into this tale of addicted smoker Daisy Gamble (Melissa Errico) an unemployed “kook” who sings charmingly to flowers to make them grow faster, can locate lost keys and knows before it happens that a phone will ring.

She is inadvertently hypnotized by Dr. Mark Bruckner (a well-intentioned albeit cold Stephen Bogardus) a psychiatrist interested in ESP and regresses to 18^th Century England as Melinda Welles where we meet her artist/lover Edward Moncrief – a dashing John Cudia – he alone being right for the role.  His rendition of “She Wasn’t You” is sublime.

The Dr. falls in love with Melinda and courts Daisy to learn more about her past.  Treating her as an experiment.  Daisy falls for the Dr. believing he is growing fonder of her until she discovers the truth and belts out “What Did I Have That I Don’t Have” awakening some interest in an audience member (me) who was finding the proceedings without much spark.

You might have been to a child’s elementary school Drama Club’s year end production of a musical at some point where their fellow students did their best but somehow were just not believable – performing on a simple set with a bit of lackluster choreography.  As good as the tunes were, it really wasn’t enough.  In a word, amateurish.  And so it is with CLEAR DAY.  Nostalgia is not enough.

2 hrs – one 15 minute intermission

Photos:  Walter McBride

Visit www.TalkEntertainment.com

www.irishrep.org

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Dramatists Guild Criticizes Marginalization of Writers at the 2018 Tony Awards

by BWW News Desk

BroadwayWorld.com Jun. 14, 2018

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Dough Wright, president of the Dramatists Guild of America, has issued an open letter to the CEO of the CBS Network, Les Moonves, criticizing the omission of categories honoring playwrights and composers from Sunday’s Tony Awards telecast.

Many fans on social media had already taken note of the omission, bemoaning the network’s decision not to air these central categories on the live show.

Read the full Dramatists Guild statement below:

“Dear Mr. Moonves,

Congratulations on the 2018 Tony Awards Telecast. As president of the Dramatists Guild, I applaud CBS for continuing to champion live theater on national television.

That said, we remain dismayed that the awards continue to marginalize the roles of playwrights, composers, and lyricists in forging the American theater. This is especially ironic because without dramatists, there would be no theater to celebrate. Before there can be a festive opening night, rave reviews, skyrocketing receipts, and nationally televised awards shows, a few brave writers must tackle the lonely task of scribing words in an effort to tell the stories that fill their hearts and minds. When they do so, they create thousands of jobs for their fellow professionals in the field, enrich the cultural life of the nation, and pump millions upon millions of dollars into our economy.

A list of great theater writers includes some of the most enduring names in popular culture: George and Ira Gershwin, Irving Berlin, Arthur Miller, Lillian Hellman, August Wilson, and Stephen Sondheim. Exciting new writers are joining their ranks every season on Broadway. But, by failing to grant them visibility, CBS is erasing them from the historical record. This is a shame not only for the telecast, but also for our national musical and literary heritage.

We understand that your mission is two-fold: to honor our art form, but also to create entertaining television. Nevertheless, the omission of writers is patently arbitrary. Surely the names of many Broadway actors, directors, and producers are no more familiar to the average viewer than those of our members.

This year, by excluding authors, the telecast arguably shot itself in the foot. Many of the songwriters of the year’s hit musicals are already bold-faced names, beloved all across the country. Aerosmith, Cyndi Lauper, David Bowie, Lady Antebellum, John Legend, and cohost Sara Bareilles are just some of the composers responsible for SpongeBob SquarePants. The songwriters for Disney’s adaptation of Frozen, Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, won an Oscar for the chart-topping anthem “Let It Go.” This year’s Tony winner, David Yazbek, is a three-time Tony nominee. Audiences would find this information educative and dramatically engaging; these figures are titans on Broadway and elsewhere. Shockingly, on the broadcast, their honors were supplanted by commercials.

Plays fared no better than musicals. In fact, the playwrights may have suffered even more. At least scenes from the musicals and the Tony for Best Book were presented on air, but this year there was no attempt to present the plays on the broadcast in any manner whatsoever. Last year, the playwrights were given a moment to describe their plays. Regarding the award itself, the Tony for Best Play is supposed to be awarded to both the producer and the author, yet in the broadcast, the nominated authors were not even mentioned (Ayad Akhtar, Lucy Kirkwood, John Leguizamo and Claire van Kampen). Adding further insult to injury, when Harry Potter and the Cursed Child won the trophy, the two producers used up all the allotted time without allowing the playwright to speak. Regrettably, CBS drowned out playwright Jack Thorne with incidental music, favoring time strictures over meaningful content and basic fairness.

Every year, the Academy Awards faithfully includes screenwriters in not one but two categories. And it’s not just the Oscars; the Grammys, Emmys, and Golden Globes all award the writers in their respective industries on the air. And yet it’s the theater that most esteems writers; we are generally recognized as the principal artistic force behind new work, and we even retain ownership and control over the material we create. Yet on the very awards show intended to celebrate our craft, we are effectively negated.

Please note, Mr. Moonves, that Dramatists Guild presidents past and present have been forced to write some version of this letter almost annually. The ongoing failure by CBS and the Tony committee to act on this matter has been noticed by dramatists everywhere; the day following the Awards, my in-box was filled with notes from understandably irked theater writers, and social media was alive and crackling with indignation. It is worth noting that these same dramatists own the words and music that are performed on the broadcast.

The Dramatists Guild strongly urges you to reconsider this policy in future years and, instead, make the Tony Awards truly reflective of the artists who create the magic that fills American stages.

Respectfully,
Doug Wright
President, Dramatists Guild of America”

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Are you up to the challenge?  Are you willing to commit both time and that all important commodity, money, into seeing this once in a lifetime theatrical experience?

This is a stunner of a play.  Actually two plays.  Part one, 2 hours and 20 minutes.  Part two, 2 hours and 35 minutes.  Plus 2 twenty minute intermissions.  And if you see them both in one day, as I did, a dinner break.

I have just recovered from “Potter Fatigue” after viewing this British import in all its glory that is still running in London and Melbourne.  Its New York City home, The Lyric Theatre on West 43 Street, has been beautifully refurbished.

HARRY POTTER and the CURSED CHILD is a banquet of words.  You sometimes feel that they are about to sing.  But no.  They talk.  Lots of exposition.  From an original new story from J.K. Rowling, Jack Thorne (who is credited with writing the play) and John Tiffany its director who has done an amazing job along with movement director Steven Hoggett.  Both perfect choices to helm this production.

It’s also a feast for the eyes.  Monumental set design (Christine Jones) Costumes (Katrina Lindsay) and brilliant lighting design Neil Austin will leave you feeling stuffed and satisfied and somewhat bewildered at times.  Yet full of wonderment and awe from witnessing some of the most incredible illusions and magic created by Jamie Harrison.

J.K. Rowling is the genius mind behind the Harry Potter franchise.  Seven books, the first published in June 1977 after being rejected numerous times by publisher after publisher, breakthrough cinematic versions, a theme park and numerous other money magnet enterprises connected to her Wizard.

She created not only memorable characters, but universal themes about friendship, parenting, growing up, destiny and the forces of evil.  Most of our favorite characters are present.  They have grown up physically while retaining some of their younger characteristics.

It is nineteen years after the seventh book and Harry is 37.   An amazing performance by Jamie Parker has him back at Platform nine and three quarters as he sets his son Albus (an excellent Sam Clemmett) off to Hogwarts where Harry was considered to be the best wizard there ever was.  A problem that Albus has to contend with which leads to troubling issues between him and his dad.

Harry is married to Ginny – a more than fine Poppy Miller.  Her brother Ron Weasley, still my favorite character, is with the clever Hermione – Noma Dumezweni who is excellent but a rather odd choice to play this character that takes a bit of adjustment for traditional Potter fans.

Having Albus bond with Scorpius, the son of Draco Malfoy (Alex Price) who was the arch enemy of Harry is a brilliant idea that sets us off on this new, lengthy and convoluted journey.  He too has daddy issues.

Anthony Boyle portrays Scorpius with wry humor and occasionally unintelligible speech.  This a combination of the original music by Imogen Heap that can overshadow the dialogue, his British accent and the sound system.

I was seated in the fifth row and had trouble hearing him and others.  The large speakers above flushed the sound out to the auditorium and laughter could be heard behind me at the jokes while the front orchestra section remained silent.  I note this only because the rest of the production is so good that it is a shame that these prime seats have a problem with the sound.

Swirling capes, flights of castle stairs, surprises galore, talking portraits, a back to the future “time turner” – fine video design by Finn Ross & Ash Woodward,  a wonderful cameo by Lauren Nicole Cipoletti as Moaning Myrtle and the sudden friendship between Delphi Diggory (a great Jessie Fisher) and Albus and Scorpius as they try to save…

I have been sworn to “keep the secrets” – so it is up to you to take the challenge to find out what happens.

As I mentioned, this is a once in a lifetime theatrical experience that must be seen to be believed and you may still find it hard to believe what you see!

www.harrypottertheplay.com

Photos:  Matthew Murphy

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