Oscar E Moore

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SWEET CHARITY – Scaled down Off B’way revival starring Sutton Foster glistens

December 6th, 2016 by Oscar E Moore


I should start by advising you to hasten down to The Pershing Square Signature Center to see SWEET CHARITY running through January 8th 2017.   However I am a bit late.  It’s a very hard ticket to come by.  The space is indeed intimate.

However care has been given in the staging to make every seat have an equal opportunity view.  The production is sensational.

This Neil Simon, Cy Coleman, Dorothy Fields 1966 musical has been brilliantly scaled down and reexamined and reimagined by director Leigh Silverman to slip into the intimate three quarters round seating – adding a deeper dimension to Charily Hope Valentine’s search for the perfect man – without sacrificing the super entertainment factor and exciting score one iota.

A smaller cast.  Doubling and tripling in roles.  They are all wonderful.  Especially Joel Perez, Asmeret Ghebremichael and Emily Padgett.

 Spearheaded by the incomparable Sutton Foster.  May she never be out of the spotlight.   She has it all.  Her effortless dancing.  Her comic timing.  Her sandwich making.  Her mega-watt smile.  And a vulnerability that makes this Charity one whom you just want to hug and tell her it will all turn out OK.  Eventually.

When Charity shouts out “Somebody Loves Me!” it is not just a cue for a production number but a newly found realization that her life finally has some meaning.  And we want to celebrate along with her.

She’s been in denial for so long but still hopeful, wearing her heart on her sleeve as one man after another takes advantage of her and wearing her hurt in her heart.  Sutton Foster allows us to glimpse that hurt.

A sextet of women above the stage replaces a full orchestra.  And yet the now famous songs sound as fresh as ever.  The excellent choreography by Joshua Bergasse make memories of the Bob Fosse original fade into the wings of the past.

The bare bones set by Derek McLane seems perfectly seedy for the dance hall and other locations that have props whisk in and out speedily.  Lighting by Jeff Croiter helps tremendously to depict the Central Park Lake, the stuck Parachute Jump of Coney Island and claustrophobic elevator where Charity meets the man of her dreams Oscar – a bedraggled and shy nebbish of a guy – played honestly and surprisingly sympathetically by Shuler Hensley.

The idea to place the heartbreaking “Where Am I Going?” at the end of the show makes an emotionally valid and bittersweet finale to all that has occurred making Charity face the music, wondering what went wrong and what is going to happen next.  Will she ever learn?  We hope so – for without love life has no purpose.

A production of THE NEW GROUP.  www.thenewgroup.org

Photos:  Monique Carboni

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RIDE THE CYCLONE – Neither here nor there

December 1st, 2016 by Oscar E Moore

The big question is – who of the five dead teenage choir members plus one “Baby Jane” doll-like mysterious girl who lost her head in a tragic accident on the Cyclone roller coaster in a decrepit vintage Coney Island Carnival site, spearheaded by a robotic fortune teller will win enough votes tallied by said fortune teller “The Amazing Karnak” to be lucky enough after spilling out their guts in tuneful if not altogether memorable song after song to return to the living in this mixed bag vaudeville import from Canada which has just blown into the Lucille Lortel Theatre?

Attempting to take us to dizzying heights RIDE THE CYCLONE is a series of ups and downs without too many thrills and/or chills.  Life or rather death isn’t such a carnival for these unfortunate teens.  All but one rises to the occasion.

And one – Jane Doe (the mysterious beheaded doll-like charmer Emily Rohm) whose head sits in its rightful place allowing Ms. Rohm to majestically sing her aria while giving the flying magic carpet from ALADDIN a run for its money.  This extra special effect is truly spectacular.

If Brooke Maxwell and Jacob Richmond the creators of this uneven production intended for us to care for their characters – all victims of a tragic accident – they could have created real people and not stereotypical central casting types who one after another (check them off as they finish their songs) are showcased in some lovely musical production numbers.

There is the gay boy – Noel Gruber (Kholby Wardell channeling Michael Urie channeling Marlene Dietrich.  Jane Doe (Emily Rohm) who gets to keep her decapitated head firmly in place to entertain us while toting a decapitated doll.  A physically challenged Ricky Pots (an adorable Alex Wyse) who gets to rock his inner rock star with surprisingly strong vocals.  Mischa Bachinski a crotch grabbing (his own) Ukrainian rapper who bares his chiseled chest.  Constance Blackwood (Lillian Castillo) the shy, low self-esteemed best friend of the heroine of this opus Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg (a terribly annoying Tiffany Tatreau) a mix of Alice in Wonderland and Matilda – who originated this role in Chicago and took over for Taylor Louderman who unexpectedly left the show this week citing “artistic differences.”

Also the dry and acerbic Karl Hamilton as The Amazing Karnak who foretells his own demise by Virgil the giant rat who is chewing on his power cable.

The set by Scott Davis is fantastic.  Ditto for costumes (Theresa Ham) projections (Mike Tutaj) special effects and illusions by Michael Curry Designs & Hat Rabbit Studio, lighting design Greg Hofmann and choreography by Rachel Rockwell who also keeps the Cyclone moving along despite jumping the tracks every so often with her first rate cast of players.

“Well, I wasn’t bored.” a friend said after the 100 minutes in purgatory – without intermission.  But not being bored does not a great musical make.

A MCC THEATER production.   Through December 29th


Photos:  Joan Marcus

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THIS DAY FORWARD – saying “I do” and not meaning it

November 22nd, 2016 by Oscar E Moore

This new play by Nicky Silver could be subtitled REGRETS.  In the absurd first act we find Irene (Holley Fain) and newlywed husband Martin (Michael Crane) having a face off in a room at the St. Regis Hotel on their nuptial night circa 1958.  He is wealthy.  He is Jewish.  He is about to be very unhappy.  You might be too and have a strong desire to leave.

In the beautiful Allen Moyer designed room an extremely nervous Irene wearing her beautiful Kaye Voyce designed wedding gown has a confession to make to her brand new loving husband Martin who tries his best to get her beneath the sheets.  After all they have just said “I do” and should be celebrating happily.  But then there is out-of-the-blue “confession” from Irene.

What follows is vintage TV sitcom silly.  Third rate Neil Simon.

Emile (Joe Tippet) a handsome and virile gas station worker shows up.  The heavily accented and very amusing maid Melka (June Gable) shows up – bellhop son Donald (Andrew Burnap) in tow.  Mrs. Schmitt (Francesca Faridany) shows up briefly as Martin and Irene try to come to some agreement as we hear the back stories of those involved.

It’s all light and superficial.  Not plausible nor believable.  However the acting is convincing.  And then all of a sudden in Act II everything begins to make sense.  Sort of.

It is 46 years later.  On a brand new set – the high rise Manhattan apartment of Irene and Martin’s son Noah (Michael Crane) where he reluctantly awaits his mentally unravelling mother (June Gable) and his fed-up-with-taking-care-of-her sister Sheila (Francesca Faridany) along with his sexy actor boy-toy lover Leo (Andrew Burnap).

All of the actors convincingly convey their new found characters with warmth and honesty.  And humor.  Especially June Gable who gives a commanding performance.  The dialogue sounds different.  Real.  Mr. Silver has captured both periods exactly and has created a theatrical coup with his double part casting.

There are more back stories and arguments as we learn the heartache behind that initial “I do” between Irene and Martin.  It’s quite sad, believable and touching.   Each act nicely directed by Mark Brokaw with its own and quite unique tone.

Do the right thing for yourself when you find someone to share your life with.  It’s a major decision and you must do what feels right.  What is right and honest and not live a make-believe life full of regrets.

The older Irene gives out some sage advice that makes THIS DAY FORWARD worth a trip to the Vineyard Theatre.  She is not so mentally disabled.


Photos:  Carol Rosegg

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FALSETTOS – it only gets better with age: the show, our perception

November 7th, 2016 by Oscar E Moore

Against a backdrop of the skyline of Manhattan circa 1979 an enormous gray cube sits center stage ready to come apart and miraculously be put back together again – much like the extended family in chaos created by the brilliant William Finn (music, lyrics & book) and James Lapine (director/co-book) of FALSETTOS.

A coupling of two long ago off-Broadway musicals:  MARCH OF THE FALSETOS 1981 and FALSETTOLAND 1990 now FALSETTOS a Lincoln Center Theater production at the Walter Kerr Theatre.  Make sure to see it.

In this high energy, smart, tuneful, brutally honest, funny and touching production we meet Marvin (Christian Borle) a self-absorbed Jewish guy who wants it all, married to his frazzled but loving wife Trina (Stephanie J. Block) and wise beyond his years son Jason (Anthony Rosenthal)

Marvin meets the handsome hunk Whizzer (Andrew Rannells) leaves Trina who deals with this bump in the road of happily married life with Marvin’s shrink Mendel (Brandon Uranowitz – a real mensch) who falls for her in a big caring way.

This song cycle saga is happily sung through with wise and witty lyrics by the most accomplished ensemble cast on Broadway who also reconfigure the cubist set of building blocks throughout.  The songs just keeping rolling along.  Nonstop – delightfully and compassionately.

One highlight of those many highlights is Trina’s “I’m Breaking Down” which brings down the house.  Stephanie Block has never been better.

Neither has Christian Borle who has shown us many times over his genius for over the top comedy.  Here he gets to portray a man in turmoil.  Loving his wife and son and Whizzer and having to come to terms with himself and what is really most important to him.  And perhaps makes us feel and realize what is most important to us.

Especially in a more somber Act II where Whizzer is struck by a mysterious disease that is spreading among gay men – “Something Bad is Happening.”

It is here that we meet two new characters – the lesbian neighbors next door.  Dr. Charlotte (Tracie Thoms) and Cordelia the master kosher caterer (Betsy Wolfe) as Jason prepares for his Bar Mitzvah amidst the deterioration of Whizzer and the love that they all share with each other.

Any caregiver of a terminally ill person will wilt and perhaps shed a few tears, perhaps a few thousand tears at what transpires on stage with such an accomplished cast and story.  It’s not just a “gay” story.  It’s a human story told brilliantly, sung brilliantly with passion, humor and spirit.

Love, friendship, family, compassion are all rightfully above the title here.

Through January 8th.  Do yourself and someone you care for a favor and see this memorable production.


Photos:  Joan Marcus

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LES LIAISONS DANGERSNOOZ – Misguided revival with mismatched stars

November 5th, 2016 by Oscar E Moore

Oh those idle rich.  Oh how they are so easily bored.  Oh how they can just as easily bore us.  In this newest listless revival of Christopher Hampton’s infamous adaptation of Choderlos de Laclos’ 1782 scandalous novel of letters LES LIAISONS DANGEREUSES we have a misguided concept by director Josie Rourke (Artistic Director of the Donmar Warehouse, London) with mismatched ex-lovers (Janet McTeer and Liev Schreiber) blithely playing cat and mouse with muffled voices, playing cards, drinking wine and champagne and attempting to ruin the reputations of their victims with cruel intent.  To dominate.  To humiliate.

Are we at The Ghost of Versailles?   Or is it Don Giovanni?  The dream-like stage design by Tom Scutt with crumbling walls, florescent lights, over size paintings of floral bouquets, chaise- longues and candlelit chandeliers is used to represent “various salons and bedrooms in Paris and the countryside circa 1780.”  Only it doesn’t.  Clearly that is.  Various actors scurry around resetting the furniture while singing or vowel-ing some Baroque music that becomes just plain silly while it becomes increasingly unclear as to where we are and who is doing what to whom.

What is intended to be provocative soon becomes a snooze fest featuring decaying and decadent aristocratic morals.

Janet McTeer a regal, elegant and cold as ice La Marquise de Merteuil has been jilted by yet another young lover (Danceny – Raffi Barsoumian) who is to marry the much younger and just-out-of-the-convent Cecile (Elena Kampouris).

“No way!” says she to her ex-beau Le Vicomte de Valmont (an extremely uncomfortable Liev Schreiber) trying to coerce him into seducing Cecile ruining her for Danceny – promising to bed her ex once again if he is successful.

“No way!” says he – “Too easy,” having set his lecherous eyes and hands on the married and uptight Madame de Tourvel (Birgitte Hjort Sorensen).   And then what do you know? – he seduces both and falls in love with Madame de Tourvel ruining everything.

He pouts.  He drinks.  He’s playing at being a bad boy.  Languidly.  Hardly any fire here.  Especially with his ex-flame that fizzles before us.  Where are the sparks that once ignited between these two?  Where is the sly passion?

She poses.  She confides.  She manipulates.  She looks divine is her gowns by Tom Scutt as do all the women.  But pity Mr. Schreiber with his ill-fitting wig, white hose, period shoes and odd accent looking for the closet exit to escape a part that should be rakish, charming and confident.

You get my drift, I hope.

This most disappointing and unclear production is “Direct from London” from the Donmar Warehouse.  Please pack up the remaining set pieces and return to sender.  At the Booth Theatre through Jan 22nd.


Photo:  Johan Persson

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October 29th, 2016 by Oscar E Moore

Last time round, playwright Mike Bartlett skewered the Royal Family in King Charles III and now has tackled a royal-pain-in-the-ass-family in LOVE, LOVE, LOVE off-Broadway at the Laura Pels – a Roundabout Theatre presentation.

In three relatively short tongue-in-satirical-cheek “all you need is love” themed vignettes separated by two rather long scene changes (sets by Derek McLane) five excellent actors portraying one sympathetic/four loathsome characters spanning the years 1967 – 2010 challenge us to put up with some “me-first mentality.”

Vignette 1 – 1967 London.  A depressing apartment shared by two brothers – a brutish Henry (Alex Hurt in Dustin Hoffman mode) a serious minded bloke who has taken in his carefree, charming brother Kenneth (a rakish Richard Armitage) who cavorts around barefoot and bare-chested drinking and smoking and watching the telly.  Verbal ping pong ensues.  Dialogue is fast and sometimes furious.  And funny.

Both await the arrival of Sandra (Amy Ryan) a pitch perfect sexy free spirit.  Henry has invited her.  She is bringing dinner.  Kenneth has been ordered to stay in his room.  She arrives.  Dressed in a mod mini.  Costumes throughout by Susan Hilferty are spot on.  Kenneth lingers.  Sandra has forgotten the food is very thirsty and very stoned and immediately zeroes in on Kenneth relegating Henry to go fetch some fish and chips.  Poor Henry.

Next we are in an art filled lavish apartment of the 90’s somewhere in London.  A barefoot carefree spirit romps around lip syncing to a tape with a candlestick for a mic – the son of Kenneth and Sandra, Jamie (Ben Rosenfeld) looking and acting very much like his adorable dad.  They are to celebrate his sister Rose’s birthday – as a family.  Close knit?  Not exactly.  It’s a party you won’t soon forget.

Rose, a violin toting, distressed and whiny Zoe Kazan has obvious problems.  Her parents.  They still smoke and drink – a lot.  Well they all have problems.  No last name for this family appears I suppose to protect the guilty.  The parents discuss their affairs openly with the kids and the distinct scent of divorce is in the air.  Happy Birthday!

The final instalment of “movin’ on up” – is in a summer home where obviously a funeral has been attended as Kenneth holds an urn of ashes – lucky Henry.  Rose now 37 finally has it out with her parents.  A bare-chested and seemingly lost Jamie sunbathes outside.  Sandra, now on Facebook and loving it – drinks and smokes to excess.  As usual.

What happened to this family?  Was it genetic?  Was it the drugs?  Was it the booze?  Was it rebellion?  Was it love?  Or was it all a monumental mistake?  Selfishness.  Ego.  Not caring for anyone but themselves.  Perhaps, some folks should never have children if they are going to treat them in this manner.  The kids blame the parents.  The parents blame the kids.  Whose life is it anyway?

The Baby Boomer generation is laid bare in satirical splendor by Mr. Bartlett with laser like direction by Michael Myers.  LOVE, LOVE, LOVE is both entertaining and depressing.  The acting exceptional.  Proceed with caution.

Through Dec 18th.  2 hours 5 minutes with 2 ten minute intermissions.


Photos:  Joan Marcus

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THE FRONT PAGE – starring an ensemble of legendary comedic actors

October 26th, 2016 by Oscar E Moore

Frozen in time.  And that’s how Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur’s THE FRONT PAGE begins under the precise and rapid fire direction of Jack O’Brien who keeps this old war horse alive and kicking.  Each of the three acts begins and ends with a “tableau vivant” captured by a photographer’s startling flash.

And then all comes to life in the Press Room of the Criminal Courts Building, Chicago 1928 where a bunch of tabloid reporters on the police beat play poker, kibitz, smoke, eat and wait.  Wait, for their tickets to witness the hanging of condemned white anarchist Earl Williams (John Magaro) on the gallows next door for killing a black cop.

The many phones are kept busy with the reporters calling in their stories and trying not to trip over the cords while we meet a wild assortment of people that work there – or just happen to drop in.

On a smart, detailed set by Douglass W. Schmidt that includes a Chicago Cubs pennant and risqué girlie pictures plastered on the inside door of the bathroom we await the entrance of the real star of the show Nathan Lane.

We must be patient.  We have to get through lots of exposition and setting up of characters and jokes.  Set-ups that all beautifully pay off.

There is the human interest reporter Bensinger (Jefferson Mays) who is petrified of germs and might be mistaken by some as Nathan Lane as he makes his entrance.  Twice.  Garnering applause as the eager audience awaits Mr. Lane.  Not that Mr. Mays doesn’t deserve it as well.

We meet Hildy Johnson (a debonair and charismatic John Slattery) who is ready to quit, get away from his tyrannical boss Earl Williams (Nathan Lane) and marry his sweetheart and move to New York and enter the world of advertising.

There is the wonderfully dense cop with a strange accent Woodenshoes Eichhorn (Micah Stock). Mollie Malloy (Sherie Rene Scott) the gal of the alleged murderer who has one of the best exits ever witnessed.  Robert Morse as Mr. Pincus – a delayed and somewhat intoxicated messenger who can still steal a scene and Holland Taylor as the mother-in-law-to-be whose hat almost manages to upstage her.  A subdued John Goodman as a crooked Sheriff Hartman seems to be suffering from heartburn.

The list is endless of the legendary and up-and-coming masters of comedy in this incredible ensemble.

Finally towards the end of Act II Mr. Lane arrives like a tornado.  In a role that fits him like a glove.  A boxing glove.  And delivers the goods like a roaring inferno in Act III.  The authors Hecht and MacArthur knew how to plot and write great dialogue.  They start off slowly.  Letting us get accustomed to the newsroom and its inhabitants. Then add delicious bits here and there bringing it up to a simmer and then to an overflowing boiling point of great farce – trying to find and capture the escaped convict.

THE FRONT PAGE is an all-around historical and hysterical document of a bygone era that still resonates today and great for a good many laughs.  The ensemble is truly an ensemble and they are each and every one superb in their individual characterizations.  Go and enjoy.  At The Broadhurst Theatre through January 29th 2017.  2 hours 45 minutes 2 intermissions

Photos:  Julieta Cervantes

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THE CHERRY ORCHARD – is the pits – a waste of time, talent and money

October 22nd, 2016 by Oscar E Moore

In Anton Chekov’s tragic-comedy THE CHERRY ORCHARD aristocratic spendthrift Madame Ranevskaya (a carefree albeit uncomfortable Diane Lane) returns from Paris jilted by her lover only to face foreclosure and some rather large unwanted changes to her lifestyle.

Her beloved cherry orchard and home are to be sold at auction to pay off her debts, which continue to mount.  She resists change.  If only the Roundabout Theatre Company had followed suit.

A blight has befallen this ill-conceived cherry orchard represented by a grouping of Calder-like mobiles (set design:  Scott Pask) hovering over this classic play like a series of modern day sabotaging vultures.  Confusion reigns.  Actors do not connect with one another.  Running hither and thither.  Trying to escape?

Why fiddle with Chekov?  There is no need for a New Version (as opposed to adaptation) by playwright Stephen Karam that meanders all over the place at the American Airlines Theatre.  Unclear.  Tedious.  And yawn inducing.

With a trio of live musicians.  Outlandish costumes (Michael Krass) that morph from period to modern in the course of two acts – the second of which is worse by far than the first.

At the performance I suffered through there was a continuous alarm like sound from backstage that was more disconcerting than the multiracial cast which brings slavery into the forefront resulting in a tribal-like dance of celebration when Lopakhin (Harold Perrineau) a successful businessman buys the property so that he can sub-divide it for summer homes.

And then there is Joel Grey as Firs – the aged, steadfast and loyal servant.  When he first scampers onto the stage he stops dead center – and awaits – and waits – and finally gets – entrance applause.  This really got everything off on the wrong foot.

John Glover as Gaev, Madame’s brother, over emotes in the extreme.  Her two daughters the elder adopted one Varya (Celia Keenan-Bolger) and Anya (Tavi Gevinson) are there reminding us of past performances.

Chuck Cooper (Pischik) a neighbor always looking for a handout from the too willing Madame Ranevskaya appears to be auditioning for the genie in Aladdin.  Tina Benko an overly energetic Charlotta – a governess who does card tricks supplies other distractions as well.  The maid – a klutzy Susannah Flood annoys.  The casting by Jim Carnahan with I assume the approval of British director Simon Godwin is bizarre.

However, Kyle Beltran (Trofimov – a student) is grounded, honest and out of place in this entourage of characters.  As is Quinn Mattfeld – Mr. Misfortune – strumming his guitar and wearing a chicken costume at the musical chairs party scene straight out of Cirque du Soleil.  Through December 4th.

I think it might be interesting to leave you with the Lew Brown lyrics to the song “Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries”

Life is just a bowl of cherries
Don’t take it serious; it’s too mysterious
You work, you save, you worry so
But you can’t take your dough when you go, go, go

So keep repeating it’s the berries
The strongest oak must fall
The sweet things in life, to you were just loaned
So how can you lose what you’ve never owned?
Life is just a bowl of cherries
So live and laugh at it all

OR as the wonderfully gifted artist Mary Engelbreit put it “Life is Just a Chair of Bowlies”


Photos:  Joan Marcus

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SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER – 18th century classic comedy droops to the occasion

October 19th, 2016 by Oscar E Moore

With all due respect my funny bone failed mightily to be tickled by this 18th century classic comedy of manners from the plumed quill of Oliver Goldsmith – adapted and directed by Scott Alan Evans – now cavorting at the Clurman Theatre a TACT production through November 5th.

With limited resources and excellent actors The Actors Company Theatre usually presents first- rate productions.  This time out they have bitten off more than they can chew.  It’s a little bit of this and a little bit of that.  A merry band of actors presenting this play in a carefree manner.

We first hear birds chirping, dogs barking and cows mooing.  Then the company sings an original song touting TACT and mugs for sale and introducing SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER playing instruments – and we are off.  With lots of exposition that falls flat.

Prop pieces are set to the sides of the acting area.  Actors when offstage are visible watching the preposterous goings on by their fellow actors whose accents are uneven.  The plot at times is ludicrous.

Mr. Hardcastle (John Rothman) has invited Charles Marlow (Jeremy Beck) the son of his best friend Sir Charles Marlowe (James Prendergast) and Charles’ friend Hastings (Tony Roach) to his home.  Charles is to meet his chosen intended Kate Hardcastle (Mairin Lee).

At an inn they meet Tony Lumpkin (Richard Theiriot) the son of Mrs. Hardcastle (Cynthia Darlow) by her first husband who misdirects them to the Hardcastle home telling them it is a wonderful inn.  And nearby.  When they arrive they act in an awful manner.

Mrs. Hardcastle wants her son Tony to wed her ward and his cousin Constance (Justine Salata) to keep her jewels in the family.

The ultra-shy Charles meets Kate and just about vibrates with fright.  Near the end of Act I “SHE” (Kate) decides to “STOOP” to conquer Charles by disguising herself as a barmaid (with an apron!). He then treats her lovingly.

Tony won’t marry Constance – he is “not of age” and dislikes her.  She has fallen for Hastings.  Got all that?

Act II fares better.  Except for the embarrassing moment when an audience member is chosen for a bit part.

What is absent is a consistent style.  And any semblance of elegance.  Speaking “Asides” to an audience takes a special talent that is hard to master and difficult for today’s audience to accept and follow.  Especially with the dysfunctional family and friends of what is also known as THE MISTAKES OF A NIGHT.

Enough said.  Except for the “not of age” business of Tony.  Mr. Thieriot is a rascal and charming and full of mischievous life.  However, it is difficult to accept that he becomes of age – a man – over twenty one – in the course of this evening.  That alone is a big mistake hard to swallow.  A rare revival indeed.


Photos: Marielle Solan

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HEISENBERG – not much meat on the bone

October 18th, 2016 by Oscar E Moore


Two chairs.  Two tables.  Two actors.  80 minutes.  No intermission.  Additional tiered bleacher onstage seating added.  Long narrow acting area.  Is this a table tennis match we are about to see at the MTC production of HEISENBERG at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre?

Perhaps.  The intriguing title by its author Simon Stephens who is best known for his hit play “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night” refers to German physicist Werner Heisenberg’s “uncertainty principle.”  There is a “fuzziness in nature” about how things will behave.

In this instance 75 year old low key Alex Priest (Denis Arndt) and 40 something hyper Georgie Burns (Mary-Louise Parker) the oddest of odd couples in an odd play – or rather character study of an English butcher and an American in England who may or may not be what she says she is.  An assassin?  A waitress?  A photographer?  A woman in search of her son?

As she chatters away in a series of short vignettes do we really care?  Ominous music and abrupt light cues signal the scene changes.

Starting in a train station (use your imagination) where quirky Georgie has seen and kissed Alex on the neck (we do not see this) she proceeds to confuse him and us as she prattles on in a somewhat reminiscent style of Diane Keaton.  She baits.  She flirts.  She curses.  I wondered why he stays as long as he does with this odd woman and then he abruptly leaves.  Good.

Next we find him in his butcher shop (imagine again) when she arrives having discovered where he works.  Is she a stalker as well?  This continues for a while and we wonder why there are no customers – and then this is summarily addressed by Mr. Stephens.

For some odd reason Alex becomes interested besides being bewildered by her.  She draws him out and into bed.  I will stop here with their developing affair.  There is a bit more here than meets the eye but it is pretty slim pickens.  At best it’s interesting.

In my review of “The Snow Geese” I berated Mary-Louise Parker for her lack of projection.  She has been hard at work it seems and her vocals are A plus.  Mr. Arndt doesn’t fare as well.

His part is less flashy but we miss lots of what he has to say – perhaps due to the odd staging by director Mark Brokaw who has his actors contorting themselves to be fair to the members of the audience both on stage and in the house.

It’s an odd choice.  All around.  Perhaps HEISENBERG would be better served off-Broadway where it originated.  And less expensive for a pound of would-be steak where there isn’t much meat on the bone.


Photos: Joan Marcus

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