Oscar E Moore

Never could I ever imagine that I would refer to a musical score by Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick as forgettable.  FIORELLO! was my very first Broadway musical and I can still see it in my mind’s eye.  It was that unforgettable.  TENDERLOIN, SHE LOVES ME and their masterpiece FIDDLER ON THE ROOF followed.   Each having wonderful and memorable scores.

But there is a time for everything and so sadly I report that the songs written first for THE ROTHCHILDS (1970) and now for this misguided and reimagined production newly renamed ROTHSCHILD & SONS leaves one wondering what went wrong.

Sherman Yellen has “significantly” revised his original book (based on the book by Frederick Morton) from a two act production with over 40 actors to a single dull elongated one act version (performed without an intermission) for 11 actors that is now at The York Theatre until November 8^th

Not only was I disenchanted with this lackluster linear production on Saturday’s matinee but when I went to leave the infamous elevator was once again OUT OF SERVICE – upstaging the show.

Several patrons with walkers and one wheel chair bound man were left stranded in the lobby as a “talk back” was taking place or perhaps they were doing some sort of interview on stage.  I have written to the proper authorities about this inexcusable situation.  It seems that there is no alternative route of escape for disabled people.

And so what is more important?  A mediocre production or the safety of those people who come to support the York?

I imagine everyone would be in favor of elevator safety than what I have to report on this show but here is my take.

Robert Cuccioli is given an A for effort in his portrayal of Mayer Rothschild a German/Jew peddler in Frankfurt who sires five sons so that they can continue the family business -indoctrinating them into doing what he thought best.  He was ambitious, aggressive and a risk taker.  And expected no less from all his sons.  He was successful in turning a ghetto coin business into a huge financial empire.  This is their story.  Remarkably bland – all things considered.

His dream to secure a declaration of rights for European Jews does happen.  And for that alone we should be grateful for Rothschild’s persistence and fortitude.

It is staged to numbing effect by Jeffrey B. Moss.

Photos:  Carol Rosegg

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www.yorktheatre.org

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Growing old gracefully wasn’t what D. L. Coburn had in mind when he wrote THE GIN GAME a drama/comedy for two aging actors – a slight, funny yet moving play that mysteriously won a Pulitzer Prize in 1978.

Dealing with life in a nursing home when no one comes to visit, having to give up your life’s savings and your dignity, staring into space day after day and accepting the aches and pains of life after a certain age are some of the situations the playwright tackles as two oddly matched patients meet and develop a relationship over a deck of cards.

This ramshackle home for the aged has seen better days as have its inhabitants.  Looking like it’s ready to hold a yard sale for wheel chairs, walkers and canes we meet Weller Martin (a steadfast and blustery James Earl Jones) – a grumpy and cynical man who has trouble walking – his maladies being old age and an obsession with playing and winning gin rummy.

A new girl at the home shuffles into his life – Fonsia Dorsey (a remarkable Cicely Tyson) fragile, well kept, clutching her handbag and suffering from diabetes who turns out to be a feisty and formidable opponent in the game of cards that Weller teaches her to pass the time of day.

She is a quick learner and an even quicker winner.  Much to his growing frustration and anger she wins every game, swooping in to take his discarded cards and beating him at his own game.  In more ways than one.  Playing cards relaxes her.  Playing to win raises his blood pressure to a boiling point.  That’s about it.

Variations on how she says “Gin!” every time she wins is priceless.  As is her attempt to soften up Weller.  She does get him to reluctantly dance on the porch – flirting like a young girl and losing about thirty years in the process.

We discover what makes each of them truly tick.  It’s interesting and quite entertaining.  But slight.  Without two expert actors we would be left with only a deck of cards.  With pros like James Earl Jones and Cicely Tyson we are the winners – getting to eavesdrop on two expert performers at the height of their game eventually bringing out the best and the worst of each other.

THE GIN GAME is nicely directed by Leonard Foglia.  Riccardo Hernandez has done an excellent job with costumes and scenic design.  At the Golden Theatre.  Through Jan 10th

www.thegingamebroadway.com

Photo credit:  Joan Marcus

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Hop on board!  You’ve never been on a journey like this.  Ever.  And I advise you to book passage immediately in this KEEN COMPANY production at The Clurman Theatre at Theatre Row ONLY THROUGH NOVEMBER 14^th.

TRAVELS WITH MY AUNT based on the 1969 novel of the same name by Graham Greene and brilliantly adapted by Giles Havergal (1989) for four men is astonishing.  You read that right – four MEN – one of whom portrays Aunt Augusta and her nephew Henry with the other three portraying Henry and a slew of other unforgettable and totally believable characters.

The ensemble of expert thespians are: Thomas Jay Ryan, Jay Russell, Dan Jenkins and Rory Kulz.  Bravo to one and all.

Guided by the imaginative Jonathan Silverstein this production is a theatrical banquet, full of savory characters and delicious wit leaving one completely sated.  Even if it is a tad long.  I’ve discovered there is a shorter 50 minute version out there but that would be too short.  A happy medium would make this two act version shorter by about fifteen minutes.

It is performed straight.  No camp here.  And the story will keep you enthralled as you witness the slight-of-hand that each actor accomplishes as he switches character in the blink of an eye.  Different ages, different genders, different accents (even a dog) – all done so smoothly you can’t imagine how they will keep it going.  Yet they do.  Beautifully.

As we enter there are four vacant black chairs on stage in front of a nondescript building that is in front of a scalloped curtain.  Lights down.  When they come up four gentlemen dressed exactly alike looking very much the British banker – 3 piece black suit, watch fob and black bowler hat commence the story of Henry Pulling and his Aunt Augusta which takes them on a journey hither and yon.  Full of surprises.  Smuggling.  Police.  And the CIA.

Aunt Augusta an independent witty woman married many times over is torn between her present lover Wordsworth and Visconti.  Intrigue follows both Augusta and Henry as they leave England on The Orient Express to meet up with Abdul in Istanbul – hitting Paris and Paraguay along the way.

The set (Steven C. Kemp) is like an Advent Christmas Calendar – with surprise secret compartments opening up for props and the like.  Sound and light cues abound but never intrude with the actors as they engage us in this engaging story with a surprise and endearing ending.

Miming is of the essence.  Case in point.  When Mr. Ryan as Augusta removes her hat.  She first removes an invisible hat pin.  Details like this are truly scrumptious.  As is the entire invigorating production.

www.KeenCompany.org

Photo Credit – Carol Rosegg

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As a devoted fan of Nina Arianda I looked forward to seeing this first Broadway joint production (Manhattan Theatre Club in association with Williamstown Theatre Festival) of Sam Shepard’s FOOL FOR LOVE first produced in 1983.  She does not disappoint.  Going full throttle on all cylinders she is the distraught May, mate of long time missing former lover Eddie (Sam Rockwell).  She needs him and loves him and wants him to stay and then just as quickly to go then stay again – to fill her empty life no matter what she says.

And she says a lot in this 75 minute saga that takes place in a seedy motel room where you can almost smell the mildew – somewhere in the Mojave Desert.  She also speaks volumes with her wild mane of hair as she grapples with Eddie both physically and verbally – attempting to sort out her complicated relationship with him that usually ends the same way when they part.  Depending on which one is telling the story.

Eddie is a cowboy.  Fit and lanky and ready to lasso May in again as he returns after a too long absence.  He also is a story teller and a drinker.  May is on the wagon but not for long as she waits for her “date” to arrive.   It’s a love hate relationship ready to continue a cycle that should have been broken about fifteen years ago.

Who is telling the truth?  Cause when the truth hurts too much – one sometimes resorts to telling lies.  It’s a he said – she said type of thing they have going which makes for some mighty fine and fierce dialogue and slamming doors.

When the unsuspecting Martin (Tom Pelphrey) arrives they are in full throttle.  Trying to recover, May retreats for a very prolonged and hard to believe stay in the bathroom while Eddie “baits” the easy going and naïve Martin with his version of who he is and what his relationship to May might be allowing for some humor to creep in.

Now here is the fly in the ointment.  Off to the side of the stage sits The Old Man (Gordon Joseph Weiss) staring into space while sitting almost frozen in an armchair who becomes a sort of Greek chorus – commenting and giving his thoughts on these two lovers who may be even more closely related to one another.  Giving the love factor an ick factor.

May and Eddie erupt every so often.  A bewildered Martin – a regular guy who does yard work tries to take it all in, coping as best he can but he is in far deeper than he ever expected.  More than just going to the movies with May.

Trying to undo the mess of her life May is forever trying to straighten out the sheets on her bed – to no avail.  Her bed and her life remain a mess.

Great acting.  Great chemistry between May and Eddie.  The play itself isn’t totally satisfying.  Straightforward direction by Daniel Aukin and excellent fight sequences by David S. Leong.  At The Samuel J. Friedman Theatre.

www.manhattantheatreclub.com

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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A spacecraft named OLD TIMES has landed at the American Airlines Theatre helmed by Douglas Hodge and carrying as its messengers Clive Owen, Eve Best and Kelly Reilly.  Penned by Harold Pinter.  And it is over before you know what happens.

Running a mere 65 minutes it is never boring.  As you try to figure the enigma that you are witnessing as strobe lights flash in your eyes and a turntable revolves ever so slowly.

Other worldly music (Thom Yorke) greets the audience as we enter – or should I say annoys the eardrums of the audience as the curtain goes up on this Twilight Zone inspired Roundabout production.  Cavernous set by Christine Jones.  It’s the first Broadway production of this play first confounding audiences in 1971.

Your guess as to what it means is as good as mine.  Is it a riff on Noel Coward’s Private Lives?    Is it a dream?  Is it a group therapy session?  Is it the real turtle soup or merely the mock?

There is an armchair on which sits Deeley a handsome specimen of manhood Clive Owen, torn between two attractive and troubled women:  His wife Kate (Kelly Reilly) and her only friend that she has not seen in twenty years – Anna (Eve Best) perched atop two matching purple divans (thus the shrink reference).

They drink coffee and brandy.  They smoke.  They banter.  They pause.  They give one another telling glances while keeping from us what it is they are trying to communicate with each other.  They pose in stylized Zombie mode.  They pause.  Giving us pause for thought.  They seem bored.  They seem ready to have sex.  They are waiting for something to happen.  Lots of mention of death.  The word hot is oft heard.

Kate leaves to take a bath and chatterbox Anna chatters on.  Too bad her projection is not as clear as her companions on stage.

Then they sing snippets of “She’s Funny That Way”  “I Get a Kick Out of You” and “These Foolish Things.”

Enough said.

Limited engagement through November 29^th.

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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Make a fist as if you are about to knock on a door.  Then air-knock once with your fist.  You’ve just signed “yes” in American Sign Language (ASL).  And I could use this sign until my knuckles were raw to praise this volcanic and emotionally draining revival of SPRING AWAKENING brilliantly conceived and directed by Michael Arden using singing and hearing impaired actors using sign language simultaneously with inspired choreography by Spencer Liff in the amazing DEAF WEST THEATRE production of this Steven Sater/Duncan Sheik landmark rock musical based on the once banned play by Frank Wedekind.

Germany 1891.  The angst ridden teens – strictly separated – have one thing in common.  Sex.  Thinking about it.  Dreaming about it.  Not even knowing sometimes why they are thinking and dreaming about it.  Only that it is forbidden.  And taking it into one’s own hands to tragic consequences for some.

A young girl Wendla (Sandra Mae Frank/voice of Wendla – Katie Boeck) is blossoming into womanhood without an explanation from her mother (Camryn Manheim – who does her own signing) – thinking that a stork still delivers babies.  A mother who has her own designs on a young male pianist.

A not very excellent student – Moritz (Daniel N. Durant/voice of Moritz Alex Boniello) is under pressure from his father (Russell Harvard) to succeed at all costs.  Being bullied into being the best.

Being gay is verboten.  But makes for a lovely scene between Ernst (Joshua A. Castille/voice of Ernst – understudy Van Hughes for Daniel David Stewart) and Hanschen (Andy Mientus) who wastes no time is beating around the bush but takes life firmly into his own hand.

Shame.  Guilt.  Pain.  Going to extreme lengths to feel something.  Drugs.  Frustration.  Abortion.  These teens are ready to explode.  And they do.  Rocking to “The Bitch of Living” “My Junk”  “Touch Me” and a show stopping “Totally Fucked.”  All songs expressing the inner feeling of the characters with a throbbing pulsating beat.

Some scenes are totally silent.  With words projected above.  Haunting and extremely moving.

Other standouts in this amazing ensemble are Patrick Page, Krysta Rodriguez, Alex Wyse, Treshelle Edmond and Marlee Matlin.   But it is the group effort of all the actors that make SPRING AWAKENING a resounding success.

See it.  Yes, see it.  Limited run through January 24^th.  Brooks Atkinson Theatre

Photos:  Joan Marcus

Visit www.TalkEntertainment.com

www.springawakeningthemusical.com

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A breath of romantic fresh air is wafting through the Davenport Theatre on West 45^th Street, where the intimate chamber musical DADDY LONG LEGS based on the should-be-more-famous novel by Jean Webster is percolating and spreading its innumerable charms.  Letter writing – of the hand written type – might just become a la mode once again.

Thankfully this production helmed by director John Caird (also the author of the book) quietly simmers and then sparkles – having little to do with the film musical starring Fred Astaire and Leslie Caron – which was very loosely based on the same source material.  Very loosely.

Mr. Caird has done a masterful job as has the entire creative team in bringing this sweet, honest, touching, witty and intelligent love story to life with a subtle score by Paul Gordon (music and lyrics) that slowly weaves its tunes to magical effect.  By the end of Act II you will be enthralled and enthusiastically in love with love once again.

Jerusha Abbott (Megan McGinnis) – the oldest orphan of the John Grier Home is anonymously befriended by Jervis Pendleton (Paul Alexander Nolan) to further her education.  Requiring that they never meet and that she update him monthly in the form of a letter that he need not answer.

It is through these letters (he eventually gives in answering but using an alias) that their relationship develops.  We see her blossom from a naïve young lass who is hungry for knowledge to a confident young woman confiding in this man whom she has nicknamed Daddy Long Legs.  In turn we see a man grappling with his feelings for her and how he slyly manages to make her dreams come true.

There are nods to A. R. Gurney’s LOVE LETTERS and the musicals ONCE and SHE LOVES ME in its thematic material but DADDY LONG LEGS stands on its own two feet.  It’s a beautiful production of a small, quiet show with an enormous heart.

The scenic design – a wood paneled library, a desk, and various mobile trunks (that house some lovely costumes) by David Farley is just right.

Megan McGinnis with an infectious smile and a head full of cork screw curls is the perfect foil for Paul Alexander Nolan who has a gorgeous voice that is strong yet sensitive to his feelings.  They are a perfect match.  Especially when harmonizing in their duets arranged with great emotional impact by Brad Haak.

Let this show seep into your heart and allow yourself the time to readjust to its mellow pace.  You will be rewarded with going home with the secret of happiness.

Open-ended run.

Photos:  Jeremy Daniel

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www.daddylonglegsmusical.com

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Georgia McBride.  Never heard of her?  Neither did I – until Matthew Lopez’s imagination decided to document her rise to stardom from Elvis impersonator in a seedy Florida dive in downtown Panama City, Florida to morphing into a drag diva in this genuinely entertaining, flamboyant and honest to goodness heartfelt play with music running at the Lucille Lortel Theatre through October 11th.

She is a he – Casey (a wonderful transformative Dave Thomas Brown) a straight guy down and almost out and broke. Trying to make ends meet with his waitress wife Jo (Afton Williamson) whom he adores and just happens to be pregnant.

Casey’s Elvis act is not generating any business much to the dismay of bar owner Eddie (Wayne Duvall) and so he recruits the services of his dressed to impress cousin Tracy (an astounding Matt McGrath) who performs in drag, lip-synching to tunes made famous by real women while wearing colorful gowns and wigs with his mostly drunken and tart tongued partner Rexy (Keith Nobbs) relegating Casey to tend bar. We root for him and them – all the way.

When a soused Rexy can’t go on – Casey is enlisted to don Edith Piaf drag. And right before our amazed eyes, in true Broadway tradition – the show does go on. With the help of a great on stage crew Casey is transformed – many times over into Georgia McBride who becomes a bar favorite. The newfangled act turns into a very profitable enterprise to everyone’s surprise.

The finely tuned, clockwork direction by Mike Donahue, the exciting choreography by Paul McGill, the big-air wigs by Jason Hayes, the over-the-top costumes by Anita Yavich, lighting design by Ban Stanton, sound design by Jill BC Du Boff and the detailed all-purpose set (Donyale Werle) make this show a hoot and a half. However, the musical numbers could benefit from a nip and tuck here and there.

So very well constructed by Mr. Lopez you might not at first catch that Keith Nobbs doubles as Rexy and Jason – friend and landlord to Casey and Jo. You’ve never seen so many costume changes nor enjoyed so many laughs, nor been impressed by the versatility of each actor as Casey faces the fact that he thoroughly enjoys finding his inner drag persona while keeping it all a secret from his wife until…

The Legend of Georgia McBride is sure to become one.

No intermission. Love conquers all.

Photos: Joan Marcus

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www.mcctheater.org

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A mythical musical where mayhem reigns after the death of a Pope – takes place at Theatre 80 and not the Sistine Chapel as stated in the program of this new musical written entirely by Adam Overett.  It isn’t blessed.  In fact, it’s like spending an eternity in Purgatory.

Actually it’s about 90 minutes without intermission where there are 7 wannabe-popes vying for the newly vacated position. The cardinals – both male and female – straight and gay – of various ethnic backgrounds and questionable qualifications arrive to Vatican City singing their hearts out about how each should be the one voted to become the next pope over a sound system straight from hell.

Trouble is that Mr. Overett has reached far beyond his qualifications in penning this opus and hasn’t really decided on its tone or what the show should really be about. The music is perky with vamp after vamp, vamping under the dialogue that is forced funny. There is a gospel number, a Ten Commandments number and many other forgettable numbers (no listing of songs). And a serious, love song between two male cardinals. It is their relationship that is the core of this madcap show and the only people we care about.

Here is the list of contenders: Cardinal McCafferty (Stephen Christopher Anthony) the most pious and honest who holds back his closeted gay feelings for Cardinal Bergenstein (David Perlman) the admittedly gay Jewish Cardinal (don’t ask). They are both excellent and handle themselves well despite being surrounded by stereotypical Cardboard Cardinals.

For instance and this is the worst offender – the over-the-top evil Cardinalissimo Francisco Franco (Rachel Coloff) – costumed to look like Quasimodo and screaming and shouting her lines with a heavy Italian accent – with a lisp. Her sidekick Cardinal Wallaby (Susan J. Jacks) is simply annoying.

Then there is Cardinal Hu-Jin Chao (Jason Veasey) for some calmness. Cardinal Fouette (Lucas Thompson) a flamboyant mute ballet dancer. Cardinal Robin (Alexa Green) a brash white trash, gum chewing South Jersey Shore cussing sort who might want to consult with costumer designer DW. And finally Cardinal St. Louis (Danette Holden) a southern belle who gets to belt out the Gospel Number.

There are three overly long and terribly unfunny challenges for the contestants wanting to become Pope before one is elected. Who will it be? If this sounds like fun to you – pay a visit and then go directly to confession.

Directed and choreographed by Drew Geraci.

Photo:  Jay Sullivan

Art Work:  Or Gotham

www.facebook.com/Popesical

www.FringeNYC.org

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This 1921 obtuse, dense, bizarre, depressing, esoteric and epic 434 line poem by T. S. Eliot has been dramatized and directed by the brothers Domig: concept/installation by Daniel and performed by Christopher who is an excellent actor and the main reason I went to see this theatrical thesis.

Christopher Domig is a compelling actor. A brave actor. Fully committed. Doing challenging work that challenges his audience. Tackling T. S. Eliot’s THE WASTE LAND is a daunting task. It’s not easily understood or accessible.

It’s a far cry from Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats immortalized by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

I first discovered Mr. Domig in 2007 in another Fringe Festival work. A monologue. DIRT. He gave “a dazzling performance” I wrote in my review. “Powerful, mesmerizing and thoroughly enthralling in a somewhat confusing narrative. – The eyes of Christopher Domig convey it all – the heartbreak, the fury, the isolation, the loneliness of an illegal immigrant just trying to fit in.”

History repeats itself at 64E4 Underground. He is still mesmerizing despite the subject matter. Wearing a tux sans socks he delivers this rambling monologue for 55 minutes, meticulously rearranging the table and two chairs and interacting with a ghostlike head on a stick – sometimes crawling on the floor covered with sawdust, sometimes atop the table or underneath all the while spouting words that we try to digest.

It’s as though the poem is a giant puzzle that he is trying to put together.

One woman discreetly left about ten minutes in. Another yawned – progressively growing impatient, frustrated and fidgety. Surprisingly there were two youngsters (aged 7 – I asked). One was curled up in her mother’s lap. The young boy attentive. After the performance I asked him if he understood the play. “Some.” Did he like the acting? “Oh, yes.” There we are.

I suppose it’s never too early to introduce Eliot. Perhaps by the time he’s my age he’ll understand what’s going on.

I do hope that one day soon I see Christopher Domig in a show worthy of his talent.

Photos:Thomas Weitzman

www.wastelandproject.com

www.FringeNYC.org

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