Oscar E Moore

The Greek goddess of dance and song – Terpsichore – is smiling her Greek goddess head off as is anyone else who gets to see this spectacular new Gershwin musical inspired – and I do mean inspired by the 1951 film that was inspired by George Gershwin’s 1928 AN AMERICAN IN PARIS orchestral composition.  Wow!  And double wow!

There aren’t enough superlatives to describe what is happening on stage at the Palace Theatre.  All of the necessary elements for a hit musical have fallen into place under the mighty direction and brilliant and inventive, amusing, jazzy, athletic and love instilled choreography of Christopher Wheeldon.

Had I been invited to invest and had I the resources to do so I would have gladly and immediately written a check with many many zeros to have a piece of this delectable French pastry filled with love.  It is simply scrumptious.  And I recommend that you high tail it to the Palace and book your tickets.  It’s a production that is to be savored over and over again.

A lone piano sits on a bare stage.  In a war torn Paris the Nazis are finally gone and the city slowly tries to recapture its life.  Our narrator is Adam Hochberg (Brandon Uranowitz).  A nebbish with a dark sense of humor and a big heart filled with empathy.  A realist. A composer working on a new ballet who has a limp as a result of the war dreaming of success with his new ballet for the company’s newest star Lise Dassin (Leanne Cope).

Adam befriends Jerry Mulligan, an American soldier (Robert Fairchild) who decides to stay in Paris to pursue his dream of being an artist and Henri Baurel (Max von Essen) who desperately wants to go to America and become a “song and dance” star – keeping his dream a secret from his father (Victor J. Wisehart) and his uptight bourgeois mother (Veanne Cox) who wants him to marry Lise.  All three men unbeknownst to each other fall in love with Lise and sing a wondrous “’S Wonderful.”  It’s sublime!

A chic, rich American woman, Milo Davenport (Jill Paice) is looking to open an art gallery with the help of Madame Baurel (Henri’s mom) and discovers Jerry and his art.  She believes that with her cash she can keep Jerry all to herself.  But money can’t buy love as the saying goes…

Those are the main characters.  All perfectly cast.  All top-notch.  Allowing Mr. Wheeldon and his enormously talented creative team to put them and the plot into action.  And that he does with élan.

Robert Fairchild and Leanne Cope are made for each other as the young lovers looking for love.  They are your dream couple.  Natural actors who can sing well and dance with grace and style, enjoying every moment on stage and sharing it with us.  It’s a great gift they send over the footlights.

The sets and costumes by Bob Crowley are magnificent.  His set pieces are integrated so well that they too dance gracefully across the stage with fantastic modern day projections to bring us up to date in the design department.

And then there is the gorgeous music and lyrics of the Gershwin bothers – George and Ira.  What a thrill to hear the songs and how well they have been placed into the book by Craig Lucas.  No shoe horns needed.  They flow as if written specifically for this production with Rob Fisher’s fabulous arrangements to excite and bewitch.

AN AMERICAN IN PARIS is a monumental achievement with endless surprises in store for all those who visit to share all the love on stage at the Palace Theatre.  It’s a totally joyous experience.

www.anamericaninparisbroadway.com

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Photos:  Angela Sterling

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Forget the novella by Colette.  She must be reeling in her grave.  Forget Audrey Hepburn.  Hard to do.  But necessary.  Forget the Oscar winning movie starring Leslie Caron, Louis Jourdan and Maurice Chevalier and his wonderful rendition of “Thank Heaven for Little Girls” that has been handed over to Gigi’s grandmother and aunt to be politically correct.  The insinuations are still there.  And while we’re at it you might as well forget this badly cast, beautiful to look at but hard to listen to production at the Neil Simon Theatre that to put it bluntly and to quote one of the songs from the Lerner and Lowe score “It’s a Bore.”

The young Gigi (a miscast shrill Vanessa Hudgens) has been brought up by Grand-mama Mamita – a simple and loving and ravishing Victoria Clark.  She is the only reason to see this production.  Her acting is superb and grounded.  Her voice gorgeous.  Late in the second act she gets to sing the lovely “Say a Prayer” and finally we care.  Her other numbers are also highlights.  The famous duet “I Remember It Well” and “I’m Glad I’m Not Young Anymore” sung with a hard working Howard McGillin who portrays Honore – a womanizer who instructs his wealthy and bored nephew Gaston to “have more affairs.”  Women are made to be mistresses and are a centime a dozen in this Paris of 1900.

What’s a young girl to do?  Mamita wants Gigi to follow in her footsteps.  Aunt Alicia (a droll Dee Hoty) – herself a kept woman tries to instill the same values that she believes in.  Finding a rich man or men to give her jewels and money and stability with marriage taking a backseat.

Gaston (a too contemporary Corey Scott) is involved with Liane d’Exelmans (Steffanie Leigh) a chanteuse and when she dumps him he attempts suicide.  He spends lots of time with Gigi – like a sister and brother until her hem drops and her hair is swept up and he sees her in a different light and falls for her and she for him and we don’t really care as they don’t click in the chemistry department unless you are looking for a Disney type coupling.

The scenic design by Derek McLane and sumptuous costumes (and hats) by Catherine Zuber are superb.  Bringing back fond memories of “The Ascot Gavotte” from MY FAIR LADY a far superior score by Lerner and Lowe.

It’s a lopsided affair as rewritten by Heidi Thomas.  The men are more important and those young girls coming to see Ms. Hudgens will find her stage time pretty scant.  There is a satirical slant to boot with “The Gossips” and “The Lawyers” that is at odds with the naturalness of Ms. Clark.

There are some fine moments of choreography by Joshua Bergasse who did a far better job with ON THE TOWN.  Eric Schaefer has directed this uneven production that instead of sparkling simply fizzles.  www.gigionbroadway.com

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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Bring a pillow.  Not that you will need it to rest your head due to boredom – although boredom does have its moments in this Royal Shakespeare Company production based on the popular novels by Hilary Mantel and adapted by Mike Poulton – but for back support.  Each two act drama runs just under three hours each and if you do a double-header your back may ache and your mind may be running on overdrive to absorb all that is presented on stage at the Winter Garden – even with a dinner break.

There’s plenty of action with its cast of twenty three directed with cinematic fluidity by Jeremy Herrin – the staging is as fast as turning a page in one of Ms. Mantel’s epic novels.

Both for actors and audience WOLF HALL is a dark endurance test with plenty of mist and fog effects (enough to induce coughs) enacted on an open set that appears more Tower of London that opulent Castle with costumes done in a palette of gray and dreary earth tones (designed by Christopher Oram).

Especially for the excellent Ben Miles who in on stage seemingly throughout without a break as Thomas Cromwell.   Son of a blacksmith, lawyer, master negotiator and arriviste.

It is he who is the main focus in this variation on the Henry VIII (Nathaniel Parker) and his wives bit of English history saga.  Henry needs an heir.  A son.  He wants to rid himself of wife number one – Katherine of Aragon (Lucy Briers) after twenty years who has only provided him with a daughter – the fragile Princess Mary (Leah Brotherhead).  Katherine had been married to Henry’s brother and when he died Henry popped into her bed.  Now he wants to replace her with the canny and cunning flat-chested Anne Boleyn (a mean and ruthless Lydia Briers).  With Ms. Briers shrewish portrayal there is little charm involved and one wonders what Henry was attracted to…

I’ll cut to the chase here.  She will not be his mistress she will be Queen and “promises” Henry a son.  She wins.  They wed after a lot of problems with the Pope and Anne’s rumored penchant for spells and charms and young handsome men.   She bears him a child.  Another daughter.  And two still born sons.  And so Henry, despondent and thinking God has somehow put the double whammy on him, espies the simple Jane Seymour (Leah Brotherhead redux) of Wolf Hall.  End of Part One.

After stretching my legs and a wonderful meal at PERGOLA DES ARTISTES on 46^th Street we pick up where we left off.  Henry in hot pursuit of Jane and attempting to legally rid himself of Anne by digging up dirt on her by having Cromwell who has managed well up to this point interview the past beaus of Anne including her brother George (Edward Harrison) for their rumored incestuous relationship.  It’s a complicated affair and this is where you might nod off.

Of course we all know she gets her head chopped off – not seen – and Henry marries the ulta shy and simple Jane Seymour.  Cliffhanger here.  Does she have a son?  Perhaps that will be explained in the next three hour installment which I shall gladly skip.

There are some court dances, some bits of humor and a joust that almost kills the King, the very much alive Cardinal Wolsey (Paul Jesson) and his ghost and the rest of the Tudor clan that almost bring this story to life.

You may want to tune in to the PBS version based on the same source material.  It’s much less expensive.  In fact, it’s free.

Limited engagement.

Photos: Johan Persson

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What are we to make of this play?  A wordy play that deals with class differences, pasta with a Bolognese sauce (cooked on stage) and a couple of people (one much older than other) who at one time had a six year love affair that went sour when the wife of the much older man discovered what was happening causing said mistress to suddenly depart the family (she’d been living with them) and make a new life for herself giving up her comfy lifestyle to teach underprivileged children.

It’s been a year since the wife died – propped up on pillows and looking up through a skylight – and three years since the break-up when on a frigid, snowy night in London the much older man – Tom Sergeant (Bill Nighy) a wealthy restauranteur reappears to try to rekindle what they once had in the dreary flat called home to Kyra (Carey Mulligan) where she trots around barefoot.

Unfortunately we cannot accept that they ever had much of anything going on between them.  He is an egoist and used to getting his own way and I believe he doesn’t care very much for women in general.  I guess he’s lonely.  He is also all tics and twitches.  With a pouty lower lip.  Wound up tighter than an alarm clock.  And as portrayed by Mr. Nighy extremely Shakespearean – poses and all.  It becomes annoying.

Prior to his entrance we meet Edward Sergeant (Matthew Beard) who has inherited the tic gene from daddy.  Bringing Kyra some CD’s and wanting to know why she so abruptly departed.  They have more of a relationship that pays off nicely at the end of this drama.

Back to daddy.  He has brought along his own whiskey and his bad and superior attitude – berating Kyra and her small heater criticizing almost everything about her including her newfound ideals – how did she ever fall madly in love with this ogre is beyond comprehension.  Maybe she was lonely?  They argue a lot.  About everything.  Past and present.

In any event the inevitable happens.  At the end of Act I they are hugging and when next we see them it is 2:30 a.m. after the sex – which doesn’t calm either one of them down and Tom who kept his coat on most of Act I is now also trotting around barefoot.

There is much said about the cold and the snow that is falling that we don’t and should see on the set by Bob Crowley.  It is only in the final moments that we see some snow falling.  But it is the audience that is getting the snow job here.  It’s difficult to digest that Stephen Daldry directed this production after doing such an excellent job with THE AUDIENCE.

SKYLIGHT first appeared on Broadway in 1996.  Let sleeping dogs lie.  At the Golden Theatre.

Limited engagement.

www.skylightbwy.com

Photo:  John Haynes

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There are some second tier musicals from the past that have been crying out to be revived when all the stars are aligned.  And by stars I mean people stars, not celestial stars.  In this case the entire cast of ON THE TWENTIETH CENTURY – starring the brightest star of all Kristin Chenoweth – a beautiful lyric soprano/belter who positively glows, radiating charm and comedy in this excellent production of the uneven, sometimes mad-cap sometimes boring 1978 show written by Betty Comden and Adolph Green (book and lyrics) Cy Coleman (music).  Surprising it won a couple of Tony Awards.  It was a so-so season for musicals that year.

Ms. Chenoweth was all of ten years old when this operetta-like screw-ball inspired comedy opened on Broadway and it appears that she was born to play the role of Mildred Plotka (an extremely amusing piano accompanist) who in flashback and within minutes is hired by director Oscar Jaffee (an excellent Peter Gallagher – in his best Barrymore mode with strong vocals) to star in his latest opus as Lily Garland – as in Judy.  They sort of fall in love.  He makes her a star.

Back to the future.  Oscar is fleeing Chicago where he has had another opening another closing (during intermission) and people are after him.  Again.  His other two side-kick Musketeers Oliver Webb (Mark Linn-Baker) and Owen O’Malley (Michael McGrath) are to book Suite A on the Twentieth Century but it is occupied by Congressman Lockwood (Andy Taylor) and his traveling companion Anita (Analisa Leaming).  They are quickly removed.

Traveling in Suite B is Lily Garland who is now a huge Hollywood star and her muscular, sexy and egocentric boyfriend Bruce Granit (the affable/laughable Andy Karl).  Oscar hopes to rekindle their relationship and sign her to do his new Broadway show.  But there is another director after Lily – the successful Max Jacobs (James Moye) – Oscar’s rival.

Adding to the mayhem is Letitia Peabody Primrose (a spry Mary Louise Wilson) a wealthy, elderly lady who is attaching REPENT stickers to all and sundry.  She somehow is taken with Oscar (or is it taken by Oscar?) and his project, becoming the major investor – writing a check with Five Zeros (which is one of the better numbers from the limp pastiche score by Cy Coleman.  Comden & Green’s lyrics are not up to their usual witty standards and are often repeated to the point of being dull – a theatrical no-no.

Now to the good stuff.  The overall production is gorgeous.  Sets by David Rockwell and costumes by the inimitable William Ivey Long are breathtakingly beautiful.  Scott Ellis has done another fine job in directing this farce and keeping the pace break neck when allowed by the book and songs which put ON THE TWENTIETH CENTURY in the “not very good” category.

The four porters.  They are excellent.  More than excellent.  Tapping to the choreography of Warren Carlyle and smiling and holding together the plot en route to New York.  Rick Faugno, Richard Riaz Yoder, Phillip Attmore and Drew King.  They open Act II with a show-stopping “Life Is Like a Train.”

The energetic cast does all it can to make this 1978 show bubble like champagne.  Unfortunately they are working with sparkling water.  At the American Airlines Theatre through July 5^th.  A Roundabout production.

www.roundabouttheatre.org

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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But will it play in Peoria?  HAMILTON is sold out through May 3rd in an intimate space at The Public Theatre and is moving to Broadway’s much larger Richard Rodgers Theatre in July after some minor nips and tucks – just in time to celebrate July 4^th – Independence Day.  The theatre was once home to IN THE HEIGHTS – another Miranda hip hop musical.

HAMILTON deals with the American Revolution as well as many other themes circling around its main character Alexander Hamilton played by Lin-Manuel Miranda the mastermind behind the entire production.

Inspired by the hefty tome Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow – Mr. Miranda has written the music – a blend of hip-hop R&B, ballads, and a great big fat catchy showstopper for mad King George III (a droll and dead pan Jonathan Groff) and lyrics that are ingenious and seemingly endless as the show is sung through over an almost three hour period.  Oh and yes he is co-arranger.

We are bombarded with words.  Words that are cleverly rhymed, amusing and character driven.  Words that tumble out of mouths at record speed.  It is indeed fortunate that the excellent sound design by Nevin Steinberg allows us not to miss one of them.

HAMILTON is a big show – in every sense of the word.   There’s enough rich material for three musicals that necessitates the multi-racial cast of two dozen.  There is the Hamilton/Burr (Leslie Odom, Jr.) connection.  The American Revolution, General George Washington (Christopher Jackson) Lafayette (Daveed Diggs who does double duty as Jefferson) Federalist Papers and Secretary of the Treasury connection.

And the most compelling connection of all is that of his relationship with the Schuyler sisters:  the eldest Angelica (the ravishing and extraordinary Renee Elise Goldsberry) in love with Hamilton, Eliza (the beguiling and divine Phillipa Soo who becomes his wife and Peggy (Jasmine Cephas Jones) who acts as backup for them until she gets to strut her stuff as the prostitute Maria Reynolds who beds Hamilton resulting in the sex scandal that brings him disgrace.  And there is a lot more until the final pistol duel.

Like those pesky Prime Ministers over at THE AUDIENCE history keeps getting in the way.

After two and a half hours you are just waiting for it to happen as the muscles in your rear knowing all too well that it going to happen urge it to happen sooner.

The all-purpose double turntable set (David Korins) with its ropes and scaffolds and ladders suits the action and fluid non-stop direction of Thomas Kail to a tee.  The original choreography by Andy Blankenbuehler gives the cast a physical workout that is a wonder to behold.

Costumes by Paul Tazewell bring the past full speed up to the present and nothing can best King George in the royal raiment department.

Mr. Miranda has taken on a herculean task in bringing us this production and there are many moments of true brilliance – genius in fact.  If only that fateful shot would come sooner.

www.publictheatre.org

www.hamiltonbroadway.com

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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She isn’t cheap.  She’s thrifty.  She does her homework.  She is confident, charming, composed, and at rare times impatient.  She allows her Prime Ministers (twelve in all – eight seen here – not in chronological order) twenty minutes of her valuable time once a week in a private meeting to bring her up to speed on matters of state in this intriguing new play THE AUDIENCE by Peter Morgan who also wrote THE QUEEN.  Same Queen.  Same actress.  Both a class act.  She is Helen Mirren portraying Queen Elizabeth II.  And doing so brilliantly with a droll sense of humor, ram rod posture and her infamous handbag.

Costumes and wigs are magically changed as the different men and one woman visit.  As do her figure and stance.  She listens.  Has no power.  Must support her Prime Minister at all costs.  But she is smart and well-read and has a few papers up her own sleeve to question her sometimes shy, sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes overbearing PMs.

It’s a fascinating glimpse into what makes Queen Elizabeth tick as she reveals that she “loathes the palace” and is “happiest on the water” – Hail Britannia!  Or having a picnic in the rain with her corgis at Castle Balmoral.

The scenes between her younger self (a very special Sadie Sink who alternates with Elizabeth Teeter) are quite clever, tender and theatrically brilliant.  One of the fine details supplied from director Stephen Daldry.

The military precision of the two handsome and young white gloved footmen who add or subtract certain pieces of furniture as the scenes change contribute to the glamor of royal pageantry that the excellent Geoffrey Beevers (who is our guide through the 6o years of Elizabeth’s reign) has set up.

The spectacular sets and costumes by Bob Crowley are award winners to be.  As is the lighting design by Rick Fisher.  The coronation scene at the end of Act I is sumptuous and majestic.

The entire cast is quite good.  Churchill (Dakin Matthews) and Margaret Thatcher (Judith Ivey an odd choice) are the two most obvious PMs.  There is a handy reference guide of the inhabitants of 10 Downing Street to assist in identifying the others (who are not distinctive enough):  John Major (Dylan Baker) Anthony Eden (Michael Elwyn) Harold Wilson (Richard McCabe) Gordon Brown (Rod McLachlan) and Rufus Wright who portrays both David Cameron and Tony Blair that leads to a bit of confusion.

The imagined dialogue at these tete-a-tetes include the Suez crisis, sanctions for South Africa, Charles and Diana, holiday houses in the country and a delay tactic of using a photo shoot to delay her scheduled meeting and her desire not only to be a great Queen but a great mother and wife.  There was always a war or crisis pending and Elizabeth always asks – “Well what will be the outcome?”

It has indeed been very good for Queen Elizabeth as she is still on the throne and has no intention of leaving.  She is rarely ill and in good spirits outwardly.  THE AUDIENCE shows a bit of her inner turmoil and determination.  At the Schoenfeld Theatre 45^th Street.

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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www.TheAudienceBroadway.com

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Did you hear the one about the two Drexel brothers (Norman – Larry David and Arthur – Ben Shenkman) arguing in the hospital over who is going to honor dad’s final wish to take care of mom (Gloria – Jayne Houdyshell) as dad (Sidney – Jerry Adler) lies gasping for air on his deathbed after squeezing the boob of Arthur’s date Michelle (Jenn Lyon) who is also a notary?

Neither brother wants mom. Especially Norman – especially after the three a.m. call that awakened him about dad’s condition and who couldn’t get back to sleep so he gave himself the famous five finger exercise.  Neither does his wife (Rita Wilson) – who gets lost in the shuffle.

Thus begins FISH IN THE DARK – written and starring Larry David.  His first play on Broadway and his Broadway debut.  Flip a coin as to which is the winner.

Mr. David is a self- proclaimed jerk who has zero belief in himself and is fond of chewing gum and being crass and outspoken.  A co-creator of Seinfeld has made him a very wealthy jerk.  Larry David:  Curb Your Enthusiasm has increased his fan base by the busload.  Fans that show up to see this production at the Cort Theatre to welcome him as he steps from his limo, watch him cavort onstage and then stand and cheer for him as if he is the Messiah of Broadway.  Which in a way he is.  FISH has a 14 million dollar advance.

Producer Scott Rudin and his team of producers didn’t smell fish when they opted to produce this elaborate production (five sets and 18 actors) they smelled money.  And money it is they are making by the bucket load.  Hopefully Larry David stays in good health and can manage the eight shows a week schedule.  He has no understudy.  He gets sick.  No show.

His fans what to see Him.  Live and in person.  On stage with his hands either in his pockets or feigning mock disbelief or flaying his long arms about as if he has gotten a Boy Scout Merit Badge as a semaphore expert.

So it doesn’t matter that the play is not very good or well-structured and populated with a dysfunctional extended family that are from the old school of stock characters.  They include Mary Louise Burke, Lewis J. Stadlen and Joel Rooks who do their “Borscht Circuit” best.

Some lines and situations are worthy of the chuckles they induce.  But a plot twist involving mom and the ghost of her husband – played by an excellent Jake Cannavale – the son of the housekeeper Fabiana (Rosie Perez) becomes tasteless and vulgar just to set up the denouement.  But that’s Norman/Larry – rude and able to say what no one else would dare.

Todd Rosenthal’s five sets are large and it takes time to change.  And so I believe director Anna D. Shapiro along with the design team came up with a “Death Certificate” computerized show curtain which becomes an eyesore.  The “Swingle Singers” type music (David Yazbek) is just odd.  Like those interludes between the short scenes of a sit-com.  Which FISH IN THE DARK most resembles.  A sixties sex farce is a close second.  Potty humor comes in third.

It’s a matter of taste.  If you love Larry David you’ll love Larry David with his distinctive brand of humor.

High-brow is isn’t.  Raking in the dough it is.  Some seats are reportedly going for $425.00.  Not so bad for a jerk.  Major balls in play here.

Photos:  Joan Marcus    Visit www.TalkEntertainment.com

www.fishinthedark.com

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From the opening notes of the overture of the wonderful score by Jason Robert Brown played by the large on-stage orchestra with a Big Band Sound reminding us of Benny Goodman and Gene Krupa with sax and trumpet solos we are immediately transported to you-know-we-are-about-to-have-a really-good-ring-a-ding time theatrical experience.

Based on a 1992 film of the same name by Andrew Bergman who wrote the sometimes very funny, sometimes satirical and sometimes preposterous book for this production that wowed New Jersey audiences at the Paper Mill Playhouse we meet the true star of the show – Rob McClure (Jack Singer) who dazzled in the title role in CHAPLIN.

Here the versatile McClure is a hapless happy-go-lucky guy with mommy problems and a fiancée who has been waiting around for five years to get hitched.  She is a teacher.  So she is smart.  But not with Jack.  He promised his mom (the always outrageous Nancy Opel) who has been dead for ten years that he would never get married although he is madly in love with Betsy (a sweet Brynn O’Malley) and she is madly in love with him.  Mommy pops up every so often at the most inopportune times to our delight.

So they decide to escape to the swinging Vegas of the 60’s “where dreams come true” to be married at The MILANO Hotel where they bump into goomba Tommy Korman (Tony Danza) who falls immediately for Betsy a dead ringer for his recently dearly departed wife Donna who developed cancer while sipping drinks and basking too long in the Vegas sun.

So Tommy sets to work on stealing Betsy from Jack setting up a crooked poker game – a very prolonged musical poker game that is nicely staged by director Gary Griffin.  Complications arise and Betsy finds herself whisked away for a weekend in Hawaii by Tommy with Jack in pursuit where he is side tracked to “The Garden of Disappointed Mothers” by henchwoman Mahi (a delightful Catherine Ricafort) who sings a very clever “Friki-Friki” as in Coochi-Coochi.

Wait.  There’s more.  It’s a long show.  Funny but long.  On the way to the inevitable happy ending Jack falls in with The Flying Elvises which is the highlight of this production.

David Josefsberg is Roy Bacon (head Elvis) and Buddy Rocky the lounge singer goomba – a dead ringer for Tony Orlando – at The Milano and he is absolutely terrific and quite frankly overshadows Danza.  In fact he would be a better Tommy as Danza although quite game and obviously enjoying himself is stiff and takes all the air out of the show with his first entrance.  He does however improve.

Tommy’s sidekick Johnny Sandwich (Matthew Saldivar) gives a noteworthy goomba performance.

Anna Louizos has designed creative and mobile sets enabling the pace to hardly ever slacken.  The use of the set pieces that come up from below the stage are terrific.

Jason Robert Brown’s lyrics are exceptional.  Fun and smart and move the characters along on their goofy, gaudy and giddy romantic odyssey.

At the NEDERLANDER THEATRE

www.honeymoonbroadway.com

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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Two major stars – Jake Gyllenhaal and Ruth Wilson – make for a minor CONSTELLATIONS.  This fresh opus by Nick Payne – who last brought us the annoying IF THERE IS I HAVEN’T FOUND IT YET (where the stage was flooded with water and furniture also starring Mr. G off Broadway) has the stage at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre figuratively flooded with a batch of balloons.  White balloons. Hanging over the acting arena (same director:  Michael Longhurst).

The kind of balloons that a visitor might bring to a patient in a hospital.  Or are they molecules?  Or enlarged ping pong balls representing the repetitive back and forth banter between our bearded hero – a beekeeper and our pony-tailed heroine – a Cambridge University physicist?

No.  They are most definitely balloons.  Filled with hot air.  Keeping them afloat.  Pity the sometimes robotic dialogue can’t do the same for the play.  But is it a play?  No.  It is a series of quick scenes traversing the Multiverse – in the Past, Present and Future.

Too bad we never are clued in as to which is which or when and where we are on this intellectual blind date created by Mr. Payne between Roland and Marianne as we follow along with great difficulty their budding relationship – friendship – proposal of marriage with thoughts about mortality, sickness and death.  Not a fun evening.

SPOILER ALERT:  You might want to rent one of those hearing devices.  Between the British accent and the acoustics of the Friedman it is hard to decipher what is being said.  Perhaps it is ROW N that is the culprit.  In any event if you miss words you will not know what is going on as it’s all in the dialogue.  Quick.  Fast paced.  Scenes changing with the speed of light and sound as the actors take on new positions – standing or sitting or finger pointing.  And finally silently “signing”.

From the abrupt entrance of the two stars with her tongue twisting “lick the tip of your elbow” business through their ballroom class and his lengthy bee speech and proposal to the abrupt ending a mere 70 thankful minutes from its start CONSTELLATIONS is a lot less than the sum of its parts sounding more and more like a broken record – the needle stuck in a grove of repeating the same theme over and over – with slight variations.

For the record Jake Gyllenhaal just has to stand on stage to be commanding.  And that’s just what he mostly does here – when he is not sitting on the floor.  He oozes charm and sexuality and endows Roland with a simplicity and honesty and quirkiness.  His other half – Ruth Wilson needs to learn how to project.  I missed too many of her words.  I kept imagining Kristin Johnston from 3^rd Rock from the Sun.  Maybe it was all those balloons and other worldly music.

A Royal Court Theatre and Manhattan Theatre Club presentation.  Through March 15^th.

www.manhattantheatreclub.com

www.constellationsbroadway.com

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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