Oscar E Moore

Daniel Radcliffe may be the bait to entice audiences to buy tickets to the Michael Grandage Company’s production of Martin McDonagh’s quirky yet moving play THE CRIPPLE OF INISHMANN that has been brought over from London lock, stock and barrel of peas and baskets of eggs intact at the Cort Theatre but there are many other wonderful assets to enjoy in this incredibly well acted and directed production by Michael Grandage.

First and foremost the gracious and talented Mr. Radcliffe is not the star of the production, per se.  He is part of an ensemble of fine-tuned actors portraying the various eccentric characters that inhabit the bleak Island of Inishmaan where gossip reigns supreme.  There isn’t much else to do.  But like all gossip one never knows what is true and what isn’t.

Mr. Radcliffe, as Cripple Billy has decided to forsake his comfort zone in what appears to be a most uncomfortable position as he hobbles across the stage – almost hopping – as he becomes the twisted albeit adorable Billy – a sickly orphan who has been brought up by his two spinster aunts after both his parents died in a boating accident.  Or did they?

Auntie Kate Osbourne (Ingrid Craigie) a most negative person who speaks to stones and Auntie Eileen Osbourne (Gillian Hanna) who sneaks treats that should be for sale in the General Store that they run while forever worrying about Billy – a bullied boy who loves to read and look at cows and who is trying to muster enough courage to date Helen McCormick (Sarah Greene) the beautiful, tough and foul mouthed sister of Bartley McCormick (Conor MacNeill) who loves telescopes, making fun of others and who has a tough time deciding on which candy he wants to choose and who is forever being brow beaten by his sister.

It’s a boring life in this town.  So gossip is always welcomed.  But at a price.  Johnnypateenmike (Pat Shortt) is willing to deliver his very important choice bits of news for a slab of bacon, or a can of peas or some eggs to help him out as he is caretaker of his ninety year old mom – Mammy (June Watson) who likes to argue with her son and have a few shots of whiskey to get her heart started in the morning – a heart that her son wishes would just stop.

Mr. Shortt reveals that an American film company has arrived to make a documentary – The Man of Aran.  Billy wants to audition for the part of a crippled boy.  And so he persuades Babbybobby (Padraic Delaney) to take him and Helen and Bartley off Island to try to get into the picture.  He does so by delivering a letter from his Doctor (Gary Lilburn) describing an illness that Babbybobby’s wife died of.

Has Billy got only three months to live?  Will he get the part?  Will he go to America or die of TB?  Does he ever get to kiss Helen?   Will Mammy ever stop berating her son?  Will Mammy live forever?  Will we see blood shed?  Eggs crushed?  Will we learn the truth about Billy’s parents?

Mr. McDonagh has a wonderful lyrical style of writing which can be darkly humorous.  His characters say the most horrible things.  We shouldn’t laugh but we do.

Daniel Radcliffe’s performance is flawless.  He has a depth of character and his inner soul shines right through his penetrating eyes.  He is heartbreaking and funny.  Mr. McDonagh has written a part that twists and turns as much as Billy’s malformed left foot – we never quite know what the truth is and where we are headed – but we are moved and enlightened during this incredible journey to the Island of Inishmaan.  A superb production.

www.crippleofinishmaan.com

Photos:  Marc Brenner

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While it’s never made clear by playwright John Steinbeck how George (James Franco) and Lennie (Chris O’Dowd) met and became fast friends – Are they cousins?  Did a horse really kick Lennie in the head? – they simply are.

In this stark and no-nonsense limited engagement revival of the 1938 drama that is ably directed by Anna D. Shapiro, James Franco and Chris O’Dowd are part of a terrific ensemble, bringing to life the dreams of the desperate, the weary and downtrodden workers in the Salinas Valley of California during the great depression of the 1930’s with atmospheric music by David Singer and scenic design by Todd Rosenthal.

Looking out for each other and looking for work that will enable them to fulfill their dream of owning their own homestead and living off “the fat of the land” they land new jobs in a place that Lennie instinctively feels is bad, foreshadowing all that will tragically follow.  Both give assured performances and their chemistry is palpable.

These two unlikely buddies find solace in their long term friendship.  They need each other to survive.  The dominant and mostly patient George is the protector of the childlike but strong like an ox Lennie having the fortitude to look after his mentally disabled friend who has a knack for getting into trouble because he loves to pet nice, soft things – mice, rabbits and pups.  Petting and unintentionally killing them in the process.

The other ranch hands find it strange that these two men are so close and have been traveling together and that George speaks for both of them while Lennie smiles and laughs and picks up words and phrases but has trouble remembering – always ready to hear, like a bedtime story, what George has envisioned for their future.

An uncertain future for sure as they try to adapt to their new surroundings.  There is the old ranch hand Candy (Jim Norton) with his stinky old dog that Carlson (Joel Marsh Garland) wants to shoot.  When Candy finds out about the plan to buy some land he offers his life savings to be a part of their new life.

The boss’s short son Curley (Alex Morf) takes an immediate dislike to Lennie.  He likes to intimidate and start fights, usually over his pretty and fragile wife (Leighton Meester) who seeks out the other men to talk to (in particular the handsome Slim – Jim Parrack) as her marriage isn’t what she thought it would be and still dreams of being an actress.

Also on hand is Crooks (Ron Cephas Jones) a black worker who is not allowed to be with the others, but who manages to befriend Lennie and who also would love to join them in their escapist pipe dream.

When Curley’s wife decides to leave, she accidently meets Lennie.  They speak and she innocently lets him caress her hair that ultimately leads to the stunning and shocking ending that leaves the audience stunned into silence.  OF MICE AND MEN is a sad and searing revival with very strong performances – particularly those of Franco and O’Dowd and Norton.

www.ofmiceandmenonbroadway.com

Photos:  Richard Phibbs

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It’s 1929 Berlin and the Nazi’s are on the move.  But within the decadent Kit Kat Klub at Studio 54 everything is beautiful.  At least that’s what Fred Ebb (lyrics) John Kander (music) and Joe Masteroff (book) intended in their landmark musical of 1966 based on the 1951 play by John Van Druten I AM A CAMERA adapted from a short novel “Goodbye to Berlin” – 1939 by Christopher Isherwood.

In 1998 Sam Mendes’ reimagined, revised and re-edited revival opened to great reviews and was moved into Studio 54 starring Alan Cumming and Natasha Richardson as Sally Bowles.

This present revival of Mr. Mendes’ revival has just reopened in the same space where all of the orchestra seats have been removed and replaced with small tables with a small lamp with a red shade and four small and uncomfortable chairs to sit on enabling the management to hawk snacks and drinks at exorbitant prices.

Alan Cumming returns as the Master of Ceremonies a role made famous by Joel Gray.  They couldn’t be further apart in their interpretation.  But both win.

The bare chested Mr. Cumming, with a lithe body, rouged nipples and suspenders that cradle his crotch is omnipresent with a haircut that brings to mind the style worn by Hitler.  He is charmingly decadent, spanking and grabbing crotches and whispering welcoming phrases throughout culminating in a most unusual “Two Ladies” – one of whom is played by a man with a shadow play “ménage a trois” that leaves little to the imagination.

Mr. Mendes’ production is dark.  Figuratively and literally.  And sometimes dreary.  There are two spiral stairways flanking the stage, an upper level housing the band and three doors and a few chairs that the actors move around.   Simple. But in doing so he has managed to eliminate the excitement of CABARET.

Michelle Williams is the other big draw.  Although she sings her numbers with determination she doesn’t quite mange to capture the young prostitute Sally Bowles who falls for the handsome American writer Clifford Bradshaw (Bill Heck) whose bisexuality is heightened here. There is little if no chemistry between them – which makes their book scenes seem endless.

On a brighter note.  We have Linda Emond as Fraulein Schneider – a landlady who has to make ends meet and so she must compromise – putting up with Fraulein Kost (Gayle Rankin) and her endless supply of paying sailors and lowering the rent for the American writer to fill her rooming house where Herr Schultz (Danny Burstein) owner of a fruit market also resides.

Ms. Emond and Mr. Burstein are wonderful.  Simply wonderful – making this CABARET a show to see again.   They bring warmth and humor and color to their roles as they fall in love over a pineapple, decide not to be alone and to marry only to be thwarted when it is discovered by a Nazi sympathizer, Ernst Ludwig (Aaron Krohn) that Herr Schultz is Jewish.

The score by Kander and Ebb remains one of their best.  And the musical staging by Rob Marshall who is co-director is thoroughly engaging but the show is somehow murky and not completely satisfying – having lost something in the revision/re-edit process.

The addition of an unnecessary audience participation after the rousing Act II “Entr’Acte” (a highlight) when Alan Cumming selects two audience members to join him onstage to dance and kibitz after observing that he smells fear is unrewarding.

A Roundabout Theatre Company production.

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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www.roundabouttheatre.org

www.cabaretmusical.com

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Standing tall and plain without any makeup Sutton Foster – center stage – in a spot light that she truly deserves – begins to take us on a Greyhound bus journey of discovery (North Carolina to Tulsa Oklahoma) September 1964.

A journey that has taken the creators of VIOLET Jeanine Tesori (music) and Brian Crawley (book & lyrics) seventeen years to reach Broadway (after its premier off Broadway at Playwrights Horizon in 1997) at the American Airlines Theatre where this incredible, gripping and entertaining Roundabout production has opened under the radar with an explosive impact of talent that stuns, leaving you shaken as the journey ends.

Violet (a remarkable and reimagined Sutton Foster) has been left with a horrible disfiguring scar on her face that we do not see but that has had a deep traumatic effect on her life long after the wood chopping accident when her father’s axe let loose havoc on her plain but attractive face.

She has been bullied. Made fun of.  Called horrible names.  And now she is on her way to Tulsa where she expects televangelist preacher (Charlie Pollack) to heal her – to make her as beautiful as the movie sirens she reads about so that someone will love her.

Despite the scar that haunts her she is a sharp and willful young woman.  A whiz at poker – a game that her father (Alexander Gemignani) taught her as a young Violet (Emerson Steele) that we see in flashback.  She’s quick but guarded.  With a lethal wit and a look that could kill.  And she can sing a tender lullaby “Lay Down Your Head” after a sexual encounter and powerfully deliver “Look At Me” without once losing sight of her character or any of her natural charisma.

On the bus depot unit set (David Zinn) where the band sits on a slightly higher level playing the beautiful and terrific arrangements (Rick Bassett, Joseph Joubert & Buryl Red) of Ms. Tresori’s wondrous blue grass, gospel and land of the South inspired score, Violet’s story unfolds simply and stylistically under the graceful and sharp direction of Leigh Silverman who has given a special aura to this production.

The book and lyrics by Brian Crawley are superior to any that you will hear on Broadway or Off.  Each song is smart or funny or touching or rousing – with rich details of character throughout.

On her way Violet meets up with two Army buddies.  Monty (Colin Donnell) the good looking, arrogant, looking for a good time, one night stand sort of guy and Flick (Joshua Henry) who knows only too well what it is to be an outcast as he is black.  They all become friends and when they have a stopover night along the route they hit the town and party with some great dance moves supplied by Jeffrey Page – and it is the first time we see Violet smile.

Of course Flick and Monty each want something from Violet and it is this odd triangle that sets off most of the conflict.  Not to mention the guilt of her dad over the accident.  As she travels on Violet learns more about herself and friendship and even love, learning from those around her including a chatty Old Woman (Annie Golden).

Flick has a show stopping heart throbbing song “Let It Sing” an anthem that brings the house down with its stirring words and music.  And his majestic voice.

It is when Violet meets the preacher that we hear his television Gospel singers led on by Lula Buffington (a phenomenal Rema Webb) sing the inspiration “Raise Me Up” – but is this a service or a show?  He dismisses her. He has no time for her. Violet insists that he heal her.  The outcome is a revelation.  Both for Violet and us.

You must take this journey with Sutton Foster who is phenomenal as are all of her fellow cast members.  It is a production that insists that you remember and feel deep in your soul and realize what it truly means to be beautiful.

VIOLET is based on “The Ugliest Pilgrim” by Doris Betts.

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Photos:  Joan Marcus

www.roundabouttheatre.org

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Woody Allen.  Susan Stroman.  High hopes.  But BULLETS OVER BROADWAY the jukebox musical adaptation of Mr. Allen’s film (with Douglas McGrath) is a potpourri, pot luck production harking back to the 1920’s where the silly story didn’t matter as much as the jokes, the girls, the dances and the tunes.

And herein lies one of the fundamental mistakes – using a collection of songs from various composers of the period that are shoehorned into the story line – some songs work better than others but it just don’t sound right for the story or the characters no matter how hard they try to make it work.

One has to admire the tenacity and talent of Susan Stroman who has given us many a huge hit in the past.  In BULLETS she has created some terrific dance routines – the “Tiger Rag” “The Hot Dog Song” and the show stopping Gangster Tap “Tain’t Nobody’s Biz-ness If I Do” headed by the real star of the show Nick Cordero as Cheech – the body guard of Olive Neal (Helene York) a would be actress and hot tootsie moll of Nick Valenti (Vincent Pastore) who promises to make her a star by investing in a play written by David Shayne (Zach Braff) a miscasting error of the highest degree.  He is more Ray Romano than the voice of Woody Allen – and that is a detriment to the overall stunning to look at and enjoyable production.

The otherwise talented Mr. Braff seems dull and flat as the aspiring non-compromising writer that ultimately must compromise to get his show produced – leaving the door wide open for the exceptional Mr. Cordero to take over the stage as the goon who rewrites the failing script into a mega Broadway hit.

I had seen Mr. Cordero in THE TOXIC AVENGER and he was a laugh riot.  He is doubly so here singing and dancing into a possible Tony Award with his spot on performance.

You will certainly get more bang for your buck here with the opulent costumes designed by Mr. William Ivey Long and the gorgeous fast changing sets of Santo Loquasto – despite the whitewashing of The Cotton Club.

The cast of stock characters are fun, although they’re been around for a quite a while:  the vain and aging star making a comeback who drinks and is a nympho Helen Sinclair (an over the top Marin Mazzie) who never seems drunk despite her intake of fluids, Ellen (a delightful Betsy Wolfe) the girlfriend of the playwright whom he spurns when he falls for Helen, the overweight costar Warner Purcell (a fleet of foot Brooks Ashmanskas) who eats everything in sight including the dog biscuits of Mr. Woofles (Trixie) held tightly by his owner Eden Brent (Karen Ziemba).

Ms. Stroman even manages to make murder funny as bodies are shot and dropped off at The Gowanus Canal and delivers a rousing first act finale “Runnin’ Wild” but can’t get the show to come together as a satisfying whole.

BULLETS OVER BROADWAY is a puzzle where some of the pieces fit beautifully and others don’t.  It’s a shame because there is so much that is enjoyable.  At the St. James Theatre.

Photos:  Paul Kolnik

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www.bulletsoverbroadway.com

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As Billie Holiday, nearing the end of her young life, returning one last time to sing at Emerson’s Bar & Grill in Philly – Audra McDonald is quite sensational.  She has left Audra at the stage door of Circle in the Square Theatre and has become Lady Day.

Living and breathing and stumbling as she makes her star entrance in this star vehicle written lovingly and truthfully by Lanie Robertson about a star spiraling down, out of control, dissolving right before our eyes.

It’s not a pretty picture, but Audra McDonald is a powerful presence.  Eerily replicating the voice and tone and phrasing of the illustrious and most original Lady Day.  Singing fifteen famous Holiday songs.  Moving us with her heartbreaking life – man problems, drug problems, police problems, prison and racism – as she opens up to her “pals and friends” in the intimate club as she refills her never empty glass of booze – spilling her guts out sometimes humorously and sometimes contemptuously between numbers.

Lady Day is backed up by a fantastic trio consisting of “her main man” Jimmy Powers (Shelton Becton) on piano – and boy can he caress those ivories – Clayton Craddock on drums and George Farmer on bass with wonderful arrangements and orchestrations by Tim Weil.

Steve Canyon Kennedy has done a masterful job with his duo sound design – distinguishing between that of her singing into the standing microphone and when she is off mic – speaking.  It is so subtle but it makes a big difference.  Every important lyric and part of her story is heard clearly.

Jimmy says very little but keeps his fading star on track.  Calmly cuing her intros every so often for the songs she is contracted to sing.  Songs that sometimes she doesn’t want to sing –‘Cause she sings the way she feels – which can sometimes be a problem.  But when Audra sings as Billie it is glorious and ultimately breathtakingly sad.

Director Lonny Price has wisely converted the Circle in the Square Theatre – adding twenty small round tables where drinks are served (Circle Club Seating) facing the stage area and where Billie gets to mingle with her “pals” requesting a guy to light her cigarette, and where she makes her exit about three quarters into the show to return with her pet Chihuahua Pepi (Roxie) and her arm bared and bloodied by her drug injections that had been discreetly covered by her long white opera gloves – attempting to regain her thoughts and composure before her final devastating number.

Regrets she had a few.  Never having a child nor her own club.  She loved her mom “Duchess” – Bessie Smith, Louis Armstrong and Artie Shaw who befriended her and fought for her rights.

It’s a phenomenal performance that could bring Ms. McDonald another Tony to be added to her already crowded shelf of awards.  There are only a handful of performances that if you miss, you will regret forever.  Audra McDonald as Lady Day is one of them.

LIMITED ENGAGEMENT through August 10th. www.LadyDayonBroadway.com

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Photos:  Evgenia Eliseeva

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Get thee immediately to the Lucille Lortel Theatre for an evening of side-splitting, howling hilarity that is a glowing tribute to the talent of  Charles Ludlam and his partner Everett Quinton who is now not a co-star but the director of the 30^th anniversary revival of THE MYSTERY OF IRMA VEP – A PENNY DREADFUL – that is anything but.

IRMA VEP (an anagram of VAMPIRE) has withstood the test of time and is still as hilarious as ever – a comedy of gothic proportions, a comedy of outlandish imagination and wit that gives new meaning to the word “ridiculous”.

Charles Ludlam created The Ridiculous Theatrical Company in 1967.  Many wild and yes, ridiculous plays followed.  Unfortunately he died much too early in 1987.  Twenty prolific years.  The torch has been passed to his partner/lover/muse Everett Quinton and the result is a new mounting of this classic Gothic inspired who-dun-it.

Thunder and lightning.  Screams in the night.  Werewolves.  Vampires and a mummy brought back to life fill the stage of the Lortel in this mash up of classic theater, word play, sight gags, hot toddies, a duet on the dulcimer, quick changes of wigs, costumes, genders and accents that allow two terrific actors – playing all the roles – to delight us for two hours in this blissfully funny comedy of outlandish manners.

Arnie Burton and Robert Sella have taken over for Ludlam and Quinton respectively and respectfully.  It takes two to tango to make this production work so successfully and they are more than up to the challenge under the guidance of Mr. Quinton who has really been there and done that.

Lady Enid Hillcrest (Arnie Burton) is the second wife of Egyptologist Lord Edgar (Robert Sella) whose first wife Irma (portrait above the askew mantel) was killed along with their only son by a werewolf.  Or was she? Jane Twisden (Sella – channeling Emma Thompson) is the overly protective maid pursued by the one stiffly wooden legged, leering swineherd Nicodemus (Burton).

In Act II we start off in Cairo where Lord Edgar meets up with Alcazar and Pev Amri (the bare chested mummy brought back to hysterical dancing life) in an underground tomb.   We then travel back to Mandacrest – the Hillcrest Estate near Hempstead Heath where all the loose ends are tidied up as the actors exit one door only to enter a split second later as another character with a completely new look and ample opportunities to chew up the scenery.

It must be havoc backstage but onstage it is utterly delightful.

Perhaps the time has come for a “Charles Ludlam Festival” of ridiculous but oh so satisfying plays that might include his CAMILLE and GALLAS.

Limited engagement through May 11^th ONLY

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Photos:  Carol Rosegg

A Red Bull Theater production. www.redbulltheater.com

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There is evidence of life on another planet.  The planet is called Eno.  As in Will Eno – “a new voice”, an experimental playwright, a man of many words playfully used to some effect in THE REALISTIC JONESES – a series of short scenes that might be more at home in the Fringe Festival than the Lyceum Theatre.

There are four quirky characters and a memorable dead squirrel bringing to mind WAITING FOR GODOT by Beckett and Caryl Churchill’s LOVE AND INFORMATION with a bit of Edward Albee thrown in for good measure.

It takes place in “a smallish town not far from some mountains” with tall pine trees looming on a unit set (David Zinn) that looks like a yard sale is about to take place with another interior location at the other side of the stage separated by a pair of glass sliding doors.

Bob Jones (Tracy Letts) and Jennifer Jones (Toni Colette) gaze at the stars and try to communicate with each other.  Bob has a degenerate neurological disease – problems with vision, memory and balance and they have moved here to be near a doctor that can treat him.

They are soon and unexpectedly joined by the other pair of Joneses – John (Michael C. Hall) and Pony (Marisa Tomei) who have just moved in nearby.  They bring a bottle of wine that remains unopened.  It’s an uncomfortable situation for all.

We soon learn that John suffers from a similar disease.  He’s a repairman of sorts who is always hearing something strange but then he isn’t.  His wife Pony is ditsy and has an amusing talk with God.

Jennifer is high strung and tries to be as patient as she can be with her sarcastic grouch of a husband Bob who is in denial.

All of this is a bit pretentious and we learn little that is enlightening about mortality and said disease.  There are many Pinter-esque silences and very little takes place although it is sometimes very amusing in the word play department.  We don’t remember much of what has happened after leaving the theatre but you will surely remember the dead squirrel.

The acting is first rate and the direction by Sam Gold keeps things moving smoothly along for its thankfully short 95 minutes.

It appears that it has taken a village of producers to mount this four character production that was commissioned by and premiered at Yale Repertory Theatre.  Proof that there are many who believe in life on another planet.

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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www.therealisticjoneses.com

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Denzel Washington is a revelation.  A true star.  A team player.  A natural to portray Walter Lee Younger in this revival of Lorraine Hansberry’s 1959 play – A RAISIN IN THE SUN that is a tribute to Ms. Hansberry’s talent and spirit.

It is beautifully directed by the gifted Kenny Leon who has assembled a couldn’t-be-better ensemble at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre through June 15^th.  So you had better get your tickets now to see one of the finest plays this season on Broadway with performances to match from everyone involved.  Everything is just right.

Some say that Mr. Washington is a bit old to portray the downtrodden chauffeur who has big dreams for himself and his family in Chicago’s South Side – “sometime between World War II and 1960”.  I say it doesn’t matter one bit.  Mr. Washington believes he is Walter and he is Walter.  And more importantly we believe that he is Walter.

His stirring second act speech where he “performs” it for his family before Karl Linder (David Cromer) arrives (the man who represents Clybourne Park – a white community where Walter’s mom has put down a deposit with a part of the life insurance money from her husband’s death – $10,000 – for their new home – a home where they can all live comfortably and she can have a small garden) to pay them NOT to move in thereby avoiding any racial problems is tantamount to an eleven o’clock number in a musical and Mr. Washington tears down the house and rips our hearts apart with its delivery and what immediately follows.

But it is not just Mr. Denzel Washington center stage here.  It is generously shared with the other actors who give exceptional performances.

His mom – strong and common sense wise Lena Younger (Latanya Richardson Jackson), Ruth Younger his weary wife (Sophie Okonedo) who loves him despite his sometimes gruff behavior towards her, their son Travis (Bryce Clyde Jenkins), his younger sister Beneatha (Anika Noni Rose) who dreams of becoming a doctor and has difficulty choosing  between beaus – the rich but shallow George Murchison (Jason Dirden) and the idealistic Joseph Asagai from Nigeria (Sean Patrick Thomas) who helps her to re-assimilate back to her roots.

With a just right jazz score that transitions the scenes, on a detailed and naturalistic set by Mark Thompson, Lorraine Hansberry’s spectacular, funny, smart, tragic, uplifting, surprising, exhilarating, uncompromising, compassionate, amazing and ageless play unfolds.

See it.  No late seating.  And they mean it.  Be on time.  Be there.

One more thing.  I thank each and every actor for being able to hear every single beautiful word that they utter on stage in A RAISIN IN THE SUN.  Everything is just right.

Photos:  Bridgette Lacombe

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www.raisinbroadway.com

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Lest anyone dare to forget the plague that took the lives of too many young and old, talented and loving homosexuals due to having unsafe sex way back then in the not so innocent 80’s Terrence McNally has written MOTHERS AND SONS – a eulogy to Andre – the unseen son of Katherine Gerard (Tyne Daly) and deceased lover of Cal Porter (Frederick Weller).  It is also an examination of four generations and their take on homosexuality, AIDS and its repercussions.

Cal has moved on from the untimely and horrible death of Andre at age 29 – an actor who is best remembered for his portrayal of Hamlet – a Dane with mother issues.  An affliction that Andre shared with Hamlet.

Cal is now married to Will Ogden (Bobby Steggert) – a much younger, would be writer who stays at home caring for their son Bud Ogden-Porter (Grayson Taylor) while Cal brings in the big bucks allowing them to live on Central Park West overlooking the Park below.

A view that Cal is pointing out to the mink clad Katherine as the play begins in the spacious pre-war apartment designed by John Lee Beatty and beautifully lit by Jeff Croiter.

Andre’s mother has dropped by unexpectedly from Dallas on her way to Rome for the Christmas holidays to deliver her son’s diary to Cal.  It’s been almost twenty years since they last connected – if that’s the right word.

It’s almost a one sided conversation as Katherine stands there rigidly, not taking off her coat and promising that she won’t stay long – replying tersely.  Both looking straight out towards the audience.

She is tense, uncomfortable and still in denial about her son’s homosexuality.  She wants to know who gave him the disease and wants revenge.  She is bitter and full of hate that slowly bubbles to the surface as she tries to understand Cal’s new husband and their polite, bright and innocent six year old son who asks lots and lots of questions.

She has not moved on even after the recent death of her husband.  She is totally alone now and we get some back story as to why she is as she is.  Cal tries patiently to explain how much Andre and he loved each other but has found someone new on the internet.

Will is too young to know much about the plague and is happily living the life of the new liberated gay man comfortable in his own skin – happily married.  Bud is the innocent one and happy as a lark with two daddies and his bubble bath and Oreo cookies.

Mr. McNally gets on his usual soap box hammering home for gay rights and that if they didn’t deny us the dignity of marriage then maybe Aids would not have happened – but even married couples stray…

There is a lot of heated bantering back and forth as they try to sort out their lives and it is left to the young Bud to finally bring Katherine around in this darkly humorous, heartfelt and well intentioned production that is played to the hilt by Ms. Daly and the three men in her life under the astute direction of Sheryl Kaller.  At the Golden Theatre.

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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www.mothersandsonsbroadway.com

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