Oscar E Moore

For anyone seeking some biographical information about super agent to the A-list stars Sue Mengers during her heyday of 1970’s Hollywood just GOOGLE.  If you desire to see the next to the real thing and get the inside dish with some juicy added embellishments just fork over some dough to see The Divine Miss M in all her glory acting out the role in John Logan’s one woman talk-a-thon I’LL EAT YOU LAST – a chat with Sue Mengers (although she does all of the chatting in this 85 minute inside LA Confidential monologue) at the Booth Theatre where Ms. M has just broken the house record.

Bette Midler is in top form.  Sitting throughout on a divine sofa plush with pillows in a divine house (décor by Scott Pask) that once belonged to Zsa Zsa Gabor with a pool somewhere outside (but that’s not important) wearing a divine caftan designed by Edith Head – sorry I mean Ann Roth circa 1981.

What is important is that Mengers (who died in 2011) is hosting one of her infamous dinner parties and has just been informed by the lawyers of her used to be best friend Barbra Streisand that her services will no longer be needed.  There is a new agency on the block CAA (Creative Artists Agency – ironically the playwright’s rep) and the winds of change are blowing at hurricane force and clients are jumping ship.

Looking radiant after an absence of more than thirty years on Broadway and fit as a fiddle and ready for just about anything including profanity, smoking, alcohol consumption, drug use and gossip that we have been warned about on the show curtain Bette Midler basks in the glow of her adoring fans who by play’s end adore her even more for her grand performance that has been coaxed on by director Joe Mantello.  Between the two, strategic smoking and drinking have been timed precisely to get every laugh line there is.  And Midler knows how to prolong and milk a laugh till its dry.

She tells us, while waiting for La Streisand to call, about her rise from a German/Jewish waif to receptionist to super agent to such luminaries as Julie Harris, Gene Hackman, Faye Dunaway, Ali McGraw and Sissy Spacek.  And how to go about being a super agent.  Like her.  When someone said “No” she heard “Maybe”.  Most of the anecdotes are hilarious as told by the Divine Miss M.

Sue Mengers first and foremost wanted to have fun.  And she did.  And Bette continues to do so, especially when she beckons an unsuspecting guy from the audience to fetch her cigarettes and vodka – after removing his shoes so as not to soil her newly cleaned carpet.

Brash, outspoken, fearless with a self made image and determination of steel could be used to describe both Mengers and Midler.  Both have done it their way.  And we are the grateful recipients of a great performance about a great super agent.  It’s delish.  Go see it.

www.illeatyoulast.com  A strictly limited engagement through June 30^th.  Opened April 24^th the birthday of Streisand.

Photos:  Richard Termine

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From the Barrington Stage Musical Theater Lab to the Duke on 42 Street comes an odd, ambitious and contemporary new musical THE MEMORY SHOW by Sara Cooper (Book & Lyrics) and Zach Redler (Music) produced by the Transport Group Theatre Company starring Catherine Cox and Leslie Kritzer.  It is performed without an intermission.  It has fifteen musical numbers that are difficult to listen to – let alone remember.

Considering that the show deals with Mother (Cox) being diagnosed with early stage Alzheimer’s disease and Daughter (Kritzer) moving back home to care for her that might seem appropriate. 

It’s a promising premise that might have made a better play without music – music that distracts and alienates.  By the time the last number “Lullaby” arrived I couldn’t wait to depart.

I admire the work of the Transport Group.  Their productions are daring and different – The Boys in the Band, Hello Again, See Rock City and Other Destinations, and The Queen of the Mist were all outstanding.

I have admired Catherine Cox especially her performance in Flambé Dreams a production of the New York Music Theater Festival, ditto for the very talented Leslie Kritzer for her turn in Rooms:  A Rock Romance.  But Cox’s over the top portrayal here seems more bipolar than someone suffering with being unable to remember.  Plus the character is unlikable and so it is difficult to feel any sympathy for her.

Daughter (Kritzer) has her own set of problems.  She is sacrificing all to help.  So she says.  She had given up her apartment and has been unlucky in love and her relationship with Mom seems to have always been stressful.  It’s a she says, she says kind of thing.

Now Mom is trying to remember – having Daughter enact other people from the past.  Their versions of what happened differ especially when it come to Father.  Who’s telling the truth?  Is it the sickness or has Mom always been in denial.  Oh yes, there is a family secret that keeps popping up that Mom threatens to reveal.

And Daughter laments so often about she being the apple and her mother the tree that you soon tire of that clichéd expression.

The off stage musicians – heavy on oboe and clarinet, cello and violin tend to drown out the two performers in this art house, chamber like musical that is anti melodic in the extreme.

Mother and Daughter are angry, addressing the audience, telling their side of the story and become increasingly confrontational.  One takes pills the other booze.  The book tries its best to elicit some compassion and nearly succeeds at the close but the music all but destroys anything worth remembering about THE MEMORY SHOW. 

Directed by Joe Calarco.  Through May 18^th.

www.TransportGroup.org  Photo:  Carol Rosegg

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Stark, searing and sensational.  The best revival or new play I have seen this season.  This production of the timeless ORPHANS by Lyle Kessler excels on so many levels under the expert direction of Daniel Sullivan.  It’s a moving, original and most unusual drama that has its moments of terror, laughter and compassion.

First produced in 1983 it retains its full emotionally draining power and the performances by Alec Baldwin as Henry, the man who would be kidnapped, Ben Foster as the prone to violence Treat, the older orphaned brother whose petty thievery allows him to help his backward yet extremely intelligent younger brother Phillip (Tom Sturridge) are nothing short of magnificent.

Phillip and Treat barely exist in a ramshackle, dingy and dirty house in North Philadelphia – another amazing set by John Lee Beatty.

In two short and swift acts at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre these two orphans – their mother has died and their father has deserted them – live on a steady diet of tuna and mayo.  While Treat goes about robbing people Phillip stays indoors – afraid to go out.  Treat will provide.  Treat will take care of him.  Or is he keeping Phillip isolated from the real world to serve his own purposes?

Phillip has a pent up energy that manifests itself in his jumping all over the furniture and up the staircase like some Spiderman or wild animal.  At the same time he has a sensitive inner being just waiting to be allowed out.  He speaks slowly and educates himself by watching reruns of The Price is Right on TV.  He underlines words and sentences in books.  He is a quick study.  He comforts himself with the clothing of his mother in a closet.  He is heartbreaking.

Then Treat arrives with a drunken Henry.  Is he a businessman or a gangster from Chicago?  And how did they really meet?  Why is he carrying an attaché case full of stocks and bonds?

As their captive Henry is tied to a chair and left alone with Phillip.  They talk.  They bond.  And when no one wants to pay a ransom for Henry the play takes a decidedly different turn which is unexpected, fun and harrowing.

Alex Baldwin has amazingly left Alec Baldwin at the stage door and makes Henry (an orphan himself) a full blown exciting character to watch.  At first drunk, then offering “an encouraging squeeze of the shoulders” and then taking charge as boss and teacher.

Long after seeing this production, ORPHANS will haunt you with its tender and hurtful, hilarious and explosive and strong and real emotions that are laid bare for all to see.

Photos:  Joan Marcus

Limited engagement through June 30^th. DO NOT MISS ORPHANS.

www.orphansonbroadway.com

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What’s most missing in this Hollywood artifact dug up by the Roundabout Theatre Company – not seen here for sixty years?  A biting edge and that most important word – STYLE. 

It’s a rather unimpressive and dull production directed by Doug Hughes of THE BIG KNIFE on view at the American Airlines Theatre, Clifford Odets’ melodramatic expose of the old Hollywood Studio System, fame and fortune and cover-ups.

Billy Wilder got it right in Sunset Boulevard.  This is Wilder without the satire or the bite or the fun needed to fully satisfy all those faces out there in the dark.

This is film noir that’s about as noir as the light bulbs that illuminate the excellent set by John Lee Beatty where the action takes place.  It’s the “playroom” of Charlie Castle (a pontificating Bobby Cannavale) – where deals are made and broken as well as hearts, where cigarettes and booze are rampant, where seductions are played out and murder plots hatched in this plush ultra modern Beverly Hills home circa 1948.

A home very much in vogue again.  Not so the script.

Get yourself famous.  Get yourself in trouble.  You eventually pay for it.  In spades.  Charlie Castle is a huge star who has the look of Errol Flynn and the sound of a cross between Bogart and Tony Danza – a piece of property owned by the Studio headed by that megalomaniac Marcus Huff (Richard Kind) who brings in lots of money both for himself and the shareholders.  But hot shot, womanizer Charlie is having second thoughts and is mulling over his new contract that would tie him up for another fourteen years and he might not sign.

 His wife Marion (a much too contemporary Marin Ireland) will leave him, once again, if he does sign.  His agent Nat Danziger (Chip Zien) strongly advises him to not make waves.  The Studio boss and his cohort Smiley Coy (Reg Rogers) will do everything in their power – including blackmail and murder to keep their star before the camera.  Richard Kind plays this shark that sheds crocodile tears on cue to the hilt.

Buddy Bliss (Joey Slotnick) had taken the blame in the past for a tragic accident that Charlie was involved in – covered up by the Studio.  His wife Connie (Ana Reeder) puts the make on Charlie.  He in turn puts the make on starlet Dixie Evans (Rachel Brosnahan) and screen writer Hank Teagle (C.J. Wilson) is waiting in the wings to whisk Charlie’s wife away after the maybe yes maybe no divorce.

A rumor that Hollywood gossipmonger Patty Benedict (a wonderful Brenda Wehle) tries to sniff out during the opening moments of the play looking and acting the part in the style that is missing in the other performances.  Too bad.

One highlight however is in the dark – as the scene changes we hear dialogue from one of Charlie’s hit movies that is the real thing and right on target.

Period costumes by Catherine Zuber also sometimes miss the mark.  But I do love the character’s names that Clifford Odets came up with as well as the opening voice over concerning cell phones and hard candies.  But THE BIG KNIFE was a letdown leaving me hungry for the 1955 film version and a big bag of popcorn.  Through June 2^nd.

www.roundabouttheatre.org  Photos:  Joan Marcus

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It’s 1937 and Chauncey Miles (Nathan Lane) headliner at The Irving Place Theatre where burlesque is gasping its final breath and the balcony is a playground for homosexual hanky panky is picking up more than a sandwich at the local Automat in Greenwich Village. 

It is here that he meets a young, naïve and attractive guy from Buffalo Ned (a charismatic Jonny Orsini) who has heard that he might meet someone at this particular Automat at this particular time.  Not divulging his true identity Chauncey charms as well as shares his sandwich with the hope that they can meet around the corner at the newsstand and continue their forbidden homosexual tryst.  An act forbidden in the eyes of Mayor LaGuardia, who is cracking down – raiding and arresting.

And so THE NANCE a brave, powerful and disturbing new play by Douglas Carter Beane begins.  Focusing on their growing relationship on stage and off with lots of Burlesque skits and numbers that sometimes beautifully comment, Chauncey the house “nance” camps up a storm on stage with a wink here and a leer there speaking in sexual double entendres that would make a grown man groan aided by his on stage partner Efram (a perfect Lewis J. Stadlen) who doesn’t appreciate the fact that Chauncey is gay and has brought his new discovery into the act and flaunting his odd lifestyle.

There are also three strippers that are hatched from the same egg as the three strippers in GYPSY – only not as successful.  Cady Huffman (Sylvie) Jenni Barber (Joan) and Andrea Burns (Carmen – the hot tamale from Brooklyn) are lots of fun.  But the skits are repetitive and begin to wear out their welcome.  Some easy enough to accomplish cuts from the otherwise excellent direction by Jack O’Brien could have made this show tighter, focusing more on Ned and Chauncey.

Rather Chauncey and Ned – after all Chauncey should get top billing – he’s the star at The Irving Place Theatre and the Lyceum where THE NANCE is holding forth.  Nathan Lane is giving a powerhouse and controlled bravura performance.  He cannot accept the innocent and true love that Ned offers him.  He is entrapped in his own mental self loathing anguish not being able to realize that we are all worthy of finding someone to love and not have a series of quick, casual and anonymous sexual encounters.

Newcomer Jonny Orsini is a major discovery for Chauncey as well as for us.  He is star material and more than holds his own with Mr. Lane.  He’s a natural with a kilowatt smile.  They make a beautiful odd couple and Ned’s true passion for Chauncey is heart wrenching.

The spectacular revolving set by John Lee Beatty that goes from the automat to Chauncey’s apartment to onstage/backstage at the Irving Place Theatre and a Courtroom helps the transitions tremendously.  The costumes by Ann Roth are appropriately tacky for the strippers and Burlesque scenes.  Original music by Glen Kelly keeps everything buoyant and bubbly.

THE NANCE could be one of the most important fairy tales ever told.  It’s historical and hysterical and hits you right in the gut and heart.

Please go.  Another fine Lincoln Center Theater production – www.lct.org  Photos:  Joan Marcus

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The Richard Greenberg prolific writing factory has been working overtime this season.  With mixed results.  His adaptation of BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’S has prematurely closed.  His book for the new musical FAR FROM HEAVEN hasn’t opened yet and so we wait with baited breath.  And on the boards at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre (forever the old Biltmore for me) is THE ASSEMBLED PARTIES a Manhattan Theatre Club production – a mellow yet sometimes very funny Jewish family slice of life comedy with somewhat sad overtones where some things are a bit too convenient to be believable and many loose ends remain on the loose.

The first act occurs at a 1980 Christmas dinner party in the sprawling fourteen room apartment of the Bascovs on the Upper West Side of Manhattan – at first viewed as an oversized black and white photograph prior to the start of the show.

And then the large apartment comes to vivid life as we view various scenes in various rooms as the intricate set of Santo Loquasto revolves on its turntable enabling us to see how the various characters can sometime s get lost in the hallways unable to find their way.

And that perhaps can also be said of Mr. Greenberg.  Act II takes place again at a Christmas dinner twenty years later in the living room of the same apartment and has a decidedly different tone than Act I although there are still lots of laughs.

THE ASSEMBLED PARTIES is an old fashioned play.  And that’s a good thing.  Reminiscent of prime Neil Simon with a bit of O’Henry thrown in with a saga about a ruby necklace that helps the limping plot along in the second act.

Mr. Greenberg is smart and extremely clever with words with a facility to provide many quotable quips and so he has populated his play with smart and clever characters – especially the women – who can deliver his many quotable quips with a deft touch.

He as well as we are indeed fortunate that a smooth Jessica Hecht is Julie Bascov “ruthless and strong” a once teenage actress of some renown who has a charming way of putting down others, sometimes being brutally honest and the always brilliant Judith Light is her kvetching, non political (Ha!) and opinionated sister-in-law Faye.  What a pair of aces they are.  And Lauren Blumenfeld as Mort (Mark Blum) and Faye’s daughter Shelley – a misfit of sorts – holds her own up there with these pros.  Her second act speaker phone call is tops.

As the only non blood relative who has been invited to attend the festivities by his college buddy Scotty (Jake Silbermann) the older son of Julie and Ben (Jonathan Walker) Jeremy Shamos as Jeff – looking to wrangle himself into the family is excellent.  In Act II when most of the men have died off he attempts to reconcile the differences between Julie and her younger son Tim (Alex Dreier) who is now grown and played by Mr. Silbermann.  There are too many plot contrivances – those pesky loose ends – that simply do not pay off.

But THE ASSEMBLED PARTIES directed with finesse by Lynne Meadow is honest and real and full of surprises with Jewish expressions peppered throughout where everything seems to be right but isn’t and never fully explained.

Through June 2^nd.

www.TheAssembledPartiesBroadway.com

www.ManhattanTheatreClub.com Photos:  Joan Marcus

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Can it be possible?  Can MOTOWN, the musical produced and written by Motown’s founder Berry Gordy (an excellent Brandon Victor Dixon) run off with many of the musical awards this season? 

Coming in under the radar and without big name stars portraying some of the biggest names in Motown musical history – Diana Ross (the sensational, brilliant and beautiful Valisia LeKae), Smokey Robinson (Charl Brown),  Marvin Gaye (Bryan Terrell Clark), Mary Wells (N’Kenge) and Stevie Wonder (Ryan Shaw) – MOTOWN succeeds brilliantly with its incredible cast who all deliver terrific performances.  Sometimes we feel that they are the actual stars so fine are their portrayals.  Portrayals that never become clichés or caricatures of these most famous and larger than life personalities.

There is also a very young boy with an old soul – Michael Jackson – portrayed magnificently by Raymond Luke (alternating with Jibreel Mawry) who has that same sparkle of genius and rouses the audience to a fever pitch in Act II.

MOTOWN the musical, from its very first notes fires up the audience and never lets its entertainment values diminish for almost three jam packed, hit parade hours of the famous and beloved songs that came out of the small independent studio founded by Berry Gordy in Detroit Michigan.

A man who had a dream and who would never let go of it, until he arrived on Broadway at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre to showcase and to remind us all of those fabulous songs that many of the audience sang along with.  It’s that kind of show.  And it’s wonderful that so many people know and admire and feel the love coming across the footlights and honor the artists by sending their love back to them in tribute to all their fine accomplishments.

This is not a traditional book musical.  The book, as it is, is merely the connective tissue to lead us through the musical history and legacy of Motown’s extensive catalog – a legacy of love.  And it shows. 

From the incredibly inventive set by David Korins to the eye popping costumes by Esosa (especially the gowns for Diana Ross), the masterful lighting design by Natash Katz (there seem to be as many light cues as there are notes of music) and the inventive choreography by Patricia Wilcox and Warren Adams that time travels through the years starting in 1938 to 1983 where the show begins with the 25^th Anniversary celebration of Motown where all of its stars are gathered to pay tribute to the egotistical, creative and stubborn man of the hour Mr. Berry Gordy who may or may not be attending.  That’s the set up under the inspired direction by Charles Randolph-Wright.

What follows is the truest form of celebration that grabs the audience immediately and never lets up.  Berry Gordy wanted to be loved and to share it with everyone no matter what their race or color.  If we don’t discover the deepest details and if he comes out unscathed it matters not.  MOTOWN the musical is a marathon of pure entertainment and deserves the sixteen million dollar advance and sold out houses.  MOTOWN is a blast – signed, sealed and delivered.

www.Motownthemusical.com  Photos:  Joan Marcus

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The much ballyhooed, highly hyped, multiple award winning Royal Shakespeare Company musical MATILDA has opened on Broadway with four young girls alternating in the part of the highly intelligent, telekinetic, precocious and somewhat naughty heroine Matilda Wormwood – an extremely hard working ten year old Milly Shapiro at the Saturday April 13 matinee that I attended, looking somewhat like Eloise.

It’s a case of The Emperor’s New Clothes – we are led to believe this is a great show lest we be considered incompetent when in reality there is not much to admire.  In fact, after Act I was finished, so was I.  In fact, I was livid.

Livid over the fact that I could not understand what was being said on stage from K101.  A combination of British accents, impossible diction and horrible sound design by Simon Baker – leaves most of the audience in the dark as to what is being uttered on stage.

MATILDA the musical is simply unintelligible.  And loud, beyond belief.  In fact, one song is titled LOUD.  One would think that being so loud one could hear what is being said and sung.  And that’s not right.  It’s a shame.  And inexcusable.

Based on the 1988 novel by Roald Dahl, Dennis Kelly has adapted the book and Tim Minchin has supplied music and lyrics for the many tunes.  Only one is memorable “When I Grow Up”.

The usually gifted director Matthew Warchus has lost his golden touch aided and abetted by Peter Darling as choreographer whose choreography borders on the robotic.

There is a mixture of styles and tone.  There are multiple story lines all fighting each other for the spotlight and to be heard.  And Act II opens with that dreaded audience inclusion.

Matilda Wormwood’s parents are horrible.  The over the top mother (Lesli Margherita) is a ballroom dancer forever rehearsing with her Latin partner Rudolpho (Phillip Spaeth) and her dad (Gabriel Ebert) a dishonest used car salesman who berates her for being born a girl – they would have preferred another son (Taylor Trench) who is a dead head and addicted to the television unlike Matilda who loves words, and books and numbers and wants to change her life and be kind to others and to do the right thing.  Everything her cartoon parents do not want to do. Or have her do.

And so she tries to escape at school where she meets the lovely and caring Miss Honey (Lauren Ward – looking very much like J.K. Rowling) and a kind librarian Mrs. Phelps (Karen Aldridge – looking very Jamaican bringing to mind Harry Belafonte’s huge hit). 

Matilda makes up stories and tells them to Mrs. Phelps – in installments.  And here is where we miss most of the dialogue – in the storytelling which makes for a long and tiresome evening despite the special effects thrown is to keep our attention from lagging.  Unfortunately all these tricks don’t work.

The whistle blowing headmistress of the school is a nasty evil woman with quivering ultra sensitive nostrils who hates children – “maggots” – and thinks nothing of verbally and physically abusing them.  She is played by a he.  Miss Trunchbull, an Olympic Medal winner for hammer throwing, is played by Bertie Carvel in a one dimensional, one note un-glam drag performance that didn’t do much for my admiration for the production as a whole.

The set design by Rob Howell is quite attractive and suitable, not so his costumes.

Matilda might have been speaking Russian.  For that matter she does.  Supertitles or a crash course in lip reading might help.

I was so disappointed.  And livid.  At the Shubert Theatre.

www.matildathemusical.com  Photos:  Joan Marcus

NOTE:  I think it is also inexcusable that the Shubert Theatre does not have a convenient restroom for handicapped people who have to cross the street to Sardi’s to relieve themselves.  How humiliating.  Matilda would never put up with that!

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Can a bevy of high kicking and singing drag queens led on by Lola (a phenomenal Billy Porter – a composite of Tina Turner, Shirley Bassey, Whitney Houston and Effie from Dreamgirls) save the Price & Son shoe factory about to go under in Northampton England?  You bet your booty!

Not only is Billy Porter gorgeous when all done up but he has a heart and a soul that runs deep and touches us with the passion he has for all that he does.  A passion that he slowly instills in his co-star Stark Sands who portrays Charlie Price – the son of the owner of the shoe factory down on its heels, ready to close – putting many dedicated workers out of a job until he accidentally meets up with Lola and they forge an unlikely partnership.

The talented and handsome Mr. Sands’ part is far less flamboyant – in fact he plays straight man to Lola for much of the evening until he discovers and gets to follow his real passion, letting loose on the runway in Milan where a delightful Adinah Alexander rules with an iron Italian fist.

Charlie is torn between his fiancée Nicola (Celina Carvajal) a bridezilla type with her own agenda and saving his dad’s factory (nicely designed by David Rockwell) that he would rather not be a part of. 

His foreman, George (a standout performance by Marcus Neville) and Lauren – the other woman in Charlie’s life (Annaleigh Ashford – who manages to steal every scene and song she is in) pitch in to help when Lola is hired as head designer of “Kinky Boots” to fill a much needed “market niche” – supplying shoes for men who dress as women.

And please take note of the tallest and thinnest of Lola’s Angels (Charlie Sutton) – with a wild mane of hair and attitude that commands the stage especially during the boxing match.

Of course there are obstacles along the way including a heavyset worker Don (the fine Daniel Stewart Sherman) who doesn’t much care for the bloke in high heels even when he dons male garb and tries desperately to fit in.  Lola as Simon shares a most heart wrenching song with Charlie “I’m Not My Father’s Son”.  But it is as Lola that Porter has us cheering him on with each of his star turns.  It’s a magnificent performance.

Cyndi Lauper has written a fabulous score that has a modern immediacy with some great and memorable hooks that will get you all afire once the book by Mr. Fierstein gets the all too necessary exposition set up and in place.  Then the show really takes off and raises the roof of the Al Hirschfeld Theatre and has the audience cheering throughout the bravo inducing production which is a feast for the eyes, the ears and the heart as directed and choreographed by Jerry Mitchell.

Costumes by Gregg Barnes are a knockout.  Hair design by Josh Marquette is fabulous.  And those kinky boots!  They become characters unto themselves.  KINKY BOOTS is a combination of La Cage, Pricilla Queen of the Desert, The Full Monty and Dreamgirls – It is the best of the best.

If you can only see one show see KINKY BOOTS – a life affirming, passionate ode to finding the way – being accepted and accepting each other  – done with professionalism and a flair for what’s most entertaining.  Go and celebrate each other! 

www.kinkybootsthemusical.com  Photos:  Matthew Murphy

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Full speed ahead!  And the pace never lets up in this respectful yet disappointing expose of tabloid journalism by Nora Ephron circa 1985.  We are barraged by the cast with short, loud machine gun blasts of narrative spiked with profanity while beer and whiskey are devoured by the almost all male cast who portray the cronies of one Mike McAlary – ace reporter for The Daily News and The Post (ping ponging back and forth between the two) and Newsday where he started as a cop reporter in this bio-drama with some really funny lines that show off a sharp wit – Ephron’s trademark – but nary enough to call LUCKY GUY entertaining.   Headache inducing is more like it.

As brave as Mike McAlary was to take on the New York City Police Department Tom Hanks is equally brave to take on Broadway – and they were and are successful up to a point. 

Hanks is Hanks – wisely charming the audience from the outset as the real McAlary wasn’t such a great guy.  A guy with an enormous ego who loved the spotlight and was hungry for fame and his own column.  A guy who had connections, and sources, and the gift of gab that got people to open up to him. 

Not considered a great writer he eventually got a Pulitzer for his prose regarding the sodomizing by a couple of cops of Abner Louima (Stephen Tyrone Williams) in an all too brief scene that captures our interest where most of the other rapid fire and jarring short scenes do not.

Despite the heroic efforts of director George C. Wolfe (projections, actual news footage, a smoke machine to fill the stage with the ubiquitous cigarettes used, desks and chairs on wheels and some excellent casting in all the supporting roles) to make LUCKY GUY palatable it just doesn’t do it.

There’s the Tylenol case.  The Mafia.  Crack.  The Fake Rape Scandal – where we get definitive definitions of sperm and semen.  The aforementioned Abner Louima.  Jimmy Breslin – who is merely mentioned – now there was real drama between those two.  His rocky marriage to Alice (a grounded and sympathetic Maura Tierney) – all hit upon briefly.  Told.  Not shown for the most part. 

There’s his lawyer, Eddie Hayes (Christopher McDonald) who sells him his first unaffordable house and then manages to get him raise after raise when others thought he was over rated and over paid.

Act II fares better as we get to delve deeper into his life after a near fatal accident.  But his recovery is as fast paced as the rest of the show until he is diagnosed with the cancer that killed him at age 41.  The morphine drip scene is a highlight if one could call a morphine drip scene such.

With such a boisterous barrage of words, not many of them register as well as they should.

Deirdre Lovejoy is outstanding as sewer mouth reporter Louise Imerman and then as Debby Krenek – Chief Editor of The Daily News who has a tough decision to make.  Yours is whether you want to see Tom Hanks, Hollywood A-list star live in his Broadway debut doing what he does best or not to sit through a grueling speed through reading of LUCKY GUY.

At the Broadhurst Theatre.   www.luckyguyplay.com  Photos:  Joan Marcus

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