Oscar E Moore

How incredibly exciting it is to want to race home and write a review of a show that you have just seen, to spread the word at how astounding it is.  Such is the case with this reinvented, amusing and poignant production of Anton Chekhov’s tragicomic THE CHERRY ORCHARD superbly directed by Andrei Belgrader with a hint of Ingmar Bergman and Fellini and a sparkling new translation by John Christopher Jones that infuses it with renewed vigor through December 30^th only.  Put this show high on your Holiday shopping list.

Who needs to see another long, tedious, yawn inducing production of The Cherry Orchard?  Not the Classic Stage Company.   This production will snap you to attention from the very beginning.  Never underestimate the ingenuity, daring and creativity of the CSC.  Production after production amazes.  And The Cherry Orchard is one of its finest.

Scenic designer Santo Loquasto has hidden his surprise of a nursery set behind three gossamer curtains that at first seem to suffocate the audience using up the entire acting arena.  When the curtains are drawn the magic begins.  It’s a subtle effect.  In sneaks up on you that we are witnessing the lives of these characters, perhaps as a one ring circus as the round stage suggests with its miniature set pieces and rocking horse and trains all in a ghostlike ashen white palette where Madame Ranevskaya – a superb Dianne Wiest – is returning after having lived in Paris to her homeland and beloved cherry orchard that is to be sold at auction to pay off her debts.

The maid Dunyasha (Elisabeth Waterson) dressed like a Russian doll and Epikhodov – an amazing Michael Urie – Mister Disaster – a klutzy clown-like young man with his unmatched red socks further the circus atmosphere which reaches its peak in Act II as Charlotta (Roberta Maxwell) looking very much the ringmaster does card tricks and some ventriloquism.  Ms. Maxwell has some odd bits of business in the first act with the audience that at first seems to distract but it all makes sense later on.  It’s an absolutely compelling and captivating concept that surrounds this tragic story.

A charismatic John Turturro as Lopakhin who was once a peasant and has now made lots of money has a solution that Ranevskaya won’t be bothered with.  If you know of any farmers out at the Eastern end of Long Island who have been forced to sell their valuable family land for some land developers who want to subdivide, build, sell and make millions Mr. Turturro has nailed the portrayal of such a character.  Late in Act II he has a touching and heartbreaking proposal scene with the older daughter Varya (a strong and radiant Juliet Rylance) that is another brilliant directorial touch.

As stubborn as Ranevskaya is to resist change, the perennial student Trofimov (a fiery Josh Hamilton) embraces it as their only salvation.  Her brother Gaev (a debonair Daniel Davis) gives in; eventually obtaining a job. The always looking for a loan Pischik (a fine Ken Cheesman), Anya the young daughter (a fragile Katherine Waterson), Fiers the mumbling dedicated old servant (a remarkable Alvin Epstein) and Yasha (a seductive Slate Holmgren) a young, egotistical manservant who enjoys champagne and his own image make for a perfect cast which also includes – for the record – Michael Wieser, Ben Diskant and Bentley an adorable well mannered dog.

Beautiful and imaginative costumes by Marco Piemontese, atmospheric lighting by James F. Ingalls, the fantastic original music and sound design by Christian Frederickson & Ryan Rumery and choreography by Orlando Pabotoy make this Cherry Orchard an unforgettable theatrical experience.

www.classicstage.org

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The Peccadillo Theater Company has to be applauded for attempting to revive this dated albeit classic 1939 The Man Who Came to Dinner and employing twenty three actors in the process which doesn’t include all of the creative staff needed to try and breathe some life into this very old fashioned relic and out of fashion comedy written by Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman.

But all the period music, costumes, wigs, elaborate setting and fine acting can’t put this comedy back together again.

One can only imagine the fun that Kaufman & Hart had coming up with the zany plot that includes references to their many show biz friends and acquaintances and fashioning a cavalcade of characters after them – especially the lead based on Alexander Woolcott – herein becoming the irascible critic, wit, lecturer and radio personality Sheridan Whiteside portrayed by Jim Brochu in a tailor made part but in a less than commanding manner.  Perhaps he was feeling under the weather during the preview performance that I saw as he was coughing a lot.  But this usually excellent actor who was brilliant in Zero Hour fails to deliver the Christmas present of a performance that one expects.

It’s a splashy role, this Sheridan Whiteside, a man who doesn’t mince words and has a thousand insults on the tip of his tongue just waiting for any victim to dare to cross his path.

A man who agrees to come to dinner at the home of Ernest and June Stanley in Masalia, Ohio on his way to Hollywood – where he slips on some ice on their front porch which lands him in a wheelchair recuperating from a fractured hip and overtaking their home, telephone, staff and lives in the process making for what should be a night of high comedy in three acts.

Despite the strong performances of many of the cast, this production directed by Dan Wackerman doesn’t quite gel as well as their previous revival of Room Service which I loved.

Scott Evans was in that production playing approximately the same type of “Juvenile” role.  Does this guy never age?  He is fast becoming the Robert Cummings of period revivals and he is excellent as Richard Stanley who dreams of becoming a photographer.

As the put upon Nurse Preen, Kristine Nevins adds some deft comic touches to her characterization.  Amy Landon as Maggie Cutler, Sheridan’s secretary holds down the fort with her grounded and honest portrayal as a woman who has finally found love.  Falling for the local news writer and author of a play – Bert Jefferson (a fine Jay Stratton looking very much like Jimmy Stewart) that causes all sorts of twists and troubles for her.  Especially when Sherry wants to keep her from leaving him and giving the play to the famous actress Lorraine Sheldon (Cady Huffman, strutting her comedic skills in some glamorous duds designed by Amy Pedigo-Otto).

Not to be out done and stealing the thunder from one and all is the brilliant take on a Douglas Fairbanks/Noel Coward type actor – Beverly Carlton – the incredible John Windsor-Cunningham whose performance and rendition of Cole Porter’s “What Am I To Do?” – should keep St. Clements sold out until Dec 18^th.

Kristin Griffith as the mysterious Harriet Stanley commands the stage whenever she appears.  John Seidman looking like Dr. Irwin Corey is Professor Metz who brings along a bunch of cock roaches.  Also delivered are some penguins, some convicts for dinner, a mummy case and a bizarre Joseph R. Sicari as Banjo channeling Jerry Stiller channeling Harpo Marx.

It’s a mixed bag of styles at best.  Some laughs.  Some groans.  Some nice comedic performances.  And lots of wonderment at how The Man Who Came to Dinner was ever so successful.

www.ThePeccadillo.com Tickets $25.00   Photo:  Carol Rosegg

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Jay Armstrong Johnson

This titillating new play by Thomas Higgins centers around a weekend camping trip in the woods with a couple of unlikely best friend Boy Scouts, a couple of yin and yang dads and one manly, nature loving Scout Master. 

Understandably Mr. Higgins is hitting on a hot topic – sexual shenanigans turned upside down – but he detours from the three main characters in question and has so much extraneous stuff going on that what should be shocking and horrible is dulled by much that could be trimmed.  It’s a case of too little meat and lots of potatoes.

The handsome, straight (or so he insists) narcissistic and evil Matthew (a well toned, handsome and charismatic Jay Armstrong Johnson) begins the play by doing a strip tease via Skype while reciting the Boy Scout Oath as a birthday gift for his best friend on the receiving end – nerdy and 100% gay Jacob (Gideon Glick – who might do well to enunciate better and project his lines).

Jacob adores Matthew.  And Matthew adores that Jacob adores him.  Matthew wants everyone to adore him and his body.  But he is only willing to go so far and they are interrupted with the vision of their male neighbor – seen through binoculars – having sex with another man.  It just so happens that their neighbor is their Scout Master – Rodney (masculine and handsome John Behlmann).

Matthew decides to ruin Rodney in one of the best scenes of the play.  A scene of seduction where the sexual tension is thick and heavy, where he insists that Rodney admit that he wants him or he will out him forcing him to resign.  If Mr. Higgins had focused on these three I believe the play would be the better for it.

However, we get to meet the parents of Matthew:  Marsha (the talented Alice Ripley whose character is hardly there) and her unlikely husband Walter (Patrick Breen) a man who has just been fired and is talked into accompanying their son Matthew despite his aversion to sports and anything remotely connected to the outdoors.

The other dad, Larry (Daniel Stewart Sherman – who also gets to be an embarrassing Chief Wigwam) is your stereotypical overweight beer slugging macho idiot whose idea of strapping a six pack of beer to his belt is the ideal thing to do while supposedly keeping an eye on the kids – and I use the term loosely as both guys are a bit too old to be believable Boy Scout buddies.

There is another not so subtle scene of seduction where Matthew asks to be instructed by Rodney in fly casting which has him rubbing his rear up against Rodney’s crotch, rocking back and forth before casting his bait.

Director Trip Cullman can’t decide on an overall style.  Sometimes naturalistic, sometimes absurd, sometimes satiric, and sometimes bordering into Edward Albee territory, Wild Animals You Should Know’s true path remains to be found.

Through December 11^th at The Lortel.  A MCC production.

www.mcctheater.org   Photo:  Joan Marcus

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There are thousands of Chinese characters used for writing.  They are complicated.  And that is not the only thing complicated about the Chinese.  In David Henry Hwang latest culture clash play Ch’ing-lish, now playing at the Longacre Theatre on West 48^th Street you will have ample opportunity to discover what it is like to try to do business with them on their turf if that event should ever happen to you.

As the main character, Daniel Cavanaugh (Gary Wilmes) your average mild mannered, unhappily married, struggling with his sign business based in Cleveland and now trying to jump start his career in Guiyang China by landing a contract with Minister Cai Guoliang (Larry Lei Zhang) to do the signage for the new Center For The Performing Arts that has been already promised to his sister-in-law, with the help of a very necessary translator Peter Timms (Stephen Pucci) your not so average teacher from Britain has been living in China for 19 years and is now a consultant whom the Minister owes a favor and running into language difficulties, government restrictions and the Minister’s right hand “Iron Lady” Xi Yan ( an excellent Jennifer Lim) a married to a Judge (Johnny Wu) woman who will make whatever sacrifices necessary for success – you have the basic plot of Ch’ing-lish. 

If all this sounds dull.  It isn’t.  Only sometimes.  But when the translations (Jeff Sugg & Shawn Duan) hit the walls of the double turntable Chinese puzzle like set by David Korins you will be highly entertained with the mangled humor. 

When the actors revert to verbal charades – smiling and giggling in true stereotypical fashion you will also be amused.  But I found myself growing impatient until one surprise after another sets the plot in motion and the laughter growing.

But underneath all the laughter, there lies the serious matter of truth and honesty for both the American and his Chinese counterparts which aren’t fully realized until the end of the production.  We are more alike than we realize.

There are a couple of clandestine bedroom trysts with Daniel and Xi Yan – sex being the universal equalizer when words fail which further shows the differences in how the two cultures deal with sex and love.  And then there are more revelations that occur that make us realize that all is not what it seems to be – whether in Mandarin or English.

It’s an entertaining and different evening of theatre that makes you work to understand what is happening and gives fresh insight to the phrase “building a relationship.”

The actors are all first rate, with Angela Lin and Christine Lin turning in additional comic relief in cameo parts.

Leigh Silverman has fluently directed this bi-lingual cast.

www.chinglishbroadway.com   Photo:  Michael McCabe

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A remarkable and unusual new musical with beautiful words and music by Michael John LaChiusa, QUEEN OF THE MIST, will be running for only two more weeks at The Gym at Judson 243 Thompson Street @ Washington Square South. 

I strongly urge you to see this emotionally packed, entertaining and inventive production by the Transport Group Theatre Company directed by Jack Cummings III that is stamped throughout with his distinctive style and eye for detail nicely complemented by the choreography of Scott Rink. 

It is incredibly thrilling when all of the theatrical elements that make for a classic musical come together – the fantastic lighting effects by R. Lee Kennedy, sound design by Walter Trarbach (that transforms an acoustical nightmare of a gymnasium into a listening pleasure), simple yet precise period costumes by Kathryn Rohe (note the shoes), scenic design by Sandra Goldmark that evokes the turn of the century with a bit of lace which allows us to view the orchestra playing the phenomenal orchestrations by Michael Starobin – each and every component allowing for the freight train performance of its leading lady Mary Testa as Anna “Annie” Edson Taylor – a 63 year old widow who seeking fame and fortune decides to use her wit, intellect, scientific knowledge and her great ability to talk almost everyone into anything – to shoot the Falls at Niagara in an oaken barrel of her own design.  And survive.  A true story.

If she were writing this review the line outside the Gym at Judson would curl right around Washington Square Park twofold.  As well it should with yours truly suggesting such.

You will not be disappointed as I falsely believed I might have been. What a strange subject for a musical I thought.  Well, I was overwhelmed by this production featuring not only the exceptional and stalwart Mary Testa in a role perfect for her multi talents – portraying a woman with a fierce determination when others thought her nuts, a woman with a pure driven focus on her destiny, a woman who “thought like a man” and unfortunately believed that “pride would be her downfall” – but a cast of six other immensely talented actors.

Andrew Samonsky as Mr. Frank Russell, Anna’s Manager with his oily hair, rumpled wrinkled clothes and drunken demeanor who happens to have an equally strong presence and gorgeous voice is the perfect foil for Anna.

As her sister Jane, Theresa McCarthy brings a thoughtful and confused attitude towards Anna but always with an underlying affection and positively shines as she plays a substitute version of the woman who went over the Falls in an hilarious vaudeville act.

Carrie Nation (a forceful Julia Murney) makes an appearance as Anna tries to convince her to let her speak first on the lecture circuit taking her down a peg.  And Tally Sessions as “Man with his Hand Wrapped in a Handkerchief” – Leon Czolgosz whom she meets and inadvertently urges him to follow his passion and act on it which results in President McKinley being assassinated.

After she fires Frank she needs a new Manager and he is the wonderful DC Anderson.  As a young doughboy who remembers seeing her “stunt” when a young lad, Stanley Bahorek has one of the loveliest and touching scenes of the show with a down and out Anna selling souvenir postcards that no one wants.

Yet she remains true to herself.  As we have rooted for her in Act I to achieve her dream so do we feel for her when she starts to lose her mind, lose her speech and begin to go blind.  Where we finally see her hidden emotions emerge.

It is the soaring score, the intelligent and witty words and music filled with the melodies of Mr. LaChiusa that make QUEEN OF THE MIST so uplifting and memorable.  You will laugh, you will cry but most importantly you will be transported and remember the show and the woman who is finally getting the recognition she so longed for.

ONLY TWO MORE WEEKS.   GO!

www.transportgroup.org  Photo:  Carol Rosegg

NOTE:  QUEEN OF THE MIST will be archived on film by the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts – however that’s not the same as seeing this unique and engaging musical LIVE.

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Noel Coward’s sparring partners Amanda (the sleek, chic and ferocious Kim Cattrall) and Elyot (the debonair, callow, feisty and oh so charming Paul Gross) can’t get enough of each other. 

After being divorced for five years they find themselves on adjoining balconies at Deauville in the South of France, now married to new spouses (she to stuffy Victor – a droll Simon Paisley Day; he to the younger and prone to giggle Sybil – a perfect Anna Madeley), on their honeymoon, overlooking the yacht basin with a full moon reflected in their stemmed martini glasses.

Music is in the air as well as sexual tension – “Someday I’ll Find You” written by Mr. Coward brings them back to the days when they were first attracted to each other.  This is short lived as they quickly revert to the Punch and Judy relationship that drove them apart.  It’s delightful.

With the wonderfully witty dialogue supplied by Mr. Coward what could go wrong?  After a brilliant first act where the farcical plot is set up and we are introduced to all four characters played with great style and fun by the cast we find ourselves in the Parisian apartment of Amanda where she and Elyot have escaped to live in sin – catching up on old times, arguing some more, drinking brandy, dancing a fox trot and cavorting around the most bizarre set on Broadway designed by Rob Howell I have ever seen.

When the curtain went up it took my breath away and not in a good way.  I missed at least ten minutes of dialogue taking it all in.  It’s cavernous.  There is a mural on the wall depicting some ducks chasing fish and the piece de resistance – a huge, three tiered fish bowl with gold fish swimming about.  Disconcerting, to say the least.  A visual I shall never forget no matter how hard I try.

After that, the pace peters out.  The champagne cocktail set up by the previous act somehow looses its effervescence despite the valiant attempts to keep things afloat by everyone involve including the arrival of Victor and Sybil in pursuit of their respective spouses.  And a French maid Louise ( a woebegone Caroline Lena Olsson) who only speaks French and shrugs off the shenanigans by going about her business as if to say – oh these rich and silly people have nothing better to do, so I shall make the coffee and serve the brioche and try to straighten out the mess – as usual.

Despite the goldfish, PRIVATE LIVES is a most entertaining show with great performances by the entire cast.  Kim Cattrall is a revelation – a great comedienne and quite adept at physical comedy.  Her made-for-each-other cohort – Paul Gross in his formal wear and silk pajamas is a metrosexual’s dream come true.

Is this the ideal revival that Mr. Coward would have envisioned?  Who knows?  Perhaps if he had a fetish for goldfish he’d be delighted.

At The Music Box.  www.privatelivesbroadway.com  Photo:  Cylla von Tiedemann

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Like most seminars there are peaks and valleys, highlights and low spots, moments of boredom, moments of ecstasy and moments that are difficult to hear as exemplified in the new play SEMINAR by the gifted Theresa Rebeck just opened at the Golden Theatre on West 45^th Street.  But you won’t fall asleep at this sleeper hit of the season.

This is one very funny and smart playwright who can get into the minds of her characters and set up situations that are totally unexpected to reveal the truth and honest feelings and motivations within.

Attending this one hour and forty minute without intermission writing seminar in a large rent stabilized apartment on the Upper West Side inhabited by Kate (a delightful Lily Rabe) are three other budding novelists:  The sockless, well connected gabber Douglas (Jerry O’Connell), the sexy and sly as a fox Izzy (Hettienne Park) willing to do just about anything or anyone to get published in The New Yorker and the shy, semi nerdy Martin (the immensely likable and laughable Hamish Linklater) who can’t pay his rent but has forked over 5000 bucks to be included yet doesn’t want to let the head master of the class the very Simon Cowell infected Leonard (Alan Rickman) read his work.

Writers write to be read.  To be appreciated.  To bare their inner most secret thoughts to a hopefully adoring, paying public.  And so these four budding novelists have jumped into the writing pool to either be salvaged or ravaged by this supposed man of genius – Leonard – who has had some success as a novelist but has been hounded by a scandal and is now a journalist – his latest trip to Somalia allowing the playwright to have him leave the Seminar in question for a two week period and receive a great laugh upon his return.

 Language and sex are at the forefront in SEMINAR which is presented in a series of short scenes with the scene changes nicely choreographed in half light.  What these four have written (which is to be discussed or more likely to be torn apart after a brief scan) takes second place over who will be sleeping with whom and for what reasons, resulting in a farce like atmosphere at times which is great fun.

Sam Gold is the director.  And he is an extremely good director.  Precise.  Direct.  Adding detailed bits of business that highlight the often witty and heartfelt script that is chock full of unexpected plot twists and tricks that enables scenic designer David Zinn to exhibit his own set of surprises.

No one likes to be criticized or to be called a “Pussy” or a “Whore” which Mr. Alan Rickman does with aplomb, relishing those two words like truffles melting in his mouth.  He is contemptuous and sardonic to a fault (truthful?) and has an 11 o’clock number (read monologue) wherein he explains what will happen to Martin (Mr. Linklater) if and when he finds success as the others silently watch in amazement.  It’s a soul baring, enlightening, sad and wondrous moment of theatre.

At plays end one almost expects a sign to flash – “To be continued.” It would be most interesting to see what happens next.

www.SeminarOnBroadway.com  At the Golden Theatre West 45^th Street

Photo:  Jeremy Daniel

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Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Yip yip yip yip yip yip yip yip
Mum mum mum mum mum mum
Get a job Sha na na na, sha na na na na
Every morning about this time
she get me out of my bed
a-crying get a job.
After breakfast, everyday,
she throws the want ads right my way
And never fails to say,
Get a job Sha na na na, sha na na na na
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Yip yip yip yip yip yip yip yip
Mum mum mum mum mum mum
Get a job Sha na na na, sha na na na na
And when I get the paper
I read it through and through
And my girl never fails to say
If there is any work for me,
And when I go back to the house
I hear the woman’s mouth
Preaching and a crying,
Tell me that I’m lying ’bout a job
That I never could find.
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Sha na na na, sha na na na na,
Yip yip yip yip yip yip yip yip
Mum mum mum mum mum mum
Get a job Sha na na na, sha na na na na

Click on the above to hear the song from the AMERICAN GRAFFITI album plus some very pro and con comments!

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“Bursting with energy and eagerness”  “Conveys a note of honest emotion underneath the clowning” wrote Howard Taubman, New York Times theatre critic on March 27^th 1964 in reviewing Barbra Streisand in Funny Girl. 

These same quotes can also apply to the incandescent performance of Nina Arianda as the mysterious Vanda in David Ives’ Venus in Fur.  Not since Streisand have I been so impressed with a talent such as Nina Arianda possesses. 

There are not many parts that seem to be tailor made for the actress playing them.  There are not many parts that can catapult an actress into instant stardom.  Vanda is both for the incredibly talented Ms. Arianda who has to be a 21^st century ditz and an 18^th century dominatrix, both comic and dramatic changing from one to another in a heartbeat.  Her performance is a wonder to behold.  Not only is she a natural with impeccable instincts but she is smart.

But it takes two to tango.  Enter her co-star Hugh Dancy who also has two characters to portray.  Thomas, the writer/director of the play he is auditioning actresses for and the nobleman made submissive slave in his play-within-a-play that is based on Leopold von Sacher-Masoch’s erotic novel Venus in Furs.  Mr. Dancy is the perfect match for Ms. Arianda.  They have explosive, heated chemistry that is a kinky voyeur’s dream come true.

Who’s on top?  Who has the power?  It’s a battle between director and actress.  A struggle between mistress and nobleman.  All done with a bag of props and costumes that Vanda has brought with her to get the part she is perfect for whose character’s name is Vanda.

Thomas has gone through 35 incompetent actresses, as he tells his fiancée Stacey on the phone – searching for a sexy, articulate and youngish woman and is about to give up when Vanda bursts into the rehearsal studio during a thunder storm with a seemingly wet umbrella – late – having been stuck on the subway and then finding her name not on the list. Fuck, Fuck fuck fuck fuck has never been so amusing.

She persuades Thomas to let her read for the part.  She has a script.  Impossible.  No one has the script.  She knows the lines.  How?  She knows how to adjust the lights.  She begins to take over, has ideas about the direction and the writing.  Who is she?  Good question.

I feel that the playwright Thomas aka Ives has conjured her up as his ideal woman and she, Vanda, is completely of his imagination.  Sex play and all.  I cannot prove this nor is it implicit in the writing of David Ives.  But he is so smart and so clever – who knows?

The other brilliant person involved in this production is director Walter Bobbie who served the same function for Mr. Ives’ School for Lies – which was incredibly witty and produced by the Classic Stage Company where Venus in Fur also started.  Mr. Bobbie knows how to take his time on stage with his actors and knows just the right detail and nuance to make both performances soar.

But the play itself, ummm, I feel it’s too long (almost two hours without an intermission) and repetitive and sometimes we wait for the antics of Vanda to perk up the proceedings which she does without a doubt, magnificently.

To quote Sam Lesner, The Chicago Daily News June 6, 1963  regarding Ms. Streisand – “Sparkling and fresh”  “Quite new and exciting.”  Ditto for Nina Arianda!

www.venusinfurbroadway.com                            Photo:  Joan Marcus

Produced by Manhattan Theatre Club at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre

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The cover of the PLAYBILL for Other Desert Cities by Jon Robin Baitz isn’t the only thing that has been changed for this production which has now transferred to the Booth Theatre on Broadway from its original Off-Broadway incarnation at Lincoln Center Theater earlier this year.

Rachel Griffiths has taken over for Elizabeth Marvel in the pivotal role of Brooke Wyeth and Judith Light has replaced Linda Lavin as her aunt Silda Grauman – no mean feat. 

Other Desert Cities plays better with these two replacements.  Rachael Griffiths, a young Jane Alexander – full of fierce passion and vulnerability and Judith Light who is far more humane a person and not the shot-out-of-a-canon-comic-character that Linda Lavin can and did and does play blindfolded make for a  more balanced production.

Act I resonates with sharp, dry sarcastic humor.  But it is the second act that is still troublesome.  Turning far more serious where secrets are revealed does not mitigate the fact that all of these people are horrible.  The melodramatic revelations are hard to accept and deflate much of what has been built up.

That being said, the performance of Stockard Channing as the matriarch Polly Wyeth has mellowed, deepened and become more sarcastic if that’s possible.  Stacy Keach remains as good as ever.  And Thomas Sadoski as Trip Wyeth – the mediator – has settled into his role and matured.  Other Desert Ciities could stand some trimming and tightening.

Here is my original review posted on January 27^th 2011.

Spending Christmas Eve with your family can sometimes be a trying experience. Especially if you belong to the very rich, very Republican Wyeth family celebrating the holiday in their very pristine beige living room in very sunny Palm Springs, 2004.   Celebrating is perhaps not the correct word.  It’s more like pretending to celebrate.

Pretending is the operative word here.  And playwright Jon Robin Baitz in “Other Desert Cities” now running at the Mitzi E. Newhouse at Lincoln Center seems to have mastered the art of having his characters pretend so well that they believe what it is that they are all trying to deny. 

Once we meet them, it’s hard to imagine this family exchanging the exquisitely wrapped gifts so perfectly arranged under the artfully decorated artificial Christmas tree. As artificial as they are with each other.  Keeping secrets.  Pretending.

That is until rebellious Brooke (Elizabeth Marvel) after a six year absence from family and writing due to a long bout of depression drops a bombshell.  Actually it’s a manuscript.  A memoir.  About to be published.  Dealing with a very private family matter that sets the plot a turning and a twisting.

Her mother Polly (Stockard Channing) sounding and looking every inch the Right Wing woman that she is when she isn’t sounding and looking every inch a tough, acerbic Marine is incensed that Brooke had the nerve to even write about the death of her brother Henry.  Her dad Lyman (Stacy Keach) an ex-actor, friend of the Reagans and the Annenbergs and ex- Ambassador refuses to comment.  Baby brother Trip (Thomas Sadoski) a TV producer of questionable taste mediates while Polly’s sister and ex-writing partner Silda Grauman (the amazing Linda Lavin) tries to stay on the wagon – whiffing instead the vapors of some booze brewing in a cup of tea.

Fun and family games are played out as the truth of the situation slowly emerges leading to a somewhat melodramatic ending where we are left wondering why it took so long for them to reach this level of communication.  And wondering what happens next.

Director Joe Mantello has guided his couldn’t-be-better-cast with great craft.  Guiding them through their perilous journey at telling the truth, dropping pretences, accepting the consequences of their actions (or not) and coming to terms with the how and the why of brother Henry’s death – his true character, his anti war sentiments, his involvement in a bombing – all put forth in Brooke’s tell-all memoir.

The perfect Palm Springs set is by John Lee Beatty.  The honest costumes designed by David Zinn.  Kenneth Posner has added appropriate lighting to enhance the stage pictures created by Mr. Mantello, especially the final tableau.

www.lct.org   Photo:  Joan Marcus

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