Archive for category “On the Aisle with Larry”

Walden, TheatreWorks Hartford, 26 August 2021

Lawrence Harbison, the Playfixer, ordinarily brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York; but since the New York theatre is closed down for the foreseeable future, in this column Larry reports on a show you can stream on your computer or other preferred gizmo. 

And now for something completely different: TheatreWorks Hartford is streaming their production of Amy Berryman’s Walden but unlike other streamed productions I have seen during the Pandemic, this one takes place outdoors. The set is a cabin in the woods with actual woods as its backdrop, with an adjacent chicken coop. The audience (socially distanced, of course) is given headphones. It’s a brilliant device which greatly enhances the intimacy of this very intimate play.

The play is set in the near future and focuses on two sisters – Stella, a “space architect” and Cassie (short for Cassiopeia), an astronaut. Stella and her boyfriend Bryan, whose cabin we peer into, are endeavoring to make a brave, sustainable new world. There have been major advances in space exploration as well as a burgeoning environmental movement called Earth Advocates, and much of the play concerns arguments about how to save our planet, the merits/demerits of space colonialization and synthetic foods, and if it is more ethical, even possible, to live with no electricity.

Director Mei Ann Teo has created a unique form of site-specific theatre, assisted brilliantly by her designers, most notably You-shin Chen, whose cramped cabin set greatly enhances the intimacy of the play and sound designer Hao Bai, who makes you feel almost as if you are in the cabin with these fascinating characters. The actors, Diana Oh (Stella), Jeena Yi (Cassie) and Gabriel Brown (Bryan) are all first rate.

While we wait for live, indoor theatre to get going again, you couldn’t do better than stream Walden. Tickets: Buy: Walden (IN PERSON) (force.com)

 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who actually does strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

— Theodore Roosevelt

Share

Ann Crumb (from my Memoir, “200 Times a Year. My Life In, At and Around the Theatre”)

Ann Crumb

From my Memoir, 200 Times a Year. My Life in, At and Around the Theatre

I first saw Ann during the summer of 1972. I was working on the University of Michigan grounds crew, starting grad school in the fall. I was on the grass cutting crew, but it hadn’t rained for eight weeks so there was no grass to cut. When we came in every morning, essentially we were told to go someplace and lay low. I chose the Undergraduate Library, where I sat and read plays all day. One day, tired of all that reading, I moseyed over to the Theatre Dept. to scope it out and heard a rehearsal going on in the Trueblood Auditorium, so I slipped in and sat in the back to watch. An energetic little man (more about him in another chapter) was staging a scene from A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE FORUM. It was the scene at the house of Marcus Lycus, with the three courtesans. I couldn’t take my eyes off the girl playing Tintinnabula, who was a wonderful dancer and very beautiful. Of course, this was Ann.

Ann was not a theatre student — she was getting a degree in speech pathology – but she was one of the stars of the Ann Arbor theatre scene. I didn’t really know her very well, though,  until after I moved to New York. I went to see a children’s play by David Mamet, REVENGE OF THE SPACE PANDAS, at St. Clements, to see an actress who was in a play I had directed off off Broadway. Ann came to the play, too, to see her friend Margo Martindale (more about her in another chapter), and we reconnected. She invited me over to her apartment for dinner, and we really hit it off. I lived nearby, so I started spending most evenings there when I wasn’t at the theatre.

After finishing her degree, Ann had moved to Philadelphia to work at a hospital there, treating aphasia in people who had had a stroke. She missed the theatre, though, so she auditioned for a class at the Hedgerow Theatre. This was typical of her, thinking she needed to take a class. Ann had a huge inferiority complex. Well, after her audition they offered her a job on the faculty, so she taught at Hedgerow for a while in the evenings, after a full day at the hospital. Then a non-Equity touring production of EL GRANDE DE COCA COLA in Philly lost an actress, so the producer called the Hedgerow and asked if they could recommend anyone. They recommended Ann and she got the job. From that, she went into a production in Philly of STARTING HERE, STARTING NOW, a revue of the songs of Richard Maltby and David Shire, which got her her Equity card. She then did a couple of seasons at the Philadelphia Theatre Co., playing Ophelia opposite John Glover’s Hamlet and several other roles, before moving to New York. When I reconnected with her, she was working as a secretary in a law office. She wasn’t even auditioning. Well, I viewed this as a huge waste of talent, so I made it my obsession to help her believe in herself again, and to get her back to the theatre. She was full of excuses. She said she couldn’t audition because she had a lousy headshot, so I gave her money for a new one. Then she decided she needed her hair styled before she could go to a photographer, so I gave her money for that. She spent my dough on vet bills for dogs she had rescued. She was an indefatigable dog-rescuer. Finally, she got her hair done and her new headshot, and started going to Equity open calls, mainly for musicals. In those days, open calls actually could lead to a job.

By this time, I was head over heels in love with her.

Around about then, she got her first agent. I took her to a French restaurant, A La Fourchette (which closed many years ago, alas), to celebrate. Bob Bennett, a stage manager friend of mine, had told me I had to see a show which was getting a lot of buzz, playing late nights after his show at what is now the Westside Arts Theatre, a revue about the Boswell Sisters called THE HEEBIE JEEBIES, so we went to see it. This turned out to be PUMP BOYS AND DINETTES. What a night! After it transferred, I saw the show several times. It’s one of my all-time faves.

Ann finally got a Big Break when she was cast as Andrea Marcovicci’s understudy in the title role of the musical NEFERTITI, which was to open in Chicago before coming to Broadway. Alas, the show closed in Chicago. When she got back to New York, she decided she needed a vocal coach. Bill Schuman, one of the top ones, told her she had to audition for him. At the time, Bill was the vocal coach for EVITA, which was casting its first national tour. After hearing her sing, Bill called the casting director and said he had in his studio one of the greatest voices he had ever heard. She auditioned, but the producers decided to go with an actress who had done the role on Broadway since there was only going to be a week of rehearsals. Harold Prince’s assistant was starting to direct productions around the country, though, and he started to cast Ann; so she played Eva Peron at several theatres. I saw her at Theatre by the Sea in Rhode Island. She was astounding.

Lest you think that Ann only did musicals, early on in her career she played in a terrific production of Witkiewicz’ THE MADMAN AND THE NUN at Theatre Off Park, for which she got her first NY Times review – a rave – and played Miss Scoons in the NY premiere of Sam Shepard’s ANGEL CITY at the Impossible Ragtime Theatre, directed by Ted Story (more about my involvement with this in my chapter on Samuel French). I recommended her for both roles. She also played Maggie in CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF at Tennessee Rep.

Her next Big Break came when she was cast in the ensemble of LES MISERABLES, understudying Randy Graff as Fantine. When Randy left for a week’s vacation, Ann went on. She invited me, and this was one of my greatest nights at the theatre. I still get chills when I hear her voice in my head, singing “I Dreamed a Dream.” She did the show for several months, then Trevor Nunn cast her in the ensemble of CHESS, understudying the roles of Florence and Svetlana. Marcia Mitzman (Svetlana) was sick during most of the preview period, so Ann did the role, wonderfully. She then was cast as Fantine in the first national tour of LES MISERABLES.

While she was at the Walnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia, she got a call to audition for a supporting role in a new Andrew Lloyd Webber musical which was opening in the West End, so she came back to New York for her audition. Her vocal coach prepared a medley for her of Lloyd Webber’s hardest songs, and while she was singing who should barge in but Lloyd Webber himself, wanting to know who that voice was. He took her into another room, played the score of ASPECTS OF LOVE and asked her to sing the songs he had written for Rose Vibert, the female lead. A week later, her agent called. She was cast in the role, starring opposite Michael Ball.

ASPECTS OF LOVE was a huge hit in London, and Ann was the toast of the town. Well into the run, she was injured when a treadmill came on too early in a blackout while she was changing costumes. It caught the heel of her shoe and dragged her across the stage, jamming her foot into where the treadmill went back under the stage, mangling it. She was rushed to a hospital, where she got a big surprise: her insurance through American Equity wouldn’t cover her because she was not acting in an American show. She was part of the exchange program between the Equities. When the unions had set up this program, apparently it had never occurred to them what would happen if someone got hurt.  She was told her only option was to sue the producer, Lloyd Webber’s Really Useful Company, and the theatre owner, Cameron MacIntosh. MacIntosh pulled her out of a National Health Hospital and got her into a private one in St. John’s Wood. The Really Useful Company paid for everything, including several operations on Ann’s foot. Eight months later, she opened on Broadway, wearing special orthopedic shoes designed for her foot. In London, the stage floor had been cobbled. On Broadway, the cobbles were two-dimensionally painted so Ann could walk.

By this time, Frank Rich of the NY Times had decided he had had it with “bloated British mega-musicals,” so he panned the show – quite ironic when you consider that ASPECTS OF LOVE is a small scale, intimate musical. Despite Rich’s pan it held on, building an audience, so the Times began running negative pieces about it, trying to twist the knife. Although the show was nominated for a Tony Award, Ann herself was snubbed. Ann’s contract for Broadway was for a year, but for 8 performances a week, which Ann couldn’t do, not only because of the difficulty of the role but also because of the pain in her foot, which Lloyd Webber considered to be a violation of her contract. That was the excuse. The reason was that he had decided he could turn the show into a hit by replacing Ann with a star. The role was offered to several stars, one of which was Patti Lupone, who told the casting director that she was unavailable as she was in a TV series and, anyway, she couldn’t sing the role. She said she knew of only one actress who could sing it. “Who?” asked the casting director. To which Lupone replied, “Ann Crumb.” She then called Ann and told her about this, which is when Ann learned that she was being replaced, although she had heard rumors. Then Sarah Brightman, Lloyd Webber’s estranged ex-wife who had become a star when she played Christine in THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, decided she would like to play Rose. She was angry that the film of THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA in which she was to play Christine was delayed and Andrew wanted to mollify her as the couple were in the midst of a contentious divorce, so he gave her the role. He then closed down the production and rehearsed Sarah for three weeks with a full orchestra and cast. He also re-orchestrated the role, lowering it so she could sing it. It was the most expensive cast replacement in Broadway history. When Sarah was ready, critics were re-invited. They were unimpressed (particularly, Rich), so the show closed a few weeks later.

Meanwhile, Ann decided to accept a settlement offer rather than sue, concerned that if she sued this might harm her career, and rightly so. Word got out about this settlement anyway and she became persona non grata to the casting directors, who were afraid of incurring the wrath of Lloyd Webber and MacIntosh. Was she blacklisted? It’s hard to say, but it is undeniable that she went from being considered for every show to having no auditions. She received a big chunk of money, though, which she used to buy the second floor of an old church in Brooklyn Heights, which she converted into a fabulous loft with stained glass windows and a cathedral ceiling.

A year or so later, I got a call from Nancy “Pinkie” Bosco, Circle in the Square’s literary manager (as well as the wife of the great actor Philip Bosco). Pinkie told me that the theatre was going to do a production of a musical version of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina and asked me if I could recommend anyone for the title role. They had done a workshop of the show with Melissa Errico as Anna, but had decided she was too young for the role. They had considered several actresses recommended by their casting director but felt none were suitable. Mind you, this was at a time when the casting directors seemed to have “forgotten” about Ann. Pinky hadn’t, though, and when I told her Ann was perfect for the role she agreed, and Theodore Mann, the theatre’s Artistic Director (who was directing the show) cast her. The show wasn’t very good, partly because Ted Mann was not an experienced director but mostly because the two guys who wrote it hadn’t seen LES MISERABLES. How can you do a musical adaptation of another great 19th Century novel without having bothered to see LES MISERABLES? Although the reviews for the show weren’t very good, Ann’s notices were excellent and she received a Tony nomination. Alas, ANNA KARENINA was Ann’s last Broadway show.

In London, though, she was still a star from ASPECTS OF LOVE. She played Louisa in the London premiere of NINE, opposite Jonathan Pryce as Guido Contini. There is a recording of this production on You Tube, so you can hear her thrilling renditions of Louisa’s two songs, “My Husband Makes Movies” and “Be On Your Own.” She also starred in the London production of THE GOODBYE GIRL, in the role originated on Broadway by Bernadette Peters. Back in the U.S., she did tours, most notably a hugely successful one of MAN OF LA MANCHA, in which she played Aldonza opposite John Cullum’s Cervantes/Quixote. I saw it in Baltimore and Ann received a screaming standing ovation at her curtain call. She was offered the role in a Broadway revival starring Raul Julia but then the offer was withdrawn when the producers decided they needed a bigger “name,” who turned out to be singer Sheena Easton. The show flopped.

Ann also did some work Off Broadway. She was excellent in a revival of RAGS at the American Jewish Theatre, in which she played the role originated on Broadway by opera star Teresa Stratas and was hilariously evil in a musical version of the film Johnny Guitar, although one legacy of that was that she injured her knee during a fight scene and eventually had to have knee replacement surgery. She played in an ensemble musical about women in group therapy at the Cherry Lane Theatre, produced by my friend Carol Ostrow (more about her in a suubsequent chapter). About this time, she started doing shows in the Philadelphia area, where she was sort of “local girl makes good.” She did GOBLIN MARKET at the Wilma Theatre and several shows at the Media Center for the Performing Arts, where she played Florence Foster Jenkins in SOUVENIR and Maria Callas in MASTER CLASS. The last show she did there was a scaled down production of SUNSET BOULEVARD, as Norma Desmond, a role she had played two or three times before at theatres around the country. Anne was a coloratura soprano, but in “New Ways to Dream” she went down into the depths of her range and was astounding. I blurted out, “Oh my God!” when she did this. I couldn’t help it. When she came out afterwards, she asked me “Was that you? I knew that was you!

At this point, I have a few personal anecdotes about Ann to share with you. Ann loved Snickers bars. I always brought her a couple of them when I took her to the theatre. One night about eleven o’clock, early on in our relationship, my phone rang. I was in bed, asleep. I picked up my phone and heard, “Snick! Snick!” I got dressed and went out into a driving rain to find her some Snickers bars figuring, finally, this was gonna be my night. The entrance to Ann’s apartment was in the rear of a house. There was an alleyway which led to a heavy, black, steel door which opened onto the street. I rang her buzzer and heard her walking down this alleyway. Then the black door opened with a creak and I heard, “Did you get them? “Yes, Ann,” I said, and held up the bag of Snickers bars. A hand reached out through the door opening and took them. “Thank you,” she croaked, and then the door slowly closed with a creak and a clang. I trudged back in the rain to my apartment.

Ann could be quite a handful. She was, to put it mildly, time-challenged. Whenever I took her to the theatre she would always ask me what time she needed to be ready, and I would always tell her fifteen minutes before the actual time, in order to get to wherever we were going on time. She and her boyfriend Vince lived together when Ann moved to Brooklyn Heights, and he became one of my dearest pals, almost like a brother. Once, he told me, Ann was flying off to do a show, but she dithered and dithered. Vince kept silent, knowing if he bugged her about the time she would Just. Go. Slower. Predictably, she missed her flight. Vince helped her book another one, which was four hours later. Then he wished her a good flight and turned to leave. Ann was flabbergasted. “Aren’t you going to wait with me? She asked. “No, Ann,” Vince replied. “I want you to sit there by yourself for four hours and think about why it was that you missed your flight.”

As I mentioned earlier, Ann was a dedicated dog rescuer. She always had a least two – sometimes, three — dogs living with her. She would find dogs on the street, pay vet bills for them and then place them far and wide. She spearheaded the rescue of the dogs orphaned by Hurricane Katrina, hundreds of them, organizing caravans to deliver them to new homes all over the country. One day, I went over to her apartment to visit her and she asked me to drive her around Brooklyn Heights to look for a stray she had seen earlier in the day. After about two hours, we were unsuccessful in our search – but she wanted to keep going. It drove her nuts that she never found this dog. She paid thousands of dollars to kill shelters to hold off euthanization until she could find dogs homes. Let me tell you, there is a special shrine in Doggy Heaven dedicated to Ann Crumb.

Ann’s father, George Crumb, was a Pulitzer Prize-winning composer. He began writing vocal music, and Ann sang it all over the world, recording Grammy-nominated albums. She also had an act in which she sang jazz, performing this worldwide and recording an album, “A Broadway Diva Swings.” You can hear her on You Tube singing some of her father’s compositions as well as the best songs from her jazz album.

In 2017, Ann was diagnosed with advanced ovarian cancer. She had it all cut out and went through chemotherapy. Finally, it was in remission; but in 2019, it came back, spread all through her. She started hemorrhaging and was taken to the emergency room, but it was too late. She was brought home to her parents’ house in Media to die. I drove out there to see her one last time. She weighed less than 90 pounds and was so heavily-sedated it was like she was in a coma. I sat vigil along with Vince, her family and several friends. A day later she died, never regaining consciousness.

When I get to Heaven, I plan to look for her. I’ll just listen for the sound of barking dogs.

 

“She walks in beauty, like the night

   Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

   And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

— Lord Byron

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Share

JANE MARTIN

JANE MARTIN

Actors Theatre of Louisville’s 1981 New Play Festival (this was a few years before it became the Humana Festival), included a bill of short plays (this was before the “10-Minute Play” genre, which ATL pioneered, became a fixture in contemporary playwriting). One of these plays was a lengthy monologue entitled “Twirler,” whose author was Anonymous. I wrote about this in my chapter on the Humana Festival, but I’m mentioning it again because this is where the saga of Jane Martin begins.

We were in the Victor Jory Theatre, ATL’s smallest of their (then) two theatres, in which the audience sits on three sides. The lights came up, and there before us was a woman dressed as a majorette, holding a baton. She proceeded to tell us how she came to baton-twirling, but she never became a True Twirler until her hand was crushed by a horse called Big Blood Red. “People think you’re a twit if you twirl,” she says, “but they don’t understand it’s true meaning because it’s disguised in the midst of football. It’s God-throwing, spirit-fire.” She describes a bizarre ritual the True Twirlers enact at the winter solstice in a meadow outside Green Bay, where they stand barefoot, wearing white robes. Their ‘tons are 6 feet long, with razor blades set in the shafts, and as they twirl, their blood drips down onto the snow. “Red on white, red on white. You can’t imagine how wonderful that is. I have seen the face of God thirty feet up in the twirling batons, and I know him.” There was stunned silence at the end. I looked across the stage at the people on the other side, who were dumbfounded. We realized we had just witnessed the debut of a major playwright.

In those days, newspapers in major cities all had theatre critics, most of whom attended the ATL festival. There were also several international critics, such as Irving Wardle of the Sunday London Times. When the reviews came out, they focused on this extraordinary experience, and many speculated on who Anonymous might be. When the plays in the next year’s Festival were announced, everyone was excited that one was entitled TALKING WITH, by Jane Martin, a bill of eleven monologues, performed by eleven different actresses, one of which would be “Twirler.” Jane Martin, we were told, was the pseudonym of a Louisville writer. Well, TALKING WITH became the sensation of that year’s Festival, and the speculation as to who “Jane Martin” might be increased. Some thought she might be Beth Henley; others, Marsha Norman.

I got my boss at Samuel French to acquire the rights to TALKING WITH. This was the one deal he let me negotiate (with Jon Jory – more about this later), which was then done at Manhattan Theatre Club, with “French Fries” replacing “Cul-de-Sac,” which featured a woman attacked by a potential rapist. She pulls a handgun out of her purse, forces him to cut off his penis, and ends with her marching him off to the nearest police station, where “I want you to tell them exactly what happened to you.” Predictably, several critics decided that Jane Martin was a man-hating feminist, which was why “Cul-de-Sac” was dropped. We later included it in an anthology of short Jane Martin plays, entitled SUMMER AND OTHER PLAYS.

Actors Theatre did a bill of Jane Martin one-acts, two hilarious comedies called COUP/CLUCKS, in their regular season. When I found out that Dramatists Play Service had acquired the rights, I called Jory to express my great disappointment. I think it never occurred to him that Samuel French might want to publish them. He apologized and promised that Samuel French would have right of first refusal for all subsequent Jane Martin plays, a pledge which was honored thereafter, much to the dismay of the Dramatists Play Service.

In several Festivals up until the one in 2000, there was a new Jane Martin play, and all were the most memorable events of each year. Some were hilarious comedies, such as CEMENTVILLE, about a troupe of very low-level women professional wrestlers, MIDDLE- AGED WHITE GUYS (see my Humana Festival chapter) and the last Jane Martin Humana Festival play, ANTON IN SHOW BUSINESS, a brilliant satire of professional theatre with a cast of 6 women, playing both female and male roles; some were extraordinary dramas such as MR. BUNDY, about the impact on a community when a sex offender is released from prison into their midst and KEELY AND DU (see my Humana chapter), which was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize, losing out to THREE TALL WOMEN.

I have to say, I saw a lot of wonderful plays at the Humana Festival, but my faves were always the ones by Jane Martin. Speculation continued as to the true identity of this extraordinary playwright. Finally, most people assumed that the Jane Martin plays were the work of Actor’s Theatre’s Artistic Director, Jon Jory. I have a different theory. Here goes:

“Jane Martin” (or, “Miz Martin,” as Jory called her) was exactly who he said she was, a mysterious Louisville woman who didn’t want her identity known. She wrote “Twirler” and most of the other pieces which comprise TALKING WITH. She may have been involved with other plays, such as COUP/CLUCKS and VITAL SIGNS, another collection of monologues, though shorter than the ones in TALKING WITH. I do not think she was involved with subsequent Jane Martin plays. How do I know this?

At a Festival in the mid-1980s, I met a member of the ATL staff who seemed very mysterious to me. I asked her if she was Jane Martin, which she denied. We became friends, corresponding frequently. In one letter, she told me that she had decided to leave Actors Theatre of Louisville and try her fortune in New York. She had rented a room in someone’s apartment in New Jersey (Jersey City, I think). She had gotten a ride up to New York, and I offered to let her stay with me and then I would drive her out to New Jersey. Well, we drove out there and they guy she had rented a room from turned out to be really creepy, and her “room” was little more than a closet. Forget this, I told her, you can stay with me until you find another place. She wound up living with me for a little over a year. She continued to deny that she was Jane Martin. Why do I think she was Jane Martin? Two reasons. First, she needed a job so I offered to make copies of her resume for her, in which she listed that she had been a Rockefeller Award recipient. This award was to a playwright for a one-year residency at a theatre. The year she had the Rockefeller Award, Jane Martin was Playwright in Residence at Actors Theatre of Louisville. Second, she was concerned that she had no health insurance. She had let her Dramatists Guild membership lapse, from which she had had health insurance, so I decided to renew her membership as a present. I called up the Dramatists Guild, who told me that they had no record of her ever having been a member. I asked her about this and she went white, stammering, “I was a member … under a different name.” So, it’s pretty clear to me that my friend was, in fact, the mysterious “Miz Martin.” This was further confirmed by her parents who told me that, much to their dismay, she had signed over her Jane Martin copyrights to Actors Theatre of Louisville in order to get the rights back to a play ATL had commissioned her to write.

But what about all the other Jane Martin plays, and whatever happened to the original Jane? As to the first question, here is my theory. “Jane Martin” was actually a committee. Jory headed this committee, one of whose members was ATL’s Literary Manager, Michael Bigelow Dixon. Another was probably Marcia Dixcy, Jon’s wife. The committee would meet to decide what the next Jane Martin play would be. One year, they decided that it would be about America’s fascination with fantasy entertainment and they decided on a play about a ragtag group of professional women wrestlers (CEMENTVILLE). Another year, they decided to do a play about the abortion issue (KEELY AND DU). The committee would come up with the characters and a scenario, different members would write different parts, and Jory would put the whole thing together. Why didn’t he just reveal the truth? Because he knew, rightly, that the work wouldn’t be taken seriously if it was known that it had been created by a committee. Hence, the “Jane Martin” gambit.

As for the original Miz Martin, I am ashamed to say I broke her heart – but that’s a whole other story. She got an M.F.A. in playwriting from a major playwriting program, moved back to Louisville and eventually wound up living in northern Florida. Every once in a while, I hear from her and she tells me she’s writing again. I hope so, but this has been going on for years.

Jon Jory left Actors Theatre of Louisville in 2000. Michael Bigelow Dixon left the same year to become Literary Manager of the Guthrie Theatre which, predictably, began premiering  Miz Martin’s plays. After Michael left the Guthrie, I think Jory just took over writing the Jane Martin plays by himself, still perpetuating the myth that Miz Martin was exactly who he said originally that she was.

Why aren’t the Jane Martin plays better known? Because Jory and ATL’s Managing Director Sandy Speer (the “Jane Martin Cabal” – Speer is listed in the copyright notice in all the plays as “Trustee”) refused to allow them to be done in New York, petulant that the New York critics had begun slamming plays which had premiered at the Humana Festival. Pisses me off.

Two or three years ago, I asked Jon if Miz Martin had any new plays in the works. “No,” he said. “She has retired and is living in a yurt in Siberia.”

Share

“On the Aisle with Larry” 18 June 2021

Lawrence Harbison, the Playfixer, ordinarily brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York; but since the New York theatre is closed down until the Fall, in this column Larry reports on shows you can stream on your computer or other preferred gizmo.

The Mint Theatre is streaming another production from its recent past, N.F. Simpson’s A Picture of Autumn, a charming if rather quaint play from 1951. Although Simpson was a rather successful West End playwright, this play was apparently never fully produced – just a one-night-only reading. It’s about 3 elderly members of a once grand family living in a once grand manor house, with 18 bedrooms and 60 acres of land. The garden is going to seed, the boats at the pond are rotting away and the house is falling apart. The plot basically consists of son Robert’s attempts to persuade the old goats that they have to give up the house. His chief antagonist is cranky old Uncle Harry, whose young wife died a half-century ago in the house.

Gus Kaikkonen has done a beautiful job directing this somewhat Chekhovian play, at least in style if not in substance; but the chief pleasure in watching it comes from the fine performances, most notably from veterans Jonathan Hogan, Barbara eda-Young and George Morfogen. The careers of these three have been almost exclusively on the stage. Hogan’s goes back to Lanford Wilson’s The Hot L Baltimore in 1972, in which he played the young drifter Paul Granger III. He was a longtime member of Circle Rep’s acting company, appearing in such contemporary classics as Wilson’s Burn This and William Hoffman’s As Is, and Eda-Young’s career goes back to Leonard Melfi’s ‘60s one act classic, Birdbath. Morfogen’s was by far the longest-tenured career. He did 17 seasons at the Williamstown Theatre Festival and I must have seen him 30 or 40 times over the course of my NYC theatre-going, often at the Mint. I use the past tense, because he died two years ago. Uncle Harry may have been his last role. He was wonderful as always.

 

While this production does not make the case for the play as an unjustly neglected classic, as many Mint Productions have over the years, it nevertheless is a pleasure to watch; particularly if, as I do, miss good old-fashioned realism, which is fast going to way of the passenger pigeon and the dodo. Stream it: www.minttheater.org/streaming-series/?tab=apictureofautumn

You can also stream a new production of the Jason Robert Brown two-character all-songs musical, The Last Five Years, produced by Out of the Box Theatrics and Holmdel Theatre Company, the poignant story of the failed marriage of Cathy and Jamie. It has a unique structure. Jamie’s story is told in chronological order (starting just after the couple have first met) and Cathy’s story is told in reverse chronological order (beginning when their marriage has ended). The characters do not directly interact except for a wedding song in the middle.

This time around, Cathy and Jamie are played by black actors. They are Nasia Thomas and Nicholas Edwards, wonderful, and they sing Brown’s songs beautifully. Stream it: www.ootbtheatrics.com/l5y

If you have HBO Max, you can also stream the film of In the Heights, the Lin-Manuel Miranda/Quiara Alegría Hudes Broadway hit musical, directed by Jon Chu. It’s an exuberant feast, with a wonderful cast led by Anthony Ramos as Usnavy (originally played on stage by Miranda), who owns a bodega in Washington Heights but who dreams of returning to the Dominican Republic to reestablish his father’s business, a beach refreshment stand, destroyed by a hurricane, causing him to move his family to the U.S. when Usnavy was a young boy. Since the film is framed by Usnavy sitting at his stand in the D.R. telling his story to a rapt group of kids, we know he achieved his dream; the question is, how? Everyone in this film is delightful. My faves in addition to Ramos were Jimmy Smits, who plays a car service owner selling off parts of his business to pay for his daughter Nina’s tuition at Stanford; Leslie Grace as Nina, Melissa Barrera as Vanessa, Usnavy’s love interest, who dreams of a career as a fashion designer and Daphne Ruben Vega (the original Mimi in Rent) as a beauty salon owner forced to close her shop and relocate to the Bronx when she’s hit with a huge rent increase). Miranda himself even turns up from time to time as a neighborhood pushcart peddler.

There is quite a controversy going on over the film, which has been attacked for its casting. The attackers are upset that there are no dark-skinned Latinos in the major roles. Miranda has apologized for this (what else could he do?), but he and the rest of the creative team have added fuel to the fire by saying that they cast the best actors for their roles. Good God, they’re attacking Lin-Manuel Miranda, of all people.

I think this may be a precursor of what’s to come when the theatre finally reopens. God help theatres which don’t do a “sufficient” number of shows by of-color writers, or which don’t have a “sufficient” number of of-color actors in their casts. When audiences finally return, will they have to cross picket lines of screaming protesters? I’m all for diversity in the theatre, but this is getting ridiculous.

Broadway HD (www.broadwayhd.com) is offering for free a concert honoring the American Theatre Wing, with wonderful performances by the likes of Brian Stokes Mitchell, Laura Osnes, Heather Hedley, Norm Lewis and Santino Fontana. Stokes starts it off with a soaring rendition of “Being Alive” from Company and I thought, “That’s a tough act to follow,” but it just keeps going and going. I was blessed to see all of these great performers many times on Broadway, and it was a joy to see them again, though I couldn’t help but wonder if the Broadway they so superbly embodied will be anything like what it was once it reopens.

 

“It requires a certain largeness of spirit to give generous appreciation to large achievements. A society with a crabbed spirit and a cynical urge to discount and devalue will find that one day, when it needs to draw upon the reservoirs of excellence, the reservoirs have run dry.”    — George F. Will 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who actually does strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”   — Theodore Roosevelt

 

Share

“On the Aisle With Larry” 16 April 2021

 “On the Aisle with Larry” 

Lawrence Harbison, The Playfixer, ordinarily brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York; but since the New York theatre is closed down for the foreseeable future, in this column Larry reports on shows you can stream on your computer or other preferred gizmo. 

NJ Rep is currently streaming Sitting and Talking by Lia Romeo, featuring Dan Lauria and Wendie Malick. It’s a lonelyhearts play about a man and a woman who connect via a dating website, but they can’t do the usual – meet for a drink or coffee – because of the pandemic, so they meet for “dates” on Zoom over a period of several weeks. He’s a divorced man in his late 60s; she’s a widow. At first, she is reticent; but gradually, she warms to him. At one point, they even have Zoom sex (well they try, anyway). In the end, she’s in her zoom space laying in a hospital bed. Does she have the virus? Is she sleeping? Dead? In his apartment, he reads a Robert Frost poem to her, the one about good fences making good neighbors; but then, she appears behind him, full of love, and they have become a couple. Is this real, or is it his fantasy?

 

This is a poignant love story, given the way it has to play out. Perfect for Zoom. Lauria and Malick, longtime friends, are wonderful. But that ending. Huh?

Stream it at: www.njrep.org/plays/sittingtalking

TheatreWorks Hartford is streaming their production of Adam Rapp’s The Sound Inside, which played on Broadway just before the pandemic shut us down, featuring a titanic performance by Mary Louise Parker as a 53-year old Yale creative writing professor dying of cancer having to deal with a problematic but brilliant student, with whom she becomes increasingly obsessed. Much of the play involves direct address story-telling to the audience, a device which ordinarily I do not favor, but given that the play is in many ways about the nature of fiction, this device works pretty well. In the end, it’s all about death. Maggie Bofill is riveting as the dying professor, as is Ephraim Birney as her student.

Have you ever had the experience of reading a great novel and then being depressed when you have finished it because you don’t have it to read anymore? That’s the way I felt when I finished Hermione May’s monumental Tom Stoppard. A Life (Alfred A. Knopf, 2020). May takes us from Stoppard’s early childhood in Czechoslovakia, to India, where he and his mother lived before emigrating to England, where his family name was changed from Straussler to Stoppard and Tomas became Tom. Stoppard started out as a journalist in Brighton, began writing short stories and radio plays and then, inspired by what he saw at the theatre, started writing plays, his breakthrough being Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, which premiered at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival where, miraculously, it was seen by a London theatre critic who gave it a rave review. The National Theatre asked for the script and the rest is history. I was fascinated to read about the genesis of each subsequent play and the enormous research he did. Stoppard is an inveterate re-writer, often making changes to the text during the first run of a play, always doing this with subsequent revivals. What a treasure trove of Ph.D. dissertation material!

We learn of Stoppard’s close friendships with fellow playwrights such as Harold Pinter and David Hare, which were often adversarial as Pinter and Hare are left-wingers and Stoppard is sort of a middle of the road conservative in that he doesn’t embrace every political cause that comes down the road, except for his support of his friend Vaclav Havel’s revolution in Czechoslovakia and the persecuted Belarus Free Theatre which led to the creation of his only “political play,” Rock and Roll.

We also learn of the many women in his life, from his troubled first wife to a woman he was married to for many years, until he wasn’t, to lengthy affairs with actresses Felicity Kendall and Sinéad Cusack until finally he appears to have found contentment with Sabrina Guinness. Above all, Stoppard comes across as a kind and generous soul, someone you wish you could share a pint or two. Amazingly, he smokes like a chimney, has the same shaggy head of hair he had when he burst on the scene in the late 1960s albeit gray now – and is 84 years old. Go figure. What will probably turn out to be his last play, Leopoldstadt, about Viennese Jews in the years up to the rise Hitler closed because of the pandemic. My guess is it won’t be done over here due to its very large cast so I’ve ordered a copy. Can’t wait to read it!

After finishing the book, I went back and read his plays, which I had seen in New York, with new appreciation of his genius. Lee’s book is a must-read. It’s one of the greatest biographies of a literary or theatrical figure I have ever read.

It’s amazing what you can find on YouTube. Recently, I watched the original productions of Pinter’s The Caretaker (with Robert Shaw and Alan Bates – both great – and Donald Pleasance – astounding) and No Man’s Land. I can’t recall if I ever saw a production of The Caretaker but I did see the original production of No Man’s Land, at the Longacre Theatre, featuring Ralph Richardson as Hirst and John Gielgud as Spooner, and watching them on YouTube brought my astonished memory of that memorable evening in the theatre all back to me. I was young then, and much of Pinter’s play passed over my head. Now that I am a geezer, I am better able to appreciate the play itself, while still enjoying the great actors. 

 

“It requires a certain largeness of spirit to give generous appreciation to large achievements. A society with a crabbed spirit and a cynical urge to discount and devalue will find that one day, when it needs to draw upon the reservoirs of excellence, the reservoirs have run dry.”

 

                                                                                      — George F. Will

 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who actually does strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

 

                                                                                    — Theodore Roosevelt

 

Share

“On the Aisle with Larry” 27 March 2021

 “On the Aisle with Larry”

 

Lawrence Harbison, The Playfixer, ordinarily brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York; but since the New York theatre is closed down for the foreseeable future, in this column Larry reports on shows you can stream on your computer or other preferred gizmo. 

I saw and loved the original production over 20 years ago off Broadway of Becky Mode’s Fully Committed but missed it’s Broadway incarnation starring Jesse Tyler Ferguson. The original actor was great (who he was, I don’t remember) and I’m sure Ferguson was wonderful, too. Now, the George Street Playhouse is streaming the play, featuring Maulik Pancholy as a man who works the reservations desk at a hot-hot-hot Manhattan restaurant, the kind of joint that’s booked (i.e., “fully committed”) weeks in advance. In addition to himself, he does the voices of hordes of desperate people who simply must have a table tonight as well as singularly unhelpful members of the restaurant’s staff.

 

Pancholy is enjoyable as he juggles all the callers. He reminded me of the order dept. clerks at Samuel French when I was there – just as frazzled. But he’s not particularly funny. This is not so much because of him, but because of the medium in which the play is presented – Zoomed dramas are OK on Zoom, but comedies fall flat for lack of a live audience. www.overture.plus/Play/WatchVideo/bb30d421-f017-49c4-a9c9-6a56a7d01142

Soon, God willing and the creek don’t rise, Zoomed theatre will be an unpleasant memory as it recedes into the distant past. To which I say, good riddance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“It requires a certain largeness of spirit to give generous appreciation to large achievements. A society with a crabbed spirit and a cynical urge to discount and devalue will find that one day, when it needs to draw upon the reservoirs of excellence, the reservoirs have run dry.”

 

                                                                                      — George F. Will

 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who actually does strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

 

                                                                                    — Theodore Roosevelt

 

Share

“On the Aisle with Larry” 23 March 2021

                                                                                          “On the Aisle with Larry” 

Lawrence Harbison, the Playfixer, ordinarily brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York; but since the New York theatre is closed down for the foreseeable future, in this column Larry reports on shows you can stream on your computer or other preferred gizmo. 

Mr. Parent by Melinda Lopez, produced by TheatreWorks Hartford, is billed as a reading but it has more of the feel of a Zoomed play, albeit with one character, a gay Boston high school teacher and actor, played with great aplomb by Maurice Emmanuel. Actually, I think Emmanuel plays himself as he tells of his teaching and life adventures, speaking with anguish about the racism he experiences almost on a daily basis. He’s sassy, funny and heartbreaking.

I highly recommend this. You can stream it at www.streamevents.io/player/patronmanager/00D37000000IycoEAC!b4541036619fafac/FBA345EF9D1D6211 Access code: FBA345EF9D1D6211

Adjust the Procedure by Jake Shore is a meeting between 4 administrators at an unnamed NYC college, zoomed because the college is shut down due to the pandemic. The play might have been more dramatic had it actually been staged but here, it’s just four talking heads who discuss various issues caused by the pandemic. The play is best when the discussion becomes heated; but overall, it’s static and not very dramatic, like most Zoomed plays. https://www.stellartickets.com/o/spin-cycle–2/events/adjust-the-procedure/occurrences/cc582b8b-9349-4147-aab3-e0ec903e0c8f

Do you know about Broadway HD? I recommend it highly. You can subscribe for less than $9/month., $100/year and is well worth it. You can watch classic plays such as the  landmark 1973 production of A MOON FOR THE MISBEGOTTEN starring Colleen Dewhurst, Jason Robards and Ed Flanders, the original production of DEATH OF A SALESMAN and the recent production of PRESENT LAUGHTER, featuring Kevin Kline’s Tony Award-winning performance as Garry Essendine, and classic musicals and recent hits such as AN AMERICAN IN PARIS and KINKY BOOTS. They have just added the Broadway musical Allegiance to their lineup. This is a musical about an unlikely subject: the forced removal after the Pearl Harbor attack and subsequent declaration of war against Japan of Japanese American citizens (Nisei) from their homes and businesses. The book, by Marc Acito, Jay Kuo (who also wrote the music and lyrics) and Lorenzo Thione is based on the true story of George Takei (he of “Star Trek” fame) and his family. Takei also acts in the show, as the elderly version of the character based on himself and his own grandfather. Although Takei is rather wooden, there are fine performances here, most notably from Telly Leung as Sammy, based on Takie as a young man, Leo Salonga as Kei, the ghost of Sammy’s sister. Kuo’s score is lovely, and Stafford Arima’s direction is just right.

 

When I saw the show on Broadway, I felt that although the story of the Nisei has oft been told, this show personalized it, and I found it quite moving. As I watch this streamed version, it had an additional poignancy as a rise in violence against Asian Americans has been very much in the news of late, caused by inflammatory, racist and untrue statements about the Coronavirus made by our incompetent former president, He Who Must Not Be Named (like Lord Voldemort).

In view of All of the Above, don’t miss Allegiance. www.broadwayhd.com.

Sir Miles Malleson was a playwright, translator of Molière and character actor, both in the West End and on film. He wrote 10 plays, 9 of which were produced in the West End and on Broadway. Unfaithfully Yours, written in 1933, lay unproduced until it was staged by the Mint Theatre by their Artistic Director, Jonathan Bank. I didn’t see their production onstage, but it’s now being streamed so I just finished watching it. It’s easy to see why this is apparently the world premiere of the play. No one would touch it in 1933 as its subject is what used to be called “free love: but is now called “polyamory.” A rather contentious writer named Stephen (a rather annoying Max von Essen) can’t write because he is full of anger at everyone. His wife of 8 years, Anne, suggests that maybe what he needs is to have an affair. The return of her friend Diana, a recent widow who has been living abroad, creates the perfect opportunity. I can imagine West End managers in 1933 thinking, “Oh, I don’t think so, Miles.” Well, Diana thinks this is a cracking good idea, and the affair begins. Predictably, it does not end well.

Although billed as a comedy, I didn’t find the play particularly funny; but, as with all Mint productions, the cast and staging, by Jonathan Bank, are first-rate. Particular good are the women, Mikaela Izquierdo as Diana and Elisabeth Gray as Anne. (Stream it at www.minttheater.org/streaming-series/?tab=yoursunfaithfully

 

“It requires a certain largeness of spirit to give generous appreciation to large achievements. A society with a crabbed spirit and a cynical urge to discount and devalue will find that one day, when it needs to draw upon the reservoirs of excellence, the reservoirs have run dry.”

                                                                                      — George F. Will 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who actually does strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.” 

       — Theodore Roosevelt

 

Share

“On the Aisle with Larry” 25 February 2021

 “On the Aisle with Larry”

Lawrence Harbison, the Playfixer, used to bring you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in the New York theatre; but since the New York theatre is closed down for the foreseeable future, in this column Larry reports on Falling Stars, Little Wars, Katie Roche, Bad Dates and School Girls; or, the Mean African Girls Play, which you can stream on your computer or other preferred gizmo. 

In Falling Stars, an actor walks into an antique shop in London and discovers a stack of old sheet music of songs from the 1920s, which inspires him to sing, joined by a snazzily-dressed woman who comes out of the shadows. I am a sucker for great old songs, and there are several of them in this revue, by the likes of Charlie Chaplin, Irving Berlin, Vincent Youmans, Buddy de Silva and several others. There is some narration between songs, including a reminder that these are songs from an era when the world had emerged from two crises: the Great War and the Spanish Flu pandemic. The performers, Peter Polycarpou and Sally Ann Triplet, are pretty good though not great. If you feel like hearing some wonderful old songs over the course of a little under an hour, click here: www.broadwayondemand.com

In Steven Carl McCasland’s Little Wars, guess who’s coming to dinner? None other than Lillian Hellman, Dorothy Parker and Agatha Christie. Guess where? The home of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas. I am unsure if Gert and Alice are still in Paris or have decamped elsewhere, sure that another World War is coming. Be that as it may, the conversation is lively but that’s all this play is – conversation. The only conflict in it is between Stein and Hellman. Stein hates her (which made me wonder, when then did she invite her?) and insists upon addressing her as “Lilly Ann.” To spice things up, Hellman has brought along a writer Stein has never heard of: Dorothy Parker. Also in the mix: a young American woman who has come to ask Stein for money to help Jews escape the Nazis, and a younger French woman, a victim of sexual abuse and a Jew as well, who Stein and Toklas have taken in and who works for them as housekeeper, maid and general factotum. They, and Agatha Christie, are the most interesting characters. Stein and Hellman are Merely Cranky and Parker, Merely Weird, with little of Dorothy Parker’s legendary caustic wit (at least as played by Debbie Chazen).

Unlike Falling Stars, this is a zoomed production (lower case, as it’s actually on a Zoom clone called Vimeo). The Biggest Name in the cast is West End star Juliet Stevenson, who is wonderfully cranky as Lillian Hellman. Catherine Russell, as Toklas, employs an artificial way of speaking which I found rather grating, a word which also may be used to describe Linda Bassett’s Gertrude Stein. She’s believably Jewish, unlike Kathy Bates’ Stein in Woody Allen’s exquisite film, “Midnight in Paris,” but Bates has all of Stein’s generosity and kindness, which Bassett lacks. For all I know, Bassett ’s portrayal is more accurate, but I much preferred Bates’. Sophie Thompson is delightfully dotty as Agatha Christie, but the two most compelling performances are by Sarah Solemani as the American Freedom fighter trying to save the Jews and Natasha Karp as the housekeeper.

You can stream this by going to https://vimeo.com/474581834. By now, though, aren’t you awfully tired of zoomed theatre? I know I am.

 

 

Lately, the Mint Theatre Co. has been streaming productions of recent vintage, and I have reported on several of them. Their latest is Teresa Deevy’s Katie Roche. Deevy was an Irish dramatist in the 1930s whose plays were regularly done by the Abbey Theatre. Then Yeats stepped down as its Artistic Director, and the new management passed on this play, which so disappointed its author that she stopped writing stage plays and focused on radio drama. I don’t think the play was ever done in Ireland, but it was produced on Broadway in 1937, where it was considered to be a comedy, which mystifies me but there you have it.

Anyway, the indefatigable Jonathan Bank, the Mint’s Artistic Director, unearthed the work of this forgotten playwright and has been doing fine productions of some of her other plays, finally getting around to Katie Roche. The eponymous character is a young woman who is a live-in housekeeper to a woman whose middle-aged brother, a successful Dublin businessman, has decided he wants to marry her. Her choice is between him and a local lad her age, but with “limited prospects.” She marries Stanislaus, the brother, and proceeds to make him miserable.

While the play itself is, well, just OK, Bank’s production shines as usual. Wrenn Schmidt manages to make you care about the rather self-centered Katie, and Patrick Fitzgerald is stodgy with being boring as Stanislaus. Like everything done by the Mint, this is well worth a stream: go the www.minttheater.org to find out how.

 

The excellent George Street Playhouse is streaming a production of Theresa Rebeck’s Bad Dates, a one-woman play wherein a divorced single mother prepares in her bedroom for various dates, and then come back later to tell us about them. She has a particularly hard time finding a pair of shoes which fit as well deciding which of the 600 pairs of shoes she owns would go with the outfit she wants to wear. Occasionally, she calls her girlfriend to vent. I am reminded of a pertinent tip in a list of Tips for Women I once had: If you have a problem which you can’t figure out how to solve, bring it to us and we will help you. Don’t ask us to listen to you vent on and on about your feelings about the problem – that’s what your girlfriends are for. Andrèa Burns is delightful as Our Heroine, who works her way up to be the manager of a restaurant run by some shady Romanians and almost finds herself afoul of the law. Fortunately, one of her bad dates turns out to be a lawyer who gets her out of this jam. To stream this fine production, go to www.georgestreetplayhouse.org.

I was not able to catch the acclaimed production at MCC in NYC of School Girls; or, the Mean African Girls Play. I jumped at the chance to stream a production of the play by Theatre Squared. I am very glad I did.

The play is set in a girls’ school in Ghana, but the dynamic there is much like in any American high school. There is the Queen Bee, her acolytes and a new girl who arrives to upend this dynamic. In other words, this is something of an African riff on our “Mean Girls.” Paulina, is the Queen Bee. She’s Miss Popularity and the other girls aspire to be like her. The girls are awaiting the arrival of a talent scout for the Miss Ghana pageant, and everyone assumes that Paulina has the best chance at being selected; until, that is, the arrival of a new student, Ericka, whose father owns a local cocoa company but who up to now has been living in some place called “Ohio.” Paulina immediately perceives Ericka as a threat, not only to her dominance over the other girls but also to her selection as the local girl to appear in the pageant, primarily because Ericka’s skin is so light in color that she could pass for white, so she undertakes a campaign to get Ericka in trouble. It had never occurred to me that even in Africa a woman with light skin would be considered more beautiful than one whose skin is dark. How this all works out is the gist of this short play.

When the streaming begins, the Artistic Director of Theatre Squared gives a speech thanking all his donors, of which there are many. Then, the camera takes us into the building, up to the box office to get our ticket and then into the theatre. Why, it’s almost like a live theatre experience; though without a cell phone speech, of course. Then, we watch the play in the best seat in the house. I found this very clever and am amazed that nobody had thought of this, at least in my experience with streamed plays.

As for the production, it is first rate. The director, Vickie Washington, has cast the play beautifully and the ensemble is just perfect, with standouts being Makha Mthembu as Paulina and Amira Danan as Ericka.

Stream this by going to www.theatre2.org. 

 

“It requires a certain largeness of spirit to give generous appreciation to large achievements. A society with a crabbed spirit and a cynical urge to discount and devalue will find that one day, when it needs to draw upon the reservoirs of excellence, the reservoirs have run dry.”

                                                                                      — George F. Will

 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who actually does strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

 

                                                                                    — Theodore Roosevelt

 

 

Share

“On the Aisle with Larry” 23 January 2021

Lawrence Harbison, The Playfixer, ordinarily brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York; but since New York Theatre is closed down for the foreseeable future, Larry is reporting on plays you can stream on your computer or other preferred gizmo. 

Readers of this column know that I always have nice things to say about productions by the Mint Theatre Co. Well, I try to find nice things to say about everything I see, why is why I am such a terrible theatre critic; but particularly, ones I see at the Mint, because I believe strongly in their mission: to discover and revive plays buried in the dustbin of theatre history which do not deserve to be so lost. Ours is a throwaway culture – here today, gone tomorrow – but this is no more so than the theatre and, of course its plays. The Mint specializes in plays from the first half of the 20th Century, before I was born; but I can think of scores of plays I saw which were hot then but not now. I can think of many wonderful plays I saw at the Humana Festival which didn’t go much beyond Louisville. I have written about these in a chapter on the Humana Festival in my memoir, 200 Times a Year, and plan to write another chapter on all my forgotten faves once I finish the two chapters I am working on now.

The Mint has been generously streaming video recordings of recent, before the pandemic, productions. You can view the latest one, Lillian Hellman’s Days to Come, by going to: https://minttheater.org/streaming-series/?tab=howtowatch

I wasn’t able to see the Mint’s three previous streamed productions in their theatre  but, as it happens, I did see Days to Come. The play has much in common with the last Mint production I streamed, Miles Malleson’s Conflict. Both plays have a central female character torn between her loyalty to her class and her awakening sense of social injustice. It takes place during the Great Depression in an Ohio factory town. The workers are on strike for higher wages and the factory’s owner, Andrew Rodman, in whose home much of the play takes place, is trying to break the strike. He’s a nice enough sort of fellow, not the snarling epitome of evil one might expect from Hellman, who at that time was flirting with the Communist Party. He hires a gangster who specializes in union-busting, but he looks the other way regarding this thug’s methods. Rodman’s wife Julia, the central character, is a bored woman looking for action. She finds it in the shape of union organizer Leo Whalen, her husband’s arch-enemy.

As usual with Mint productions, the acting is terrific. My faves were Janie Brookshire as Julie, Roderick Hill as Leo and Dan Daily as the union-buster. Daily, a stalwart of the late, lamented Pearl Theatre, who shone there in Shaw and Shakespeare, is in my opinion one of our finest classical actors, the heir apparent to the late Philip Bosco. If we had a healthy classical theatre, he would be much in demand.

The reviews for this production when it first played were generally negative. I was flabbergasted when I read them. Do check out this streamed version. It is well worth it.

By the way, I signed up for Broadway HD, a streaming service with a wonderful repertoire of plays, musicals, classics, even films of plays. They have all 37 of the BBC Shakespeare plays. They have the original production of DEATH OF A SALESMAN with Lee J. Cobb and Mildred Dunnock, and they have the show that made a young, unknown actor from Australia named Hugh Jackman a star, at least in London– Trevor Nunn’s wonderful production of OKLAHOMA. I started out with the famous 1973 production of A MOON FOR THE MISBEGOTTEN, which I had the good luck to see on Opening Night during my first trip to New York. and which restored this forgotten play to its rightful place in our national dramatic repertory. Then, I moved on to the Broadway musical AN AMERICAN IN PARIS, which has some of the greatest dancing I have ever seen. Ballet stars Robert Fairchild and Jeanne Cope are not only great dancers, they are also Broadway caliber actors and singers. They are, in a word, sublime.

I am now halfway through the RSC’s landmark production of THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF NICHOLAS NICKLEBY, which took Broadway by storm in 1981.

It’s every bit as fabulous as you may have heard, with a heroic performance by Roger Rees in the title role and a heart-rending one by David Threlfall as the cripple, Smike; with great ensemble work by what seems to be a Cast of Thousands. I doubt if we will ever see its like again in our Incredible Shrinking Theatre.

 

Finally, Broadway Cares has a campaign going to raise sorely needed money to help theatre people in dire need because of this awful pandemic, for food, housing and medical assistance. Now that you have made all your political contributions to help defeat Trump and Trumpism, I can think of no more worthy a cause. Here’s a link to make a contribution: https://donate.broadwaycares.org/give/140654/#!/donation/checkout

 

 

“It requires a certain largeness of spirit to give generous appreciation to large achievements. A society with a crabbed spirit and a cynical urge to discount and devalue will find that one day, when it needs to draw upon the reservoirs of excellence, the reservoirs have run dry.”

                                                                                      — George F. Will 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who actually does strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

Share

January 2020 Column

 “On the Aisle with Larry”

Lawrence Harbison, the Playfixer, ordinarily brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York; but since New York Theatre is closed down for the foreseeable future, in this column Larry reports on streamed plays: CONFLICT, A CHRISTMAS CAROL, RUSSIAN TROLL FARM, and the films of THE PROM and MA RAINEY’S BLACK BOTTOM. 

What a dreadful year 2020 was! No live theatre since early March. It’s possible that the theatres will reopen in May, but my guess this won’t be until September, as that is Dr. Fauci’s recommendation. I check Playbill.com daily to see if there is any news.

So, I have been streaming interesting productions, some of them via ZOOM (which, I hope, will be a thing of the past – the sooner the better). The problem with these is they are here today, gone tomorrow, and this is tomorrow. Ah, well – better this than nothing.

The invaluable Mint Theatre Co. has been streaming productions from before the pandemic hit. Their latest was Miles Malleson’s Conflict, which was one of the best productions of the many fine productions I have seen (in this case, streamed) at the Mint over the years. Malleson was an actor and translator, best known for his translations of Molière, so one might assume that Conflict would be a comedy, but it turned out to be a drama (from 1924).

The play takes place in the home of a wealthy aristocrat, Lord Bellington. A young man, Sir Ronald Clive, also wealthy, is courting his daughter, Lady Dare Bellington, who is resisting marry him because she is waiting for something unknown and wonderful to happen to her. This arrives in the person of Tom Smith, an impoverished schoolmate of Sir Ronald who hopes to borrow money from him. To get him to go away, Sir Ronald gives him a considerable amount of money. Tom uses this to get back on his feet. He joins the Labour Party and stands for Parliament. His opponent? Sir Ronald. Whereas Sir Ronald is a fatuous Tory, Tom is a firebrand champion of the working class, sort of a much younger Bernie Sanders. He inspires Lady Dare, who decides to turn her back on her class and marry him. The central character, Lady Dare, is a wonderful role and Jessie Shelton was a delight in it, matched by the impassioned Jeremy Beck as Tom.

The parallels between England in 1924 and our fractious time couldn’t be clearer and, once again, the Mint has exhumed a play most worthy of exhumation. Jenn Thompson’s direction was pitch-perfect as were the set by John McDermott and the costumes by Martha Hally.

The great actor Jefferson Mays scored a triumph in a solo performance of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. His was one of the most brilliant performances I have ever had the joy to see. Dickens often did readings of his classic novel. Were he to see what Mays and his director Michael Arden have done to bring it to life, I am sure he would be as astonished as I was. The multimedia projections by Lucy Mackinnon were amazing, as was the lighting by Ben Stanton and the sound design by Joshua D. Reid.

I hope, I pray, that this will become as annual event at Christmas.

I am not a fan of Zoom Theatre, which usually is a poor replacement for Real Theatre, but I have been zooming anyway, starved for the real thing. The best of these was Russian Troll Farm, by Sarah Trancher, from Theatre Works Hartford, about five Russians in an imagining of what the disinformation dept. Internet Research Agency in St. Petersburg must be like, attempting to subvert the 2016 election in the U.S. After much amusing office banter of a general nature, Masha (who has just been transferred from the Fake News Department and the cynical manager, Nikolai, send out a string of tweets about a network of tunnels (bogus, of course) starting from beneath Disneyland, leading to the Mexican border, which are being used by Hillary Clinton’s nefarious minions as a conduit for her pedophile ring. Gancher managed to make this amusing and horrifying at the same time.

Director Elizabeth Williamson, helped by her co-director Jared Mezzocci, who did the multi-media design, managed to create the illusion that all five characters were in the same room better than any Zoomed play I have seen, and all the actors were first-rate.

Ordinarily, I don’t write about films but I am making an exception for two you can stream on Netflix, versions of two Broadway shows – The Prom and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.

I loved The Prom when I saw it on Broadway but the film is just as good, maybe better. It’s about a narcissistic crew of Broadway actors who bomb in a musical about Eleanor Roosevelt. They decide to look for a cause in order to rehabilitate their shattered reputations. They find one when they hear about a teenage girl in a small town in Indiana who has been denied permission to bring her girlfriend to her senior prom. They mission out to Indiana to lead a charge against the small-minded locals; but it is girl herself who manages to win the day (well, the night).

The cast includes Meryl Streep as a self-obsessed diva named Didi, James Corden as trés gay Barry, her co-star on the awful Eleanor: the Musical and Andrew Rannells as an out of work actor who’s been making ends meet as a bartender. Nicole Kidman shines as a chorine who has been trapped in the chorus of Chicago for 20 years. Kerry Washington is their nemesis, Mrs. Greene, the head of the local P.T.A. whose daughter, unbeknownst to her, is the mystery girlfriend. Asks Mrs. Greene, “Who are you people?” To which Rannells replies, “We’re liberals from Broadway!” Jo Ann Pellman is wonderful as the teenager who just wants to bring her girlfriend to the prom. Casey Nicholaw, who directed and choreographed the Broadway production, has here done just the dances – and they are fabulous, much better than what I saw on Broadway.

The Prom is wildly funny, but it also packs a powerful emotional punch. If you subscribe to Netflix, don’t miss it.

Also a don’t-miss: George C. Wolfe’s brilliant film of August Wilson’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, which features stellar performances by Viola Davis as Ma Rainey and the late Chadwick Bozeman as the horn player in her backup group. Both are certain Oscar contenders.

By the way. I recently signed up for Broadway HD, where I can stream Real Theatre. Their offerings are phenomenal – plays, musicals, classics up the yin-yang. I started out with A Moon for the Misbegotten, which I saw during my visit to NYC as a tourist at Christmas-New Year’s 1973-4. This acclaimed production, directed by José Quintero, starring Jason Robards, Colleen Dewhurst and Ed Flanders, restored O’Neill’s great play to our national dramatic repertory. I managed to score a pair of tickets on the day of performance, which turned out to be Opening Night. This was the Olden Days, so the curtain was at 6:30. All the critics were there, but the only ones I recognized were the TV people, such as Pia Lindstrom and Ed Sullivan. Sullivan had two seats, one for himself and one for his coat. He had orange hair. I have since seen the play 4 times – but my first time is still the best, and one of the best “revivals” I have seen in a lifetime at the theatre.

Then, I moved on to An American in Paris, which I loved when I saw it on Broadway, starring Leanne Cope, a British ballet star, and Robert Fairchild, at the time a Principal Dancer with the New York City Ballet. I expected their dancing to be great; but it turned out they both are fine actors and terrific singers. The entire production is sublime.

 

“It requires a certain largeness of spirit to give generous appreciation to large achievements. A society with a crabbed spirit and a cynical urge to discount and devalue will find that one day, when it needs to draw upon the reservoirs of excellence, the reservoirs have run dry.”

 

                                                                                      — George F. Will

 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who actually does strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

 

                                                                                    — Theodore Roosevelt

 

Share