The Playfixer

Here’s your chance to get up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week, Larry tells you about CIRCLE MIRROR TRANFORMATION, AFTER MISS JULIE, LOVE CHILD, EMBRACEABLE ME and INVENTING AVI.

So far, this seems to be a pretty good year for women playwrights. Primary Stages’ entire season is comprised of plays by women, Lincoln Center Theatre is staging Sarah Ruhl’s In the Next Room in a Broadway house, and right now you can see four new productions of plays by women: Theresa Rebeck’s The Understudy (presented by Roundabout at the Laura Pels Theatre), Heidi Schreck’s Creature (New Georges at Ohio), Liz Duffy Adams’ Or (Women’s Project at the Julia Miles Theatre) and Annie Baker’s Circle Mirror Transformation (Playwrights Horizons). So far, the only one I’ve seen is the latter; but I am very glad to see that the ladies are finally getting their due.

Circle Mirror Transformation takes place at an adult education class in “creative drama” in a small town in Vermont. This is more like group therapy than drama, as four adults show their willingness to do just about anything their “teacher” asks them to do, much of which looks rather ridiculous to us. So, on one level, the plays works as a satire of the “touchy-feely” type of actor training; but the playwright has more than just satire on her mind. What emerges from all this is a compelling plot, most of which occurs off-stage. A lonely middle-aged man whose wife left him falls for a younger woman, a refugee actress from New York who has fled all the rejection and craziness there, as well as an abusive boyfriend. There’s the husband of the teacher, an ex-60’s radical, And, there’s a morose teenager who took the class because she thought it would help her land the role of Maria in her school’s production of West Side Story.

Mostly, the students act out incidents from their lives, and from the lives of the others in the class. As a dramaturgical exercise, Circle Mirror Transformation is fascinating. It’s like Ms. Baker has come up with a whole new way to make a play. As actual onstage drama, though, it can be a little slow; though the cast is so fine that they ultimately make this an enjoyable evening.

After Miss Julie at the American Airlines Theatre is an adaptation by British playwright Patrick Marber of Strindberg’s Miss Julie, set in post World War II Britain. I am not a fan of the original – indeed, of Strindberg in general – but I have to say that Marber’s version is more to my taste. Julie is the spoiled daughter of a country lord. Jean – here called John—is his chauffeur. Christine, the third character (called Bertha, I think, in the Strindberg original), is the cook of the manor, in love with John and hoping they will marry. As in Strindberg, Julie is a sexually voracious pest who seduces John just because she can and then ruins him.

I admired Mark Brokaw’s production very much – particularly the cat and mouse game in the first half of the play, crackling with sexual tension. Opinion seems to be mixed on Sienna Miller’s Julie. I came to it with an open mind, because I know virtually nothing about her, either as an actress or as tabloid copy. For me, she was a fresh new face, and I thought her performance of this unpleasant character absolutely terrific. Also great were Jonny Lee Miller (another movie actor I never heard of) as John and Marin Ireland (one of my faves) as Christine.

To my mind, this is better than Strindberg, and well-worth seeing.

I also enjoyed Daniel Jenkins and Robert Stanton in their Love Child, at New World Stages, a transfer from Primary Stages where it played last season. In this wild farce these two gifted comedians portray multiple roles, the central one of which is an actor hoping to get a role in an upcoming TV series called “Chelsea Boys.” He’s involved with a small theatre group which is presenting an adaptation of an obscure play by Euripides in a former sausage factory in Red Hook. Jenkins and Stanton are the entire cast of this must-miss production as well as the actor’s mother (who is also his agent) and her friend, who sit in the audience and constantly distract the actors.

Love Child is a hilarious celebration of the actor’s craft. That’s its main focus. If you’re a civilian, as was my companion, you might find it more than a little too much of an inside-joke. As for me, I loved it.

Embraceable Me, at the Kirk Theatre in Theatre Row, is a sweet, sentimental comedy by Victor L. Cahn about a man and a woman who are Perfect For Each Other, in a “When Harry Met Sally” kinda way, but who don’t embrace the inevitability of this until at least ten years after they first meet as two college students. Most of the play consists of direct address to the audience, back and forth between the two. Usually, I find this playwriting technique annoying, but Cahn’s writing is so witty and the two actors (Scott Barrow and Keira Naughton) are so charming that I was quickly hooked and wound up being enchanted; but then, I am an Old Softy who loves a love story told without a drop of cynicism.

Finally, I caught one of the last performances of Inventing Avi by Robert Cary and Benjamin Feldman, at Abingdon Theatre. I am a fan of Abingdon, having published four plays they premiered in my annual New Playwrights series. They do fine productions, mostly of plays by playwrights who are hardly household names (at least, in theatre-people households). Cary and Feldman have a few writing credits, but nothing I have ever seen. So, this was in this sense a typical Abingdon production.

The play was about an aspiring playwright who supports himself by working for a vacuous, wealthy woman with little taste who produces bomb after bomb with her husband’s money. Call her sort of a Maxine Bialystock. Our Hero has written a play which just could be a great new play which will give Tony Kushner a run for the money; but he can’t get his boss to read it. Then her circumstances change when her husband calls to tell her they have lost all their dough in some sort of Ponzi scheme, which mystifies Maxine (sorry, the character’s name is Judy). Meanwhile, Our Hero has met a young actress named Amy, one of whose many jobs is as a personal assistant to Judy’s sister, a soap opera actress named Mimi who sits on the board of a non-profit organization which supports Jewish-themed plays. Amy sees an opportunity for herself, and hatches the idea to persuade Mimi to star in the play. Since Judy won’t consider a play written by her assistant and because the non-profit will only give money if a play is by a Jewish writer, Amy brings a front into the project, her scene partner, who poses as an Israeli playwright and actor named Avi. The problem is, Judy and Mimi hate each other; but Judy is forced to work with her sister because it’s the only way she can get the play on. She has bought Amy’s ruse completely, and is not only producing “Avi’s” play but hires him as both lead actor and director. Eventually, the play becomes a huge hit – but nobody knows that Our Hero is the playwright.

In the Real World, there are no Judys, just as there haven’t been any Max Bialystocks for 40 years. There are no solo producers who raise money and present a play on Broadway, as they used to do in Olden Times. The people who call themselves “producers” are mostly people who finance pre-sold (via good reviews) commercial transfers. One of the most prominent of these people is Daryl Roth, who brags in her bio that she has produced six Pulitzer Prize-winning plays. No, she hasn’t. Manhattan Theatre Club produced Doubt and Proof, and MCC produced Wit. Ms. Roth financed their commercial transfers. In the Real World, there certainly are no producers who would hire an unknown to both star in and direct a Broadway production. And, in the Real World, a non-profit organization cannot contribute money to a commercial enterprise. In other words, the playwrights have no idea how the Real World of the theatre works.

Abingdon does – or they should. Turns out, this play came with “enhancement money,” mostly cobbled together by Mr. Feldman, who is an entertainment lawyer with a lot of rich friends. Abingdon denies it, but I think this is why they did this feeble comedy. Times are tough, fund-raising is tough, and Abingdon, like several other small off Broadway companies, is forced to get into bed with People With Money, most of whom want to “enhance” plays which are far less interesting than the ones sitting around unread because they are by playwrights With No Money. Let us hope this is a temporary situation for Abingdon.

CIRCLE MIRROR TRANSFORMATION. Playwrights Horizons, 410 W.
42nd. St.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com. 212-2798-4200.
AFTER MISS JULIE. American Airlines Theatre, 227 W. 42nd St.
TICKETS: www.roundabouttheatre.org. 212-719-1300.
LOVE CHILD. New World Stages, 340 W. 50th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
EMBRACEABLE ME. Kirk Theatre, 416 W. 42nd St.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com. 212-2798-4200.
INVENTING AVI. Abingdon Theatre Co. Closed.

Here’s your chance to get up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week, Larry tells you about BROKE-OLOGY, THE EMPEROR JONES, BYE BYE BIRDIE, SUCH THINGS HAPPEN ONLY IN BOOKS, SUPERIOR DONUTS and MEMPHIS.

As you can see by the above list, I have been quite busy, catching up with show after show. As usual, I have mostly good things to say about all of them. What can I say? I’m easy.

Nathan Louis Jackson’s Broke-ology, at the Mitzi Newhouse Theater, is a compelling drama about a black family in St. Louis. The mom, Sonia, passed away 12 years ago, and dear old Dad, William, has had to raise his two sons by himself. They are now young men. Malcolm went away to college in Connecticut, but he is now working for the Environmental Protection Agency office in St. Louis; Ennis stayed home, works in a restaurant, and is about to become a father. William suffers from multiple sclerosis, and his condition is deteriorating. Malcolm wants to go back to Connecticut, where he has a great opportunity to work with his mentor from college; but Ennis, who plans to marry the mother of his child, wants him to stay in St. Louis to help him care for their father.

Meanwhile William, in his less lucid moments, has hallucinations in which Sonia appears. Finally, Malcolm has to make a choice: take the job in Connecticut or give up his dream and stay home with Dad.

Beautifully-directed by Thomas Kail, Broke-ology features a first-rate cast. Wendell Pierce is quite moving as William and Francois Battiste and Alano Miller are superb as the two sons. Crystal A. Dickerson is lovely as the phantom mom. The play has been derided in some quarters for being too sentimental, as well as for being too “television.” To the former, I say that there is nothing wrong with sentimental if it is done well, as it is here, and when the sentiment is so desperately needed. Here’s a play about a black father who is willing to do anything to help his sons. Anything. To the latter criticism I say: there are live actors on a stage, playing for a live audience. So it’s NOT TELEVISION.

Eugene O’Neill’s The Emperor Jones is rarely revived, largely because much of it is written in darky-dialect and because it, unlike, Broke-ology, does not exactly present a positive image of a black man. You can in effect send it up, as the Wooster Group did when they presented the play with a white woman in black-face as Brutus Jones, or you can take the play on its own terms and go for broke, which is what Ciarán O’Reilly has done at Irish Rep. To do this, you have to have a Commanding Presence playing the title role, and O’Reilly has a doozy in John Douglas Thompson, an acclaimed classical actor who elevates, to tragic stature, the role of the escaped convict who makes his way to Africa to become a corrupt, rapacious dictator but who overstays his welcome too long and finds himself hunted through the jungle by his former subjects.

O’Reilly’s production is magnificently expressionistic, employing Taymor-like puppetry and brilliant sound and lighting design. Brian Nelson did the lighting, and Ryan Rumery and Christian Frederickson the sound. Both are just incredible. As is Thompson. Expect this performance to be multi-honored next spring at awards time.

If you believe the reviews, Robert Longbottom’s production of Bye Birdie Birdie, presented by Roundabout at Henry Miller’s Theatre, is a train wreck and the leading candidate for Bomb of the Year. So, is it the turkey they’re saying it is? No, say I.

It’s a charming show, done in a cartoon-y way which I quite enjoyed. John Stamos has been derided for Not Being Dick Van Dyke, which is unfair. He is delightful as the nerdy Albert, as is Gina Gershon as his lady love, Rosie, who has been derided for Not Being Chita Rivera. Ridiculous, and again unfair. She makes a luscious, winsome Rosie. Both are supposedly weak, vocally. Untrue. True, they’re not Patinkin and Lupone; but who needs powerhouse voices in a show like this? Bill Irwin has been cast as the dad, and derided for his over the top performance. In a cartoon like this, if you have a Bill Irwin, folks, you have to use him – and Irwin does not disappoint. His clowning at the end of Act I when the family appears on the Ed Sullivan Show is priceless. Also excellent are the two teens playing Kim and Hugo (Allie Trimm and Matt Doyle) as are Jane Houdyshell, as Albert’s battleaxe of a mother, and Nolan Girard Funk as Birdie, who stops the show more than once.

The audience at the performance I attended loved the show, even though most were probably Roundabout subscribers who were there because they already had tickets anyway. I didn’t see any ditchees after the intermission. If you’re up for a goofy evening, you might enjoy this show.

Thornton Wilder, best known for classics American plays such as Our Town and The Skin of Our Teeth, was also a gifted miniaturist who wrote many short plays during his career which have also become classics, such as The Happy Journey to Trenton and Camden and The Long Christmas Dinner, and even more which were pretty much forgotten until they were recently unearthed by Wilder’s nephew and executor. Keen Company is currently presenting a bill of five of these “lost” plays under the collective title Such Things Only Happen in Books. While these short plays do not rise to the level of Wilder’s greatest work, still they are all theatrically inventive and most enjoyable. I particularly enjoyed the titular play, about a complacent novelist unaware of the real story happening under his very eyes, and “Cement Hands,” wherein an avuncular uncle warns his niece that the “perfect man” she is about to marry – he’s rich, he’s handsome — is a nit-picking cheapskate.

As usual, Keen’s production is terrific, under the able hands of co-directors Carl Forsman and Jonathan Silverstein. A most enjoyable evening.

Don’t go to Tracey Letts’ Superior Donuts, at the Music Box Theatre, expecting to see anything like his earlier plays. Killer Joe and Bug were dark and disturbing – even shocking – and his Pulitzer Prize-winning August: Osage County was a vicious family drama. Superior Donuts shows a kinder, gentler Letts. While it does not pack the punch of his other plays, it does offer substantial pleasures.

It’s about an elderly owner of a donut shop in a deteriorating Chicago neighborhood. Arthur, a draft-dodging radical in the long-lost 60’s, is now he’s in his 60’s and has pretty much given up on life. He gets by, he makes do – until he hires an eager-beaver young black man to help out in his shop. Franco is a go-getter, who talks his way into a job and then tries to persuade Arthur to spruce it up, offer poetry readings, etc. He also urges Arthur to go out with a flirty beat cop who has been dropping hints that she’s interested just about every day. The complication comes with the arrival of Franco’s bookie, to whom he owes an impossible sum of money. If he doesn’t pay up, the usual terrible things will happen to him.

My only problem with the play is that Letts constantly interrupts it with long narrative monologues in which Arthur tells the audience about his family, about the 60s, etc. These would work just fine in a novel; but in a play they seem intrusive and unnecessary. Michael McKean and John Michael Hill are terrific as Arthur and Franco, respectively, and the supporting cast is good, too.

Memphis, the new musical at the Shubert Theatre is, like Bye Bye Birdie, set in the 1950’s. A Memphis white kid is crazy about black music, and makes it his mission to bring it into the “mainstream” – i.e., white America. He succeeds, but the beat then goes on without him.

I had a great time at Memphis; but I have to admit that it sugarcoats the story of the fight for racial integration in the music business and in the “real world.” It skips over an important step in this process: Elvis. Book writer Joe DiPietro would have us believe that white kids would start hoppin’ and boppin’ to proto-soul music because of a cool radio DJ. It was, in fact, Elvis who took what was then known as “race music” and made it acceptable to white folks. He paved the way. It wasn’t until the early to mid-60s, when Barry Gordy came along with Motown, that “white” radio started playing black music. Dreamgirls deals with this subject in a much more serious, and truthful, way than does Memphis, which takes a more fairy-tale approach that says more about the Age of Obama than it does about the Age of Elvis.

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I must say that Christopher Ashley’s direction is just wonderful. Sergio Trujillo, whose choreography for last season’s unfairly-maligned Guys and Dolls was most under-appreciated, really shines here. And what a cast! There are at least two, maybe more, “a star is born” performances coming from Chad Kimball, as the proselytizing DJ Huey, and from Montego Glover as Felicia, an aspiring Tina Turner-esque singer who Huey promotes to stardom and with whom he falls in love.

Memphis is not to be missed – even though it doesn’t quite tell the whole story.

BROKE-OLOGY. Mitzi Newhouse Theatre, Lincoln Center.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
THE EMPEROR JONES. Irish Repertory Theatre, 132 W. 22nd St.
TICKETS: 212-727-2737.
BYE BYE BIRDIE. Henry Miller’s Theatre. 124 W. 43rd St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
SUCH THINGS ONLY HAPPEN IN BOOKS. Clurman Theatre, 416 W.
42nd St.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com. 212-279-4200.
SUPERIOR DONUTS. Music Box Theatre, 239 W. 45th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
MEMPHIS. Shubert Theatre, 225 W. 44th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.

“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

Lawrence Harbison brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week, Larry tells you about THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS, THE NIGHT WATCHER, LET ME DOWN EASY, GOOD BOBBY, and OLEANNA.

In these strained economic times it is not surprising that three Off Broadway theatre companies are currently presenting solo shows. As it happens, all three feature women in the starring (indeed, the only) role. At the Cherry Lane Theatre, you can see Judith Ivey as advice maven Ann Landers in David Rambo’s The Lady With All the Answers; at Manhattan Theatre Club, Charlayne Woodard is supercharging the stage in her new autobiographical show, The Night Watcher; while Anna Deavere Smith is back with a new interview-play, Let Me Down Easy, at Second Stage.

The Lady With All the Answers takes place in Landers’ home in 1975. She is trying to write “the hardest column I have ever had to write” and she has a serious case of procrastinitis. While she avoids writing her column she regales us with stories about her career and reads some of the favorite letters she’s received, many of which are quite amusing – as are her replies to them. Some are very touching, too, like the anguished “What’s wrong with me?” letter she received from a gay teen. Some newspapers refused to print her reply to him, which was that nothing was wrong with him, he can’t help being gay, and he should get counseling to help him embrace his true nature instead of trying to hide it.

Eventually, we learn why tonight’s column is so hard for Our Heroine to write. After thirty years of advising her readers to stay married no matter what, she is divorcing her husband because he has fallen in love with another women (of course, half his age). Ms. Ivey is quite touching here, as well as when she goes to Viet Nam to meet wounded soldiers and promises to call their parents when she returns to the states. Of course, she calls every one, offering them comfort and encouragement.

Judith Ivey is just wonderful as Ann Landers.

And Charlayne Woodard is just wonderful as well as, well, Charlayne Woodard. Her stories in The Night Watcher, presented by Primary Stages at 59 E. 59 Theatre A, focus mostly on the decision she apparently made early on not to have children, as well as not to adopt; but instead, she became a mother figure to many children, as auntie or as godmother. What emerges, is a powerful reminder to us all of our awesome responsibility as parents, mentors, friends, towards all children.

Anna Deavere Smith has achieved extraordinary success by interviewing people and then presenting them on stage with a unifying theme. In Let Me Down Easy, that theme is death, about how to cross that final frontier with strength and dignity before going gently into that good night. While there is some raging, mostly against our health care system, the best parts of this show are quiet and contemplative. As usual, Ms. Smith plays all the roles, including Lance Armstrong.

This show might seem like something of a bummer, but it’s not. I found it quite uplifting, actually.

Good Bobby, at 59 E. 59, comes to us from a successful run in Los Angeles. It’s about a shy, insecure rich kid who grew up in the shadow of his much more accomplished and confident brothers to become, with grit and determination, Bobby Kennedy.

When we first meet Kennedy, he’s counsel to the Senate committee investigating organized labor’s involvement with organized crime. He goes on to help his brother because President and eventually, becomes a candidate for president himself. We know what happened then. Brian Lee Franklin, who wrote the play, also plays Bobby Kennedy. He is terrific in the role, but the play is also pretty good, though I thought the direction was, overall, a little lethargic, making the play run longer than it should have.

But, really, this play is well worth seeing.

The Curmudgeon Laureate of our theatre, David Mamet, is back with a revival of his cryptically-titled Oleanna, a short two-hander which ran off Broadway originally and is now having its Broadway debut at the Golden Theatre, starring Bill Pullman and Julia Stiles. For those of you who don’t know the play, it’s about a college professor who finds himself accused of sexual harassment by a student in one of his classes. What pisses many people off (frankly, most of them women) is that Mamet loads the deck in favor of the beleaguered male, making his student a conniving harpy. Most of Mamet’s plays are about the struggle for power, and this one’s no different. Mamet appears to be saying that men are guilty until proven innocent of being sexual aggressors and insensitive louts – but they can’t be proven innocent because it’s her word against his – and her word is the one that constitutes The Truth.

My companion (a woman) disliked the play but put it down to the acting. She felt both actors were miscast. I did not. I thought they perfectly incarnated the two that Mamet drew. My only quibble was director Doug Hughes’ decision to frame each scene with the slow raising and lowering of window blinds, accompanied by the sound of a motor which sounded strong enough to hoist the entire theatre. Huh, and double huh?

I would say, if it sounds like the subject matter of this play would piss you off, and you just can’t bring an open mind into the Golden Theatre, don’t go.

THE LADY WITH ALL THE ANSWERS. Cherry Lane Theatre, 38 Commerce St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
THE NIGHT WATCHER. Primary Stages, 59 E. 59 St.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com. 212-279-4200.
LET ME DOWN EASY. Second Stage, 307 W. 43rd St.
TICKETS: 212-246-4422.
GOOD BOBBY. 59 E. 59 Theatres.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com. 212-279-4200.
OLEANNA. Golden Theatre, 252 W. 45th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.

“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

Larry the Playfixer brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week, Larry tells you about A STEADY RAIN, HAMLET, THE ROYAL FAMILY, VIGIL, KILLERS AND OTHER FAMILY, THE BREATH OF LIFE and ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT.

It’s that time of the year: the traditional, old-time start of the theatre season. As soon as the Jewish holidays end, shows open just about every night. It’s a reminder of what the NY Theatre once was. In 1927, for instance, there were over 350 openings, all on Broadway – sometimes, two a night. It’s like that now, except not on Broadway, but in small theatres. Since my last column, I’ve seen about 10 new shows (what a hard life I lead). Here is my report on most of them.

MORE

A Steady Rain by Keith Huff comes to us via Chicago, where it wowed critics. That’s not why it’s on Broadway, though. It’s here because a miracle occurred. One of the producers of the James Bond franchise saw it in Chicago, and got the script and gave it to Daniel Craig, who decided he wanted to do it on Broadway. The other role was offered to Hugh Jackman, who accepted it. In about five seconds, the Broadway production was financed. In about five minutes after it was announced, the limited run was sold out. Have you noticed how every Broadway play is announced these days as having a “limited run?” What a brilliant ploy!

Anyway, as could have been predicted, the two stars got the raves from the critics, but most of them were rather condescending to the play. Since it’s about two cops, many dissed it for being the worst thing a critic can call a play: “television.” I am pleased to inform you that A Steady Rain is definitely not television. There are live actors, on a stage, in front of a live audience. So, it’s NOT TELEVISION.

Much of the play is a series of interlocking monologues by these two cops, best friends for years and squad car partners, but Huff manages to weave in a lot of conflict between these two men so you never feel as if it’s story hour at the Schoenfeld Theatre. The play builds towards it’s tragic climax with subtlety and power. And the two actors are wonderful in their roles. Both have almost pitch-perfect Chicago accents, and both almost make you believe they are these two guys, instead of two slumming movie stars.

You may find it hard to get a ticket; but maybe this “limited run” will extend.

Around the block, at the Broadhurst Theatre, another movie star is holding court – like Daniel Craig, another Brit. Jude Law is giving one of the greatest Shakespearean performances I have ever seen, as the title role in Hamlet.

Far from being the traditional Melancholy Dane, Law’s Hamlet is passionate and furious. He was a little ragged, vocally, at the performance I attended, but his portrayal still knocked me for a loop, as did Michael Grandage’s direction, which found new ways of staging scenes and new bits of business I had never seen which often made me think, “I can’t believe nobody thought of this before.”

Law’s supporting cast has been denigrated as being second rate. This often happens when fine actors have to appear with a major film star. These actors are not second rate. This is a fine company. And this is not only the best Hamlet, and the best Hamlet, I have ever seen, but one of the finest Shakespearean productions I have ever had the pleasure to see.

When Manhattan Theatre Club began “The Biltmore Experiment,” I had high hopes that this would lead to the production of more new plays on Broadway, albeit non-commercially. Sadly, MTC has abandoned this goal and is now mounting mostly revivals at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre, which is now what they are calling the Biltmore. Many of the critics are unhappy about this, most notably those of Time Out/NY, which has panned (most unfairly in my opinion) most of the new plays MTC has produced in its Broadway venue, and now can’t understand why they are not doing new plays there. Lord, have mercy.

Anyway, the current revival at the Friedman is a fine production of Kaufman and Ferber’s THE ROYAL FAMILY, an amusing trifle loosely about the Barrymore family. Today’s audience thinks the first lady of the Barrymores is Drew, so the enjoyment has to come from the play itself, rather than from how accurately it portrays its subject. The play itself is a perfectly enjoyable boulevard play, a light satire of actors and the theatrical profession. I think it helps if you’re at least something of an insider, but there is still much to enjoy if you’re a civilian. Doug Hughes’ production is, as usual, excellent, and several of the performances are of the “don’t-miss” variety; most notably, Rosemary Harris’s Fanny Cavendish and Jan Maxwell’s Julie. I also enjoyed John Glover as Herbert and Reg Rogers as Tony, the role based on John Barrymore.

Go – you’ll have a good time, even as you mourn the abandonment of the Biltmore Experiment.

Vigil, at the DR2 Theatre, by Canadian playwright Morris Panych, sounded most promising. A comedy with Malcolm Gets and Helen Stenborg, it takes place in the apartment of an elderly woman. Her nephew thinks she’s dying, and he has abandoned his life to sit with her in her last days. This proves merely an excuse for him to rant on and on and on about his unhappy life. His aunt doesn’t even say anything until the end of the first act, a contrivance that could have been sustained for ten minutes, maybe, but not for an entire play. Unfortunately, the nephew is a most unpleasant blatherer. Gets does his best, but after about 20 minutes of listening to this guy you’ll want to either kill yourself or leave the theatre.

Rattlestick Playwrights Theatre produced Lucy Thurber’s Killers and Other Family several seasons ago, and has mounted a new production of the play, the author apparently having revised the script. The central character, Lizzie, is struggling both to finish her dissertation and to escape her past, when who should arrive but her past, in the form of her brother and her former boyfriend, Danny, who claim to be headed to Mexico and need some money. Danny, it seems, may have murdered a woman back home. Also in the play is Claire, Lizzie’s roommate and lover. What ensues is a gripping, often violent, tug of war, with Lizzie as the rope.

The direction by Caitriona McLaughlin is taut as a high-wire, and the performances by her 4-member cast are superb – particularly those of Samantha Soule as Lizzie and Shane McRae as Danny.

This one’s a don’t-miss.

I travelled up to the Westport Country Playhouse to see David Hare’s The Breath of Life largely because Hare is one of the British Theatre’s finest playwrights but also because of the chance to see two of our theatre’s finest actresses, Jane Alexander and Stockard Channing. I wasn’t disappointed by either.

The play takes place in a house on the Isle of Wight inhabited by Madeleine, a woman in her 60s. There is a knock at her door, she opens it, and who should be standing there but the Other Woman, Frances. There is much tension between these two, which we learn gradually is due to the fact that they both loved the same man, Frances’ now ex-husband, who carried on an affair with Madeleine for years before Frances found out about it. It’s a peel-back-the-layers-of-the-onion sort of play, packed with fascinating observations about the choices one makes and how one lives one’s life, particularly if one is a woman, and is jam-packed with wonderful monologues and pithy dialogue, if a tad dramatically thin.

Of course, Alexander and Channing are both wonderful. On the night I attended, the house was jam-packed with Broadway types, no doubt looking at the play as a possible transfer. I would be surprised if this happened, unless it were with Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig as Madeleine and Frances, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this turns up soon at Manhattan Theatre Club. If it does, it’s a definite must-see.

Finally, I caught Shirley Lauro’s All Through the Night, in the Marjorie S. Deane Little Theatre in the Westside Y, produced by Red Fern Theatre, a company new to me. The play appears to be based on the actual stories of German gentile women who lived through the second World War, though no source is credited in the program. This is a compelling story, though one that seemed to discomfit some audience members. Yes, anti-semiticism is expressed by some of these women, and their stories focus on the persecution and extermination of Gypsies and crippled children by the Nazi swine. Some people think this diminishes the horror of the Jewish holocaust. I am not one of them.

My problem with the play was that the actors, with one exception, simply are not up to the demands of this kind of play, though they could have been helped considerably by a more adept director. I also question the playwright’s choice to have two actresses speak mitt heavy Cherman excents, mitt a lot of “jawohl, Mein Commandants” und “Gott in Himmels”. Fortunately, though, one of these Chermans is the best actress on the stage, Andrea Sooch, whose portrayals of various Nazi True Believers are chilling.

A STEADY RAIN. Schoenfeld Theatre. 236 W. 45th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
HAMLET. Broadhurst Theatre. 235 W. 44th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
THE ROYAL FAMILY. Friedman Theatre. 261 W. 47th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com 212-239-6200.
VIGIL. DR2 Theatre. 203 E. 15th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
KILLERS AND OTHER FAMILY. Rattlestick Playwrights Theatre. 224
Waverly Pl.
TICKETS: www.smarttix.com. 212-868-4444.
THE BREATH OF LIFE. Westport Country Playhouse, Westport, CT.
TICKETS: 203-227-4177.
ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT. Marjorie S. Deane Little Theatre. 5 W. 64th
St.
TICKETS: www.theatremania.com. 212-352-3101

“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

“On the Aisle with Larry”

Lawrence Harbison brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week, Larry tells you about THE PRIDE OF PARNELL STREET, IN THE DAYLIGHT, MAHIDA’S EXTRA KEY TO HEAVEN and GOING TO THE RIVER, SERIES B.

I am not usually a fan of plays comprised solely of narration but I have to say, Sebastian Barry’s The Pride of Parnell Street, a series of interlocking monologues in which the characters are a stoic, poor Irish woman and her estranged husband, grabbed me and wouldn’t let go.

Janet struggled to make ends meet while her husband Joe supported the family as a pety criminal. I use the past tense, here, because the playwright does. Both were almost desperately in love with each other; until, that is, Joe got drunk during the celebration at a local pub of the championship of the local football team and beat Janet up. When we meet him, he is in a bad way, dying in hospital. He still loves her, and she him, but their life together is over, both because of his beating of her and because of his impending death. Talk about a tragic love story! It breaks your heart.

Mary Murray and Aidan Kelly transcend mere “moving” in their performances. The Pride of Parnell Street runs until 4 October and is not to be missed.

Tony Glazer’s In the Daylight, at the McGinn/Cazale Theatre, is a dysfunctional family whodunit/thriller. Dear old Dad has died under mysterious circumstances (was he murdered?) and his prodigal son, a famous novelist, has been asked to come home to help his mother and sister decide what to do about the ashes. It’s a dark and stormy night (but of course), and the first act consists largely of the three members of the family screaming at each other, while the ghost of dad wanders around aimlessly, unseen by his family. The acrimony is interrupted by the arrival of a ditzy fan of the novelist, who sat next to him on his plane flight and who is returning his cell phone, which he left behind. Of course, she is not what she seems, nor is anybody.

This play might have worked if director John Gould Rubin had gone for more subtlety, less stridency, with his actors. As it is, the play gets more and more far-fetched, finally devolving into the ridiculous.

You could skip this one.

You could also stand to skip Russell Davis’ Mahida’s Extra Key to Heaven, an Epic Theatre Ensemble production at Signature’s Peter Norton Space, wherein the playwright has created (or, rather, tried to create) an allegory about our nation’s misadventure in Iraq. It’s about a confused young man living at home with his rather dotty, difficult mother, who meets a mysterious young woman waiting late at night by the ocean for a ferry to take her back to the mainland. Turns out, she is a student from Iraq, and her brother has recently arrived to force her to return to her country. Hints are dropped that he may be a terrorist. He is certainly an Islamic fundamentalist, anyway. The young man fears for her safety and offers her a place to stay for the night with him and his mom. Of course, who should show up the next day but the brother, demanding his sister.

Unlike In the Daylight, which had more twists and turns than a politician running for re-election, Davis’ play holds no surprises. Mostly, it’s just talk talk talk, redeemed by the excellent acting all around – particularly, that of Roxanna Hope as the damsel in distress and Michele Pawk as the cranky mother.

Finally, I caught Series B of The River Crosses Rivers, a bill of ten-minute plays by non-white female playwrights at Ensemble Studio Theatre. The first half of this bill disappointed me, but things perked up after the interval with the arrival of PJ Gibson’s Jesse. This is, like The Pride or Parnell Street, a series of interlocking monologues in which the characters are a husband and wife. Gareth and Tauna, successful professionals, are deeply in love, and gush endlessly about it. Fortunately, Gibson has enough wit to make these lovers standable – and then, in the end, veers towards a point of no return. Christopher Burris and Maya Lynne Robinson are charming in this play.

My other fave was Cori Thomas’ moving His Daddy, about two men struggling to deal with the brutal murder of the son they adopted. Lindsay Smiling and Matthew Montelongo are heartbreaking in this gem.

THE PRIDE OF PARNELL STREET. 59 E. 59.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com. 212-279-4200.
IN THE DAYLIGHT. McGinn/Cazale Theatre. 2162 Broadway.
TICKETS: 212-579-0258.
MAHIDA’S EXTRA KEY TO HEAVEN. Peter Norton Space. 555 W. 42nd
St. TICKETS: 866-811-4111.
THE RIVER CROSSES RIVERS, SERIES B. Ensemble Studio Theatre, 549
W. 52nd St.
TICKETS: 866-811-4111.

“Who is this guy?”

For over thirty years Lawrence Harbison was in charge of new play acquisition for Samuel French, Inc., during which time his work on behalf of playwrights resulted in the first publication of such subsequent luminaries as Jane Martin, Don Nigro, Tina Howe, Theresa Rebeck, José Rivera, William Mastrosimone, Charles Fuller, and Ken Ludwig, among many others; and the acquisition of musicals such as Smoke of the Mountain, A…My Name Is Alice, Little Shop of Horrors and Three Guys Naked from the Waist Down. He is a now a free-lance editor, primarily for Smith and Kraus, Inc., for whom he edits annual anthologies of best plays by new playwrights and women playwrights, best ten-minute plays and best monologues and scenes for men and for women. For many years he wrote a weekly column on his adventures in the theater for two Manhattan Newspapers, the Chelsea Clinton News and The Westsider. His new column, “On the Aisle with Larry,” is a weekly feature at www.smithandkraus.com.

He works with individual playwrights to help them develop their plays (see his website, www.playfixer.com). He has also served as literary manager or literary consultant for several theatres, such as Urban Stages and American Jewish Theatre. He is a member of both the Outer Critics Circle and the Drama Desk. He has served many times over the years as a judge and commentator for various national play contests and lectures regularly at colleges and universities. He holds a B.A. from Kenyon College and an M.A. from the University of Michigan.

He is currently working on a book, Masters of the Contemporary American Drama.

“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

Lawrence Harbison brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week, Larry tells you about AFTERMATH, IS LIFE WORTH LIVING?, THE RIVER CROSSES RIVERS SERIES A and THE RETRIBUTIONISTS.

We live sheltered, and pretty much complacent, lives in this country. The last war fought here ended in 1865. None of us have ever had to face the consequences of war in our own backyards, as most of the rest of the world has done. Consequently, it is difficult for us to feel empathy for people in other parts of the world whose lives have been destroyed by war. It is this lack of empathy which Jessica Blank and Erik Jensen have addressed in their new docudrama, Aftermath, currently at New York Theatre Workshop.

Blank and Jensen spent several weeks in Jordan, interviewing refugees from Iraq, and have organized their interviews into a play, following the same modus operandi used for their The Exonerated, which featured the voices of people who spent many years on death row before they were found to be innocent, and which had a great impact upon the country’s thinking regarding the issue of capital punishment. It inspired empathy for these unjustly convicted people, as well as outrage against the criminal justice “system” which wrecked their lives. I think Aftermath will have a similar effect. It will also, and it should, inspire outrage that we, the land of the free and the home of the brave, were the cause of these people’s suffering.

Aside from the fact that Aftermath tells you something you needed to hear, it is also a taut, gripping, evening, extraordinarily well-acted all around. It’s a don’t-miss.

As is Is Life Worth Living? at the Mint Theatre Co. This is a very amusing comedy by the more or less forgotten Irish playwright Lennox Robinson about what happens to the denizens of an Irish backwater when a touring theatrical troupe arrives for the summer, bringing with them a repertory of high-brow plays by the likes of Ibsen and Tolstoy instead of the usual lightweight summer fare they are used to. Suddenly spouses are going after each other with knives and people are attempting suicide – apparently because the plays they have been seeing have driven them to this. I know the feeling.

The Mint specializes in plays like this which have been unjustly consigned to the dustbin of cultural history. This one’s a doozy. It has been exceedingly well directed by Mint Artistic Director Jonathan Bank. The cast is wall-to-wall outstanding. My faves were Paul O’Brien, the proprietor of the local hotel and theatre, and Kevin Kilner and Jordan Baker as the leading man and lady of the troupe. Jeremy Lawrence scores in the small role of a wimpy local politician.

Again: don’t miss this one. It’s great fun.

The company Going to the River specializes in plays by woman of color, and they currently have two bills of short plays, entitled The River Crosses Rivers, running at Ensemble Studio Theatre. I saw Series A last week and am going to Series B the next.

Series A consists of plays by 7 women, including Ruby Dee, Lynn Nottage, Kara Le Corthron and Bridgette Wimberly. All 7 plays are terrific. Nottage’s is a monologue, called Banana Beer Bath, which could have been an out-take from Ruined, wherein an African woman tells us how she and her sister were hidden in a tub of beer covered with banana leaves to save them from certain rape and murder at the hands of a band of marauding militia, who proceeded to kill their parents. It’s a harrowing tale, harrowingly performed by Elain Graham. I was also impressed by Kara Lee Corthron’s Ladybug Gonna Getcha, about a talentless but fiercely determined punk rock singer, and Bridgette Wimberley’s Rally, about a young woman who takes her grandmother to an Obama campaign rally. The granny was there at the start of the struggle; her granddaughter is there for the end. It’s a poignant, yet often quite amusing play, superbly acted by Venida Evans as the granny and Erin Weems as her granddaughter.

I usually try and find nice things to say about just about everything (one of the reasons I am such a terrible critic); but, sadly, there’s not much I can say in favor of Daniel Goldfarb’s The Retributionists, currently at Playwrights Horizons. It’s based on the true story of a plot by Jews to poison German war criminals in Nuremberg. That’s an interesting story, but not as handled here. For some reason, Goldfarb also throws in a mawkish love story amongst the former partisans who’ve hatched the plot – including much unrequited love and betrayal. Who cares if one of the women has the hots for one of the other women? It seemed to me that this trivialized what could have been compelling tale.

As for the actors, they range from OK to Not Up To The Task. One, Adam Rothenberg, playing Jascha, is a handsome blond hunk with a hairstyle that makes him look right out of the latest issue of GQ. Get a haircut, Jascha!

This is one of those evenings where you can almost hear what the audience is thinking. Which is: What did Playwrights Horizons see in this play?

AFTERMATH. NY Theatre Worskhop, 79 E. 4th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.

IS LIFE WORTH LIVING? Mint Theatre Co., 311 W. 43rd St.
TICKETS: 212-315-0231.

THE RIVER CROSSES RIVERS. Ensemble Studio Theatre, 549 W.
52nd St.
TICKETS: www.theatremania.com. 866-811-4111.

THE RETRIBUTIONISTS. Playwrights Horizons, 416 W. 42nd.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com. 212-279-4200.

“Who IS this guy?”

For over thirty years Lawrence Harbison was in charge of new play acquisition for Samuel French, Inc., during which time he was responsible for the first publication of plays by such luminaries as Jane Martin, Don Nigro, Tina Howe, Theresa Rebeck, José Rivera, William Mastrosimone, Charles Fuller, and Ken Ludwig, among many others; and the acquisition of many musicals such as Smoke on the Mountain, A…My Name Is Alice, Little Shop of Horrors and Three Guys Naked From the Waist Down. He has a B. A. from Kenyon College and an M.A. in theatre from the University of Michigan. He is currently Senior Editor for Smith & Kraus, Inc., the nation’s largest theatrical trade publisher, for whom he edits annual anthologies of best plays by new playwrights, best ten-minute plays, best monologues for men and for women and best stage scenes. For many years he wrote a weekly column on his adventures in the theater for two Manhattan newspapers, the Chelsea Clinton News and The Westsider. He has also served as literary manager or literary consultant for several theatres, such as Urban Stages and American Jewish Theatre. He is a member of the NYC press corps and is an Outer Critics Circle member. He has served many times over the years as a judge and commentator for various national play contests and lectures regularly at colleges and universities. He loves to hear from readers – particularly if they disagree with him. E-mail him at LHarbison1@nyc.rr.com

“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

Lawrence Harbison brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week, Larry tells you about A LIFETIME BURNING, THE COLUMBINE PROJECT and AFTER LUKE/WHEN I WAS GOD.

Primary Stages, having announced that this season they will present only plays by women, has opened up with Cusi Cram’s A Lifetime Burning, a fascinating drama about a woman who has achieved fast fame with a memoir about her underprivileged childhood, growing up as part Inca. Trouble is, it’s all a fabrication. The author’s sister arrives at her deluded sister’s apartment to confront her about the lies in the book, about which sis is in extreme denial. During this confrontation, we are taken back in time and shown scenes between the hard-driving literary agent who put the publishing deal together, and between the author and a Latino man with whom she had a torrid affair.

I found it hard to believe, even though this play is based on a true story, that a top literary agent and top publisher could be so easily duped, probably because the author of the book is so clearly disturbed; but the core of the play, the battle between the two sisters, is forcibly handled and ultimately won me over.

The Columbine Project at Actors Temple Theatre, written and directed by Paul Anthony Storiale, is clearly inspired by The Laramie Project, which dealt with the death of Matthew Shepherd and its effect on the town of Laramie, Wyoming. Sturiale has created his play from published statements, news reports and newscasts of the tragic shooting spree at Columbine High School. While this is not quite as powerful, or as well done, as was The Laramie Project, it nevertheless succeeds in illuminating the context in which the Columbine shootings occurred, as well as the disturbed minds of the shooters. Storiale’s cast is excellent – particularly, Artie Ahr and Justin Mortelliti, who play the two youths who killed thirteen of their classmates and one teacher before killing themselves.

The production has a somewhat bare-bones feeling in its technical aspects – almost no set, a handful of lighting instruments –which makes the play seem more rudimentary than it is; but I was moved by the telling of this sad story, and recommend the play to one and all.

Irish Rep has a terrific double bill of one act plays by Cónal Creedon on view, After Luke/When I was God, performed by three amazing actors. After Luke is a Cain/Abel tale of two brothers. One is a hard-working auto mechanic, the other a ne’er-do-well who wants their Dadda to sell his land to developers. What ensues is a battle of wills between the two brothers. When I was God is about a demanding, athletics-obsessed father and a son eager to win his love via sports success.

Gary Gregg and Michael Mellamphy are in both plays, and they are superb, as is Colin Lane who plays the rather slow Dadda in the first play. This one is terrific. Don’t miss it.

A LIFETIME BURNING. Primary Stages, 59 E. 59th St.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com. 212-279-4200
THE COLUMBINE PROJECT. Actors Temple Theatre, 339 W. 47th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
AFTER LUKE/WHEN I WAS GOD. Irish Rep. 132. W. 22nd St.
TICKETS: 212-727-2737

“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

“On the Aisle with Larry”

Lawrence Harbison brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week, Larry tells you about BURN THE FLOOR, LYRIC IS WAITING, SLIPPING and SUMMER SHORTS SERIES B.

Critical opinion on BURN THE FLOOR, the new dance show at the Longacre Theatre, has been very divergent. Some have lauded the dancing, and the dancers; others have dissed it for having toured around the world for several years before coming to Broadway (in other words, without first having been vetted by New York critics), and for capitalizing on the popularity of dance shows on television such as “Dancing with the Stars,” two of whose pros are featured in Burn the Floor, anything linked to television being anathema on Broadway. As for me, what I saw on the stage of the Longacre was some of the most spectacular dancing I have ever seen on a Broadway stage.

The show, directed and choreographed by Jason Gilkison, is divided into four sections: “Inspirations,” “Things That Swing,” “The Latin Quarter,” and “Contemporary,” each incorporating a full range distinct of styles of dancing. Although there are ensemble numbers involving everybody, the dancers are paired off by country of origin for featured pas de deux. The two pros from “Dancing with the Stars” are Karina Smirnoff and Maksim Chmerkovskiy, both from the former Soviet Union, and they are incredible. All the dancers are, though. Just plain jaw-dropping.

Most of the dancing is to recorded music, but there are several numbers sung by Ricky Rojas and Rebecca Tapia, both of whom have wonderful voices.

If you love great dancing, this one’s a don’t-miss.

LYRIC IS WAITING, in Irish Rep’s basement theatre (a rental), is a short drama by Michael Puzzo about a nice enough guy who tells us about his marriage to a beautiful, passionate and dangerously crazy woman named Lyric. Much of the play is direct-address to the audience. The scenes themselves are jumbled up chronologically. We see the night the dude first met his lady love; we see him trying to save her; we see him with other babes who would have been much better for him (all played well by the charming Kelly McAndrew) and there are even scenes between Lyric and none other than Bigfoot, who looks like one of Geico’s cavemen.

This does sound rather ridiculous, I know; but Puzzo has a lot packed into his play about a man’s need to save crazy women. The performances are good. I particularly enjoyed the aforementioned Ms. McAndrew, and Lori Prince (Lyric) reminded me of several women I have known, some of whom I have dated and one or two of whom I have married. She is uncomfortably terrific.

SLIPPING, by Daniel Talbott, at Rattlestick Playwrights Theatre, is a gay teen angst drama about a kid named Eli who has recently moved to the midwest (squaresville) from hip San Francisco, as his dad has died and his mom, a college professor, has accepted a teaching position in Iowa. Needless to say, Eli doesn’t fit in at his new school; but in flashback scenes in San Francisco we see him not fitting in there, too. The play is bookended by scenes in a hospital room. In the last one, we realize why Eli’s there. This is one problem child.

But Eli is also very charismatic, in a Dean in “Rebel without a Cause” kinda way – particularly as played compellingly by Seth Numrich. In fact, all the actors are superb: Adam Driver as Chris, the angry, self-loathing, life-loathing boyfriend back in San Francisco; Meg Gibson as Eli’s mom and MacLeod Andrews as an Iowa boy who is more than willing to put up with loads of abuse from Eli because he has the hots for him and, in fact, just might actually love this unlovable kid. I liked Talbott’s writing, and Kirsten Kelly’s direction is terrific

Like Lyric is Waiting, Slipping is very short, very much the norm these days in plays by younger writers, who seem in general to distrust the two-act form. Why? My theory is they think it contrived; whereas a play “in one” is more real, less manipulative. Maybe, maybe not.

SUMMER SHORTS SERIES B, at 59 E. 59, is overall much better than Series A. The standout is a long-lost play by William Inge called “The Killing”, wherein a lonely man brings a guy he picked up in a bar back to his room late one night. What at first appears to be a gay pick-up play turns dark when we learn that this lonely man is terminally depressed. He doesn’t have the will to take his own life, so he asks the guy he’s brought home to do it, offering him his savings ($350) to do the deed. Will he or won’t he? If you happen to know that shortly after he wrote this play Inge committed suicide, this takes on heartbreaking poignancy, but even if not it’s a gem of a one act play, beautifully acted by Neal Huff and J.J. Kandel. As for the other plays, two are rather slight but very well-done: Carole Real’s “Don’t Say Another Word” is about a clueless guy out with his girlfriend who persists in sticking his foot deeper and deeper into his mouth (I found this amusing. A guy has to be so careful when he says anything to a woman!). Roger Hedden’s “If I Had” is about two guys who landscape rich people’s yards and the bored daughter of one of their clients, and is about a subject rarely touched on in American discourse – the fact that we are not as classless a society as we seem to think we are. Again, the actors here are mighty fine.

Keith Reddin’s “The Sin Eater” takes Sophocles’ Electra as its model, setting the myth in contemporary America. Mom has killed Dad, who’s just home from Iraq. Their daughter, who’s pissed, persuades her brother, whom she thought was dead, to kill Mom. The direction is haphazard and the acting ranges from the almost-competent to the completely amateurish. Lord, I wish the Dramatists Guild would declare an official moratorium on contemporary adaptations of ancient Greek drama!

BURN THE FLOOR. Longacre Theatre, 220 W. 48th St.
TICKETS: www.telecharge.com. 212-239-6200.
LYRIC IS WAITING. Irish Rep, 122 W. 22nd St.
TICKETS: 212-727-2737
SLIPPING. Rattlestick Playwrights Theatre, 224 Waverly Place.
TICKETS: www.smartix.com. 212-868-4444.
SUMMER SHORTS SERIES B. 59 E. 59th.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com. 212-279-4200.

“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

Lawrence Harbison, the Playfixer himself, brings you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week, Larry tells you about GIRLS NIGHT, VANITIES, SUMMER SHORTS SERIES A and WILDFLOWER.

Last week I saw not one but two off Broadway musicals about female friendship, “Girls Night” in the Downstairs Cabaret Theatre at Sofia’s and “Vanities” at Second Stage. Girls Night is what has come to be called a “jukebox musical;” Vanities has original music and has been adapted by Jack Heifner from his long-running off Broadway hit play from the 1970’s. Unlike most critics, I have nothing against “jukebox musicals,” but of the two I much preferred “Vanities.”

The premise of “Girls Night” is that a group of friends, all about 40, are having a bachelorette party at a bar for the daughter of the former queen bee of the group, who died when she was but a teenager. The dear departed, however, is there in spirit, as a ghost. She does a lot of narrating, both at the start and between numbers.

This could have been a clever, fun show if it were well-executed; but the book by Louise Roche, adapted by Betsy Kelso, is unbelievably crass and vulgar. The performances pretty much match the book. The songs are mostly disco hits of the 1970s, all about female empowerment (“I Will Survive,” “It’s Raining Men,” etc.). They are heavily amplified in this small space, and are pretty much ear-splitting. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be a sound board, so the book scenes are amplified, too. Lord have mercy.

I was one of about three men in the audience, which was a full house and which whooped and hollered and generally had a great time, which mystified me and my two female companions, both women of taste and refinement who were appalled by the show, as was I. If you are a woman with absolutely no taste whatsoever, who loves 70’s disco music, this one’s for you.

“Vanities” has pretty much gotten hammered in the press, which mystifies me as much as the audience reaction to “Girls Night.” I thought Heifner did a fine job of adapting his play about three friends who progress from teenaged innocence to jaded adulthood, and I loved the music by David Kirschenbaum. Judith Ivey has done a fine, fluid job of directing and the show features three terrific performances, by Lauren Kennedy, Sarah Stiles and Annaliese van der Pol.

Heifner has made one important change to his story, which I think was necessary to make the show work as a musical. The original play is in three scenes, the last ending in anger and recrimination. For his musical version he has tacked on a final scene in which the women meet years later at the funeral of the mother of one and patch things up, thus ending on a more upbeat note than in the play. I had no problem with this, but I think it has led some critics to accuse the show of being too sentimental, which is very much a no-no for critics, most of whom are jaded cynics. If you are a jaded cynic, by all means skip “Vanities”; but if you want a tuneful, upbeat, feel-good evening Vanities is your spoonful of sugar.

“Wildflower” by Lila Rose Kaplan, at Second Stage’s McGinn/Cazale Theatre, is a charming, sentimental comedy about a divorced mom and her quasi-disturbed teenaged son who are hanging out for the summer in a town in Colorado known for its annual Wildflower Festival. She gets a job at a local country store run by a quirky teenaged girl who is determined to lose her virginity by the fall, when she goes away to college, and who decides that the aforementioned teenaged boy is the best candidate to do the deed.

Kaplan’s writing is fresh and funny until the final, weird, melodramatic scene which seemed to me totally incongruous to the rest of the play, a real head-scratcher. But the direction by Giovanna Sardelli is excellent and the performances are all uniformly fine.

Finally, I caught Series A of this year’s Summer Shorts Festival at 59 E. 59th. By and large, I wasn’t much impressed by the play choices. There was an undramatic though somewhat engaging monologue written and performed by Nancy Giles called “Things My Afro Taught Me” about her many Bad Hair Days, a quirky comedy by John Augustine called “Death by Chocolate” which I felt went on too long and was too unfocused and a mini-musical by Skip Kennen and Bill Cunningham which was creepy in a silly sorta way. The best play of the evening is Neil LaBute’s “A Second of Pleasure,” about a couple going off for a weekend together who, it turns out, are married but not to each other. Victor Slezak and Margaret Colin are wonderful in their roles (they always are), and made this rather slight part of the LaBute oeuvre more fascinating than it really is.

Lets Hope Series B is better.

GIRLS NIGHT. Downstairs Cabaret at Sofia’s, 227 W. 46th St.
TICKETS: 212-947-9300.
VANITIES. Second Stage, 307 W. 43rd St.
TICKETS: 212-246-4422.
WILDFLOWER. McGinn/Cazale Theatre, 21262 Broadway.
TICKETS: 212-246-4422.
SUMMER SHORTS Series A. 59 E. 59th St.
TICKETS: www.ticketcentral.com 212-279-4200.

“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

This will bring you up to date with what’s hot and what’s not in New York. This week: THE TIN PAN ALLEY RAG and HAUNTED HOUSE.

I went to see the new off Broadway musical “The Tin Pan Alley Rag,” at Roundabout’s Laura Pels Theatre, the day after the dreadful, dismissive reviews came out in the major papers. Roundabout has a captive audience of subscribers most of whom, I am sure, were aware that the show they were about to see was a turkey. Talk about a tough house! Then, the show began, and we were provided with Yet Another reminder that just because it’s in the newspaper, that doesn’t mean it’s true.

The show imagines an encounter between a young, successful songwriter named Irving Berlin and an over-the-hill Scott Joplin. Towards the end of his life, Joplin tried without success to get his ragtime opera “Treemonisha” produced, making the rounds of music publishers in New York. What if he dropped by Irving Berlin’s publishing company in W. 28th St., known to the trade as “Tin Pan Alley?” This never happened, of course. Neither did a meeting between Queen Elizebeth I and Mary Queen of Scots but the critics had no problem with this in last season’s Broadway production of Schiller’s Mary Stuart. Apparently, they were willing to cut a Recognized Classic some slack; whereas they jumped all over Mark Saltzman, author of the book for The Tin Pan Alley Rag.

Saltzman uses this device to explore the lives of both Joplin and Berlin, cleverly incorporating their music as he does so. He juxtaposes young Berlin as a man who sees himself as a hit factory and the older Joplin as a man who has high aspirations. As each man reveals himself to the other, the book (and the set) opens up to show us scenes from both men’s pasts; Berlin’s, as an impoverished immigrant from Russia, forced to go to work at a very young age to support his family after his father died, becoming a singing waiter on the Bowery and, eventually, getting discovered; Joplin’s, as a cathouse piano player, also getting discovered. Both men had a lot in common, not the least of which was the loss of a wife to death shortly after both were married.

The cast, under Stafford Arima’s inventive and almost cinematic direction, is uniformly superb; particularly the two leads, Michael Therriault as Berlin and Michael Boatman as Joplin. “The Tin Pan Alley Rag” is fascinating history lesson, chock-full of wonderful music. I found it engrossing and often downright poignant, particularly at the end. As I went up the aisle afterwards I heard several people exclaim, “Can you believe this got bad reviews?!?” Well, believe it. But don’t always believe what you read in the newspapers. Just remember, critics don’t usually have your best interests primarily in mind when they write their opinions.

I rather enjoyed Daniel Roberts’ “Haunted House,” produced by Audax Theatre Group at the Irish Arts Center. Audax is a group new to me. Their history indicates that their raison d’etre appears to be to produce Roberts’ plays, directed by his partner in Audax, Brian Ziv. Fortunately, both are good enough that this one is worth your while.

It’s about a strange family living on the Jersey shore who a creepy horror attraction out of their house. Their “ride,” though, has seen better times when a young web reporter arrives to do a story on it, followed by her snarky boss (who is also her boyfriend). The pater familias is an odd man who dresses always as a ghoul. His son, who works for his as a sort of handyman, is mentally-challenged. His daughter, a chain restaurant waitress, wants to get the heck out of Jersey with her brother with whom, it turns out, she is having an affair. This does sound rather convoluted, but it all does wind up making fractured sense in the end. Given that this is a showcase, the performances are pretty good. My babe of the evening thought the play was hokey. We agreed to disagree.

THE TIN PAN ALLEY RAG. Laura Pels Theatre, 111 W. 46th St.
TICKETS: 212-719-1300.
HAUNTED HOUSE. Irish Arts Center, 553 W. 51st St.
TICKETS: www.smarttix.com. 212-868-4444