The Harrowing of Hell (American Theatre of Actors)

In the week before Easter Sunday, I’ve already taken a trip to Hadestown on Broadway.  I followed that plunge with another descent into the underworld.  The Harrowing of Hell is a play from the 13th century which has been adapted and modernized by director Dr. Jeff S. Dailey.  One of the first English language plays, its creation is unknown.  Found in three surviving medieval manuscripts, this work was likely a popular mystery play.  In the Middle Ages, Bible stories with accompanying music were an early form of theater performed in traveling pageants and churches.  (I’ll rebrand my blog Theater Reviews From My Pew to accommodate this particular entry.)

For this production, four distinct works are performed, the last of which is The Harrowing of Hell.  Period music separates each section which creates a contemplative feeling.  Given my love of all things medieval AND this week’s final season premiere of Game of Thrones, I decided to try a theater company I have never seen before.

The Fall of the Angels is the first play presented.  Dating from the 14th century, this story is part of the York Corpus Christi cycle of 48 mystery plays covering sacred history.  The text used here is a modernization of the original from the 20th century.  This selection conveys the creation of the world and the fall of Lucifer.  From high up on the stage, God condemns him with a cleverly simple effect of tossing a red sheet down upon his body.

Written by an African American in 1907, a poem entitled The Soliloquy of Satan, is performed next.  Satan (Christopher Yoo) tells the story of his fall from heaven.  The ensemble play demons, tortured souls and heavenly spirits.

Selections from the 2nd Century Gospel of Nicodemus describe the Harrowing of Hell.  On the night of Good Friday, Jesus broke down the gates of Hell to rescue the prophets and patriarchs imprisoned there.  The ensemble are monks outfitted in red robes as they recite quotations dating from a 19th century translation.

The fourth and final scene has Jesus (Benjamin Beruh) triumphantly descending into hell between his crucifixion and his resurrection.  Salvation has been brought to all the righteous since the beginning of the world.  That’s all the way back to a leaf wearing Adam and Eve.

In Middle English, the play’s opening lines are:  Alle herkneth to nou/ A strif wolle y tellen ou/ Of Jhesu ant of Sathan,-/ Tho Jhesu wes to helle y-gan/ Forte vachhe thenne hys,/ Ant bringen hem to parays.  The rhyming scheme is typical of this period.  For this production, the lines are translated to:  All hear harken to me now/ A contest will I now avow/ Between Jesus and of Satan,/ When Jesus down to Hell’s gate ran/ To find his comrades in a trice/ And bring them back to paradise.

Connor Chaney played God in the first section and performed the prologue and epilogue in The Harrowing of Hell.  His performance was big and very enjoyable.  The exaggerating gestures and booming vocals felt appropriate to a religious story meant to inspire and, likely, frighten uneducated souls during the Dark Ages.  Mr. Yoo’s masked Satan was fun and Mr. Beruh’s Jesus was calmly heroic.

I appreciated the opportunity to experience this historical artifact as an intellectual curiosity.  The production, however, is very off-off Broadway.  The actors are quite young and, in a few cases, their inexperience shows.  (Did I see stage fright?)  With a shoestring budget Terry Prideaux’s all black set construction framing the burning fires of hell accomplished an appropriate mood.

www.theharrowofhell.com

theaterreviewsfrommyseat/hadestown

Twelfth Night (Duende Productions)

Over the last five years, I have seen four versions of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, or What You Will.  Mark Rylance was a mesmerizing Olivia on Broadway.  The combination of two well-regarded theater companies, Classic Stage and Fiasco, presented a less successful production last year.  Bedlam did two versions in repertory with the actors switching roles.  One was called What You Will (or twelfth night) with both a simple set and costumes bathed in all white.  This same aesthetic is on display with Duende Productions in their inaugural show of this oft-performed classic.

White is a smart choice to define a canvas where gender identity is fluid.  The twins Sebastian and Viola are separated in a shipwreck.  Disguised as a man named Cesario, Viola falls in love with Duke Orsino who is in love with Countess Olivia.  Olivia thinks Cesario is a man and falls in love with the disguised Viola.  Adding to that love triangle, several characters conspire to convince Olivia’s pompous steward, Malvolio, that she is interested in him.

Written as a “twelfth night” Christmas entertainment, the original would have included music.  In this production, Feste the Clown (Olivia Vessel) strums original music on her guitar and there are good songs throughout.  “If music be the food of love, play on.”  The play is performed in only one act, a very long time to remain seated on relatively stiff off-off Broadway folding chairs.

For its first production, Duende’s Founding Artistic Director Amy Gaither-Hayes wanted to create a bare staging to bring “the focus back to the language.”  I’m not sure this intention is truly unique but the eight actors in this play were committed to the bard’s words with very simple props and minimal costume changes.  Lines are certainly played with such as the humorous reference to “fishmonger, hugger-mugger crap.”

The energetic cast appears to be relishing the opportunity to dive headfirst into their broadly conceived characterizations.  There is a lot of scenery being chewed here.  (Check that.  The scenery is non-existent so it must have been chewed already!)  When this play’s famously hilarious scenes do occur, those decisions ensure funny will indeed happen.

The cast is visibly sitting throughout this production on the sidelines.  As was the case with last season’s Fiasco interpretation, the cast is often laughing much louder than the audience.  That effect can be fun but can also seem like a distracting and forced laugh track.  Whichever your opinion, when Jim Ireland’s fun-hating, puritanical Malvolio is on stage, you cannot help but be mightily amused.  This tattling, power hungry schemer’s comeuppance is one of the show’s high points.

Seth Rue nicely fills the double bill of Sir Toby and Sebastian, distinguished by different accents and wearing a hat (or not).  Everyone has memorable moments.  I especially enjoyed Richard Busser’s intense Duke Orsino, Alexandra Bonesho’s captivating speech when Antonio is accused and Kaileela Hobby’s delightful Viola.

Ms. Hayes directed this production and also starred as Olivia and played Valentine.  Her performance was, I presume, intentionally more subdued than the vigorously emotive acting by the rest of the cast.  As a result, this version of Twelfth Night seemed a bit out of balance.  That is not uninteresting, just different.

The other, more unfortunate problem is that cleverness trumped clarity.  If you’ve never seen Twelfth Night before, I am not sure this is the right place to jump in without prereading a synopsis.  With only one act, some of the language is seriously rushed.  Conceptual creativity is usually entertaining.  When it overshadows storytelling, however, the mission cannot be considered completely successful.

I look forward to Duende’s next effort.  For its first outing, the team assembled some impressively talented (and well-matched) performers that were seemingly given ample freedom to bring their characters to life.  With more focus on the core storytelling, the creative flourishes will be even more appreciated.

www.duendeproduction.org

theaterreviewsfrommyseat/twelfthnight/classicstagefiascotheater

Mrs. Murray’s Menagerie (Ars Nova)

In their new, larger off-Broadway home at the Greenwich Theater, Ars Nova presents Mrs. Murray’s Menagerie.  The play was created by The Mad Ones and the ensemble, similar to the formula used for the hilarious Miles for Mary a few seasons ago.  The former was about a group of teachers assembling in the school lounge to discuss a fundraiser.  This play concerns a focus group of parents giving feedback on proposed sequels to a beloved children’s television series.

The entire theater has been reconfigured to look like a community center (excellent set design by You-Shin Chen and Laura Jellinek).  When Jim (Marc Bovino) arrives to begin setting up a table with blank name cards, he walks over to the kitchen and dials the rotary phone.  We are firmly in the 1970’s in this subtly stinging yet firmly comedic examination of human perceptions.

Six parents of young children are providing feedback to Dale (Brad Heberlee), the moderator.  Jim is the scribe and recorder of the discussion.  Dale informs the group that Mrs. Murray’s Menagerie is only going to be on television for one more year.  The lead actress is retiring.  Before moving on to the sequels, the group is asked to comment on the existing series.  What do we like about the show?  Dislike?  How does it relate to your family?  If you were to offer a piece of advice, what would that be?

Three women and three men are providing roundtable feedback.  At first, they are tentative as one would expect when strangers get together.  Personality traits do emerge.  Cici (January LaVoy) is admittedly bossy.  Wayne (Michael Dalto) is a flannel wearing blue collar type.  As conversations flow, opinions are similar and different, creating many levels of tension.

The audience observes this wholly naturalistic meeting.  Acutely directed by Lila Neugebauer, Mrs. Murray’s Menagerie hardly seems like a play.  The words are memorable and effortlessly believable.  Each characters body language adds volumes of information about their personalities.  In a very close call, my favorite performance is Stephanie Wright Thompson’s Gloria.  A bit more timid than the others, she comments “that’s what I was going to say.”  When the conversation turns to breakfast, she feels the sting of judgment from the others (at least in her head).  We see defensiveness and simmering annoyance on her face and in her reply.

The completely realistic atmosphere adds layers of complexity to the focus group discussion.  How are we alike and different as parents?  What is an effective punishment for misbehavior?  Which of the show’s many puppets do your children relate to the most?  One of Mrs. Murray’s friends is described as “flamboyant.”  How we see others, our biases and prejudices pepper all of this remarkably clever dialogue.

In Miles for Mary, the characters were sharply drawn caricatures of school teachers.  The conflicts were heavier and sharper.  This play is more modulated during confrontational moments which makes sense.  Teachers who work together for years would have a natural rhythm to their interactions based on a shared history.  Complete strangers talking about themselves and their children would logically be more guarded.

Mrs. Murray’s Menagerie is exceptional theater.  The entire cast is superb.  A creative idea has been carefully cultivated to bloom by these actors and this theater company.  Inventive and hilarious, the play succeeds in elevating a very specific situation into a psychological study of ourselves and how our viewpoints shape how we see the world.  No lecturing, grandiose speeches or pontificating needed.  Just watch, listen and think.

Which sequel do you prefer?  Candace’s Cabinet or Teddy’s Treehouse?  Take a seat and find out.  Laughs are guaranteed.

www.arsnovanyc.com

www.themadones.org

theaterreviewsfrommyseat/milesformary

June is the First Fall

The Mid-Autumn Festival is celebrated by the Chinese (and other Asian cultures) in late September or early October.  With a full moon, this family gathering has the feeling of thanksgiving, a gathering together of loved ones.  When this particular family finally completes emigrating to Hawai’i, they cannot wait until fall to get their mooncakes and rejoice.  For them, June is the First Fall.  From that moment on, they begin their tradition and the family’s festival is always held on this much earlier date.

At the beginning of Yilong Liu’s play, Don is seated on an airplane and a woman is talking to him.  The scene is a dreamlike memory.  Don is returning home to Honolulu’s Manoa Valley after a ten year absence.  He now lives in New York.  With the passage of time, memories crystallize and cannot be shaken.  Memories are scattered throughout this endearing study of culture, family and personal growth.

Don’s sister Jane (Stefani Kuo) and her boyfriend Scott (Karsten Otto) live with her father David (Fenton Li).  Scott works in his restaurant.  David left China to find a better life when his children were very small.  Years later they were reunited and this house in America became their home.  When it was time for college, son Don heads to the mainland, far away from the burden of expectations.

While the situations explored in this play are not unique, the relaxed pace gives this material a fresh smell.  Jane hangs her sheets outside rather than using the dryer as sun-dried sheets are soothing.  She wants her brother to have clean linen to sleep on when he arrives.  As we will learn, Don does need soothing.  And healing.  And closure.  And a push forward.

Don is a gay man who fled his home as so many others do.  New York City can be welcoming but cold.  Don’s long awaited return ignites memories of his dead mother.  Chun Cho plays her ghost in the many memory scenes.  Her performance is a perfect mix of eccentric foreigner, naturalistic mother and spiritual sounding board.  The play nicely evokes the important imprints left during one’s impressionable youth.

June is the First Fall features a good cast of actors.  As Don, Alton Alburo’s is a believably confused, irritably defensive young man who still needs to toughen up.  Stefani Kuo and Karsten Otto played the couple with the easy chemistry of a playful romantic relationship.  The family patriarch, as one would expect, is the person whose opinion matters most.  Fenton Li thoughtfully inhabited him.  His personal beliefs and cultural influences believably conflicted with the the love of family and the wisdom of age.  As performances continue, this comfortable familial vibe should grow even richer.

In the relatively small New Ohio Theater, the creative team has done an excellent job.  With evocative scenic design (Jean Kim) and creative lighting (Cha See), this family’s healing materializes in the home, on a plane and during a hike through the valley.  Michael Costagliola’s sound design noticeably contributed to the various locales which were employed in telling this tale.

June is the First Fall addresses the ghosts of the past which linger in our heads.  In a pivotal scene, we hear:  “I know there are times that we all feel like we are trapped in a loop.”  Are there paths to grow and move on rather than feel held back with no escape?  Well directed by Michael Leibenluft, this story is smoothly paced to unravel this family’s secrets and hopes and learnings. 

www.newohiotheatre.org

King Lear

Famous for being a great (or perhaps greatest) powerhouse role for an actor who can dominate a stage, King Lear arrives on Broadway with last year’s Tony winning Best Actress, Glenda Jackson in the title role.  At 82 years old, she does command a stage.  She goes about the business of descent into madness efficiently.  I cannot say hers is a Lear for the ages because the production is simply not good.

The stage is adorned with a garish gold lobby.  Miriam Buether did the scenic design.  A ruler with moralistically challenged daughters and son-in-laws conniving for their slice of the empire.  It’s so blatantly Trump Hotel that it is boring.  Too many productions this year are referencing the same target.  Original compositions by Philip Glass are played by four musicians underscoring a world of privilege.

One of the the Fool’s speeches proclaims:  “And bawds and whores do churches build; Then shall the realm of Albion/Come to great confusion.”  At the end of this damning soliloquy the Fool (Ruth Wilson) pulls up her pant legs to show socks with the American flag.  Exclamation point or thematic excess, your call.  Sam Gold directed this very uneven production.

King Lear is certainly juicy enough to satisfy if the acting rose above the setting.  That is not the case.  In an attempt to provide more gender neutrality to the casting, the usually fantastic Jayne Houdyshell portrays the Earl of Gloucester.  The performance is flat and her lines are flubbed all over the place.  With one of the moral centers of the play this ineffectively realized, there is a collapse which cannot be recovered.

Lear’s daughters Goneril (Elizabeth Marvel) and Regan (Aisling O’Sullivan) are a mixed bag of unrelated concepts.  Ms. Marvel’s characterization was fun and very contemporary.  Ms. O’Sullivan’s was one unearthed from various countries and different accents with more than a whiff of Desperate Housewives thrown in.  Why did Ms. Wilson play Cordelia and the Fool?

There are some pleasures to be enjoyed onstage through this long slog.  Pedro Pascal’s Edmund, the illegitimate son of the Earl of Gloucester, delivered a fully realized villain.  John Douglas Thompson was spot on as the king’s loyal and selfless aide.  In the role of banished son Edgar, Sean Carvajal was my favorite performance in both speech and physicality.  I have to add that Oswald’s death scene, as portrayed by Matthew Maher, was a high point.  The proceedings were so boring that the levity was a welcome relief.

Now for very important information.  If your tickets are located far to the right or left of the stage, you will miss key scenes.  I had trouble and there were at five people sitting to my right.  These were not “obstructed view” priced tickets.  Did no one think that the entire audience might want to experience this whole play?  It is not as if the directorial choice was so phenomenally interesting.  These scenes are essentially characters just sitting on a bench.  Dozens and dozens of theatergoers were unforgivably short changed.

I thought Glenda Jackson was truly marvelous in last year’s Three Tall Women.  Here she shows us all that she can run a difficult marathon and finish, if not win.  Overall, however, this production is a sorry mess and cannot be recommended.

www.kinglearonbroadway.com

theaterreviewsfrommyseat/threetallwomen

WHORE

When taking a seat in the Paradise Factory Theatre downtown, the stage backdrop suggests a large scrapbooking canvas.  Pictures of children and the wilderness.  Happy, peaceful images.  They are layered and have texture.  Some of the edges are uneven around the borders reminiscent of photographs from long ago.  Boldly titled in capital letters, WHORE will be heading down the path of memoir told with the passage of time.

Suzanne Tufan is the writer, performer and producer of this piece, her first full length play.  The story is one woman’s journey of survival and transformation.  From the age of five until adulthood, Ms. Tufan is chronicling a history scarred by an overbearing father.  He is portrayed as a conservative man who is deeply into astrology and meditation.  The wearing of lipstick (and other infractions) seemingly connotate WHORE in his mind.

That oppression is the fundamental conflict pursued in this therapeutic exercise of analysis, healing and creative expression.  The tone is an odd yet interesting combination of gleefully childlike and bitterly hardened.  As an actress, she learns to use music and dance for creative expression.  That outlet is also employed here in her original songs and expressive movements.

Unfortunately the story feels very sketchily drawn.  Intentionally shocking blurbs like discovering masturbation at seven years old are hurled before quickly moving on.  At nine, she begins to have fantasies about boys peeing on her.  A throwaway comment or thematic revelation?  I thought about that line longer than the play did.  Relationships which obviously have had some major impact are discussed but not explored in any depth whatsoever.  As a result, the play seems like an outline rather than a multi-layered scrapbook.

Lindsey Hope Pearlman’s direction efficiently moves this story along and, critically, gives the material some gravitas.  Ms. Tufan is a tremendously winning stage presence.  There simply is no storytelling beneath the headlines written and performance indulgences.

Did her father believe she was a whore?  Was he puritanical or just mean?  Did her mind create this drama from a guilty conscience?  Is this personal story meant to shine a light on society as a whole?  An astrological wheel chart is repeatedly consulted, illuminating nothing.  Which are the five most important moments?  Why not explore them for more than a nanosecond?

If you can imagine it (or understand the reference), Whore feels like The Donna Reed Show updated into the present.  There is a lot more sexual frankness and sharing for sure.  The main character just smiles throughout and keeps us far away from seeing a lifelike person.  While that may have been a stylistic choice, it separates the actor and the audience rather than connecting them spiritually.    In a theatrical monologue which aims for richly revealing, we instead see a talented actress shoehorning her skills into an ineffectively told memoir.

www.paradisefactory.org

The White Devil (Red Bull Theater)

Written by John Webster in 1612, The White Devil belongs to the early modern genre of revenge tragedy.  A crime spurs retaliation that inspires further revenge.  The original full title is The White Divel; or, The Tragedy of Paolo Giordano Ursini, Duke of Brachiano With The Life and Death of Vittoria Corombona, the famous Venetian Curtisan.  The play is based on a true story involving infidelity, religion and murder.

The Duke of Brachiano (Daniel Oreskes) is lustily obsessed with Vittoria Corombona (Lisa Birnbaum), the daughter of a noble but impoverished Venetian family.  Unfortunately both are married.  His wife is Isabella of the de Medici clan.  The Duke’s secretary and Vittoria’s brother Flamineo (Tommy Schrider) is the social climber type and wants his sister’s fortunes to rise.  He arranges for the clever and creative killings of the two unwanted spouses.

Revenge plots emerge and, as might be expected, more murders happen.  The juiciest section of this play is when Vittoria is placed on trial.  Defiantly proclaiming her innocence, she is dressed head to toe in white, a slap in the face to a society dripping with hypocritical morality.  Although there is scant evidence, Cardinal Monticelso (Robert Cuccioli) finds her guilty, sentencing her to a convent for penitent whores.

The character of Vittoria is fascinating as an aggressively feminist, outspoken woman.  Her scandalous love affair is not a source of embarrassment.  Standing trial before a male dominated church and state, she insists that they speak in her native tongue not in Latin.  Courageously, she challenges the powerful and unmasks a double standard.  Why are her crimes punished when those committed by men are not?

The Red Bull Theater specializes in reviving the Jacobean plays of Shakespeare and his contemporaries.  ‘Tis Pity She’s A Whore was one of my favorite productions of 2015.  Unfortunately, this version of The White Devil frequently missed the mark.  The set design alternated between cool and too contemporary.  The video projections were effective in showing remote scenes such as banishment or murder.  However, the sterile and white lounge area (office?) seemed at odds with the dialogue.  Manual opening and closing of curtains or blinds felt like busy distractions.

The lighting (Jiyoun Chang) was so bright that any sense of nuance was lost.  Director Louisa Proske may have been going for an examination of this play’s themes under a harsh microscope.  When a play contains the line “women are more chaste when less restrained of their liberties,” the words speak volumes.  I can only guess that the modern décor is meant to underscore a parallel to our current times.  I believe I could have easily drawn that line myself.

I enjoyed experiencing the play as a fascinating artifact rather than this particular production.  The style of acting seemed to be an odd mishmash of formality and looseness.  Ms. Birnbaum’s Vittoria definitely reminded me of my Italian relatives who possessed strong backbones and questionable morals.  Robert Cuccoli’s Cardinal dripped with sanctimonious venom while wearing a gorgeous outfit (terrific costumes by Beth Goldenberg).  As the slinky cad Flamineo, Mr. Schrider nicely embodied the time period with a modern physicality.  Derek Smith as Count Lodovico, another revenge obsessed character, was an ideal blend of crazy and committed with a commanding stage presence.

I must point out that some audience members did not stay for the second half.  A gentleman who sat back down to give it a chance awkwardly walked out a few minutes later.  I am a big fan of theater companies that mount older works and I enjoyed experiencing this grand tragedy.  The overall production was disappointing though.  The material came across as flat and clinical rather than hotheaded and passionate like a holiday gathering of my youth.

www.redbulltheater.com

LIFE SUCKS. (Wheelhouse Theater)

A month ago I saw Austin Pendleton portray a teacher on Broadway in the fine play Choir Boy.  Now he is the elderly Professor with a much younger third wife.  They are visiting with Sonia and Uncle Vanya in this adaptation of Chekhov’s play.  Right from the start, the cast informs that LIFE SUCKS. is about love and longing, true to the spirit of its source material.  The Professor notes “it’s also about the audacious, ludicrous and protean nature of the obstreperous and ever-feckless human heart.”  Vanya points out “he has a penchant for sesquipedalian elocution.”  Fans of word play will lick their chops listening to some of this dialogue.

Aaron Posner (My Name is Asher Levy) spins an effective comedy out of these familiar characters and situations.  Families are hard wired to totally upset each other.  Lovesick dreamers are bound to be hurt with disappointment when feelings are not mutual.  LIFE SUCKS. attempts to answer the question, “Is love real – or a manmade construct like religion… or football?”

There are plenty of laughs throughout this production.  The actors play characters who know they are in a play and often break the wall to speak directly to the audience.  In a scene titled “3 Things I Love,” permanent house guest Babs (Barbara Kingsley) adds to her list:  “the crisp clink of cubes of ice in a really sturdy glass.”  The rampantly desirable Ella (Nadia Bowers) asks the audience “how many of you would like to sleep with me if you could?”  Some hands were raised.

Nearly everyone seems to be in love with Ella, including Pickles (Stacey Linnartz) who is somehow related to the family and “an acquired taste.”  The script defines her as a “relentlessly positive utopian lesbian.”  She takes things a bit literally.  After one of the Professor’s acerbic barbs she comments “it’s sometimes hard to tell if you are complimenting us or insulting us.”  His sardonic reply:  “Isn’t it?”

In between jokes, there is all the Chekovian self-absorption, self-deprecation and self-torture one could hope for.  This playwright knows it is always fun to “watch privileged, arrogant people argue endlessly” about meaningless esoteric minutiae.  Swiftly directed by Jeff Wise (Happy Birthday, Wanda June), LIFE SUCKS. is fun theater.

Each member of this cast nicely bears all of the angst boiling inside their characters.  As Dr. Aster, Michael Schantz exudes all the charm needed to woo an unsatisfied Ella.  Too bad for Sonia he’s so desirable and uninterested.  Maybe that’s why she hates her body, her face and “the lie of literature.”  Aster tries to advise his dear friend Vanya (Jeff Biehl) who is slathered in despair.  The basic message to us all:  “if you don’t like your life then do something.”

My message to you:  if you want to chuckle and watch a well-cast set of actors give the Chekhov clan another enjoyably silly update, then do something.  Head downtown to The Wild Project and buy a ticket.  We’re all gonna die eventually.  Why not have a laugh or two before then?

www.wheelhousetheater.org

theaterreviewsfrommyseat/choirboy

theaterreviewsfrommyseat/happybirthdaywandajune

The Lehman Trilogy

“Grabbing and greed can go on for just so long, but the breaking point is bound to come sometime.”  That quote is from Herbert Lehman who was a partner at his family’s firm from 1908 through 1928.  He later became governor of New York and a U.S. senator.  His part of the tale told in The Lehman Trilogy is smack dab in the middle of the story.  This three act masterpiece begins before the Civil War and ends with the firm’s demise in the financial crisis of 2008.

The first part is subtitled “Three Brothers.”  In 1844, Henry Lehman emigrated from Bavaria to the “magical music box called America.”  By the time his two brothers followed, he had already established a business in Montgomery, Alabama selling fabrics and suits.  It didn’t take them long to figure out how to get involved in the lucrative cotton business.  Emanuel headed north to New York and the family connections to the cotton mills were established.

Although their roots were in the south and rebuilding was a profitable venture after the Civil War, the business relocated to the bustling economic juggernaut that was (and still is) New York City.  In Part II, “Fathers and Sons” expand their empire with shrewd strategic investments in railways, airplanes and Hollywood.  Emanuel’s son Philip is now running the show.  In 1929, the firm was renamed The Lehman Corporation in recognition of another iteration of its changing business model to an investment company.  This financially focused entity was based on “pure money” and “pure adrenaline.”  Then the stock market crashed and the Great Depression ensued.

The final part of this trilogy is “The Immortal.”  Philip’s son Bobbie is now at the helm.  Money is still being made investing in the weapons of war, televisions and computers.  When he ages out of the business in the 1960s, the company transitions to a series of non-family members.  Trading becomes the dominant profit machine.  The company gets ensnared in the subprime mortgage abomination.  With no major political connections any longer, they are made an example of and left to die.

The story of this firm’s implosion is well known.  The Lehman Trilogy remarkably tells this 150 year saga with three actors inhabiting all of the characters.  They play all the Lehman men, their wives, children, other businessmen and even the owner of a Greek diner in Nebraska.  The amount of detail covered is staggeringly dense yet simplistically clear to follow.  The explanation of the business and its evolutions, particularly in the first two acts, is exemplary storytelling.

Simon Russell Beale, Adam Godley and Ben Miles perform this 3:20 two intermission marathon without leaving the stage.  And what a stage it is!  In the enormous Park Avenue Armory, Set Designer Es Devlin has created a spinning multiroom music box which looks a conference room perched atop the world of privilege.  A single piano underscores the dialogue.  The actors are astonishing in their ability to inhabit so many people with incredible physical and vocal expressiveness.

Sam Mendes directed this outstanding production with both brilliant style and focused storytelling.  Everyone knows the ending.  The firm dances through danger before spinning out of control.  The visual representation of that is stunningly theatrical, disorienting and nothing short of genius.  “The important thing is not to stop.”

Stop they did, however, with famous images of its employees carrying their file boxes out of the building at the end.  In my corporate career, file boxes represented the storage of documents and business history.  Here they are creatively employed throughout in support of this epic.

This piece is long and dense.  If I had one small quibble, it would be with the third part.  The business dealings and strategic machinations early on as the company grew were beautifully explained.  When the crazy days of out of control moneymen arrived, the opportunity to elucidate the business model did not happen with the same ease.  I assume that was an intentional choice in order to represent the heady unregulated financial markets as a lunatic asylum.

The Lehman Trilogy is highly recommended for theatergoers who enjoy superb actors giving outstanding performances.  It’s also highly recommended for those with a keen interest in tales of finance and American business.  In our current time of immigrant bashing it’s also highly recommended as a tale of the American dream.  And the American nightmare.

www.armoryonpark.org

Network

The 1976 Academy Award winning film Network was a broad satire on television, its news programming and society in general.  Lee Hall (Billy Elliot) has adapted Paddy Chayefsky’s celebrated screenplay for the stage.  What is perhaps most striking is that the story seems less satirical and more grounded in our current reality.  Imagine an America whose citizens want their television personalities to express their rage out loud.

According to anchorman Howard Beale, the world is a “demented slaughterhouse.”  His viewership is poor and he gets fired.  On his program, he announces a plan to kill himself on air the following week.  Ranting and raving about all of life’s “bullshit,” his ratings begin to increase.  He morphs into an angry prophet denouncing the hypocrisy of our times.  The people respond.  He may be off his rocker but good ratings equal good profits.

Bryan Cranston (All the Way, Breaking Bad) is riveting in the role that won Peter Finch a posthumous Oscar.  There is a scene where the camera is rolling and he cannot muster the focus, strength, courage or words to begin speaking.  It’s just dead air and a tormented face.  The television executives argue whether to cut him off.  They don’t and what eventually follows is a superlative rant for the ages.

Mr. Cranston is so good in the madman crazy sections that the latter stages of the play seem a tad too sane.  (I’ll admit that the story arc does seems quite believable today.)  Unfortunately much of what surrounds this enthralling performance is either innocuously bland or annoying distracting.  As  director, Ivo Van Hove often stages plays with multimedia projections.  For a show about the medium of television, this makes sense.  The parade of television commercials from the 1970’s is fun, especially when Mr. Cranston is offstage and you want something interesting to pay attention to.

On stage there are theatergoers on one side sitting at a bar.  Network backstage operations are filled with people, screens and electronics on the other side.  With much of Mr. Cranston’s performance projected on screen, there are studio employees milling about, often blocking the actors from view.  The recorded music and other assorted noises which blare out on speakers throughout the play are simply annoying after awhile.  I suppose the frenetic staging is supposed to be disarming and purposely unfocused.  The problem is that the excesses don’t cover up the weaknesses well enough.

The play as presented is over two hours without an intermission.  At least fifteen minutes could have been trimmed without any loss of style or substance.  The actors surrounding Mr. Cranston competently say their lines but real characters do not emerge.  As Diana Christensen, Tatiana Maslany (Mary Page Marlowe, Orphan Black) is not nearly as manipulative or ruthless as needed.  We don’t need to like her.  She is a villain and a climber.  Tony Goldwyn (Promises, Promises, Scandal) plays a bewildered Max Schumacher going through the motions of life without the necessary emotive conflicts to make us understand him.  His passions are spoken about but not evidenced.  (Their sex scene was hilarious though.)

After the curtain call, snippets from the swearing in ceremonies of United States’ Presidents are shown.  Images from more than half a century, finishing with Trump who is predictably booed.  This pandering to the theater audience is insipid.  Did the creative team think we needed this coda to draw parallels to now?

Arthur Jensen (Nick Wyman, excellent) appears as the wealthy network Chairman who convinces Howard Beale to become a television prophet. His scene is set on a high platform suggesting a godlike figure.  His worldview is not based on countries anymore but is a collage of corporations.  Presumably the Trump footage was intended to highlight that viewpoint in bold.

Network can be recommended as very good theater particularly notable for Bryan Cranston’s extraordinary performance.  If you don’t know the story from the film, that is another reason to go.  The show suffers a little from technological excess as the images become more important than the people.  It’s theatrical for sure but not necessarily more interesting (or disturbing) than what is broadcast on television every day.

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