Vanya (Lucille Lortel Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

Andrew Scott is certainly riding a career high: the Irish actor’s much praised turn as Garry Essendine in an updating of Noel Coward’s “Present Laughter” at the National Theatre (also streamed); his starring role in the gripping Netflix “Ripley” series; his extraordinary performance in “All of Us Strangers” on the big screen; and this, his one-man performance of Chekhov’s “Uncle Vanya,” in which he takes on all nine parts.

The last played London’s West End, and also streamed in cinemas, courtesy of NT Live, and has now come to town where we get to see Scott’s amazing tour de force in person. Scott actually trod the boards in New York in 2006 with a supporting role in David Hare’s “The Vertical Hour” with Julianne Moore and Bill Nighy in their respective Broadway debuts but now he’s very much center stage. 

Adapter Simon Stephen, director Sam Yates, and designer Rosanna Vize all share co-creator credit with Scott himself, and in all, they’ve done a masterful job of distilling the action to the concept at hand. Though it’s clear things have been updated from the 19th century, the names have been Anglicized --Mikhail Astrov, the doctor, is called Michael, Marina the nanny is Maureen, Waffles is called Liam, Yelena is Helena and so on -- and all the accents are Irish, “Vanya”is in essence scrupulously faithful to its source. The most blatant alteration is Helena’s elderly pompous husband Alexander is now a filmmaker rather than a retired professor. 

So, too, there are some 20th century music cues.There is a sprinkling of f-words, a revision that even David Mamet, never one to shy away from an expletive, eschewed in his excellent adaptation of decades ago.

Otherwise, Chekhov is treated with due reverence, and the adaptation seems far more authentic than many other “Vanyas” we’ve had of late, including last season’s starry revival at Lincoln Center. 

Scott morphs effortlessly from character to character, sometimes leaving the stage through an upstage door to emerge two seconds later as with a different persona. And sometimes just changing position, or throwing his voice like a deft ventriloquist.

Much of Scott’s delivery is in a naturalistically quiet, conversational tone, requiring us to listen intently,  though he rises to dramatic heights in the scene of Vanya’s violent outburst. 

Which is not to say that there isn't an occasional confusion as to who is speaking even with a minimal use of props that sometimes help with character identification. Vanya initially wears shades. Michael compulsively bounces a ball. Sonia, Alexander’s daughter, plays with a cloth. Helena fiddles with her necklace. But more often everything is accomplished purely with body language and vocal delivery.

Still and all, a familiarity with "Uncle Vanya" makes a richer experience, and if you plan to see it, I would bone up on the play. (Helpfully, there are several superb productions on YouTube.)

Fabulous as Scott is, I won’t pretend that there weren’t moments I longed for a full cast but Scott’s dexterity and skill are more than compensation. So, too, his assumption of all the roles makes clear the commonality of their loneliness and sense of unfulfillment. 

Vize’s set gives Scott ample playing space, but one not rooted in a specific time or place: a table, some chairs, a swing (favored by Helena), a player piano (poignantly used to invoke the memory of Vanya’s late sister who had been married to Alexander before Helena). 

(Lucille Lortel Theatre, 121 Christopher Street, vanyaonstage.com, through May 11)

Photo by Julieta Cervantes: Andrew Scott

Ghosts (LIncoln Center Theater)

By Harry Forbes

The first few minutes of director Jack O’Brien’s production of Henrik Ibsen’s once controversial and still provocative 1881 classic had me bracing for my second high concept deconstruction ot the week; the other being Rebecca Frecknall’s defiantly untraditional “A Streetcar Named Desire.”

For at the start of “Ghosts,” the actors shuffle out on stage in street clothes, and casually begin to mumble the first lines of the play. Then again but in a more outgoing manner. And then again until, presto, the lighting changes, and we’re suddenly “in” the play proper with the rest proving itself nicely conventional after all. Why the play needed that prologue, I still haven’t the foggiest notion, but no matter. 

As it happens, I had recently rewatched the 1987 BBC version directed by Elijah Moshinksy with a knockout cast including Judi Dench, Michael Gambon, Freddie Jones, Kenneth Branagh, and Natasha Richardson, and feared this couldn’t measure up by half. But happy to report that O’Brien’s sturdy staging holds its own. And Irish playwright Mark O’Rowe’s adaptation -- first done at the Abbey Theatre a couple of years ago -- is an exemplary one.

The cast here is excellent across the board. Lily Rabe is predictably compelling as the wealthy widow Mrs. Alving who lives on an island off the coast of Norway, and who is about to have an orphanage dedicated to the memory of her late husband. This coincides with the return of her long-absent and now mysteriously enervated son Oswald (Levon Hawke), and a visit from an old family friend Pastor Manders (Billy Crudup) who will officiate at the impending ceremony. Mrs. Alving has lived alone in the house with her housekeeper Regina (Ella Beatty) whose ne’er-do-well father Engstrand (Hamish Linklater) is the orphanage carpenter who wants Regina to return to him and help start some sort of hostel for visiting sailors. 

Into this basic setup, revelations soon abound, in the standard Ibsen way, and without giving any spoilers, as the play is arguably not so well known as some of his other works, suffice to say that incest, venereal disease, infidelity, substance abuse, debauchery, euthanasia,  and blackmail are all part of the whole, as well as all around disparaging of conventional morality. The Manders character  is the self proclaimed moral compass of all that unfolds. 

Rabe’s dry and acerbic delivery makes all her lines land sharply, and Crudup proves an expert sparring partner in Mrs. Alving’s scenes with the sanctimonious Manders. Linklater skillfully walks the line between earnest sincerity and fawning calculation, particularly in his dealings with Manders.  Relative newcomers Hawke and Beatty are excellent, and though I wouldn’t normally mention it, they are perhaps both early enough along in their careers to point out that Hawke is the son of Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman; and Beatty, the daughter of Warren Beatty and Annette Bening. They’ve each learned -- or inherited -- their crafts impressively.

Hawke plays his enigmatic part well, and convincingly rises to the high drama of his final scene with Rabe. Beatty is likable and unsentimental when she has to show her mettle.

John Lee Beatty’s simple set establishes the locale beautifully, aided by Japhy Weidenman’s atmospheric lighting, and Scott Lehrer and Mark Bennett’s rain-dominated sound design. A mid-play catastrophic event is particularly well handled by all. Jess Goldstein’s period costumes likewise add to the verisimilitude of the action.

The play runs one hour and 50 minutes without an interval, and rivets your attention throughout.

(Lincoln Center Theater at the Mitzi E. Newhouse; lct.org; through April 26)

Photo by Jeremy Daniel: (l.-r.) Lily Rabe, Billy Crudup

A Streetcar Named Desire (Brooklyn Academy of Music)

By Harry Forbes

Director Rebecca Frecknall’s highly stylized rethinking of Tennessee Williams 1947 classic may not be to all tastes, but there’s much to admire. Of primary interest, of course, is Irish actor Paul Mescal’s assumption of Stanley Kowalski, much praised in London when the production was first mounted in late 2022 and, as we can see now, rightly so. 

He absolutely lives up to advance reports, creating a thoroughly original and menacing Stanley not at all in the Marlon Brando mold, but equally compelling. Mescal’s cries for “Stella!” are uniquely his own, and indeed all the familiar lines register as freshly minted.

He’s perhaps the most satisfying Stanley of my experience, though I’d give a strong nod to Joel Edgerton who played opposite Cate Blachett’s Blanche in 2009 also, as it happens, at BAM. 

The casting on this occasion is diverse in the current fashion, and there’s also superior work from Anjana Vasan as Blanche’s sympathetic sister Stella, and Dwayne Walcott, very touching and real, as Blanche’s gentlemanly suitor Mitch. 

Opinion may be more divided on Patsy Ferran’s individual take on Blanche. Ferran stepped in for injured actress Lydia Wilson prior to the London opening, and was generally warmly embraced by press there.  Far from the genteel fading blonde Southern belle of tradition, the dark-haired, wide-eyed Ferran plays her as an all-out hysteric right from the start, though settles down to a more nuanced portrayal as the play progresses. 

But throughout, her generally flat American cadences can sometimes seem at odds with Williams’ poetic passages. (There are vestiges of a Southern accent but it comes and goes.) And yet, it must be said, the notable scenes still register strongly, and Ferran always gets to the emotional truth of the role: her cat and mouse confrontation with Stanley before he assaults her, the tender and then accusatory scenes with Mitch (“I want magic”), the encounter with the newspaper boy, and the rest.  

There’s no traditional scenery and only minimal props. Rather, designer Madeleine Girling has created a raised platform around which the characters sometimes circle, in Stanley’s case, menacingly. Other cast members occasionally hand props to the players on the platform. Merle Hensel’s costumes are, more or less, suggewtive of the period.

Spurts of high decibel drumming (Tom Penn) dramatically punctuate the action, suggesting not only the sounds of the New Orleans quarter, but Blanche’s agitated state of mind. Much of the ambient sound is intentionally abrasive, as designed by Peter Rice. Lee Curran’s lighting is likewise harsh, as per Frecknall’s concept. There’s also some stylized dancing as in Blanche’s recollections of her late young husband. 

For all this production’s contemporary touches, including a couple of scenes where the cast is drenched in rain, as we’ve seen in so many plays of late, the play still packs a wallop, and earns its ovation at the end.

(Harvey Theater at the BAM Strong, 651 Fulton Street, Brooklyn; bam.org; through April 6)

Photo by Julieta Cervantes: (l.-r.) Paul Mescal, Patsy Ferran

Redwood (Nederlander Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

Idina Menzel fans certainly get their money’s worth in this tailor made musical conceived by the lady herself in tandem with director Tina Landau. The star vehicle, which started out at the La Jolla Playhouse last year, tells the tale of Jesse, an unhappy art gallery owner who, grieving the death of her adult son (Zachary Noah Piser),  leaves her photographer wife Mel (De’Adre Aziza), and drives out to California where she ultimately finds redemption and peace of mind among the majestic Redwood trees. 

When she gets there, botanists Finn (Michael Park) and Becca (Khaila Wilcoxon) come upon Jesse sleeping al fresco in the woods and, though they insist she leave by morning, Jesse stubbornly keeps returning, inexorably drawn to the place. In short order, she begs them for a chance to join them as they make their daily climb. And, of course, eventually she’ll do just that, thanks to the empathetic and paternal Finn who overrules his more pragmatic colleague Becca’s objections. 

After she proves herself, Jesse is even allowed to sleep overnight on the tree’s towering platform. Jesse’s nighttime panic attack and an encroaching forest fire while she’s aloft provide a couple of the show’s few truly compelling moments. 

Thanks to the spectacular scenic and video designs by Jason Ardizzone-West and Hana S. Kim, respectively, there is a wonderful sense of exhilaration during the climbing episodes, but generally, on the human level, the book by Landau is distinctly on the mild side. Even though the other characters have their respective issues too, dramatic interest is thin. And it doesn't help that Jesse, as written, is fairly irritating throughout, and it’s not tempered by much in the way of charm. 

The power ballad-heavy score by Kate Diaz (lyrics by Diaz and Landau) is not particularly memorable on first hearing either and registers as loud and not a little repetitious. But it clearly plays to the strengths of Menzel’s trademark vocal talents. Her big numbers sound like close cousins of her“Wicked” and “Frozen” hits, “Defying Gravity” and “Let It Go.” Some of these are pitched so high that I had trouble deciphering the lyrics. But it must be said her uniquely belting pipes sound as powerful as ever.

Easier on the ear, all in all, were the numbers for Mel, Finn, and Becca. Finn has a rousing number called “Big Time Religion.” Mel’s “Looking Through This Lens” is particularly lovely. And it’s followed by Becca’s big solo moment “Becca’s Song.” (“The Stars” gives Menzel one of her less bombastic numbers.)

Still, Menzel -- a savvy actress as much as a powerhouse singer -- does a commendable job throughout, at one point executing some impressive aerial flying, even singing upside down as she’s strapped to a harness during her song “In the Leaves.” (Vertical movement and choreography are the work of Melecio Estrella, BANDALOOP.)

Piser, who has appeared in other roles throughout the show, returns as Jesse’s son Spencer, and he, too, has an affecting musical moment. 

The show is 110 minutes, sans intermission, but even so, I'm afraid feels protracted.  

(Nederlander Theatre, 208 West 41st Street; RedwoodMusical.com)

Photo by Matthew Murphy: Idina Menzel

Garside’s Career (Mint Theater Company)

By Harry Forbes

British playwright Harold Brighouse (1882-1958) is best remembered for his 1915 “Hobson’s Choice,” frequently revived and famously filmed by David Lean in 1954 as a vehicle for Charles Laughton. But kudos to the Mint for resurrecting this rarity of his from the same era, and according it a belated New York premiere. (Though produced in Boston in 1919, a proposed New York staging never materialized.) 

The play turns out to be a highly absorbing story of a Northern England engineer (mechanic) the titular Peter Garside (Daniel Marconi), who after obtaining a prestigious degree unique for working class background, is persuaded to run as a Labor candidate for a seat in Parliament.

His doting mother (Amelia White) has absolute faith in his chance of success. But his pragmatic schoolteacher fiance Margaret (Madeline Seidman) is skeptical of Peter’s temperamental suitability, given his facile gift of gab (“The itch to speak is like the itch to drink,” she warns), so much so that their engagement is broken. As it happens, Peter wins the seat, but his subsequent overblown sense of self importance and braggadocio about his demagogue-like ability to control the masses with his smooth rhetoric will surely lead to a downfall. And indeed it does.

Contrasted with the working class folks of his hometown of Midlanton, which also includes Peter’s cronies and local party organizers Karl Marx Jones (Michael Schantz), Ned Applegarth (Paul Niebanck), and Dennis O’Callaghan (Erik Gratton), all finely characterized, are the upper crust characters we meet in the second act.

There's the imperious Lady Mottram (Melissa Maxwell), the mayor’s wife and head of the school board where Margaret teaches, who disdains Garside’s socialist views, and her frivolous son Freddie (Avery Whitted) and independent-minded daughter Gladys (Sara Haider) who falls under Peter’s charismatic spell, and who Peter claims is his inspiration after spotting her adoring look during one of his speeches.

Performances are uniformly strong anchored by Marconi who believably captures the charm and hubris of the increasingly cocky Garside, Seidman’s sensible and wise Margaret, and White’s plain speaking mother. 

 

Under Matt Dickson’s assured direction, “Garside’s Career” proves a solid, exceedingly well constructed play with crackling dialogue, both muscular and witty, all of which makes its neglect all the more puzzling. Throughout, Brighouse has skillfully devised many dramatic scenes which unfailingly hold our interest.. 

Christopher Swader and Justin Swader’s sets neatly encompass the Garside’s humble Midlantan cottage, the Mottram drawing room, and later, Peter’s posh London digs. Yiyuan Li’s lighting likewise captures the respective ambience of each locale. Kindall Almond’s costumes are period perfect. And Carson Joenk’s expert sound design includes convincing effects to suggest an unruly mob. 

(Mint Theater Company, 401 West 42nd Street; through March 15)

Photo by Maria Baranova: (l.-r.) Michael Schantz, Erik Gratton,  Paul Niebanck, Daniel Marconi, Madeline Seidman and Amelia White

Dear Jack, Dear Louise (Penguin Rep Theatre and Shadowland Stages)

By Harry Forbes

Playwright Ken Ludwig’s touching two-hander concerns the extraordinary World War II-era courtship of his parents before they had ever actually met: Jacob (Jack) Ludwig, a medical doctor stationed at an Oregon army hospital; and Louise Rabiner, the aspiring Broadway performer. The fathers of both were friends and had suggested they write to each other.

The play premiered in 2019 at Washington DC’s Arena Stage, and now stars Alexandra Fortin and Michael Liebhauser. They are utterly engaging as Jack and Louise begin their awkward, then increasingly comfortable, correspondence. Jack especially is, at first, shyly stiff and formal in their exchanges, but the effervescent Louise loosens him up soon enough.

Ludwig deftly balances the poignancy and humor of the situation, and skillfully avoids any sense of the static sometimes characteristic of an epistolary format. “Conversation” flows briskly between the two, each on opposite ends of the stage. Director Stephen Nachamie must be commended for the smooth pacing, as well as for guiding his appealing leads to give pitch perfect performances. The rom-com flavor of the first act gives way to high drama and heightened suspense in the second, which sees Jack stationed overseas.

It will no doubt amaze younger audience members to learn of a pre-computerized time when, in a situation such as Jack and Louise found themselves, they could only communicate through letters, not even seeing photos of the other until their correspondence was well underway. Though Jack and Louise would not actually meet until V-E Day, Louise did have a memorable visit Jack’s parents in Pennsylvania, and her recounting of the trip -- including the hordes of relatives who greeted her at the train station, and the events which followed -- is a comic highlight. 

Given Louise’s theatrical leanings, showbiz buffs will get a kick out of cultural references to period offerings like “Blithe Spirit,” “Arsenic and Old Lace,” “Hellzapoppin',” and “Oklahoma,” though (one small nitpick) some of the chronology in that regard is somewhat inaccurate. In any case, when Louise volunteers at the Stage Door Canteen, there are fun references to Betty Grable, Hedy Lamarr, and other silver screen luminaries. 

Christian Fleming’s simple setting -- mainly Jack’s army quarters, and Louise’s New York apartment -- cannily differentiated by lighting designer Keith A. Truax -- and swing-era costumes convey the times beautifully. So, too, does Jeff Knapp’s sound design encompassing, as it does, a mood-setting 40s playlist and vivid sounds of battle.

Ludwig is a hugely prolific and unfailingly entertaining playwright as everyone knows, but on this occasion, given the deeply personal subject matter, he writes with particular warmth and genuinely touching sentiment.

(59E59 Theaters, 59 East 59th Street; boxoffice@59e59.org or 646-892-7999; through February 16)

Photo by Dorice Arden: (l..-r.) Michael Liebhauser & Alexandra Fortin

English (Roundabout Theatre Company)

By Harry Forbes

I didn’t catch Sanaz Toossi’s 2022 play about four students taking an English proficiency course in Iran when it played the Atlantic (in a co-production with Roundabout). But now, here it is on Broadway under the auspices of Roundabout, after winning the Pulitzer Prize for drama in 2023. And a very worthy play it is.

It took several minutes to engage me, as I feared the humor of the piece would have rather too much to do with the stumbling malaprops of the native Farsi speaking students. But as “English” progresses, Toossi’s themes of language and how it impacts one’s sense of national identify and native culture becomes clear and profound. 

Right from the start, you tune into Toossi’s clever device of having the cast speak in unaccented English when they are, in fact, speaking Farsi. But when they attempt their often fractured English, they speak with an accent. We get a sense of their "real" selves through the former.

The time is 2008, and their instructor is Marjan (Marjan Neshat) who has lived in Manchester, England for nine years, before returning to her native Karaj. She insists that only English be spoken in the classroom, but the role is frequently broken by her frustrated pupils.

The students, ostensibly there to prepare for the Test of English as a Foreign Language (TOEFL) exam, include Elham (Tala Ashe) who, as we soon learn, has already failed that test several times. She resents having to learn English but is determined to work in Australia in the field of gastroenterology. Roya (Pooya Mohseni), older than the others, needs to learn English so she can join her son and grandchild in Canada, and not embarrass her son who, it seems, disdains his Iranian heritage. And Goli (Ava Lalezarzadeh), a cheerful 18 year old who simply believes English will be a useful tool in the future. Her elucidation of Ricky Martin’s “She Bangs” song, her contribution to a “show and tell” exercise, is the play’s comic highpoint. 

Quite different than the rest is the one male student Omid (Hadi Tabbal), whose English is far better than all the others but says he recognizes his shortcomings in the language. He and Marjan bond over their mutual enjoyment of Western rom-coms like “Notting Hill” and “Moonstruck,”  which Marjan screens in her office to learn greater proficiency. Along the way, an unstated affection grows between them. 

In the classroom, tensions build as the female students wonder whether the struggle to learn English is worth it, at the same time they ponder whether they stand to lose more than they gain from immersing themselves in a language so removed from their own. Tellingly, though, Marjan reveals at one point that she likes herself better in English.

All of this is absorbing and thought provoking and Knud Adams directs with great sensitivity. The cast is uniformly excellent.

The action plays out on Marsha Ginsberg’s revolving box set which allows us to see everything from different angles though occasionally the vertical beams that limn the classroom, block our view of the action; ditto some of the furniture. Reza Behjat’s lighting subtly delineates the time of day. And there is a superbly effective use of music (mostly piano) to cover the scene changes which complement the emotional mood of the preceding scene, and balances the plainness of the classroom setting. . Likewise, a swelling symphonic interlude near the end makes the action before and after even more poignant. 

(Todd Haimes Theatre, 227 West 42nd Street; roundabouttheatre.org or 212-719-1300; thrugh March 2)

Gypsy (Majestic Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

It was only a matter of time before Audra McDonald would join the distinguished line of post-Ethel Merman interpreters of that arguably most demanding of leading lady musical roles -- Rose, the ultimate stage mother -- and she is, as you would expect, quite superb. 

Though it scarcely seems so long, it has already been 18 years since the first-rate Patti LuPone revival, so this latest one is not premature. And director George C. Wolfe’s production is a fine one across the board. Intriguingly, the advance publicity made clear that, far from color blind casting, McDonald would be playing Rose pointedly as a black woman, with her children Gypsy and June presumably of mixed race parentage.  I wondered how that would be conveyed apart from the actual casting, or how the conceit might impact the integrity of the original Arthur Laurents’ book. 

But, as it happens, nothing’s been altered in the script, and race doesn’t overtly figure in any of the plot turns, even on a subliminal level. (Rose’s machinations to get her kids booked meets the standard impediments, but race isn’t one of them.) Still,  this is not color blind casting for McDonald indeed plays the role as a scrappy black woman with the pointed vocal inflections of a woman of a certain class and era. And in so doing, she  creates a unique characterization unlike other Roses we’ve seen, and reminding us yet again of what a potent actress she is even apart from her lustrous voice.

Vocally, McDonald’s trained soprano voice might not seem the ideal fit for the belting Rose, and some of her register shifts are a tad disconcerting at first. But, for the most part, she sings in a chest voice, only morphing into purer soprano tones on the highest notes. 

“Rose’s Turn” is delivered with tremendous ferocity earning a deserved ovation, but she also scores delightfully in the lighter moments like “Have an Egg Roll, Mr. Goldstone,” and “Together, Wherever We Go.” 

She’s got strong support from Danny Burstein, brilliant as Herbie, the manager who loves her, and provides the family with a temporary semblance of stability. And Joy Woods, so impressive in last season’s CSC revival of “I Can Get It For You Wholesale,” makes an ideal Gypsy, sweet and awkwardly self-effacing in the early scenes, luscious as the strip tease artist she becomes. 

The three strippers who instruct novice Gypsy with “You Gotta Get a Gimmick” are among the best, and the number, familiar as it may be, comes out freshly minted.  Lesli Margherita, Lili Thomas, and Mylinda Hull wring every ounce of humor out of the number as Tessie Tura, Mazeppa, and Electra. 

And Kevin Csolak is a sensational Tulsa, delivering one of the best versions of “All I Need is the Girl.” Camille A. Brown eschews the sacrosanct Jerome Robbins choreography for her own and her work in this number and throughout is terrific. 

Baby June (Jade Smith at my performance) was surely the most acrobatic within memory, and she morphs neatly into Jordan Tyson’s older June. Tyson’s “If Momma Was Married” duet with Woods is another highpoint. Elsewhere, though I felt both Junes were at times undercut by Wolfe’s exaggerated staging of their numbers.

Andy Einhorn leads his forces in a polished account of score, though I must confess I thought the famous overture was a tad short of pizzazz. On the other hand, audience members at my performance yakked all the way through it, so perhaps the blame lies there. 

Santo Loquasto’s set deftly handles all the scenes from Rose’s father’s Seattle house to the elaborate Minsky set piece of Gypsy’s strip. Toni-Leslie James’ costumes are spot on, and Mia Neal’s hair and wig design, Jules Fisher + Peggy Eisenthauer’s lighting, and Scott Lehrer’s sound are top of the line.

(Majestic Theatre, 245 W 44th Street; GypsyBway.com)

Photo by Julieta Cervantes: (l. - r.) Audra McDonald & Joy Woods