Tag: Theater

Prize Jury.

Neglected to mention this earlier…but last week, I caught Roundabout’s Twelve Angry Men revival at the American Airlines theatre. As with Streetcar, my basis for comparison is fuzzy — I saw the Henry Fonda film years and years ago. Nevertheless, I’d say this version does justice to the material, and is well worth seeing if you get the chance.

Unlike the star-studded HBO version, this 12 Angry Men works as a great showcase for underappreciated character actors. The most famous face is probably the ubiquitous James Rebhorn as Juror #4, although #7’s John Pankow (a.k.a. Paul Reiser’s brother on Mad About You) and Broadway veteran Tom Aldredge (Clooney’s boss in Intolerable Cruelty) as #9 may also elicit a stir of recognition. To a man, this cast performs admirably, with each actor getting his moment in the sun.

Alas, if the show has a weak link, it may well be Boyd Gaines as Juror #8 (the Fonda role.) In a way, it’s not Gaines’ fault – but the fact that he looks like a cross between Fonda and Jimmy Stewart invites comparisons that redound against him, particularly as it seems at times that he’s actually doing a Fonda impression. [Robert Foxworth (formerly of Falcon Crest), does better in the less-iconic Lee J. Cobb role (#3) — if anything, he reminded me of Darren McGavin.] Still, this is a quibble. In general, 12 Angry Men is an engaging night out (and good mental prep for my own jury duty in a few weeks.)

By the way, I’m on the Roundabout Theatre mailing list, but if any readers out there know the mailer discount codes for The Glass Menagerie, Hurlyburly, Glengarry Glen Ross, and/or particularly Denzel’s Julius Caesar, the information would be much appreciated. 🙂

Stella!

Last night, my sister and I went to go see the most recent revival of A Streetcar Named Desire, with Natasha Richardson as Blanche and John C. Reilly as Stanley. And, while I don’t claim to be an expert by any means — At the risk of looking like a rube, I’ll admit I went in with only vague impressions of the Brando-Leigh version, which I found had been interpolated, embarrassingly enough, with Cat on a Hot Tin Roof — I quite enjoyed it.

At turns willowy and brittle, Richardson’s Blanche DuBois has, as Michael Stipe once put it, that “knowing with a wink that we expect from Southern women.” A pampered schemer whose delicate flower act obscures the grim realizations borne of an all-too-tragic life, Blanche is a fading memory of the Old South — She seems lost without a mint julep in hand and completely out-of-place in rough-and-tumble post-war New Orleans. I expect Richardson’s take on the role is probably slightly less sympathetic than in some other versions — no one deserves Blanche’s horrible fate; nevertheless, Richardson’s DuBois, so insufferable at times in the early going, does an exemplary job in Act 1 of proving Benjamin Franklin’s adage that “fish and visitors stink after three days.”

For his part, John C. Reilly is also memorable as the vindictive, animalistic Stanley (although nobody would argue, except perhaps Stanley himself, that this iteration of Kowalski has any of Brando’s physical magnetism.) Reilly’s Stanley is a hard-living working-class schlub who becomes increasingly more dangerous as the “Every Man a King” prerogatives he expects of domestic life are affronted by Blanche’s continued presence. Most of the time, he sits coiled like a snake, bottle in hand…but, when the moment strikes, Reilly lashes out with a feral fury that’s all the more frightening for being unexpected (he’s definitely not the type of guy you want in your poker game.) And, when Stanley finally gains the upper hand on his unwanted houseguest, his predatory instincts take hold in brutal and remorseless fashion.

At any rate, a good show. I can’t compare it to earlier iterations of Tennessee Williams’ play, but I can say that Richardson, Reilly, and the rest of the cast at the very least do Streetcar justice.

Et Tu, Denzel?


“This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms, Quite vanquished him: then burst his mighty heart.” Denzel Washington’s Broadway turn as Brutus open to solid reviews. Between this Julius Caesar revival and Twelve Angry Men and Hurlyburly and the Richardson-Reilly Streetcar, among others, there are a lot of plays in town right now I wouldn’t mind catching at some point.

Keep the trains! My Kingdom for a Horse!

“Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven.” It appears that, while Ian McKellen has been traipsing about Middle Earth, a hobbit-sized thespian has captured one of his signature roles: The Station Agent‘s Peter Dinklage talks about his forthcoming Richard III at the Public Theater. I’d very much like to check this out.

Sympathy for the Devils.

The mystery of the grassy knoll has finally been solved, and the second shooter was…John Wilkes Booth?! For the first time in an age, I took advantage of the New York theater scene last night and caught the much-heralded revival of Stephen Sondheim’s Assassins at the Roundabout Theatre, which chronicles the inner demons of Mssrs. Booth, Oswald, Hinckley, and assorted other murderers and would-be-murderers of presidents. All in all, I’d say I enjoyed it, although it took a musical number or two for me to warm to the material (some never made the leap — the guy next to me left outraged.) And there’s some memorable performances here, particularly Denis O’Hare as Charles Guiteau (Garfield’s assassin) and Michael Cerveris as Booth.

Still, the basic (and ahistorical) message of the play — that all assassins, whatever their surface motives, are just looking for a little happiness, a little love, and a little fame — was encapsulated much more succinctly by Peter Gabriel’s excellent “Family Snapshot” two decades ago. And, while I like that song and admire what this play was trying to be, this “everybody needs a hug” thesis is too reductively simplistic. Notwithstanding freak shows like Hinckley, assassination is by its very definition a political act, as is distressingly obvious to all of us given recent events in the Middle East. Sure, a lot of assassins are flat-out crazies…Hinckley, Mark David Chapman, Sirhan Sirhan. But others — Booth, Guiteau, Leon “McKinley” Czolgosz, James Earl Ray, Brutus — had a political agenda in mind that can’t be explained solely by “bad reviews” or a lack of affection as a child (which is perhaps why the Sondheim play ignores the Stalwart v. Halfbreed internecine strife propelling Guiteau to his foul deed.)

Still, if you can stomach the subject matter, Assassins is a moderately engaging fever dream rumination on American loneliness and presidential murder, replete with a sinister carnival barker and Moebius strip leaps in and out of historic continuity. Perhaps the most resonant effect in the play is that of the other assassins — eerie, floating, voiceless heads underlit to resemble Capt. Howdy in The Exorcist — watching their colleagues from the mists of History, or from the grave. Misery loves company, and from Cassius on, assassins just adore a conspiracy.

The signs of war advance.

No king of England if not of France. Alas, the NY Times didn’t think much of Henry V in the park. I caught it a few weeks ago and enjoyed it better than this reviewer, for sure. Given recent events, I do wish they’d turned up the satire a notch (“We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,” as the posters proclaim) and Bronson Pinchot’s Balki-esque schtick as Pistol seemed wildly out of place. But all in all, I thought the show made for a lively summer evening. And as a fan of the McKellen Richard III, I enjoyed the WWI motif Liev Schreiber & co. were aiming for.

Gollum sings the blues.

Oh what to do? I am sad and blue. If only that I knew, that he would take The Precious! He had better flee, for I am thin and mean, and my eyes have seen, that he did take The Precious! Because the world demanded it (or somebody did, I guess), 2005 will witness the opening of the Lord of the Rings stage musicial in London (flash-heavy official site here.) Oh my, this sounds grisly. Will Troy McClure be in it?