Theater Reviews

Susan Granger’s review of “Almost Famous” (Bernard B. Jacobs Theater – Broadway)

 

In 2000, Cameron Crowe drew on his own youthful experience to create “Almost Famous,” a coming-of-age dramedy about a rookie rock journalist writing articles for Rolling Stone in the early 1970s.

After its premiere in 2019 at San Diego’s Old Globe – a new version of “Almost Famous” just opened on Broadway. Crowe wrote the semi-autobiographical book about a fictitious Led Zeppelin-like band called Stillwater and shares lyrics credits with composer Tom Kitt (“Next to Normal”), who wrote the score.

Set in 1973, the show begins with “It’s over,” uttered by cynical Lester Bangs (Rob Colletti), referring to real rock ‘n’ roll, as he tries to discourage wide-eyed, nerdy 15 year-old William Miller (Casey Likes).

Nevertheless determined to interview members of Stillwater, William befriends them – a seductive temptation which inevitably becomes a problem when he tries to write the behind-the-scenes truth about them and their music.

Helping William get a backstage pass and passage on the tour bus is affable, empathetic Penny Lane (Solea Pfeiffer), leader of the “Band-Aids” (Julia Cassandra, Katie Ladner, Jana Djenne-Jackson). She’s hangs out with lead guitarist Russell Hammond (Chris Wood), when he’s not with his “ex-ex-wife.”

“We are not Groupies,” Penny insists. “Groupies sleep with rock stars because they want to be near someone famous. We’re here because of the music; we inspire the music. We’re Band-Aids.”

Meanwhile, back home, there’s William’s rebellious older sister (Emily Schulthesis) and his frustrated, uptight, widowed mother (Anika Larsen), who begs William to come home in time for graduation.

Too bad British director Jeremy Herrin and choreographer Sarah O’Gelby don’t put much that’s original – or even memorable on Derek McLane’s bland, bare-bones scaffolding except vintage, bohemian nostalgia – post-hippie, pre-disco – with credit for that going to resourceful costumer David Zinn.

The funniest line is spoken by the band’s ‘new’ manager (Jakeim Hart): “If you think Mick Jagger will still be out there trying to be a rock star at age 50, you are sadly, sadly mistaken.” Problem is: that and other pithy remarks are lifted straight from the film.

Bottom Line: Re-visit the movie, starring Patrick Fugit, Kate Hudson, Billy Crudup and Frances McDormand, or see it for the first time on Amazon, Vudu, iTunes or YouTube

Susan Granger’s review of “The Kite Runner” (Helen Hayes Theater – Broadway)

 

While Marc Forster’s 2007 film adaptation of Khaled Hosseini’s 2003 best-seller about the doomed friendship of two Afghan boys was not only faithful to the book, it also enhanced the narrative with resonant visuals.

Unfortunately, Matthew Spangler’s simplistic stage adaptation revolves around a lengthy monologue, augmented by a drummer and a series of melodramatic sketches, performed by an ensemble that juggles roles on Barney George’s minimal, modular stage. The unsatisfying result is rather disappointing.

Both the novel and the play begin with the narrator Amir intoning, “I became what I am today at the age of 12.”

In 1973 in Kabul, there were two young lads. Amir (Amir Arison) was a privileged boy whose widowed father, Baba (Faran Tehir), was a wealthy Pashtun merchant. Hassan (Erik Sirakian) was the son of Ali (Evan Zes), Baba’s faithful Hazan servant of 40 years.  Despite the inherent social stigma in an extremely class-conscious society, they seem as close as brothers.

Amir and Hassam are partners in Kabul’s intense kite-flying contest, which requires participants to use their kite strings to cut those of their rivals. Amir is the kite flyer, while Hassan serves as the kite runner. (The action-packed kite-flying scenes are simulated by actors manipulating small, white, birdlike kites in choreographed patterns).

Both boys are bullied by psychopathic Assef (Amir Malaklou), who rapes Hassan, while Amir does nothing.  Haunted by this childhood act of cowardice, Amir now reflects on and tries to atone for his failure to come to the aid of his best friend.

Meanwhile, Amir escaped from Afghanistan with Baba after the Soviet invasion, making a new life in San Francisco. Time passes. There’s the romance and marriage of Amir and Soroya (Azita Ghanizada), daughter of former General Tahiri (Houshang Touzie), and revelations about Hassan’s true parentage. That impels Amir to return to Afghanistan to adopt Hassan’s child and to chronicle his encounter with Assef, now a Taliban fighter.

“The Kite Runner” was first staged in 2007 at San Jose State University; its first professional production launched in 2009; since then, it’s been presented in multiple countries.

Directed by Giles Croft, this production is based on one in 2013 at the Nottingham Playhouse and at Wyndham’s Theater on the West End of London three years later. With a running time of 2½ hours with one intermission – it’s at Broadway’s Helen Hayes Theater through October 30.

 

 

 

Susan Granger’s review of “4000 Miles” (Westport Country Playhouse)

 

Social psychologists Merril Silverstein and Vern L. Bengston, among others, have studied the grandparent/grandchild relationship, a concept they call “intergenerational solidarity.”  Now, Amy Hertzog’s play “4000 Miles” at the Westport Country Playhouse explores the ramifications of that bond.

It’s three in the morning when exhausted 21 year-old Leo (Clay Singer) unexpectedly shows up at his 91 year-old Grandmother Vera’s (Mia Dillon) apartment in New York’s Greenwich Village.

Riding a bicycle, he’s journeyed from the West Coast. He didn’t start the trip with the intention of visiting Grandma; instead, his intention was reconnecting with his girlfriend Becca (Lea DiMarchi), but that didn’t go well. So there he is – ringing Grandma’s doorbell.

After putting in her teeth and finding hearing aid, Vera shuttles sweaty, smelly Leo into the shower, settling him into a guest bedroom. A series of subsequent scenes chronicles the reconnection between feisty Vera and befuddled Leo as they begin to understand one another.

Vera is a widow who’s worried about losing some of her mental faculties, often dwelling on memories of the past, including her two marriages and strained relationship with her daughter, Leo’s estranged mother, who lives in Minneapolis.

Deeply distressed Leo has his own demons. When his epic, cross-country trek started, he was with his best friend, but only one of them made it to New York. Leo’s trying to deal with that loss, along with the end of his romantic relationship with Becca.

Through sharing experiences, they forge a plausibly tender friendship:  “Another toke, Grandma?”

Sensitively directed by David Kennedy, the ensemble is superb. With subtle honesty, Mia Dillon delivers an intelligently crafted, authentically compelling performance, embodying a capable, opinionated woman grappling with the indignities of aging.

Oozing unaffected vulnerability, Clay Singer is charming and – in supporting roles – Lea DiMarchi is outspoken while Phoebe Holden is hilarious as Leo’s casual pickup. Kudos also to scenic designer Arnulfo Maldonado, costumer Maiko Matsuhima and lighting designer Carolina Ortiz Herrera.

Running one hour, 45 minutes without intermission, “4000 Miles” is insightful, thought-provoking and definitely worth seeing at the Westport Country Playhouse through Sunday, September 4^th.

 

Susan Granger’s review of “Kim’s Convenience” (Westport Country Playhouse)

 

What fun to hear laughter reverberating through the Westport Country Playhouse again!

The perceptive comedy “Kim’s Convenience” revolves around gruff Mr. Kim (David Shih) – a.k.a. Appa – an immigrant who, many years ago, opened a neighborhood grocery store in Toronto, Canada. He’s a Korean Archie Bunker, bragging how he can immediately spot a shoplifter while spewing exaggerated racism and stereotypical prejudices, particularly against the Japanese..

His totally assimilated, 30 year-old daughter, Janet (Cindy Im), is an aspiring photographer. Since she’s still single and living at home, her devoted mother – a.k.a. Umma (Chuja Seo) – is understandably concerned – at least until Alex (Eric R. Williams), a local policeman, shows up.

Then there’s Janet’s older brother, Jung (Hyunmin Rhee), the prodigal son who showed great scholastic potential but abruptly left home at age 16 after a horrific fight with Appa, who is adept at martial arts.

Now, Appa’s big worry concerns the future, his legacy. Who will run his beloved store when he no longer can? Since the neighborhood is gradually gentrifying, he’s received a generous offer to sell, but he’s determined not to.

Playwright Ins Choi and director Nelson T. Eusebio III adroitly explore the delicate generational balance between gratitude and ingratitude in a poignant relationship drama that’s, not surprisingly, filled with subtle conflict.

Led by patriarchal protagonist David Shih, the intricate cultural bond that binds the ensemble cast is palpable, even endearing. Kudos to set designer You-Shin Chen, costumer Lux Haac, lighting designer Marie Yokoyama with sound design by Twi McCullum.

If the plot – heartache leavened with humor and hope – sounds a bit like a sit-com/soap opera, it should – since Choi’s play, which made its debut at the 2011 Toronto Fringe Festival, subsequently spawned a Netflix show, also titled “Kim’s Convenience,” that has completed its fifth season.

FYI: Audience members must present proof of vaccination and wear a mask at all times while inside the Westport Country Playhouse. It’s just a shame that “Kim’s Convenience” plays such a short run, closing on Sunday, July 17. Catch it while you can.

Susan Granger’s review of “Straight White Men” (Westport Country Playhouse)

 

When arriving at the Westport Country Playhouse to see “Straight White Men,” you’re greeted by deafening hip-hop music, blasting loud enough to make you uncomfortable. That’s the intent of provocative playwright Young Jean Lee, the first Asian-American woman ever produced on Broadway.

Its purpose is gently explained by two, charming non-binary hosts (Akiko Akita, Ashton Muniz), referred to as “Persons in Charge,” who will dispense ear plugs on request.  Welcome to Experimental Theater!

The play – a naturalistic family comedic/drama – is set in the basement rec room of a middle-class home where the three grown sons of widower Ed (Richard Kline) gather for Christmas. Two enjoy successful careers.

Divorced Jake (Bill Army) is a ruthless banker who has two mixed-race children with his African-American ex-wife. Drew (Nick Westrate) is a successful professor/novelist who is firmly convinced that ‘therapy’ can solve most of life’s problems.

They’re all concerned about sensitive, socially-conscious Matt (Denver Milord), the oldest and once considered the most promising of the trio. Despite having graduated from Harvard, he’s working a temp job at a local social services agency, slowly paying off student loans and living at home with his father. Lamenting his “waste of talent,” to his family Matt is, basically, considered a loser.

After some reminiscences, they settle down to play Privilege Monopoly, a board-game variation designed by their late avowedly liberal mother to emphasize the expectations that come with their inherent advantages – before the rowdy siblings erupt into physical interplay, punching and pummeling one another.

Seamlessly directed by Mark Lamos, this is curiously challenging, somewhat ambiguous theater, and its somewhat frustrating, unresolved conclusion forces audiences to face prickly realities about the hypocrisy of entitlement in 21^st century America.

The acting ensemble displays compassionate chemistry together, enabled by Alison Solomon’s choreography and Michael Rossmy’s fight direction.

FYI: There are two major changes at the Playhouse this season. The main floor bathroom is now unisex; mezzanine bathrooms remain singular sex. And there are no bios/essays in the program; it’s simply a folded one-sheet that lists the cast and crew and heralds the next production.

Running 90 minutes without an intermission, “Straight White Men” will be performed at the Westport Country Playhouse through June 5.

Susan Granger’s review of “Funny Girl” (August Wilson Theatre on Broadway)

 

I knew Fanny Brice. My mother’s close friend was Fanny’s daughter Fran Stark whose husband Ray Stark produced “Funny Girl” with Barbra Streisand. When I met Fanny in the late 1940s, she was best known on radio as “Baby Snooks.”

After Fanny’s death in 1951, Ray Stark wanted to make a movie about his mother-in-law, commissioning several scripts including one by Isobel Lennart. But it wasn’t until Jule Style heard Barbra Streisand sing in a Greenwich Village nightclub that his Broadway musical concept with Bob Merrill came together.

From the beginning, “Funny Girl” was conceived as a star vehicle, written and directed to display then-21 year-old Streisand’s wistful appeal and spectacular ability to embody a song.

The story showcased Fanny in the Ziegfeld Follies because she didn’t look like other glamorous showgirls. Instead, she relied on Jewish humor and her sassy, comedic talent.  Fanny’s most famous songs were “Second Hand Rose” and “My Man,” both dropped from this revival.

Instead, Harvey Fierstein sharpened the dialogue and revised the second act to focus on the incompatibility and disintegrating marriage between Fanny and her charming con-man/gambler Nick Arnstein, epitomized by their “Who Are You Now” ballad. Aware of his wife’s sensitivity about her parents, Ray Stark previously glossed over Nick Arnstein’s duplicity.

Which brings me to 28 year-old Beanie Feldstein, most recently seen as Monica Lewinsky in TV’s “Impeachment: American Crime Story.” Ms. Feldstein is a deft character actress, often cast as quirky or eccentric – where her penchant for ‘making comic faces’ might perhaps be more appropriate. She has a sweet, if unremarkable, singing voice, best displayed as she pleads “Don’t Rain on My Parade.”

On the other hand, tenor Ramin Karimloo scores as suave Nicky Arnstein, particularly singing the title song “Funny Girl” and reprising “People.” As Fanny’s friend Eddie, Jared Grimes delivers terrific tap-dancing, choreographed by Ayodele Casel.  And Jane Lynch wrings wry laughter as Fanny’s mother.

Director Michael Meyer does the best he can with the cards he’s dealt, but David Zinn’s set, dominated by two staircases and a huge brick tower, is bizarre.

To go or not to go? That is the question. Ruefully, I’d recommend streaming the original 1968 movie on Amazon, Prime Video, Apple iTunes or Vudu.

 

Susan Granger’s review of “The Minutes” (Studio 54 on Broadway)

 

It’s a dark and stormy night in the small Midwestern town of Big Cherry when the weekly City Council meeting is called to order in Tracy Letts’ compelling, thought-provoking new play.

Having missed the previous meeting because of his mother’s death, the Council’s newest member, Mr. Peel (Noah Reed, best known for “Schitt’s Creek”), is curious why another member was unceremoniously removed.

No one will discuss the matter with him although several other topics are open to bantering, bickering and backstabbing – like building a handicapped-accessible fountain in the town square, the proper disposal of dozens of confiscated bicycles, and the proposal of a ‘Lincoln Smackdown’ in which a martial-artist dressed as Honest Abe would fight challengers in a steel-cage match.

“Democracy’s messy,” intones the avuncular Mayor Superba (playwright Tracy Letts).

Then, suddenly, somewhat inexplicably, several Council members, including the Mayor, stoic Clerk (Jessie Mueller) and quirky, scene-stealing Council veterans (Austin Pendleton & Blair Brown), spontaneously perform an absurdist re-enactment of the 1872 Battle at Mackie Creek at which, according to local legend, settlers battled bloodthirsty Sioux Indians.

Although this episode bears a remarkable resemblance to the 1956 Western “The Searchers,” perhaps Big Cherry  got the mythology of that tarnished ’origin story’ wrong – at least according to the daughter of Native American survivor who was interviewed by the recently banished Council member, Mr. Carp (Ian Barford), a potential whistleblower.

Given the impeccable ensemble casting and astute direction of Steppenwolf’s Anna D. Shapiro, this subversive, slyly satirical exploration of small-town bureaucracy slowly but surely explodes into somewhat surreal historical revisionism and collective guilt.

Best known for his Tony & Pulitzer Prize-winning “August: Osage County,” actor/playwright Tracy Letts’ anarchic, 90-minute allegory is inventive and incisive, skewering the Council’s self-serving incompetence and corruption, epitomized by the burying of antiquity in a manner not dissimilar to recent ‘critical race theory’ events in Texas and Florida – although this play debuted in Chicago back in 2017.

David Zinn’s detail-perfect set recreates mundane municipal chambers throughout the country and the sanctimonious mood is amplified with familiar patriotic marches and punctuated by Brian MacDevitt’s effective lighting.

“The Minutes” has a limited engagement at Studio 54 – 254 W. 54^th St. – through July 10.

Susan Granger’s review of “The Little Prince” (Broadway Theatre)

 

French aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s “The Little Prince” is a children’s classic. But if you’re thinking of buying tickets to the Broadway show, read on…

This simple fable relates the story of a child who travels the universe gaining wisdom.  His tale begins as a pilot (Aurelien Bednarek) crash-lands in the desert, where he encounters a young boy (spiky-haired Lionel Zalachas) who asks him to draw a sheep. Obliging, the narrator conjures up gymnastic dancers.

The androgynous narrator (Chris Mouron), who calls the lad ‘The Little Prince,’ learns that the boy comes from a very small asteroid with three tiny volcanos- and where he lovingly tended a single flower, a red rose (Laurisse Sulty).

Then The Little Prince began travelling to other planets. That’s where he encounters a king (Joan Bertrand), a vain man (Antony Cesar), drunkard (Marie Menuge), businessman (Adrien Picaut), lamplighter (Marcin Janiak) , and snake (Srilata Ray).

But it’s an astute fox (Dylan Barone), who passes on the most profound wisdom: “What is essential is invisible to the eye; it is only visible to the heart.”

These interludes are punctuated by aerial acrobatics, bathed in color and sound, in front of Marie Jumelin’s video designs, which lamely attempt to duplicate Saint-Exupery’s fanciful illustrations, projected on an upstage cyclorama.

Problem is: these vignettes are excruciatingly confusing and, ultimately, boring. Children were squirming in their seats as their equally perplexed parents tried to explain what was happening on-stage. Many, understandably, left at intermission.

After premiering in Paris in 2019, this musical has, apparently, toured extensively, including ‘sold out’ runs in Sydney and Dubai – leading one to wonder if, perhaps, some essential ingredient was lost en route.

Directed and choreographed by Anne Tournie, it’s adapted and co-directed by Chris Mouron with recorded music by Terry Truck. Peggy Housset designed the costumes, while the lighting is by Stephane Fritsch and sound by Tristan Viscogliosi.

Whatever this version of “The Little Prince” intended to be – it isn’t.  If you want to delight your children, find another family-friendly show or watch Stanley Donen’s 1974 musical with Richard Kiley, Bob Fosse and Gene Wilder or Mark Osborne’s 2015 animated version with Jeff Bridges and Rachel McAdams.

 

Susan Granger’s review of “Plaza Suite” (Hudson Theater on Broadway)

 

What surprised me most about this revival of Neil Simon’s “Plaza Suite” is how Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick have become cagey, funny and voraciously smart masters of physical comedy.

The secret to physical comedy goes far beyond slapstick pratfalls. It’s how an actor uses her/his body to sell something humorous to the audience. Facial expression and body language are core facets of communication, often delving into the psychological idea of ‘schadenfreude’ or why we derive secret pleasure from the troubles, failures or humiliation of others.

Set in the late 1960s, Neil Simon’s “Plaza Suite” is an old-fashioned, three-act comedy, focusing on a trio of couples who occupy the same suite 719 at Manhattan’s fabled Plaza Hotel.

A middle-aged couple who have grown apart celebrate their bittersweet 23^rd anniversary; celebrity culture is skewered as a star-struck suburban housewife reunites with her former high school sweetheart who has become a sleazy Hollywood producer; and, best of all, frustrated parents-of-the-bride coping with a wedding catastrophe.

“Plaza Suite” opened on Broadway 52 years ago with Maureen Stapleton and George C. Scott in the title roles; it ran for more than 1,000 performances. Yes, it’s dated, certainly before #MeToo – but parts of it are gleefully hilarious – and the belly laughs are still there.

Making his Broadway debut as director, John Benjamin Hickey takes full advantage of John Lee Beatty’s opulent, faux-French, mid-century set and Jane Greenwood’s gauche, era-appropriate costumes.  In supporting roles, Molly Ranson, Danny Bolero, Eric Wiegand and Cesar J. Rosado fill out the cast.

Off-stage, Sarah Jessica Parker (TV’s “Sex and the City,” “And Just Like That”) and Matthew Broderick (“The Producers”) have been married since 1997.

Already almost Sold Out until its engagement concludes at the end of June, “Plaza Suite” runs 2 hours, 40 minutes with a 15-minute intermission.

Susan Granger’s review of “Out of Time” (Public Theater-Martinson Theater/Off-Broadway)

 

Serving the recent quest for diversity and inclusion, “Out of Time,” a presentation of the National Asian American Theater Company (NAATCO), consists of five staged monologues reflecting how older Asian-Americans continue to feel unaccepted by the general public.

Playwright Anna Ouyang Moench’s “My Documentary” is a powerful beginning. Dressed in black, actress Paige Leong reveals: “I remember the last time I touched someone.” As her narrative evolves, she relates how her parents fled China in 1949, how she became a documentary filmmaker, how she met her husband and other turning points in her life.

She reflects on the pleasure she derives in knitting: “I make one sweater every three years. I don’t make them for other people. I don’t do homemade gifts. Nobody wants your handmade gift. They say they do. They think they do. But, in reality, you pour your spare hours into this beautiful collection of tiny knots…(only to discover) your daughter-in-law wants to look like that model she saw in the Gap ad.”

Mia Chung’s somewhat confusing “Ball in the Air,” performed by NAATCO co-founder Mia Katigbak, who enters playing with a paddleball, reflects on betrayal and crumbling relationships.

Then there’s Jaclyn Backhaus’ “Black Market Caviar,” performed by actress Rita Wolf, that delves into eggs and her family’s genetic predisposition for cancer: “Don’t succumb to the fear.”

Following the intermission, there’s Naomi Iizuka’s “Japanese Folk Song,” a ghost story performed by Glenn Kubota, who introduces himself as Taki but then admits he’s only an imitation – like zirconium, or margarine, or pleather. Nevertheless, he’s an admirable raconteur, confessing to hating jazz but loving good whiskey and a good cigar.

Then there’s Sam Chanse’s “Disturbance Specialist” with Natsuko Ohama as a once-popular but now ‘problematic’ novelist delivering a speech at her alma mater. She refers to those who endured painful setbacks – like the Pinatubo volcanic mouse, the only species that survived the aftermath of a volcanic eruption at Mount Pinatubo. Scientists dub this animal a ‘disturbance specialist.”

Conceived and directed by Les Waters, it’s a moving, yet uneven, emotional experience revolving around global anxiety. Kudos to scenic designer dots, costumer Mariko Ohigashi, lighting by Rza Behjat, and sound by Fabian Obispo.

“Out of Time” is performed through March 13 at the Martinson Theater, part of The Public Theater, 425 Lafayette Street at Astor Place.