Theater Reviews

Susan Granger’s review of “Pippin” (Summer Theatre of New Canaan)

Unlike many Broadway pop musicals, “Pippin” has always seemed like a work-in-progress, open to many different interpretations, perhaps increasing in relevance as the years pass by.
Originally conceived with a book by Roger O. Hirson and music/lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, it’s been re-imagined by co-directors Allegra and Christian Libonati for their parents’ (Artistic Director Melody and Producer Ed Libonati) newly redesigned/relocated Summer Theatre of New Canaan.
As related by a mystical group of traveling actors/dancers, the (fictional) coming-of-age story revolves around Pippin, son of Charlemagne, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire during the 7th Century. After his formal education, Pippin returns home, realizing he has no idea how to spend the rest of his life or, as he puts it, “searching for his corner of the sky.”
In a role originated by Ben Vereen, the Leading Player (Melissa Victor) introduces the absurdist concept with “Magic to Do,” alluding the seductive journey of theatrical storytelling.
Under her guidance, Pippin (Zach Schanne) reunites with his strong ‘n’ stupid step-brother (Omen Sade), scheming step-mother (Jodi Stevens) and self-absorbed father (Frank Mastrone), as he learns truths about war, religion and complicated sexual diversity.
Eventually, Pippin begins to appreciate what life really means, having met a caring widow (Ella Raymont) and her child (Julia Desai/Josh Rosenberry), following the advice of his wise grandmother ((Janelle Robinson), who introduces the catchy “No Time at All” sing-along:
“Oh, it’s time to start livin’
Time to take a little from this world we’re givin’
Time to take time, ‘cause spring will turn to fall
In just no time at all.”
Courtesy of Orli Nativ, each character’s costume/make-up is based on the deck of Tarot cards that’s placed on each audience member’s chair, and the Labyrinth painted on the floor of the stage becomes an integral part of the summer’s most enchanting fable.
Blessed by an excellent ensemble cast, this production delivers fun ‘n’ frolic for a summer’s evening.
“Pippin” plays Thursday through Sunday until July 28 in the big, white tent at 56 South Street, behind the Library in New Canaan. For tickets, call Summer Theatre of New Canaan at 203-966-4634.

Susan Granger’s review of “Spinning” (Long Wharf Theater, Stage II)

 

Mary Ann Frank’s “Spinning” is a remarkably unconventional amalgam of cabaret/theater – moving and memorable storytelling and song, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Mary Ann Frank is not only a respected clinical psychologist in New Haven but also an accomplished singer, actress and story-teller. She lost her neuroscientist husband of 28 years after a 14-month battle with brain cancer. And she brings tremendous intelligence and feeling to the concept of a doctor becoming a patient.

But this is NOT a pity-party. Instead, imaginatively directed by Douglas Moser with a strong theatrical pace, it’s wildly funny and genuinely uplifting – aching and hilarious – based on harrowing situations that many middle-aged women – and men – encounter.

The title comes from Frank’s empathetic concept of time – past, present and future – spinning together, set to James F. Hanley’s poignant “Zing! Went the Strings of My Heart,” popularized by Judy Garland.

Among the other pop songs interwoven with the bittersweet story, there’s “Just Breathe” and the traditional American spiritual “Poor Man Lazarus”…a.k.a. “Dip Your Finger in the Water (And Cool My Thumb).”

The narrative includes a trip to Zion National Park, where Mary Ann Frank and her two grown children – twins Lucas and Lily – led by an intrepid guide – make a harrowing descent into a canyon called The Huntress, intending make sense of their loss and to spread her late husband’s ashes.

Andrew Levine handles the musical direction with a sure sense of fluidity, playing piano with Andrew Spalding on bass. The astute production and evocative lighting design is by Andrew Rubenoff with choreography by Ginger Thatcher, sound by Hunter Spoede and costumes by Marie Anne Chiment.

“Spinning” is playing in a limited run at Long Wharf’s Stage II – for now. I suspect it will re-open elsewhere soon, perhaps Off-Broadway.

 

               

Susan Granger’s review of “Skeleton Crew” (Westport Country Playhouse)

 

As the completion of her “Detroit Project” trilogy, playwright Dominique Morisseau chronicles the final days of a quartet of hard-working employees at a Detroit auto-stamping factory that is rumored to be about to close.

After spending 29 years on the assembly line and eagerly anticipating her pension, Faye (Perri Gaffney) sits at a table in scenic designer Caite Hevner’s realistically detailed break room. She’s the union leader of UAW 167, so she feels entitled to ignore the prominently posted NO SMOKING signs.

Once again chiding her about breaking company rules, the plant foreman Reggie (Sean Nelson), who happens to be the son of Faye’s longtime friend, confides that management has decided to shut down the premises, making her promise not to tell her co-workers they’re going to be laid off.

Enter ambitious Dez (Leland Fowler), who reveals that he’s planning to open his own repair shop. And Shanita (Toni Martin), a very pregnant single mom who relishes what she perceives as her job security: “I love the way the line needs me. You step away, the whole operation shuts down.” Indeed, Shanita confesses that she’s already passed on a job offer she received at a local print store.

And it turns out that Faye, a resilient breast-cancer survivor, is now homeless, living out of her car, sleeping in the break room on cold wintry nights.

But then a series of robberies hits the plant. Suspicion falls on Dez, who is not only hiding a gun but a mysteriously wrapped pouch in his locker.

Dominique Morisseau, who won the 2018 MacArthur “Genius Grant” Fellowship, creates vibrant characters who speak like middle-class African-Americans and, sometimes, their dialect is difficult to decipher. But their tenuous dilemma, set at the height of the economic recession of 2008, is all-too-real. They’re striving for the American dream which now seems out-of-reach.

Director LA Williams has assembled an astute cast of skilled actors who embody their respective frustrations, eliciting compassion in this depressing, albeit authentic social commentary.

Playing in Westport through June 22, tickets are available by calling 203-227-4177 or online at westportplayhouse.org

Susan Granger’s review of “Luzia” (Cirque du Soliel at Citi Field)

 

It must be springtime because Canada’s celebrated Cirque du Soliel has returned to Citi Field with a dazzling new production, “Luzia: A Waking Dream of Mexico,” a veritable fiesta of fantasy.

After entering the Grand Chapiteau, audiences are greeted by the traditional clown traveler (Fool Koller), who parachutes down into a field of marigolds, where he discovers a gigantic key, as a graceful monarch butterfly guides him through different facets of Mexico’s rich culture and traditions.

“Luzia” combines the sound of ‘luz’ (Spanish for ‘light’) with ‘illuvia’ (Spanish for ‘rain’). Technically, it’s amazing, from the immense waterfall that shimmers with images of birds, fish, and flowers, seemingly drenching performers/gymnasts engaged in impressive athletic feats.

Early on, there are two giant treadmills as a running woman-dressed-as-a-butterfly (Shelli Epstein) flits from one to another, followed by a troupe of hoop divers, clad as hummingbirds. Then there’s a tribute to Mexico’s obsession with soccer with Abou Traore and Laura Biondo manipulating a ball.

Cyr wheel performers Rosa Tyyska and Nora Zoller spin through a curtain of rain, while Enya White gracefully twirls above them on a trapeze.

Aerial strap acrobat Stephen Brine twists and turns over a pool of water, representing a sinkhole or cenote; Cylios Pytak dazzles with his juggling act; and Aleksei Goloborodko is an awesome contortionist.

Written and directed by Daniele Finzi Pasca, who co-authored the concept with his late wife Julie Hamelin Finzi, the performance, staged on dual turntables, features 44 artists from 15 countries with live music, elegant set design, sumptuous costumes, and inventive puppetry, including a galloping metallic horse, a hulking cougar, a slithering snake, a lurking cockroach and a wary armadillo.

“Luzia” will remain at Citi Field until Sunday, June 9^th. Tickets start at $54 and can be up-graded to $275.  And it’s wise to purchase the full-color program that identifies the performers and explains the inspiration behind each act.

Susan Granger’s review of “Tootsie” (Marquis Theatre)

 

I had my doubts about anyone filling Dustin Hoffman’s heels as struggling actor Michael Dorsey-turned-Dorothy Michaels but I was wrong. Santino Fontana is sensational in the deceptive dual-rule.

Working from a satirically playful script by Robert Horn, set to David Yazbek’s jazzy score, director Scott Ellis has cleverly re-imagined Larry Gelbart and Murray Shisgal’s subversive 1982 screenplay, updating its farcical concept with razor-sharp timing, energetic pacing and smartass feminist dynamics.

In this version, narcissistic, self-defeating Michael Dorsey (Santino Fontana) is persona-non-grata in New York theater. So when his neurotic, co-dependent ex Sandy (Sarah Stiles) mentions that the Nurse role in an absurd Shakespearean musical called “Juliet’s Curse” has suddenly become available, Michael goes to the audition in drag, introducing himself as Dorothy Michaels.

Persuasive Dorothy not only lands the part but also wins the respect/admiration of millionaire producer Rita Marshall (Julie Halston) and the heart of hunky Max Van Horn (John Behlmann), a sublimely stupid reality-TV “Bachelor” star who plays Romeo’s brother Craig.

Michael’s only friend/confidante is his wannabe playwright roommate Jeff (Andy Grotelueschen), who tartly questions his judgment: “At a time when women are literally clutching their power back from between the legs of men, you have the audacity to take a job away from one by perpetrating one?”

Dealing with egocentric director/choreographer Ron Carlisle (Ron Rogers), who loathes troublesome, outspoken Michael Dorsey, is another matter. And further complications arise when Dorothy/Michael is romantically attracted to unsuspecting Julie Nichols (Lilli Cooper), who plays Juliet.

To prepare for playing two entirely different characters, Santana Fontana, whose biggest previous role was the Prince in “Rogers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella,” had his chest and legs waxed, along with adjusting to Spanx, pantyhose, kitten heels and mastering a flawless falsetto.

Fontana’s meticulous transformation is miraculous, making dowdy Dorothy “assertive, but not bitchy, compassionate, but not emotional.”

All the supporting players are superb: hilarious Sarah Stiles, droll Andy Grotelueschen, irascible Ron Rogers, genial Julie Halston, funny John Behlmann, lilting Lilli Cooper, and acerbic Michael McGrath as Michael’s exasperated agent.

Credit David Rockwell for effective scenic design, Donald Holder for supportive lighting, Denis Jones for choreography, William Ivey Long for costumes and Paul Huntley for hair and wigs.

Treat yourself – “Tootsie” has an open-ended run at Broadway’s Marquis Theater.

 

 

 

 

Susan Granger’s review of “Ink” (Manhattan Theatre Club at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre)

 

Mills College: Journalism 101 – in our first class, Pierre Salinger (night editor of the “San Francisco Chronicle” before he became JFK’s Press Secretary) taught us the five essential questions: Who? What? When? Where? Why?

That same lesson begins James Graham’s irreverent, Olivier Award-winning play which delves into the defining historical moment in 1969, when the British media underwent a bold, brassy populist revolution.

“’Why?’ isn’t worth asking,” insists ambitious, adrenalized Australian entrepreneur Rupert Murdoch (Bertie Carvel). “It’s ‘What’s next?’”

After buying the U.K.’s “Daily Sun,” Murdoch hires Larry Lamb (Jonny Lee Miller) as its editor. Reminding him that he’s the “son of a Yorkshire blacksmith,” brusque Murdoch cleverly plays on Lamb’s inherent class resentment, since he was repeatedly passed over for the top job at “The Mirror,” a rival tabloid.

Within in year, Murdoch’s failing Fleet Street broadsheet (full-sized newspaper) becomes a best-selling, testosterone-driven tabloid. When ethical questions inevitably arise, pandering to the populace’s baser instincts always wins over quality reporting.  

Emphasizing sex, television and celebrity gossip, the “Sun” became synonymous with fun. But Lamb is warned by a member of Fleet Street’s Old Guard: “Pander to and promote the most base instincts of people all you like…create an appetite, but I warn you. You’ll have to keep feeding it.”

As fastidious, yet ferociously fanatic Murdoch, Bertie Carvel is almost reptilian in his diabolical avariciousness, easily manipulating Jonny Lee Miller as intrepid, inspired Larry Lamb, telling him: “Get the readers to become the storytellers…Isn’t that the real point of the revolution? When they’re producing their own content themselves?”

Director Rupert Goold, who helmed London’s West End production, conjures the pre-digital, pre-Internet, pre-PC Fleet Street world, adroitly mixing in music and dance, aided and abetted by choreographer Lynne Page, with production design/projections by Jon Driscoll, lighting by Neil Austin, sets & costumes by Bunny Christie, music & sound by Adam Cork.

“Ink” concludes with Murdoch heading to New York, determined to make TV news more populist, claiming, “Countries reinvent themselves all the time.” Onto Trump and Brexit.

During my lifetime, American journalism has changed radically, and this current season of plays, including “Network” and “Lifespan of a Fact,” reflects that. So – what’s next?

Susan Granger’s review of “Hillary and Clinton” (Golden Theater)

 

Blending fact with fiction, Lucas Hnath’s barbed comedy imagines what might have happened in a parallel universe on an alternate Earth, where a woman named Hillary was in the midst of a hard-fought Democratic primary race in New Hampshire in January, 2008.

Striding on-stage, Hillary (Laurie Metcalf) grasps a microphone stand, only to discover the microphone is missing. Undaunted, she retrieves one from the wings but it’s obvious from the get-go that she’s having a tough time getting her message across.

When her pollster/campaign manager Mark (Zak Orth) informs her that, after the Iowa caucuses, she’s trailing in the polls and they’re quickly running out of money, he begs Hillary not to call her husband Bill, a former POTUS. Of course, she does.

When Bill arrives, verbal fireworks ignite.  Hillary knows how much Bill has been banking for speeches and public appearances, and she wants him to transfer funds into her campaign coffers. He’s not exactly opposed to that – but he’s also determined to stump for her.

“You’re missing an opportunity to take the thing I do well and use it to your advantage,” he says. “When I ran, I won.”

With Bill’s help and her own rare show of emotion at a luncheon, Hillary manages to win New Hampshire. But her victory is short-lived. Soon Barack (Peter Francis James) arrives with an offer to make her his vice-president, but she quickly suggests the reversal, which does not sit well with her opponent.

Lucas Hnath, who wrote the Ibsen sequel “A Doll’s House, Part 2,” for which Laurie Metcalf won a 2017 Tony Award, writes incisive, provocative dialogue, filled with fluid subtext. Hillary calls Bill “a stench she can’t shake,” and Bill bemoans that Barack’s meteoric rise makes him feel “erased, like I never existed.”

Monica Lewinsky’s name is never spoken, although Hillary alludes to how she staunchly stood by the philandering husband who publicly humiliated her,

Directed by Joe Mantello, both Metcalf and Lithgow are at the top of their game here.  She’s steely, straight-forward and steadfast in her ambition. He’s understated except when it comes to his intuitive ability to seduce voters. Chloe Lamford’s box set is bland and sparse, while the costumes by Rita Ryack are deliberately nondescript.

“Hillary and Clinton,” which runs 90 minutes, is performed without an intermission. If you leave your seat during the performance, you are not permitted to return.

 

 

Susan Granger’s review of “Smart Blonde” (59E39 Theaters)

 

My father (S. Sylvan Simon) produced Judy Holliday’s Oscar-winning film “Born Yesterday,” (1950), so I’ve always been intrigued by her unique talent. Unfortunately, Willy Holtzman’s biographical play about this extraordinary actress is too fragmented and episodic.

Judy Holliday originated the role of Billie Dawn onstage, and her competition for the Best Actress Oscar that year included Gloria Swanson in “Sunset Boulevard,” along with Anne Baxter and Bette Davis in “All About Eve.”

But that’s jumping ahead in her story, which somehow parallels that of another young Jewish girl, Fanny Brice, as in “Funny Girl.”

Playwright Willy Holtzman sets his play in 1964 – a year before Judy Holliday (Andrea Burns) succumbed to breast cancer at age 42 – when she was recording an unnamed album (perhaps “Holliday with Mulligan”) with her then-boyfriend, jazz saxophonist Gerry Mulligan (Mark Lotito). Flashbacks abound.

Born Judith Tuvim in New York City, Judy started in cabaret, forming a troupe, the Reveurs, playing at the Village Vanguard with Betty Comden and Adolph Green, accompanied by Leonard Bernstein on the piano.

Known for her genius IQ, Judy cleverly created a “dumb blonde” persona, deliberately fashioning that chirping voice, “Higher is funnier,” Holliday notes. “I do it for comic effect.”

Along the way, she developed close friendships with notable show business cohorts including Garson Kanin & Ruth Gordon (authors of “Born Yesterday”) and Marilyn Monroe.

Seven years after her “Born Yesterday” triumph, Judy won a Tony for the musical “The Bells Are Ringing,” besting Julie Andrews in “My Fair Lady” and Ethel Merman in “Happy Hunting.”

Judy Holliday was married to musician/recording executive David Oppenheim (Mark Lotito), with whom she had a son, and, apparently, she had a lesbian liaison with her best friend Yetta Cohn (Andrea Bianchi). Perhaps Judy’s most harrowing ‘performance’ was in 1952 before Sen. Joe McCarthy’s House Un-American Activities Committee, where she refused to name names.

That’s a great deal of territory to cover in 90 minutes, particularly since Holtzman punctuates the narrative with 10 musical numbers, including songs co-written by Holliday and Mulligan, like “What’s the Rush” and “It Must Be Christmas.”`

While Andrea Burns is utterly charming, even endearing, in her mimicry, director Peter Flynn struggles with the book’s lack of connective tissue, utilizing Tony Ferrieri’s realistic set and Alan Edward’s lighting.

Apparently, Willy Holtzman is currently developing this memory play into a film.

 

 

 

 

Susan Granger’s review of “To Kill A Mockingbird” (Shubert Theater on Broadway)

 

While Aaron Sorkin adaptation is basically faithful to Harper Lee’s beloved 1960 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, delving into race, justice, bigotry, compassion and forgiveness, it’s a subtly revisionist version.

In the prologue, the youngsters Scout (Celia Keenan-Bolger), her older brother Jem (Will Pullen) and their friend Dill (Gideon Glick) are in what appears to be a barren, old, dilapidated building, wondering about what really happened on the night Bob Ewell (Frederick Weller) died. Did he really fall on his own knife? To persistent, often petulant Scout, something doesn’t add up.

Suddenly, Miriam Beuther’s stylized set design evolves into a 1934 Maycomb, Alabama, courtroom, complete with an elevated judge’s bench, jury box, and witness stand with adjacent spectator seats.

At the defense table is Tom Robinson (Gbenga Akinnagbe), a black laborer who has been falsely accused of beating and raping 19 year-old Mayella Ewell (Erin Wilhelmi). At his side (with his back to the audience) sits his defense lawyer Atticus Finch (Jeff Daniels), known as the most honest man in town.

Atticus firmly believes you can’t really know someone unless you climb into someone’s skin and inhabit it. He firmly believes in the fundamental goodness in everyone, even hate-filled Ku Klux Klan members. There are good people on both sides, he insists, echoing Donald Trump’s remark.

Atticus excuses Bob Ewell’s virulent racism by saying he recently lost his job and explains a cantankerous neighbor’s prejudice because she’s sick and stopped taking her morphine. During the course of the play, Atticus’s beliefs in the nature of decency are sorely challenged.

Working with director Bartlett Sher (“South Pacific,” “My Fair Lady”), Aaron Sorkin (“The Social Network,” “Moneyball,” “West Wing, “The Newsroom”) not only makes the timely connection between Jim Crowe Maycomb and contemporary Charlottesville but he also amplifies the role of Finch’s outspoken Africa-American maid, Calpurnia (LaTanya Richardson Jackson).

In addition, Sorkin injects Dill’s oddball best-friend character with Truman Capote’s unmistakable characteristics, including memories of being locked in his room while his mother went husband-hunting.

How does the play compare with the iconic 1962 movie, starring Gregory Peck? The most jarring change is casting adults as children; Celia Keenan-Bolger is 41. Although the actors are talented, I found the loss of childhood innocence very disconcerting.

“To Kill A Mockingbird” runs 2 hours and 35 minutes with one intermission, and if you leave your seat for any reason during the performance, you are not allowed to return.

 

 

Susan Granger’s review of “Network” (Belasco Theatre)

 

Uncannily prescient Paddy Chayefsky wrote the screenplay for Sidney Lumet’s Oscar-winning film back in 1976, depicting an angry, frustrated TV news anchorman who urged viewers to open their windows, stick their heads out and scream, “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

Now – 42 years later – that sentiment is just as timely and relevant – if not more so.

Bryan Cranston (“Breaking Bad”) plays Howard Beale, the veteran broadcaster with Tony Goldwyn (“Scandal”) as his best friend, Max Schumacher, president of the network news division, and Tatiana Maslany (“Orphan Black”) as Diana Christensen, a relentlessly ambitious programming executive. (Peter Finch, William Holden and Faye Dunaway played these respective roles in the movie)

When burnt-out, depressed Beale threatens to blow his brains out on live television, he becomes a populist sensation; his audience grows exponentially bigger the more obviously deranged he becomes.

Thematically, it revolves around the increasing corporatization of news media, algorithmic newsfeeds, and the gradual degradation of truth that has resulted in the proliferations of “fake news.”

Faithfully adapted by Lee Hall (“Billy Elliot”) and meticulously directed by Ivo van Hove (Broadway revivals of “A View From the Bridge,” “The Crucible”) with a highly creative production team, it’s a multi-media presentation with several hand-held cameras simultaneously tracking what’s happening on-stage, projected into a gigantic screen that dominates the set.

“As a teenager when I first saw ‘Network’ on the screen, I thought it was science-fiction. That science-fiction has not become our reality,” notes Ivo van Hove. “All its relationships are scarred. It’s a tragedy about the loss of values.”

“I was in college when it came out, and it was impactful, brazen – shocking in many cases,” adds Bryan Cranston, who is mesmerizing as Beale. “I grew up with Harry Reasoner and Walter Cronkite, people that seemed very authoritative. It never occurred to me that they were packaging information….These days, if you’re not skeptical, you’re naïve. If you believe everything you see on CNN or Fox or MSNBC, you’re gullible. Because the news is a news-entertainment product.”

FYI prescient playwright Paddy Chayefsky died in 1981, long before his ominous predictions came true.