Category Archives: NYC Theater Reviews
Plays
‘Ava: The Secret Conversations’ is Enthralling
What happens to beautiful women after Hollywood chews them up and spits them out? Ava Gardner, who the studio labeled in a promotion for The Barefoot Contessa (1954) as “The World’s Most Beautiful Animal,” worked in the industry and mostly on TV until her stroke in her 60s. After her illness, she clawed her way back into functioning health to sit for a series of interviews with author Peter Evans who she asked to ghostwrite her autobiography. In Ava: The Secret Conversations, Downtown Abbey star Elizabeth McGovern channels Ava Gardner at New York City Center until September 14th. Her riveting performance mesmerizes with an equivalent assist from Aaron Costa Ganis as Peter Evans and Ava’s husbands.
The play, written by Elizabeth McGovern, reveals known facts about Gardner. However, for those who haven’t read Peter Evans’ titular book on which McGovern bases her writing, the work includes many surprising details.
When Gardner met with Evans at her apartment in London, both had achieved success in their careers. An iconic actress during the Golden Age of Hollywood, Gardner lived her life to the fullest with marriages to Mickey Rooney, band leader Arti Shaw and Frank Sinatra. Additionally, her relationships with many men alluded to in the play indicate she enjoyed her femininity and sexuality. Journalist Evans, who had been recommended to her by a friend wrote biographies of Peter Sellers and Aristotle Onassis to name a few. Together, they brought excitement, experience and expertise to the project which Gardner initiated.
Essentially a two-hander, Ava: The Secret Conversations displays the Gardner/Evans relationship, conflicts about how Ava Gardner wanted to present her legacy, and the split that caused the shuttering of their project. The production features film clips of her husbands integrated throughout, thanks to Alex Basco Koch’s projection design, Cricket S. Meyrs sound design and Amith Chandrashaker’s lighting design.
David Meyer’s scenic design and Amith Chandrashaker’s lighting design present Ava’s lush apartment, and minimal sets and spots to reference Peter Evans’ writing study and other scenarios.The technical elements serve Moritz Von Stuelpnagel’s vision of the push and pull of Gardner and Evans who were dependent upon one another for a hoped for profitable outcome which never happened.
Instead, Gardner wrote her own autobiography published shortly after her death in 1990. From the interviews that Evans cobbled together, he wrote Ava: The Secret Conversations published in 2013 after his death. Neither were alive to see their work’s success.
Thematically, as we watch these individuals whose attitudes and values collide, we recognize their interactions happened in a more gracious, decent world than today’s current media circus.
At the top of the play in the prologue, McGovern’s Gardner ominously calls Evans in the middle of the night and tantalizes him like a siren. She mentions she’s thought about assisted suicide, using the organization “Exit.” Then, the scene switches and Ganis’ Evans faces the audience. As he talks to his agent Ed Victor (Chris Thorn’s voice throughout), he questions where to begin the “play?” In a surreal moment we realize the characters discuss “the play” as a framing device. What follows becomes a series of layers which unfold to a core of intimate moments shared between these two individuals remarkable in their own right.
During the uninterrupted span of ninety minutes we watch how Evans engages his subject to be authentic and even raw in her descriptions. For her part McGovern’s Ava tugs at the image of her glittering celebrity and overlays it with her humanity. For example she discusses some graphic details of her rehabilitation after her stroke. The glamor vanishes. Instead, we appreciate Ava’s beauty in mortality.
This key identification reinforces the theme that the human need for community and warmth increases with age and may be hard to come by the greater the celebrity. Gradually, the portrait of Gardner clarifies so we understand the extent to which she experienced heartbreak, loneliness and regret. Additionally, we learn that in exchange for her status, she allowed the studio to dictate her decisions about having a family.
In the interim between discussions, projections and re-imaginings of conversations between Ava and her husbands (Mickey Rooney, Arti Shaw, Frank Sinatra), Ed Victor presses Evans for salacious details. The concept of commercialism everpresent today rears its ugly head. Of course “the dirt” fascinates readers. Obviously, Evans has thoroughly researched Ava’s life, so he attempts to confirm rumored sexual tidbits. Sometimes Ava obliges, enthralled with her own history. Then she realizes she takes the honesty and authenticity too far. Indeed, how will she be viewed if Evans uncovers this earthy, untoward portrait of her brought to life beyond a two-dimensional screen?
On the other side of Evans and Ava’s relationship Victor stands. He intends for the book to achieve best seller status, an easy “slam-dunk.” However, Evans’ scruples and perhaps fears of lawsuits take over. And then Ava makes a decision about the project guided by an important influencer in her life. Abruptly, Evans and Gardner never speak again. However, she does leave him a sign he is in her thoughts, a promise she once made when they first met.
Ava: The Secret Conversations challenges one’s expectations about celebrity without using tired cliche’s. Once the conflicts emerge between Evans and Gardner, the pace picks up. When Evans steps into the characters of Rooney and Sinatra, he does so winningly. With Sinatra he gives McGovern’s Ava emotion to respond to. Toward the last half of the production, the play pops. Toni-Leslie James’ costuming as McGovern dresses for a red carpet appearance, enhances the fading star’s glamor. For most of the play Ava has been sitting around in track suits. Putting on her long sleeve white gloves, McGovern dons Ava’s skin. Regally, she convinces us that Ava is every inch a star, even in her 60s after a stroke.
Ava: The Secret Conversations runs 90 minutes with no intermission at New York City Center, 131 W 55th St (between Sixth and Seventh avenues) until September 14th. https://www.nycitycenter.org/pdps/2025-2026/ava-the-secret-conversations/
‘Duke & Roya’ Review, in Love and War
What does Hip Hop music have to do with a Muslim country whose strict religious practices frown on it? Nothing, unless an American base commander brings in a rapper to raise morale and entertain the troops stationed at Bagram Air Force base in Kabul, Afghanistan circa 2017. As unlikely as Hip Hop is to Afghanistan, so is the unlikelihood of the developing relationship between famous rapper Duke (Jay Ellis) and Afghan translator Roya (Stephanie Nur). The evolution of their love and respect for each other develops with humor and insight in Charles Randolph-Wright’s entertaining and meaningful play Duke & Roya. Currently, the hybrid comedy/drama runs at the Lucille Lortel Theatre until August 23rd.
Randolph-Wright unfolds his intriguing play through a series of flashbacks stirred by interviews and interrogations. The purpose of the interviews for the media, obviously is to entertain and titillate. On the other hand the interrogations yield information for investigators. Though we never see the questioners, the four principals, who answer the interrogators,’ questions do the heavy lifting. Through the nimble and talented actors, we form a perspective of the danger and the intrusion into their characters’ personal lives and identities. Randolph-Wright uses the “questioner” device so he can move immediately into the action and adventures between the titular characters in scenes between 2017 and 2025.
Initially, the media questions Duke about his music in the present. Then action transfers from the TV studio to his time in Kabul, Afghanistan. When Duke helicopters onto the base he meets Roya (Stephanie Nur) and her father Sayeed (Dariush Kashani), translators for the American military during the War in Afghanistan. Amiable Sayeed and cool Roya extend their hospitality as employees of the American government. Immediately, Duke shows interest and flirts with Roya, using his confident, “full-of-himself” attitude. Unsurprisingly, his approach, which most likely works on American women, falls flat with Roya.
A product of her culture’s strict mores which Duke knows little about, Roya remains aloof. Because he interprets her reaction as “playing hard to get,” their acquaintance happens slowly. Influentially, Roya redirects him toward a new approach with women to encourage his respect. We recognize her brilliant balancing act. Cleverly, she resists his charms, yet lets him know he does appeal to her. So she teases and surprises him with ironic jokes. However, he eventually understands she must be her own woman.
Throughout their experiences together, this push-pull by Ellis’ Duke and Nur’s Roya plays believably. Acutely shepherded by director Warren Adams, the actors and Adams’ staging of them grounds the play in Wilson Chins’ minimal, stylistic set.
Vitally, the contrast between folkways of the west and east reflected in the lightheartedness, emotional drama and revelation of their personalities does capture our interest. For example we learn about the Afghan practice of bacha posh. Because Sayeed has many daughters, he chose the oldest Roya to live as a boy until puberty. Thus, as a boy she had the opportunity of an education. However, sometimes for purposes of safety she dons male clothing and practices bacha posh, which jeopardizes the situation for her later in the play.
In addition to the standout performances by Ellis and Nur, Noma Dumezweni and Dariush Kashani keep us guessing as Duke’s mom and Roya’s dad. As Desiree, Dumezweni’s strong and forthright sister/mother figure, who chastises Duke when he needs it most, gains our admiration. She’s spot-on mesmerizing. The affable and charming Dariush Kashani authentically conveys the plight of Afghanis caught in an impossible situation. Not aligned with the Taliban that threatens to take over, nor with Americans who will leave the forever war, he, Roya and the family face ever-present danger. Though American visas have been promised for almost a decade, none are on the horizon, a horrific betrayal.
The complex themes sometimes get in the way of each other as the production moves toward the conclusion. Subtly, Randolph-Wright throws into the mix the perspective that Duke exploits the Black experience as a rapper, though his mother is middle upper class. However, Duke’s relationship with Roya changes his perspective and deepens his creativity. Of course the issues of religion, gender and politics come into play. Randolph-Wright intimates the strange parallel of Taliban repression to current oppression of women in the US.
Also, in pointing out facts about the culture clashes and the Afghan war, Randolph-Wright shows the poisonous fallout when the Taliban made a peace deal with the Trump administration without the commitment of Afghan President Ghani. This led to a disastrous withdrawal of American troops and chaos, torture, imprisonment and death for Afghani/US government employees left behind. (Though it is true President Biden extended the evacuation dates, he could not delay the withdrawal indefinitely. Forced to cave to the previous administration’s pressure, he evacuated American personnel and as many of their Afghan counterparts as possible.)
As Duke and Roya mature over the 9 year period, Ellis particularly reveals his maturity during the completion of his interview at the play’s conclusion. Finally, when Duke and Roya meet up again after things become settled, we enjoy watching how their relationship continues to evolve into something profound. Whether or not they end up together is uncertain. However, they have earned their joyful moments together, especially when Ellis’ Duke sings his rhymes for Nur’s Roya with energy and pace. (Ronve O’Daniel’s original music and lyrics are easy and approachable in Ellis’ presentation.)
Amina Alexander’s lighting design, Sanowber Sabrina Spanta’s costume design, Taylor J. Williams sound design and additional music, and Caite Hevner’s projection design provide the background to enhance Chin’s minimal props and set design. These suggest an office at Bagram Air Force Base, an exterior scene in Kabul at night, a swanky hotel room in Dubai, an interrogation room and more.
As one of the more unique, nuanced offerings during this summer Off-Broadway, Duke & Roya shouldn’t be missed.
Duke & Roya runs 2 hours 20 minutes with one 15-minute intermission at the Lucille Lortel Theatre (121 Christopher Street) until August 2nd. https://dukeandroya.com/
‘The Weir’ Review: Drinks and Spirits in a remote Irish Pub
Conor McPherson’s The Weir currently in its fourth revival at Irish Repertory Theatre has evolved its significance for our time. It captures the bygone Irish pub culture and isolated countryside, disappeared by hand-held devices, a global economy and social media. Set in an area of Ireland northwest Leitrim or Sligo, five characters exchange ghostly stories as they drink and chase down their desire for community and camaraderie. Directed with precision and fine pacing by Ciarán O’Reilly, The Weir completes the Irish Rep’s summer season closing August 31st.
Charlie Corcoran’s scenic design of the pub with wooden bar, snacks, bottles, a Guinness tap and heating grate is comfortable for anyone to have a few pints and enjoy themselves at a table or nearby bench. With Michael Gottlieb’s warm, inviting lighting that enhances the actors’ storytelling, all the design elements including the music (Drew Levy-sound design), heighten O’Reilly’s vision of an outpost protective of its denizens and a center of good will. It’s perfect for the audience to immerse itself in the intimacy of conversation held in non-threatening surroundings.
On a dark, windy evening the humorous Jack drops in for drinks as a part of his routine after work at the garage that he owns. A local and familiar patron he helps himself to a bottle since he can’t draw a pint of Guinness because the bar’s tap is not working. Brendan (Johnny Hopkins) owner of the pub, house and farm behind it informs him of this sad fact. But no matter. There are plenty of bottles to be had as Jim (John Keating) joins Jack and Brendan for “a small one.” The entertainment for the evening is the entrance of businessman Finbar (Sean Gormley), who will introduce his client Valerie to the “local color,” since she recently purchased Maura Nealon’s old house.
Initially, Jack, Jim and Brendan gossip about the married Finbar’s intentions as he shows up the three bachelors by escorting the young woman to the pub. Jim, caretaker of his mom, and Jack are past their prime in their late 50-60s. Brendan, taken up with his ownership of the pub and farm, is like his friends, lonely and unmarried. None of them are even dating. Thus, the prospect of a young woman coming up from Dublin to their area is worthy of consideration and discussion.
McPherson presents the groundwork, then turns our expectations around and redirects them, after Finbar and Valerie arrive and settle in for drinks. When the conversation turns to folklore, fairy forts and spirits of the area, Valerie’s interest encourages the men to share stories that have spooky underpinnings. Jack begins his monologue about unseen presences knocking on windows and doors, and scaring the residents until the priest blesses the very house that Valerie purchased.
Caught up in his own storytelling which brings a hush over the listeners (and audience), Jack doesn’t realize the import of his story about the Nealon house that Valerie owns. Thankfully, the priest sent the spirits packing. Except there was one last burst of activity when the weir (dam) was being built. Strangely, there were reports of many dead birds on the ground. Then the knocking returned but eventually stopped. Perhaps the fairies showed their displeasure that the weir interfered with their usual bathing place.
Not to be outdone, Finbar shares his ghost story which has the same effect of stirring the emotions of the listeners. Then, it is Jim who tells a shocking, interpretative spiritual sighting. Ironically, Jim’s monologue has a sinister tinge, as he relays what happened when a man appeared and expressed a wish, but couldn’t really have been present because he was dead.
As drinks are purchased after each storyteller’s turn, the belief in the haunting spirits rises, then wanes as doubts take over. After Jim tells his story about the untoward ghost, Valerie goes to the bathroom in Brendan’s house. During her absence Finbar chides all of them. He regrets their stories, especially Jim’s which could have upset Valerie. With Jack’s humorous calling out of Finbar as a hypocrite, they all apologize to each other and drink some more. By this point, the joy of their conversation and good-natured bantering immerses the audience in their community and bond with each other. I could have listened to them talk the rest of the night, thanks to the relaxing, spot-on authenticity of the actors.
Then, once more McPherson shifts the atmosphere and the supernatural becomes more entrenched when Valerie relates her story of an otherworldly presence. Unlike the men’s tales, what she shares is heartfelt, personal, and profound. The others express their sorrow at what happened to her. Importantly, each of the men’s attitudes toward Valerie changes to one of human feeling and concern. Confiding in them to release her grief, they respond with empathy and understanding. Thus, with this human connection, the objectification of the strange young woman accompanied by Finbar at the top of the play vanishes. A new level of feeling has been experienced for the benefit of all present.
After Finbar leaves with Jim, McPherson presents a surprising coup de grâce. Quietly, Jack shares his poignant, personal story of heartbreak, his own haunting by the living. In an intimate emotional release and expression of regret and vulnerability, Jack tells how he loved a woman he would have married, but he let her slip away for no particularly good reason. Mentoring the younger Brendan not to remain alone like he did, Jack says, “There’s not one morning I don’t wake up with her name in the room.”
McPherson’s theme is a giant one. Back in the day when the world was slower, folks sat and talked to each other in community and conviviality. With such an occasion for closeness, they dispelled feelings of isolation and hurt. As they connected, they helped redeem each other, confessing their problems, or swapping mysteries with no certain answers.
As the world modernized, the ebb and flow of the culture changed and became stopped up, controlled by outside forces. Blocked by fewer opportunities to connect, people retreated into themselves. The opportunities to share dried up, redirected by distractions, much as a dam might redirect the ebb and flow of a river and destroy a place where magical fairies once bathed.
McPherson’s terrific, symbolic play in the hands of O’Reilly, the ensemble and creative team is a nod to the “old ways.” It reminds us of the value of gathering around campfires, fireplaces or heating stoves to tell stories. As companions warm themselves, they unfreeze their souls, learn of each other, and break through the deep silences of human suffering to heal.
The Weir runs 1 hour 40 minutes with no intermission at Irish Repertory Theatre (132 West 22nd St). https://irishrep.org/tickets/
Casey Likes, Lorna Courtney are Terrific in ‘Heathers The Musical’
Heathers the Musical
Currently in revival, Heathers The Musial, based on the cult classic film Heathers (1988), written by Daniel Waters, has rocketed onto New World Stages with fans screaming in delight. The production with book, music and lyrics by Kevin Murphy and Laurence O’Keefe first opened at the same Off-Broadway venue in 2014 with Andy Fickman directing. However, O’Keefe and Murphy continually reworked the production honing it to a fine brilliance during the last decade. Most recently in a limited engagement in the West End, it finally transferred to New World Stages. There, it has been extended until January 25, 2026 for good reason.
The 2025 version incorporates changes, including new songs, created in the intervening decade. The concept and subject matter appeals because the sardonic musical comedy satirizes the cruel power dynamics prevalent in high schools across America. Unless one is a part of the ruling elite and finds popularity and favor, the typical high school social machine grinds you up as trash. Admittedly, each high school has its own peculiar “selektion process” of those who “matter,” and those who “don’t.”
How do communities fight this? In a backlash, one character’s notion to purge the toxicity is to “burn everything down.” However, exchanging one form of hatred, nihilism and supremacy for another can create a never-ending cycle of retribution as the musical indicates. Can anything be done?
In its latest version this terrific, complex production asks and answers these questions. Additionally the top notch performances, music (Will Joy), choreography, (Gary Lloyd, Stephanie Klemons), Andy Fickman’s direction and the design elements cohere with near perfect unity to present an overall message. Despite the darkness present in all of us, our humanity has a softer side. We have only to manifest it with courage in the face of bigotry.
The musical opens as narrator/diarist Veronica Sawyer (the amazing Lorna Courtney) considers the negative transformations her classmates have gone through since kindergarten (“Beautiful”). Brainy, misfit Veronica is a senior at Westerberg High in1989, Ohio. Though Veronica believes herself to be a good person (she befriended uncool Martha Dunnstock {Erin Morton}), she must navigate around her classmates who welcome each other with the insults, “FREAK! SLUT! LOSER! SHORT BUS! BULL-DYKE! STUCK-UP! HUNCHBACK!”
Though Veronica blames this toxicity on their growing up and losing their innocence, we wonder if anyone in authority can rein in the students’ brutality toward each other? Therein lies one conflict. Of course the power dynamic is sub rosa. Because students maintain its secrecy, clueless parents and teachers like Ms. Fleming (Kerry Butler), don’t satisfactorily deal with the horrible social culture. Thus, nothing changes.
It is precisely because those in authority can’t influence the students that the three “Heathers” (McKenzie Kurtz, Kiara Lee covered for Oliva Hardy when I saw the show, and Elizabeth Teeter) rule with ferocity (“Candy Store”). In order to lift up their own status, the Heathers make everyone else feel worthless. Ironically, the students electrify the Heathers’ power grid because they fear their wrath and retribution. What would happen if they didn’t bow to Queen Heather Chandler?
The situation looks up for Veronica when she uses her talent for forgery to save the Heathers from detention. As a result they take her under their wing, give her a make-over and lift her status to “beautiful.” However, she must set up her friend Martha for a grand humiliation at an upcoming party (“Big Fun”) to maintain her popularity.
In a counter punch to stop the Heathers’ obnoxious reign of terror, the new student J.D. (the superb Casey Likes) provides another perspective. He criticizes Veronica for selling out Martha to the, “Swatch-dogs and Diet-Cokeheads.” Likes’ JD, dressed in a trench coat and dripping charisma and courage dazzles, a rebel against the stifling social order.
Because JD, stands up to popular jocks, Ram Sweeney (Xavier McKinnon) and Kurt Kelly (Code Ostermeyer), Veronica becomes interested in him (“Fight For Me”). They form an attachment (“Freeze Your Brain”), and J.D. helps Veronica avoid becoming the “laughing stock” of the school (“Dead Girl Walking”). However, Veronica’s innocent plan to apologize to Heather Chandler for throwing up on her outfit backfires. Mistakenly, Veronica gives Heather the wrong cup filled with drain cleaner (JD’s instigation), instead of the cup with her usual prairie oyster hangover cure.
This unexpected twist brings Veronica and JD closer. But their love relationship fueled by a conspiratorial cover-up of Heather’s death leads to more diabolical behavior. With JD’s help Veronica forges a suicide note imitating Heather’s handwriting. The clever, ironic lyrics to dead Heather’s suicide note, in “The Me Inside of Me,” resonate hysterically. (“No one thinks a pretty girl has substance. I am more than just a source of handjobs. No one sees the me inside of me.”) Easily duped, despite Chandler’s horrible nature, the school community believes in her vulnerability and unhappiness.
The suicide note elevates Heather to even greater status as a flawed, lonely teenager like everyone else. Meanwhile, the ghost of dead Heather haunts Veronica and cryptically comments while Heather Duke takes Chandler’s place as “Queen.” In a downward spiral Heather Duke’s reign turns out to be worse than Chandler’s. Duke sets up Veronica to be sexually attacked by Ram and Kurt. Though Veronica foils the rape, she and JD plot revenge. Once again the vengeance which begins innocently in Veronica’s misguided mind turns deadly in JD’s hands.
After Veronica and JD tally up two more “accidental” murders, they write believable suicide notes that Ram and Kurt were gay. Neatly, they’ve cleansed the school of three of the most brutal kids in the social hierarchy. In Act I’s closing number (“Our Love is God”), they affirm their love and righteous acts of “justice” with the mind-blowing lyrics: “We can start and finish wars. We’re what killed the dinosaurs. We’re the asteroid that’s overdue.” As JD tells Veronica he’d give his life for her, Veronica cannot resist his love and allure. Energized by her and their new found form of justice, JD’s nihilism continues in Act II. Only Veronica can stop him.
With Andy Fickman’s superior staging and humorous, well-paced timing, the production flies by at two hours and 30 minutes. The ensemble’s exuberance, voices and dancing are cracker-jack, the arrangements super. Memorable throughout, Lorna Courtney sustains her portrayal of Veronica’s transformation from “good person” to JD’s unwitting accomplice to murder, and back again. As JD Casey Likes is Courtney’s match pitting his phenomenal voice against hers with every song. As a couple they shine, reminding us that evil can be seductive.
Finally, McKenzie Kurtz lifts the ironic character of Heather Chandler in death with fine pacing and great humor. She aligns in a perfect contrast with Erin Morton’s kind-hearted, loving Martha Dunnstock, who would be everyone’s friend if they they opened their eyes to her goodness. Standout numbers “My Dead Gay Son,” (Ben Davis, Cameron Loyal are hysterical) and “Shine a Light” (the funny Kerry Butler) are LOL. “Kindergarten Boyfriend” (Erin Morton is spot-on authentic) resonates with pathos.
Thematically, Water’s film and the Heathers musical (2014) were harbingers of today’s cultural divisions. With prescience they exposed the danger of allowing high school communities to be breeding grounds of hate and discrimination, fostered by a school’s particular “master race” clique. If high schools reflect the larger culture, then social media exponentially spreads their poison. Is it any wonder that insults, hate and bigotry are embraced by “seleckt” political groups to gain votes? Spawned in community settings and reinforced by boards of education in their curriculums, hate and discrimination become normalized.
Heathers the Musical reveals the social construct which accepted a “president” who uses insults, bullying tactics and death threats to get what he wants. It also reveals a better answer than JD’s nihilism in the concluding song. It’s up to us to “make it beautiful.”
Heathers The Musical runs 2 hours 30 minutes with one intermission at New World Stages. https://heathersthemusical.com/new-york/about-ny/
In “Angry Alan,” John Krasinski Leaps into the Snakepit of Toxic Masculinity
When cruelty spools out gently and gradually, the witness to it barely notices. However, after a wholesome, middle-aged man morphs from a butterfly of geniality into an ugly, devouring canker worm, the “in-your-face” transformation appalls. John Krasinski reverse engineers Roger’s good-guy persona (think Jim Halpert, “The Office”), into a self-satisfied misogynist in the one-man show Angry Alan. Presented as a limited engagement, Angry Alan, directed by Sam Gold, written by Penelope Skinner (created with Don Mackay), currently runs at the refurbished Studio Seaview through August 3rd.
If you enjoy Krasinski’s work, in Angry Alan he’s humorous and heartfelt, and at the top of his game. Krasinski slyly generates Roger’s emotional breakdown. When we reach the finale, spun out after eighty-five minutes, Roger’s darkening metamorphosis has numbed our emotions.
With insight and ingenuity, the playwright reveals how cultural influences can harm men as they “look for shelter” from their own inner pain and torment. Rather than get professional, local help, they may seek like-minded others on social media for a quick, feel-good fix with disastrous results.
When we meet Roger in his unremarkable, unadorned home in the midwest (courtesy of dots’ apt scenic design), his confessional tone and good-natured aura solicit our interest. Despite his divorce and his firing from an upper level position at AT&T, his smiling face and energy shine with positivity. Krasinski hones his portrayal skillfully with power. Winningly, he mines Roger’s goodwill with his charming audience interactions. He has us. However, where are we going with him?
As we learn his back story, we note his “good guy” persona. For example, ex-wife Suzanne always receives child support payments on time for their son Joe whom he loves. Additionally, he encourages his girlfriend Courtney and her new friends who are feminists and vegans. Furthermore, he supports Courtney’s taking art classes at the local community college, despite the nude male and female models. Not an “extremist,” he walks the political middle of the road.
Thus, Roger’s frenetic enthusiasm about the online guru he recently discovered and hesitates to discuss with Courtney doesn’t alarm. So, we “hear him out.” Clearly, the guy on the internet that Roger finds simpatico has drawn him with his mesmerizing, candid videos. Sure, we know how addictive videos can be. Don’t we immerse ourselves watching them on our phones?
However, the video creator “Angry Alan,” uses a handle that expresses the feelings of hundreds of his followers. As it turns out Alan pushes a stereotypical, one-sided perspective about men’s oppression by “a gynocracy out of control,” a feminist movement over the edge. Roger ignores the causes of feminism as he presents how Angry Alan uplifts men’s rights. Obviously, because women “dominate the world” (like Beyoncé says), men are in crises. Roger cites various statistics (men are more likely to commit suicide, die in combat, be college drop-outs), to reveal how modern men are “in trouble.”
After Roger confides in girlfriend Courtney and they discuss his new interest, he gains her support, though she doesn’t watch any of the videos. Instead, the affable Roger filters Alan through his vulnerable lens and makes him sound reasonable. In fact, this new direction Roger takes prompts him to send a video to Joe. And for the first time, Joe texts him and they agree to Joe’s visit, a first that thrills Courtney. However, Roger doesn’t tell her he uses his child support money for a pricey gold donor ticket to Angry Alan’s men’s conference.
As a turning point in Roger’s downward spiral, the men’s empowerment conference skyrockets his enthusiasm. Meanwhile, the truth revealed in Gold’s staging and the scenic design indicate Roger’s brokenness and susceptibility to brainwashing. As Roger describes the numbers of men and a few women who attend, Gold represents this with two dummies sitting in chairs and a painted backdrop of indistinguishable figures in the distance. No wonder why Roger dismisses those few he talked to and only has eyes for the internet icon and star of the conference, Alan, whom we never see.
The more urgent his need to calm his inner turmoil and isolation, the less Roger focuses on reality. So when he attempts to cheer up a woman he meets at the conference, who leaves depressed, she expresses truths Roger dismisses. There to report on the economic practices of online personalities, Roger quotes her, ” I’m ‘upset’ cos I just sat in a room all day with a bunch of guys like you spewing hate and laughing at rape jokes.” Then she reveals that Alan doesn’t use the donations he receives for charities. Instead, the money goes in Alan’s personal bank account.
Though she has given Roger the inside truth of Angry Alan’s MO, Roger insults her and walks away. Reinforcing his position, he projects onto her his inner emotional state, “What a bitter woman. Talk about fake news.” This stubbornness thrusts him deeper into the abyss. So, when Joe visits and confides in his father looking for comfort, Roger can’t accept Joe’s revelation because it doesn’t line up with Alan’s world view. The affable good guy disappears and a monster of hate and rage manifests. “Angry Alan” has spawned “Angry Roger.” Unable to self-correct or self-evaluate, Roger destroys his relationship with Joe.
Krasinski makes Roger’s descent and self-annihilation believable with the exception of the last moments of the play. Though Roger has a cathartic moment, Skinner drags us back to the internet and Angry Alan’s followers. If she ended the play with Roger feeling the despair of his own pain and sorrow, the play might have had more thematic grist and allowed the audience to identify with Roger’s humanity. Instead, Skinner leaves him online. Though Roger hasn’t had enough, we have. Despite Gold’s finely paced direction, coherent technical vision and Krasinski’s performance, the conclusion leaves us cold.
Angry Alan runs 1 hour 25 minutes without an intermission at Studio Seaview through August 3. studioseaview.com.
‘Call Me Izzy’ Jean Smart Triumphs in her Broadway Return
It was a wise casting choice to engage Jean Smart for Call Me Izzy, written by Jamie Wax. Call Me Izzy currently runs at Studio 54 until August 17th. The beloved “Hacks” star, a Six-time Emmy Award winner and Tony nominee is drawing fans who are delighted to see her after a two-decade absence from Broadway.
The 90-minute play is aptly shepherded with fine pacing and staging by Sarna Lapine. This is especially so once Izzy moves from the bathroom where she is forced to write in secrecy. The director’s collaboration with Smart and the technical team reveal a woman’s life under siege in a horrific marriage.
With supporting lighting effects by Donald Holder, compressed interior scenic design and haunting, exterior forest projection by Mikiko Suzuki MacADAMS, the production is nuanced and profound. Though the play does feel contrived in its development, overall, the production is memorable for Smart’s performance and the technical elements that highlight the play’s themes. Even Smart’s costumes (long flannel shirts and jeans by Tom Broecker) and the original music composition by T Bone Burnett and David Mansfield cohere with the characterization and suggest the South.
Smart portrays Izzy in a moment-to-moment solo performance. She takes on the voices of various characters as she relates Izzy’s story. Throughout, Smart shimmers as a powerhouse of feeling, evoking empathy and emotion. Though at times the accent she uses wasn’t clear, (Beth Lake’s sound design), enough of the humor broke through. Smart’s illuminating portrayal of the Louisiana poet who lives in a trailer park with a mean, abusive husband, did override any artificiality that distracted me.
Nevertheless, because of the setting and background details, one can easily figure out the direction of events after the first fifteen minutes. Additionally, the play’s predictability and Izzy’s self-victimization, provoked when she stays with the violent Ferd for years, strain one’s patience. Thank goodness for the talented Jean Smart whose affability and humility lead one to hope for Izzy, despite knowing what the inevitable, dire conclusion will be.
As a housewife in rural Louisiana in 1989, Izzy adores writing, even though it must be in secret away from Ferd’s prying eyes. With exuberance she explains her first inspiration to write, her high school teacher who encouraged her, and a neighbor who takes her to a nearby library where Izzy reads Shakespeare and writes a sonnet. Over the years she fills her journals which she hides away in a back closet because Ferd despises such “uppity ways.” Clearly, as his possession she must remain on his intellectual level. Thus, he prevents her attending college though it might improve their lives. And a monetary award she wins to pursue a writing residency is her curse to be punished, not their blessing.
Izzy writes to express her feelings. Married to Ferd since her 17th birthday, initially they enjoyed each other, prospered and moved to a more upscale trailer park abutting a forest. As Izzy discusses their relationship we note that he gradually meets her attempt to establish her identity through poetry with violence. Tip-toeing around Ferd, Izzy learns to live an inner life apart from him. Whenever she or others inadvertently reveal her talents, Ferd takes offense. He interprets her work as treason and beats her. At a particularly crucial turning point, he takes all of her journals and burns them. He forces her to watch her words, which symbolize her lifeblood, “go up in smoke.” Izzy says with his act he has killed her.
Ferd controls. Izzy lets him believe he is the lord and master, and she bows to his every whim. What sustains her? The inner resilience she receives by writing poetry.
Izzy persists after he burns her journals. Covertly, she evolves herself, her reading and writing. It is why she is in the bathroom discussing the blue tablets she puts in the toilet tank at the top of the play. She shows us how she writes in the bathroom of the cramped trailer. In fact a good deal of the play takes place in the bathroom where she can be alone in quiet to write, think and speak to us.
Mikiko Suzuki MacAdams’ scenic design aptly walls off a bathroom and squeezes in an oversized toilet with a lid that serves as a “table” where Izzy writes on toilet paper. The sonnet and other poems are wadded up and hidden in a Tampax box in a cabinet. The toxically masculine Ferd would never look there. The irony of the bathroom setting is a wonderful touch. In its small space Izzy finds the solace of her wide imagination.
Unfortunately, her writing is not enough. Izzy is a product of the folkways of her culture and her upbringing. Unable to escape them they influence her final actions at the play’s conclusion.
The subject matter of Call Me Izzy is important now more than ever. However, Izzy’s passivity is difficult to experience. It is why, when Smart’s Izzy expresses an interest in leaving Ferd, the audience cheers her on. Too little, too late; we must be tortured by Izzy’s last choice which leaves an uncertain ending.
Call Me Izzy runs 1 hour 30 minutes through August 17th at Studio 54. callmeizzyplay.com.
I
‘Pirates!’ Is a Riot With David Hyde Pierce, ARGH!
Pirates! The Penzance Musical Set in The Big Easy
The revival of Pirates of Penzance, the comedic operetta with music by Arthur Sullivan and libretto by W. S. Gilbert, has been transformed into Pirates! The Penzance Musical. Indeed, it has been hauled overseas from Penzance, England to New Orleans, Louisiana for a riotous update by Rupert Holmes with new orchestrations by Joseph Joubert and Daryl Waters. It is currently revving up exuberance and laughter at Roundabout’s Todd Haimes Theater.
Holmes attempts to spin the setting changes by having a “real” Gilbert (David Hyde Pierce, who also plays Major General Stanley), and Sullivan (Preston Truman Boyd, who also plays the sergeant of Police), take the audience into their confidence in the show’s prelude. They discuss why they brought the musical to premiere and tour US cities. Importantly, they relate their enchantment with post-Reconstruction New Orleans which inspired them to “pirate” the colorful flavor of the music in the French Quarter and adapt it to various songs in the musical. Indeed, all of the scenes take place in and around the atmospheric New Orleans (even a graveyard) that represents the varied ethnic and cultural ethos of the city.
This is where fantasy takes over and “reality” is dumped by the wayside. New Orleans (1880s) notoriously expanded white supremacy (the White League was the racist organization that benefited from the eventual Jim Crow legislation, Plessy v Ferguson) despite its multicultural population, after Reconstruction ended in 1877.
Nevertheless, as facts are stretched to fantasy, the casting of Major General Stanley’s daughters along a racial divide in contrast to the pirates must suspend one’s imagination into the realm of farce and pure entertainment. Actually, Holmes’ version would do well in a current MAGA South adverse to being aligned with “woke” or “critical race theory,” as it throws history out the window. However, the production makes New Orleans “historical” in its wonderful costuming (Linda Cho) and David Rockwell’s scenic design of the pirate ship that Karimloo makes his rope-swinging, spectacular entrance from.
As farce Holmes’ reworking is top notch for humor. His desire to update the musical and appeal to current audiences is understandable because Gilbert and Sullivan’s work (first brought to the US in 1878) is extraordinary, British ironic and extremely clever. It is especially appreciated if one is able to launch into the nooks and crannies of its brilliant and humorous lyrics. Though I was able to look at the script, for those who must rely on the ensemble to enunciate the lyrics, especially in the choral numbers, one loses much in the translation. However, the driving music and director Scott Ellis’ staging and frenetically paced action mitigates that loss.
In keeping with reimagining a New Orleans’ vibe that is more Southern down home than British witty, the production sports a different tenor than a superb but traditional revival produced at The Public Theater in 1981, starring Kevin Kline, Linda Ronstadt and Estelle Parsons. That Pirates of Penzance was gloriously captured on film in 1983. For a contrast, it would be delightful to revisit the film then see the Roundabout’s lighthearted production.
Maintaining the general plot of Gilbert and Sullivan’s 1878 operetta, “Pirates!” unfolds the story of the hapless and innocent Frederic (the excellent Nicholas Barasch). In the antiquated fashion of indentured servitude, Frederic is duty-bound by his deceased father to be the apprentice to the Pirate King (the gymnastically vigorous, organically funny and gorgeously voiced and appearanced Ramin Karimloo). Ironically, the Pirate King is derelict in his piracy (we discover why at the conclusion), as he incompetently leads his band of “spurious” pirates NOT to plunder, kill or steal.
Thus, residing with the pirates and following the dereliction of duty promoted by the Pirate King, Frederic eventually completes his service on his twenty-first birthday. It is then the Pirate King frees him so he can go ashore, join law abiding society and kill every pirate he was colleagues with during his long servitude. Of course, his freedom doesn’t go as planned because of a mathematical miscalculation, and the conflict turns in another direction teetering on debacle until it is righted.
Additionally, in between meting out justice, Frederic plans to find a bride, though marrying a younger woman will break Ruth’s heart because he promised to be with her for the rest of his life. But information enlightens him and makes Frederic change his promise to Ruth, especially after he meets the lovely Mabel (Samanta Williams) and they pledge their love for each other. However, as with a common Shakespearean theme, for Frederic and Mabel, “The course of true love never runs smoothly.” And it is in the kinks and gyrating turns that the comedy reaches its heights.
The comedy also is delivered with David Hyde Pierce’s exceptional performance of Major-General Stanley, which he acts with complete aplomb and authenticity. Pierce enunciates every word clearly and thus unrolls the stuffy, effete, sincere Major-General with dedicated determination. Considering Pierce is doing double time as Gilbert performing the Major-General, his ironic demeanor is the vehicle which is a natural for the British Gilbert’s stiff upper lip delivery. And it is hysterical. His is a really well-thought out performance as is Monsoon’s and Karimloo’s, which is memorable for his leaps over barrels, leaps onto tables and veritable sailing in the air during various numbers. Humorous as well, he is outrageously good as he pings the Pirate King’s vulnerability falling for the plight of the orphaned who into his sphere of influence.
To his credit, Holmes has put his imprint on Gilbert and Sullivan with this reinvention and has even tucked in numbers from other Gilbert and Sullivan operettas (HMS Pinafore, The Mikado and Iolanthe) to fill in and round out the characterizations and establish bridges seguing action from one sequence to the next. For characterization, in Act II, we learn more about the emotions of lovelorn and Frederic-spurned pirate wench Ruth (featuring the versatile talents of Jinkx Monsoon-two-time winner of “RuPaul’s Drag Race”). Bemoaning her fate away from her unrequited love interest Frederic, she sings “Alone and Yet Alive” with lyrics adapted from the song in The Mikado.
It is Holmes’ bold move to create empathy for Ruth, add coherence and deepen the emotion in the fun frolic. Jinkx Monsoon does a fine job in keeping balance with humor and pathos so we understand Ruth’s heart-felt loss, yet appreciate how she encourages herself to make the best without a particular “someone.”
Waters’ orchestrations and Joubert’s music direction strike various phrasings which are current New Orleans (not the setting of the post-Reconstruction town). These include blues, jazz, Creole notes and rhythms, Dixieland and much more. There is even an ersatz funeral New Orleans style music which is thrown in for good measure. And Mardi Gras season comes upon the pirates as they “let the good times roll.”
Finally, I enjoyed the washboard number at the end of Act I (“We Sail the Ocean Blue” from HMS Pinafore) for its cleverness and rhythmically united efforts by the entire cast. And the conclusion is a fantasy finale which uplifts the Trump, Musk, MAGA hated DEI lyrics “integrated” into “He Is an Englishman” from HMS Pinafore, which is a sardonic joke in itself, which I completely adored. This is in your face Broadway. If the Bill of Rights doesn’t apply, then nowhere on the globe and in the former British Empire or American is humanity safe. I completely appreciate Holmes’ sardonic and charming approach with a wit that Gilbert and Sullivan would have approved of.
I just loved this reimagining as a farce with fantastic elements, all with a point. See it.
Pirates! The Penzance Musical runs 2 hours, 15 minutes with one intermission until July 27 at the Todd Haimes Theater. roundabouttheatre.org.
‘Real Women Have Curves’ is a Sensational Adaptation With an Underlying Moral Imperative
Read Women Have Curves
Based on Josefina López’s titular play, and the 2002 HBO film adaptation starring America Ferrera, Real Women Have Curves, at the James Earl Jones Theater, is an exuberant, humorous, beautifully colorful fun-fest with underlying messages about past Republican immigration policies, discrimination, fat-shaming, Latinx cultural iconography, female empowerment, self-love, and making the American Dream one’s own. Delighting the audiences, the production also is vitally historic in reminding us of the great sacrifice those who seek a better life make when they leave their native country for an unwelcoming nation.
Though the musical is set in Los Angeles, 1987, it has tremendous currency during the debacle of the Trump administrations’ kidnapping, trafficking and incarceration of migrants in concentration camps out of the country, illegally without due process. This unlawful, brutal practice misnamed deportation (which mandates due process), is being noted as a crime against humanity by many groups, including the United Nations and The Hague. The musical’s themes and plot contrast between the past and the present, where the current derelict, corrupt administration would degrade the United States by violating the 5th amendment to the constitution.
The Tony-nominated score by Grammy® Award–winning singer-songwriter Joy Huerta (known as half of the pop duo Jesse & Joy), was written with Benjamin Velez. Both wrote the music and lyrics and are also responsible for orchestrations and arrangements. With the book by Lisa Loomer (Distracted) and Nell Benjamin (Mean Girls), music supervision by Nadia DiGiallonardo (Waitress), and choreography and direction by Tony® winner Sergio Trujillo (Ain’t Too Proud), these creatives have knocked it out of the ballpark. to make the show a winner.
Coupled with the superb performances and ensemble work by the cast, the ebullience is catching and it’s impossible not to hum along, or sway in one’s seat with many of the upbeat, message-filled numbers (“Make It Work,” “De Nada,” “Oy Muchacha,” “Adios Andres,” and “Real Women Have Curves.”). We feel immediate empathy with the likable, endearing and ironically humorous Mexican women of various ages, who dream of establishing themselves in prosperity despite the incredibly long work hours at two or three jobs, the social obstacles of being “the other” culturally, and the daily threat of being deported back to their own country, a dangerous prospect.
At the outset, we note the key conflict is between mother and daughter, 18-year-old Ana García (Tatianna Córdoba), and her mom, Carmen (Justina Machado). Ana was born in the United States and has constitutional birth-right citizenship. Her older sister Estela (Florencia Cuenca), was born in Mexico. To improve their situation, father Raul (Mauricio Mendoza), found work in Los Angles and eventually moved the three of them to Boyle Heights, and stayed with persistence and tolerance of discrimination. As they prospered, Carmen and Raul subsidized Estela’s dress business, all the while raising the younger Ana to adopt American ways, but never forget her heritage.
As the only American citizen, Ana excels in school, graduates with honors and as an aspiring journalist with a summer internship, applies to Columbia University where she receives an acceptance and full scholarship. At her internship with a local paper where she practices her journalism skills pro bono to gain valuable experience, she meets Henry (the superb Mason Reeves), and forms an adorable attachment. Aye, if Carmen knew about Columbia and Henry, she would hit the roof.
Of course Carmen, unsettled by their illegal status fears deportation and intends to keep the family together, just in case. Carmen’s plans are why Ana can never tell her mother about her great news that she has climbed the first rung of her dreams in her full-ride scholarship to Columbia in New York City. Now, it’s only a matter of going, regardless of Carmen’s stubbornness to keep Ana at home. When she finally does tell her, Carmen is beyond herself.
The chief reason why Carmen can’t let her go concerns their status. If they are picked up by INS, Ana’s birthright citizenship will possibly save them. The question becomes will Ana choose her dreams or put them on hold and stay with her family in support. However, if she waits, she may never get another opportunity like a free-ride to expensive Columbia again. Ana does tell sister Estela who encourages her; they agree behind Carmen’s back she should wait to tell Carmen.
In a second conflict which involves their prosperity in their business and their immigration status, Estela’s dress shop receives a fabulous order for 200 dresses. The order is from the well-connected, elite-looking, stylish Mrs. Wright (Claudia Mulet when I saw the production). Mrs. Wright gives the order under the condition that unless they are finished in three weeks, she won’t pay Estela and will take the dresses the dressmakers did finish. Thrilled to work with Mrs. Wright for her buyer contacts-a chance to increase their opportunities-Estela agrees to Mrs. Wright’s handshake contract, despite the fact that it is an onerous and shady arrangement. The dressmakers are thrilled and agree to work hard (“Make It Work”). Carmen suggests that Ana can help them get the job done and learn to sew.
However, as we find out into Act 2, Estela has taken a tremendous risk. A second question arises as the suspense increases. Will they be able to get the dresses in on time? As a further obstacle, while they are progressing, there is a loud explosion. Next door an illegal factory with undocumented workers is raided. In panic and fear, the dressmakers turn the lights off and remain in the darkness until there is quiet. It’s a moment of great tension for everyone.
After the lights are on and the danger passes, the 19-year-old Itzel (Aline Mayagoitia), from Guatemala has an asthma attack. Ana takes her to the roof to “breathe,” with a change of scene and humor to recoup. There they sing “If I Were a Bird.” It’s an important turning point in the musical as we empathize with the women, understanding the horror migrants live with to follow their dreams.
Every day Estela goes to the shop is a day they might be raided. The risks they take to survive and try to carve out a place for their families is fraught with struggle and sacrifice, but they persist. Seeing this from the perspective of the undocumented, though it was during the time of Republican President Ronald Reagan is historic. Reagan offered Amnesty as a path to citizenship, the antithesis of what current MAGA politicos and the Trurmp administration offer.
Instead, the current administration kidnaps and trafficks. It isn’t deportation, for deportation mandates due process first. The administration kidnaps and trafficks for the sole purpose of getting white supremacist votes. They sadistically enjoy the cruelty and brutality. Thus, the kidnapping, etc. without due process “shows” machismo as the MAGAS embrace hatred and discrimination against those of color. The Trump administration even supports death threats against judges who give migrants constitutional due process. Was this person inaugurated as he said he accepted his “oath?”
The INS raid in the musical is truly horrific. A hush fell over the audience as they “got it.” I couldn’t help but think how much more duress the migrants and the dreamer generations have experienced from the 1990s to today. Not only is there no path, citizenship is near impossible unless “extra” means are used to open the doors, as they were with Elon Musk and his brother and Melania Trump. All came here illegally.
As if to underscore the cruelty that has been exponentially increased during the present administration, making it unrecognizable as Republican, the announcement at the end of Act I is terrifying. The sweet, funny Itzel has been picked up by INS. In Act II when Ana tries to help her after she finally locates Itzel in a bleak detention center (Arnulfo Maldonado’s set design), where she is receiving due process. INS is willing to turn Itzel over to Ana if she will be her sponsor. It’s an impossibility. Though Ana’s an American citizen, she can do nothing without jeopardizing her family and the other women. It’s a Catch-22 situation, so she says good bye, is insulted by the guard and leaves Itzel to the unsympathetic and demeaning prison keepers.
After this difficult scene, Carmen announces she is “eating for two,” and is “pregnant.” But the women tell her it is menopause. The scene uplifts with unifying details women can empathize with as they mourn getting older. The ensemble riffs and joke, sharing their names for their “monthly;” Carmen’s is “Andres.” “Adios Andres,” an upbeat song with riotous lyrics helps bring them together to move on because there is nothing else they can do for Itzel without jeopardizing themselves. As they work on finishing the order, it gives rise to a terrific bonding song, “Real Women Have Curves.”
During the titular song, the women disrobe in order to encourage one another to love themselves and dispel the body shaming plasticity of the white culture’s mores to be television-ready thin (BMI 18), young, stylish, non-ethnic. Hispanic cultures find it hard to assimilate into the fat is hateful value, though Carmine beats up and body shames Ana for needing to lose weight, which obviously is a form of emotional abuse. And as we learn with the humorous “Real Women Have Curves,” and “Adios Andres,” extra pounds never stopped the women from enjoying their sexuality. When Ana puts aside her mother’s criticism of her weight, she establishes a budding relationship with fellow journalism intern Henry in a riotous scene (“Doin’ It Anyway”).
However, the beauty of the song “Real Women Have Curves” is the ensemble’s assertion that they are the normal ones and not the white culture’s anorexic leaning, surgery-enhanced women like Mrs. Wright. One after the other, the dressmakers stand singing in their underwear. This symbolizes gaining their power to throw off fat shaming. The audience went wild and perhaps some in the balcony joined them by tearing off their blouses/t-shirts. All this to express that a majority of the social culture is tired of the sickness/anorexia inducing emphasis of a fascist appearance ideal, now stoked with diabetes drugs, a different kind of “shooting up” from other drugs that previously addicted and decreased appetite and speeded up metabolism (cocaine).
The ensemble knocks it into the next galaxy with this number, beautifully staged and choreographed by director Sergio Trujillo. Afterward, the women become even more energized and Ana gains the confidence to approach Henry and be intimate with him in a later scene.
Meanwhile, the stakes are raised. Estela receives a call from Mrs. Wright who is pulling the contract because they lost a worker to INS. When Wright arrives, she attempts to take the dresses and pay Estela nothing. How does Mrs. Wright know they lost a worker? Mrs. Wright implies she knows much about their community. In other words, she has spies, has exploited undocumented worker factories and turns the situation cruelly to her advantage.
The character of Mrs. Wright, is a subtle counterpoint to the other characters. We learn she was also a migrant, but assimilated and internalized some of the worst of American “values”-the love of money and the necessity of adopting arrogance and branding herself a success. As Wright explains, she turned her back on her roots, changed her appearance to fit in with white women’s fascist and oppressive “can’t be too rich or too thin” mantra. They eat little and are on a constant diet. We learn at the conclusion that Mrs. Wright married up. We don’t know if he is older and uglier with money, but we do know she is ferociously determined and not averse to exploiting the illegal status of Estela and her undocumented dressmakers.
As a character foil, Mrs. Wright provides Ana’s most excellent ridicule. Ana stands up to her, using her power as a journalist. She traps her into keeping the date and time for delivery when Wright attempted to cut it short and steal from the women because they had no leverage. Ana shows she has leverage and uses her brilliance to force Mrs. Wright to uphold her end of the contract in a very funny, satisfying scene.
Perhaps most importantly as an understated conflict there is the tension of what it means to be from a different culture and have to assimilate in order to “get along.” How much must one adapt to the culture to fulfill one’s dreams? How much must one retain of one’s identity to gain one’s power but not be “too ethnic” to be a success?
Real Women Have Curves is just sensational in revealing these complex issues with humor, grace and power. It shines a beacon on all of Americans as migrants, some of whom have stupidly “forgotten” their heritage. Indeed, today, some like Mrs. Wright become lost in the process of “shedding” their unwanted ethnic identity, even to the point of “color-correcting” their appearance. In their self-loathing, they uplift artificiality, fashioning themselves into an AI generated, surgery-enhanced image. In such a culture with such warped values and “amnesia,” is it any wonder that the current political administration with an abundance of former plastic-looking TV personalities, with little qualifications or merit, support migrants and some green card holders being brutalized, kidnapped, trafficked and stripped of their basic human rights?
Look for the layers in Real Women Have Curves. From technicals to performances there is perfection and coherence: set design (Maldonado), Natasha Katz’s lighting design, the sensational costume design (Wilberth Gonzalez & Paloma Young), John Shivers’ sound design, Hana S. Kim’s video design, and Krystal Balleza & Will Vicari’s hair, wig & makeup design. Their collaboration with Trujillo’s vision of Lisa Loomer and Nell Benjamin’s book and Joy Huerta and Benjamin Velez’ music and lyrics make this a must-see many times over.
Real Women Have Curves runs 2 hours 20 minutes with one intermission at the James Earl Jones Theater. realwomenhavecurvesbroadway.com.
‘Maybe Happy Ending,’ Breathtaking With Darren Criss, Helen J Shen
Maybe Happy Ending
“Memento Mori!” The Stoics created this phrase meaning “remember you must die.” Human beings can be incredibly oblivious to their own mortality, especially when they are young. Indeed, it gets worse as one ages in the attempt to forestall looking old to remain “forever young.” But what does that have to do with robots Oliver (Darren Criss) and Claire (Helen J Shen), simulated, digital human beings who run on technological parts and have operating systems, batteries, chargers, chips, etc.? As it turns out “memento mori” is the linchpin of Maybe Happy Ending, currently at the Belasco Theatre until January 2026.
As with all things, even with long-lived elements like tellurium-128, the second law of thermodynamics applies: all things move from order to chaos, entropy. Heat dissipates into cold. Things fall apart. Things come to an end. It’s irrevocable. And at this point there’s not a damn thing one can do but live life to the fullest, if memento mori..
It is Claire, an advanced Model 5 robot, who is sleek, beautiful, witty and programmed to understand most things, who essentially reminds Oliver that things come to an end.
But Oliver doesn’t really get it. Oliver is a less smoothly functioning and quirky-kinky-glitchy robot Model 3. The earlier, older model is more simplistic and durable, programmed to be upbeat, decorous, sweet. He is the perfect companion, friend, son, but unaware about the deeper, more painful qualities and attributes of human beings and the natural order of the known world and his place in it. Innocent, and cheerful, he doesn’t seem to understand the cycles of wheel and woe, peaks and valleys and the end of things, for example humans, relationships, devices, himself. But by the conclusion of this incredible heart-rending musical, Oliver learns about himself. He learns what he is capable of, guided by Claire’s empathy, wisdom and heart.
The year is 2064 on the outskirts of Seoul, Korea when we meet Oliver and Claire, Helperbots (think android servants), once hired out by their manufacturer to assist their human owners with daily tasks. However, a blip has occurred for Oliver and Claire whose existence and purpose has changed. Their antiquated operating systems can no longer be upgraded. Replacement parts are scarce or discontinued. The company has with consideration allowed them to spend their purposeless, remaining days in a retirement home in the Helperbot Yards until they come to the end of themselves.
The set design of their rooms at the Helperbot Yards is imagined cleverly by Dane Laffrey via bright lighting in their rooms (Ben Stanton’s design), surrounded by darkness. Neon tube sliding panels separate and feature Claire’s and Oliver’s rooms side by side, or in movement, like a split screen effect. The rooms are color coordinated. Claire’s belongings are pink and lavender with saturated lighting effects. Oliver’s room appointments are mostly neutral influenced by his owner with blue lighting effects. The colors ironically signify their genders, recalling an innocence that belies their knowledge and Claire’s deeper understanding of human beings. As they grow closer, the saturated lighting effects sometimes alternate.
Laffrey’s scenic and additional video design, along with Ben Stanton’s lighting design and George Reeve’s video design cohere perfectly with director Michael Arden’s vision and tone, effected by Hue Park’s book and lyrics and Will Aronson’s book, lyrics and music, which is sonorous, mellifluous and lovely.
Oliver appears Model 3 robotic with slicked down helmet-headed hair, (Craig Franklin Miller’s hair & wig design), obvious reddish lips and paste skin tone (Suki Tsujimoto) and a perfectly tailored, boyish outfit by Clint Ramos. Claire’s pleated skirt and white blouse are simple, and flowing in more natural colors as the later models were designed to appear real; her hair and make-up coordinate and appear natural. The vibrant color and Ramos’ costumes cohere with the color schemes, save Claire’s initial outfit, though she wears a colorful jacket when they travel.
The design features represent the robotic and real worlds stylized appropriately. The real world is dimly lit and in shadow; the natural setting is somber, subdued and minimal. There is no sense of futuristic design consonant with James’ preference of retro mirrored in his acoustic music taste. James and his son (both played by Marcus Choi) naturally. Likewise, singer Gil Brentley appears in fall toned period clothing of the 50s. Sometimes with a microphone, perhaps in a club where he once performed, Brentley sings four songs solo in simple lighting. Finally, the forest scene is magically lit, captivatingly stylized, romantic and “to die for,” which is the point.
Peter Hylenski’s sound design is balanced for Deborah Abramson (music supervision), and the songs are lyrical, the harmonies in the duets gorgeous. Both Criss and Shen have voices that convey the tone of light, love and beauty. The cool jazz numbers sung by the excellent Dez Duron as singer Gil Brentley are seamlessly mixed into the action as a counterpoint to it and commentary on it.
Of the two robots, Shen’s astute, ironic Claire is the more aware, having experienced poignant and hurtful events with her beloved owner who gave her up. We get to see this via amazing digital projections and a hologram (George Reeve’s video design), as Claire revisits memories to fill in the puzzle pieces of a mystery Oliver needs to have solved. Claire is canny, smoothly sophisticated and not easily duped. There is little that she can’t figure out. On the other hand, Oliver is oblivious about why he is where he is. Oliver believes that his beloved owner and friend James will be coming to take him to wherever he has gone so they may resume their relationship which makes both of them happy.
With Oliver’s first song, “World Within my Room,” Will Aronson and Hue Park establish the situation of his isolated living arrangement which he doesn’t mind, convinced James will come for him. He is contented in his own confined world with his friend, the plant HwaBoon, his jazz records, an old-fashioned record player, all given to him by James, a jazz aficionado who converted Oliver to love jazz too. Indeed, Oliver gets to enjoy monthly jazz magazines James has sent to him which Oliver receives via a mail chute. His only interaction over the years is a remote bot (a voice over), that interacts with him if he requests something i.e. a replacement part that has not yet been discontinued.
Twelve years go by, then there is an urgent knock that displaces Oliver and his contented isolation. Claire, who lives across the hall, needs a charge because the advanced Model 5s need charging more frequently or they freeze up, as Claire does, arm lifted in the midst of knocking. Oliver is too jarred by a live interaction intruding on his solipsistic existence to immediately answer the door. When he finally does relent, she is stationary, silent, frozen, and he must pick her up and carry her into his room to charge her up (literally and figuratively). Look for all of the double entendres, sly, winking humor, symbolism and metaphors about human existence, human love, human experience and forever love and happiness.
After Oliver “charges” Claire, she takes the lead, as the female model’s advanced assertiveness prompts her to. She queries him, and finding out about James, understands what has happened, but is empathetic enough to wisely counsel Oliver, sometimes with humorous snark about himself. Additionally, she dispels the competitiveness Oliver has about being the less sleek, smart and advanced model. However, she is less durable, a fault he continually throws in her face. Eventually, as Claire repeatedly returns to borrow his charger, one day she cleverly arranges to stop their routine, knowing the less flexible Oliver will freak out about it. Of course, she is correct, and when he begins to seek her out, their relationship faces a turning point and they are off and running to become more involved with each other’s wants, needs and hopes.
Claire and Oliver’s growing connection is a series of cataclysmic sequences that explode upon the audience’s consciousness. These are taken out of every romantic playbook of “boy meets girl” etc. However, it’s in reversal as Claire is the catalyst. Importantly, there is no equivalence because these robots can’t have emotions, can they? They’re weird, the situation is anomalous, but for the song (“Why Love?”) as a lyrical remembrance at the top of the musical, we don’t quite get it. We think, “OK, theirs is a peculiar and funny meet-up.” Importantly, though they look youthful, they are “discontinued,” seniors in a retirement home, useless, waiting to fall apart (think of “all the lonely people” whether in nursing homes or under sick-bed isolation).
Eventually, the realization hits the audience that they are looking at themselves. There will be an arrow strike into the heart and perhaps the tears or the discomfort will follow, if not at earlier junctures, yet, it will follow. The story and its incredibly coherent, metaphoric rendering in every technical and live-wired aspect (especially performances), by the creatives are designed to penetrate any cynical, hardened emotions and break your heart.
The parallel between Claire and Oliver’s story and variations of our own stings as does the song “Why Love?” sung gorgeously by Duron’s Gil Brantley. The song that James loved (he gave the Gil Brantley record to Oliver), opens the musical and concludes it, a question answering with the question. And we learn its meaning as we know it from our own lives and the journey of Claire and Oliver, as they get to know each other. The irony of these characters and their discoveries about themselves and each other is that we will more readily identify precisely because they are robots. By removing their “humanity,” the intensity of the parallels to human experience crystallizes. You “get it” in revelation, and by then, you are a goner.
Michael Arden’s shepherding of Criss and Shen ingeniously unfolds and stages their relationship dynamic throughout, moving from their box-like, enclosed, limited existence to a forest field, in a nighttime sky of fireflies (an achingly beautiful sequence lit exquisitely by Ben Stanton). Enlightened from their adventurous “road trip,” they go back home with a new, expansive perspective and realization of their deep connection to each other, a duplication of human experience which they can laugh at as robots, yet sorrow over, for it, and they are perishable.
The characters and situation are counterintuitive as are the incredible performances of Criss as the more authentically robotic and Shen’s more progressively human. But by the conclusion both have evolved to decide whether to remember their love or not, knowing there is no way around the second law of thermodynamics. Even robots die. But in this instance, the more durable Oliver will be around with the memories of their love a lot longer than Claire. A decision must be made.
Maybe Happy Ending is not a story about robot love. It is a story about us. Our humanity. Our mortality. Our inability to comprehend loss, and love, and relationships, and other human beings, and emotional pain, and hurt, and tolerance of these experiences, not having the first clue about what they truly are, as we are forced to go through them, sometimes kicking and screaming
If you don’t see Maybe Happy Ending, you are missing an incredible, theatrical event, taking a deep dive into your own humanity through identification with “robots” who just kill it. They will delight, entertain and wreck you emotionally. If that doesn’t appeal, then see it to appreciate its splendiferousness as a gobsmacking, award winning, uniquely, amazing musical.
Maybe Happy Ending runs 1 hour, 45 minutes with no intermission at the Belasco Theatre (111 West 44th Street) until January 2026. https://www.maybehappyending.com/
ENCHANTING, SPELLBINDING, HEART-STOPPING, MOVING, TOUCHING, OVERWHELMING, INTENSE, HEART-RENDING
Maybe Happy Ending runs with no intermission 1 hours 45 minutes. at the Belasco Theatre (131 West 44th Street). https://www.maybehappyending.com/
Jonathan Groff is Phenomenal in ‘Just in Time’
Oftentimes, singers have the gift of reconstituting songs and making them iconic, then become celebrated for doing it. One example is Bobby Darin (1936-1973), who took the droll, sluggish “Mack the Knife” from Kurt Weill’s Three Penny Opera, and with a jazzy, upbeat swing, gave it a reverential life of its own. A singer, songwriter, and actor, Darin ambitiously sang all music styles from swing to folk, from rock and roll to country music. He played three instruments, won two Grammy awards and a Golden Globe in a fifteen year period before he left this earth, only to win more awards posthumously. For his efforts, he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (1990) and the Songwriters Hall of Fame (1999).
The chronicle of his life manifested a candle burning at both ends to accomplish whatever he could in his short lifespan. Just in Time starring Jonathan Groff as Bobby Darin shines a spotlight on what made Darin a consummate performer, as he reinvented his career by adjusting to the times. Key to this production is Groff’s winning, adorable persona and uplifting and empathetic approach to portraying Darin’s mystique.
With an 11-piece band accompanying him and fine orchestrations by Andrew Resnick, this is an incredible show right out of the gate, though the book by Warren Light and Isaac Oliver based on an original concept by Ted Chapin cannot cover all of the salient information about Darin’s life for purists. However, it indeed is enough and a must-see. The exceptional Just in Time, developed and directed by Alex Timbers currently runs until November 30th at Circle in the Square.
To represent Darin’s ethos the production places the star in his favored venue, the nightclub. With set design by Derek McLane, Justin Townsend’s lighting design and Peter Hylenski sound design, Circle in the Square Theatre is transformed into both an exclusive nightclub and swank, intimate cabaret. There, Groff singularly portrays Darin’s trajectory in what has perhaps wrongly been limited as a “jukebox bio musical.”
The stunning sets around which Groff and the cast perform and enact more intimate scenes, open another aspect of the Darin persona. The immersive nightclub with two sections also converts to other settings with the use of a scrim and props. The floor area holds a cabaret-style seating arena where Groff and the others act amidst the patrons seated at tables. The multi-tiered stage of steps includes a dancing area banked on either side by the band, led by Andrew Resnick. Resnick plays piano, and supervises the music he has arranged which is vibrant, updated, resonant and heady.
Groff performs in both areas, but the showpiece numbers are on the higher levels where Darin’s Sirens dance, sing and perform with him in finely tuned, tightly choreographed numbers by Shannon Lewis. Darin’s glittering, alluring assistants include Valeria Yamin, Christine Cornish and Julia Grondin. Interestingly, theirs is an economy of movement as they surround Groff/Darin and join him with verve and style within the multi-levels of the set.
This design is exceptional and reflects the tenor of restraint, an ironic, perhaps meaningful limitation. Darin had severe health issues throughout his life and the knowledge that death was near, a terrible psychological/emotional/physical limitation, nevertheless spurred him on with a driving urgency. Darin pushed himself and everyone around him. He was about, “having a lot of living to do” because of his rheumatic heart. Despite his “mother’s” (the wonderful Michele Pawk), adjurations that the doctor told him nonsense that he would die in his teenage years, Darin took the doctor’s warnings “to heart.” He daily lived with death, and using the warning like a stoic’s “memento mori,” inspired himself to “live to the fullest.”
If anything, that is a theme of Just in Time. It is a riff on the idea that our time is limited and we must make the most of it with the gifts we have, as Bobby Darin did.
Just in Time originated as The Bobby Darin Story, a series of five concerts in 2018 at the 92nd Street Y, starring Groff as Darin. Since then its book and Timbers’ development and direction manifested a production with flowing, urgent forward momentum. Groff/Darin freezes the action with a “snap of his fingers” to add briskly paced narrative humor. These asides and direct addresses to the audience unfold Darin’s life story between upbeat club numbers dated for the time, but redirected for our time via Resnick’s arrangements. The entire production is set up as a series of night-club acts, and a stage performance to familiarize non fans with the man and his career.
However, before we discover Darin’s ambition and death-spur that propelled him, Groff is introduced as himself and assumes the relaxed, dressed to the nines (Catherine Zuber’s costume design), carefree, Groff-styled night-club persona. Groff twits the audience, making them his confidante, grounding it for his future direct addresses that will follow as a device that cycles through Darin’s life events briskly. These cover his childhood, the start of his career writing songs for Connie Frances, their relationship and break-up, his hits, the record company bosses, his revolutionary stylization of “Mack the Knife” and beyond to his relationship and marriage to Sandra Dee, its end, and his reinvention after he goes bankrupt.
As Groff zips and zags through the retrospective of Darin’s too brief life, we follow the whirlwind. Occasionally, we glimpse through the pull back of the curtain into his failing health, as Groff’s Darin initializes the stresses of his broken marriage and the revelation of a family secret that devastated him and most probably impacted his health.
In the opening set up of crooning songs “This Could be the Start of Something Big,” “Just in Time,” and lead in to the story of Darin’s life with the vamp of “Beyond the Sea,” Groff’s interpretations are sensational. Then, the audience is off and running with Groff’s self effacing line, “Whether you’re a fan of Bobby Darin, or one of the twelve people who watched “Mindhunter” – it doesn’t matter how I got you. All that matters is that you’re here and, tonight, you’re mine.”
And no joke, that’s the truth. We go with Groff down Darin’s memory lane, meeting his sweetheart that was not to be, Connie Francis (the sensational Gracie Lawrence), his “sister” always concerned for his health (Emily Bergl), his loving, show business influential “mother” (Michelle Pawk), and wife Sandra Dee (Erika Henningsen), among others who fill in various roles (Joe Barbara, Lance Roberts, Caesar Samayoa). As swiftly and smoothly as the first act spools, the second act covers his relationship with Sandra Dee, giving it short shrift, along with Darin’s political endeavor helping Bobby Kennedy’s presidential campaign. Darin was present at the Ambassador Hotel and suffered another devastation at Kennedy’s death.
The show concludes with Groff/Darin, back in the nightclub where he fits best after a few years of resettlement. As the final capstone song, the production ends with “Once in a Lifetime/That’s All” as Groff powerfully, forcefully pulls out all the stops and his closest family and friends give remarks upon learning of Darin’s death after open heart surgery. Groff concludes with poignant remarks, “Every breath we take is a gift we get to open. It isn’t enough. And yet, it is so much.” Groff back in his own skin, makeup off, in his own robust soul, passionately ends the gobsmacking evening with, “Thanks for spending this time with us. Goodnight. I love you.” And the audience gives love back with a resounding standing ovation.
Just in Time is a fabulous seduction, memorializing the life and times of Bobby Darin through Jonathan Groff’s being and perspective. To say he channels Darin limits the depth of the production. The separation between the men is always present and that is what makes this production rise above a “jukebox bio musical.” None of the songs are jukebox, but reformulated. None of the patter and narrative are crassly biographical, but more at symbolic and synoptic, like a review with song twists to elucidate the events and key turning points throughout Darin’s life. Time and effort have been taken to thoughtfully render the production’s success to a new crowd of Darin fans.
Just in Time runs 2 hours 25 minutes with one intermission at Circle in the Square. https://justintimebroadway.com/
CAROLE DI TOSTI 