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Anika Noni Rose in ‘The Balusters’ a Funny, Brilliant Take-down of the Upwardly Mobile
If every accusation is a projection and people’s duplicity comes out under pressure, David Lindsay-Abaire constructs characters that wear “their truth” on their unwashed sleeves, as they unite together to protect their exclusive, land marked section of town which is a protected island that abuts the housing projects nearby. The LOL world premiere comedy The Balusters, directed expertly by Kenny Leon sports a title that refers to an upright vertical, molded form which provides foundational support in architectural features. This comedy with several points about our history and culture and the hypocrisy that keeps it bolstered runs at the Manhattan Theatre Club through May 24, 2026.
Initially, the topic of balusters is brought up by President Elliot Emerson (the superb Richard Thomas), during the Vernon Point Neighborhood Association Board meeting when he shares that a neighbor is using inferior balusters not up to the grade to maintain the historic look of their land-marked community.
Microcosms of political manipulation are everywhere USA. They are perhaps nowhere more evident than in school boards and neighborhood associations. And they are as plain as day in The Balusters for our delight, as Lindsay-Abaire sets us up to laugh at ourselves. The setting is in Vernon Point, a community whose land-marked homes on the esplanade are gorgeous Queen Annes and other Victorians. The historic styles landscaped with trees, lawns and acreages that are pricey, must abide by the architectural features, materials and design of the period of their first construction. Additionally, like many communities in the US which support institutional racism via redlining and zoning laws, Vernon Point most probably has a zoning acreage limit whose pricier real estate keeps out the “riff raff.”
In other words, purchasing a home in this enclave upholds housing discrimination, one of the most egregious forms of discrimination, regardless of the handful of diverse individuals who may live there. To live there especially if one is DEI is particularly, problematically hypocritical. But doesn’t everyone want to achieve the American Dream, especially if it vaults one into upper class heights? The dream is as flawed as the 9 individuals of the neighborhood association who live there to keep it in place. How can anyone move ahead contentedly, if most have been left behind?
Issues are nuanced at the top of he play as the Venon Point Neighborhood Association Board meeting gets underway, gaveled in by Thomas’ Elliot, the patriarch and gatekeeper of community sanctity. A master of portraying the “hail fellow well met” poseur, Thomas’ folksy, warm, congenial, open-hearted mien belies the negatives we discover about him later in the play. Elliot is assiduous about the esplanade homes’ historic preservation. As the group settles in he discusses his ire at the previous owner of Kyra Marshall’s house which is where the VPNAB meeting is held. Kyra (the wonderful Anika Noni Rose) volunteers to host the meeting, she tells Luz her housekeeper, to establish herself and fit in. As Elliot goes on about Dr. Klein, the previous owner who put ugly aluminum siding on the exterior two months before the homes were land-marked forty-years prior, we realize he is obviously glad that Kyra had it pulled down, restoring the house’s former glory.
Like the community she wishes to fit into, Noni Rose’s Kyra, favors the old styles like Elliot Emerson. Her assiduous attention to living well is evident in her gorgeously appointed, color-coordinated living room and adjoining foyer and dining room, whose table is perennially set with fine china and stemware as most upper middle class owners often do. Derek McLane’s scenic design speaks volumes and symbolizes the director’s thematic vision for The Balusters, as does Emilio Sosa’s costume design which dresses Kyra in attire that is tasteful, appropriate and colorful, and the others in relaxed casual wear. Interestingly, the lighting during scene changes gyrates to mesmerize the audience to focus on the painting of a Black woman surrounded by flowers that turns garish under the striking lighting (Allen Lee Hughes). And Dan Moses Schreier original music and playlist loudly proclaims the themes as a stark warning. Are we listening; are we seeing the nuances?
The restored shingles may have been the sub rosa reason why real estate broker Elliot sold Kyra (a forty-something Black woman with a family), the house which she can easily afford. However Melissa (Jenna Yi), an Asian friend of Kyra’s lives there, and Kyra mentions that along with safety and beauty, the diversity of the community is why she chose Vernon Point. The VPNAB represents a picture-perfect model of diversity that is laughable with most genders and most races represented. In effect this community has achieved a type of admirable perfection on the surface, but as Margaret Colin’s edgy, raw mouthed and sardonic Ruth Ackerman suggests, it is far from perfect. And during the course of the play through various meetings, we find out how imperfect Vernon Point and its inhabitants of houses, as land-marked as the Victorians, don’t want to budge from their positions to change things.
Newbe Kyra isn’t like the others in some aspects. But in other aspects she is just like them and even becomes their “queen.”
The familiar friends, neighbors, and board members push each other’s buttons as they tussle over items which arise concerning safety vs. maintaining the integrity of the historic preservation which of course keeps housing prices higher. Kyra raises a key safety issue about putting up a stop sign because cars speed past a corner and crash into each other at least once a week. This becomes the conflict that moves the play forward creating tension between Elliot and Kyra which gathers momentum as members take sides, research is done and facts are presented to support Kyra’s imperative. Yet, Thomas’ Elliot is eloquent in his arguments against putting up signs which will ruin the picturesque and beautiful esplanade which is becoming a “one-of-a-kind” setting as modernization and commercialization reconfigure the culture of the country, and not in a good way.
The disparity of who the members present themselves to be, and who they are, clarifies by the conclusion with great humor. Nuanced funny insults are swapped as a means of leveraging arguments. Clearly, some egos are obvious like Isaac Rosario (Ricardo Chavira), who protects his construction workers but only to jawbone that they don’t steal packages or do shoddy work, while he pays them less than what they are worth. Mark Esper’s Alan Kirby feels put upon and interrupted by LGBTQ Willow (Kayli Carter). Willow’s PETA stance and ethos rankle both him and Colin’s Ackerman who intentionally flaunts her rabbit coat to Willow to provoke a comment. Brooks Duncan (Carl Clemons-Hopkins) drums the race card in a subtle way while bestowing nuanced racial animus toward a Muslim business owner. Lindsay-Abaire turns this on its head and has someone reveal what is really going on related to his male partner. The result is riotous.
When one in the group is injured in a “crash” as Kyra predicted, the stakes go through the roof and we are shocked at the results which occur at an explosive meeting. Once more events turn the characters upside down in their reveals, especially the clever Elliot and the subtle Kyra caught, like the others in their own hypocrisies and conflicts of interest.
The one-offs and jokes are plentiful. And Marylouise Burke, as always is a shining light with superb timing and adorableness. When she speaks for decency later in the play, the theme rings loudly and clearly through her, as it does through Maria-Christina Oliveras’ Luz whose spilling the beans on Elliot is only topped by her quiet, underplayed comment about Kyra.
At the conclusion we realize that the playwright also selected the title as a symbol to call out foundational institutions, thought patterns and stereotypes which support a way of life that is entrenched in inequality. This is so, despite each of the characters’ assumptions that adhering to political correctness ends stereotypes and indecent behavior that attacks individuals for elements they have no control over (ethnicity, race, gender, age). Whether used or ridiculed, PC is a blind that deflects from dealing with institutional inequities. Cleverly, Lindsay-Abaire takes swipes at everything, especially cultural hypocrisy and human fallibility at not recognizing it. He reveals that decency can’t be shamed or forced upon others, and the use of political correctness as a weapon and ready bludgeon to defend oneself, also is used to deflect and cover a multitude of secret agendas to gain power and influence unjustly and inequitably. Regardless of political party, regardless of using it to act like an example of correctness, it is meaningless because the true intent behind its facade is real, dangerous and corrupt.
The Balusters runs 1 hour 50 minutes with no intermission at the Friedman Theater through May 24. manhattantheatreclub.com.
‘Epiphany,’ Subtle, Understated, Irony, a Review
At the outset of Epiphany by Brian Watkins, directed by Tyne Rafaeli, we hear a thunderous, rumbling, like a breaking apart of the ethers, that signifies something momentous may occur. After all on one level, the title references the traditional yearly celebration after Christmas when the Magi acknowledged the divinity of the Christ child. On the other hand certainly, the play’s themes will stimulate us to have an “epiphany” about our own lives. As we sit in the dark theater, we wait to be moved by what may be some great stirring.
In the shaking and weird roaring noise that lasts a few seconds at the top of the play, we have a chance to peruse Morkan’s (Marylouise Burke) expansive, circular, den-dining room in her idyllic, barn-like mansion somewhere in the woods near a river. The place has been renovated and repainted, long-time friend Ames (the wonderful Jonathan Hadary) reveals during the course of the evening. Two large floor to ceiling windows are set equidistant to the right and left of the central staircase. They look out on an immense tangle of dark, surreal tree limbs and bushes upon which snow falls but never sticks. John Lee Beatty’s set is a magnificent throwback to a former Americana of dark, rich, wood paneled loveliness whose central point is three staircases: one short leap of stairs from the entrance opening onto the main floor, and two massive staircases leading to the second story presumably of bedrooms and a bathroom with a novel Japanese toilet that Freddy (C.J. Wilson) admires.
On January 6th, each year millions celebrate the Epiphany world-wide but not in America, the dinner hostess Morkan informs all her company after they have arrived. She has invited her friends and grand nephew Gabriel (name reference-the angelic messenger who announced the Christ child’s birth) to this unique January 6th dinner party for a celebration of the Epiphany during which her grandnephew will officiate. She doesn’t quite remember the significance of the day but thought it appropriate to have a gathering of friends she hasn’t seen for a long while to celebrate because the date is located in the dark loneliness of winter, after Christmas and the season of light.
However, Gabriel lets his aunt down. He can’t make the party, so he can’t officiate and Morkan is left to be mistress of ceremonies on this occasion, that no one in the group has celebrated before or even understands. However, she tries to guide the festivities and does so humorously in fits and starts. Interestingly, Gabriel makes up for his absence by sending his partner Aran (Carmen Zilles) the symbolic stranger (think “The Dead” by James Joyce that Watkins’ set up suggests). She is the only one to be able to relay something about Epiphany, manifestly suggesting its true meaning of the Magi bringing gifts to the Christ child, and referencing a layered meaning: the confluence of the divine in humanity by the play’s end.
The festivities that Morkan planned, whose order has been sent in an attachment to her friends that no one read, happen with the quirky turn of her mind. As she tries to remember them, she informs the guests that remembering is becoming harder because of her lack of focus. Nevertheless, she takes charge and this lovely evening among individuals not initially friends who become friends unfolds with beauty and poignancy encouraged by Morkan’s generous hospitality, openness and humanity (in divinity).
Watkins via director Rafaeli’s vision, cleverly, ironically misleads us throughout, beginning with the early fanfare to expect “greatness.” However, Watkins sidelines our anticipation for “the momentous” with the humorous interactions of the guests. We listen to Morkan’s prating about why she must confiscate their cell phones to everyone’s horror. To move the “epiphany celebration” along, she suggests they sing the related song. No one knows it.
We relax into the off handed conversational comments as guests help themselves to alcohol. We watch the very visual piano interpretation of a piece by Kelly (Heather Burns) which is a hysterically cacophonous substitute for the song of epiphany that no one learned. And to honor the celebration, Sam (Omar Metwally) brings out a galette des rois he has prepared, explaining someone must go under the table to call out who gets the first slice. Additionally, Sam shares that all must look for the surprise inside which if they find it, means they are the King or Queen of the celebration. Ames volunteers to go under the table and call out a name. And then we forget about him when Sam and Aran discuss the finer points of empiricism and the ineffable which are relational to the miracle of the epiphany.
And just when we think the play is about to take a really profound turn, Morkan shuffles up the cards and calls out “Who wants a slice of the galette.?” What occurs is the comical high point point of the production, seamlessly directed by Rafaeli and enacted by Jonathan Hadary’s Ames, Marylouise Burke’s Morkan and the others, like Loren (Colby Minifie) who stem the bleeding and help quell the chaos.
By the time the food arrives on the table, we understand that something fascinating is going on. The shining moments of meaning that signify joy that the tradition encourages should happen happen. Indeed, much happens in the apparent little insignificances. Individuals listen and respond to each other and enjoy each other. The moments move serendipitously during the evening of this diverse, wacky group of individuals who have been divorced from their phones by Morkan so they can relate to each other in a live, spontaneous interactive dynamic. That alone is miraculous for her to insist upon, and of course, grandly funny.
As the food is passed around and they comment the goose is dark, toward the end of the meal the subject turns into the years one has yet to live. And as Ames recalls a humorous story, at the end of it Morkan’s revelations about her sister abruptly emerge. They are still a shock to her and they are a shock to her friends who begin to understand Morkan’s comments about lack of focus and her need for company during the darkest time of the year.
Nevertheless, continuing the celebratory spirit, Morkan, ever the thoughtful hostess brings out the dessert which she insists they eat. And it is during the dessert, she explains the devastation she has been feeling, the need of forgiving herself and the importance of forgiveness in her life, in everyone’s lives. These feelings which she shares are made all the more real for herself and her friends in their public revelation. Her deeply intimate confession touches their hearts and is codified by Aran as an “epiphany.” The theme of revelation coalesces into the symbolism of the miraculous that Morkan seeks. And the recognition of her friends to celebrate the Epiphany the following year as a tradition indicates that they seek that divine in humanity in the sharing of community. The last moments are particularly heart wrenching.
This is one to see for the terrific ensemble work and smart, smooth direction by Rafaeli, the sets, humorous moments and atmospheric tone poetry suggested by the lighting among other elements. Kudos to Beatty for his sets, Montana Levi Blanco for costumes, Isabella Byrd for lighting, Daniel Kluger for original music and sound. Epiphany runs with no intermission and ends July 23rd. Don’t miss it. For tickets and times go to their website: https://www.lct.org/shows/epiphany/
The Mindblasting Ethan Hawke and Paul Dano Cave to Primal Hatreds and Private Desolations in Sam Shepard’s ‘True West’
(L to R): Ethan Hawke, Paul Dano in Roundabout Theatre Company’s ‘True West,’ by Sam Shepard, directed by James Macdonald (Joan Marcus)
True West by Sam Shepard is a tour de force which easily reveals actors’ talents or their infelicities. Indeed, it may be a devastating on-stage nightmare if the actors’ skills do not resonate with a fluid “moment-to-moment” dynamic that sits precariously on the knife-edge of emotional chaos and crisis. This is especially so in Act II of Shepard’s True West which is currently in revival at the American Airlines Theatre on 42nd Street, starring the consummate Ethan Hawke and Paul Dano. Both actors rise to the pinnacle of their skills surfing their own moment-to-moment impulses in this sense-memory tearing, emotional slug-fest of a play about siblings. This is a glorious, shattering production thanks to Hawke and Dano who once more prove to be among the great actors of their generation. If Shepard is apprised of this production in another realm of consciousness, surely he is thrilled.
The arc of True West‘s development reveals Shepard’s acute examination of brothers Lee and Austin who wrangle and rage against each other to finally emerge from the emotional and familial folkways they’ve spun into their own self-fabricated prisons. The second act especially (the first act is more expositional and slower paced) screams with the taut, granular impact of subtly shifting, increasingly augmenting collisions of the mind, will and emotions of the older, social outcast and thief Lee (portrayed with dark tension, authenticity, humanity by Ethan Hawke) and the younger, ambitious, middle class Austin (the “mild-mannered” Dano seethes with fury and sub rosa angst that simmers to a boil). As these two attempt to reconnect after an estrangement, they thinly reconcile, negotiating confrontation and abrasion, while they attempt to deal with personal dissatisfaction. During their reunion, they discover that too far is never far enough to unleash the emotional convolutions, chaos and conundrums of their relationship.
(L to R): Ethan Hawke, Paul Dano in Roundabout Theatre Company’s ‘True West,’ by Sam Shepard, directed by James Macdonald (Joan Marcus)
Of course, Shepard’s searing, dark humor and sardonic irony resides in Lee’s and Austin’s attempt to achieve an inner and outer expurgation. Interestingly, they use each other’s “being” as a battering ram against themselves and their complex, twisted “brotherhood.” And as they pummel and propel themselves “forward” through the charged, electrified atmosphere between them, they disintegrate their inner soul rot and misery. By the conclusion of the play, they have reached their own TRUE WEST. This is brilliantly symbolized and effected by Jane Cox’s Lighting Design, Mimi Lien’s Set Design and Bray Poor’s Original Music and Sound Design.
In the last moments between life, death and resurrection, Lee and Austin stand on the edge of a precipice eyeballing each other with uncertain respect and caution as they assess who they are and what they have wrought together. We realize that they have sought this desert of their creation. That they, by primal impulses, destroyed and trashed everything around them including some of their mother’s prized possessions to get there, is unfathomable to us. It is incomprehensible unless we examine our own self-destructive behaviors. However, their behavior is an achievement necessary to get to who they are. At the least they’ve shed pretense. They are raw creature/creations like the the yapping coyotes that lure pets, grab them and chow down for supper. However, where these characters go from this still point remains uncertain. But the hope is that it will result in a new identity for each, away from the annihilation and alienation of the parents who raised them.
Though Shepard’s play is set in the distant past, the themes and relationship that Hawke and Dano establish is vital, energetic, heart-breaking, mind-blowing, current. Each actor has brought so much of his own grist to Lee and Austin and responds with such familiarity and raw honesty to the other, it is absolutely breathtaking. It remains impossible not to watch both and be in awe of their craft. One is utterly engaged in the suspense of where the brothers’ impulses will take them as they scrape and claw at each other’s nerve endings to create bleeding wounds.
Ethan Hawke (standing) Paul Dano in Roundabout Theatre Company’s ‘True West,’ by Sam Shepard, directed by James Macdonald (Joan Marcus)
Thanks go to James Macdonald’s direction and staging to facilitate Dano’s and Hawke’s memorable portrayals. With extraordinary performances like theirs, we are compelled to consider the characters, and determine how and why they are smashing each other’s personal boundaries to reveal inner resentments, hurts, and the chaotic forces that have swamped each of them in the most particular ways. The ties that bind them run so deep these two are oxymorons. They have identical twin souls, though they are externally antithetical. Why they clash is because they are like minded: raging, though controlled. Their emotions, like subterranean lava flows wait for the precise moment to explode and change the landscape around them. Lee is the more mature volcano; but his earthquakes create the chain reaction that stirs Austin’s. No smoke and mirrors here; just raw power.
As a perfect foil to spur the play’s development Gary Wilmes portrays Saul Kimmer, the producer hack who smarmes his way into Austin’s heart, then dumps him because he will not exact a devil’s bargain which Austin refuses to accept. Austin’s rejection of the “bargain,” enragese Lee. Wilmes is appropriately diffuse and opaque. Where does he really stand? What happened to make him turn on a dime regarding hiring Austin who has invested sweat equity and emotional integrity in a project Kimmer professed interest in? Wilmes is both authentic and the Hollywood “type,” to drive Lee and Austin against each other.
Likewise, as a foil, Marylouise Burke is LOL hysterical but frightening as their quirky mother. Her responses to their behavior are hyperbolic in the reverse and they speak volumes about how this family “functioned” in the past. She, too, helps to engine the suspense as Austin takes his power over Lee and she remains sanguine. All of the audience who are parents and especially those who have avoided the role are screaming silently in horror as the two “have at one another.” The situation and their confrontation is insane and humorous. Burke is perfect in the role as non-mediator. And Macdonald has done a magnificent job of balancing the tone and tenor of the last scene. As a result, Burke, Hawke, Dano deliver the lightening blow that helps us to realize the brothers’ intentions and the result of where they find themselves at the finale.
Ethan Hawke (standing) Paul Dano in Roundabout Theatre Company’s ‘True West,’ by Sam Shepard, directed by James Macdonald (Joan Marcus)
So much of the production resides in these incredible portrayals, of Lee and Austin’s devolution into the abyss to come to an epiphany. Caught up with that, one may overlook the artistic design. But it is so integral for it reveals the family and reflects the dynamic interactions. Superb, for example are the sound effects which augment in intensity, the frame of lights contrasting the stage into darkness for set changes, the homely, well-ordered kitchen and alcove writing area, the lovely plants and their “growth” (a field-day for symbolists), and the props. The toasting scene is just fabulous. Kudos go to Mimi Lien (Set Design) Kaye Voyce (Costume Design) Jane Cox (Lighting Design) Bray Poor (Original Music & Sound Design) Tom Watson (Hair & Wig Design) Thomas Shall (Fight Choreographer).
Sam Shepard’s play is a powerful revelation of brotherly love and hate, its design and usefulness. At the heart of our global issues resides familial relationships. To what impact on the whole is the sum of its parts? To what extent do families foment their own hatred upon themselves and the culture to exacerbate the issues? Likewise, what of families who love each other? The interplay between families and society is present but understanding it remains elusive and opaque. Shepard attempts clarity. Certainly, Lee points out that family relationships are high stakes and sometimes the warring relatives kill each other. Certainly, Austin points out that he and Lee will not kill each other over a film script. But he underestimates how far he or Lee are willing to go. How far are any of us willing to go if pushed by a relative?
Life’s uncertainty, as in the best of plays is all about surprise and not knowing what will happen in the next moments. This production of True West lives onstage because the actors are immersed in the genius of acting uncertainty that is always present. Most probably, their performance is different daily because the actors have dared to breathe out the characters whose souls they have elicited. Just W.O.W! (wild, obstreperous, wonderful)
See True West before it closes on 17 March. It runs with one intermission at the American Airlines Theatre on 42nd Street between 7th and 8th. You can get tickets at their website HERE.
CAROLE DI TOSTI 