Fallen Angels (Roundabout Theatre Company)

By Harry Forbes

Though not quite in the exalted league of Noël Coward classics like “Private Lives” and “Design for Living,” his 1925 comedy “Fallen Angels” still sparkles with the playwright’s signature wit. Roundabout Theatre Company has mounted a sumptuous revival, directed with style by Scott Ellis.

Kelli O'Hara and Rose Byrne — fresh off Byrne’s Oscar-nominated turn in “If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You” — star as Julia and Jane, the sophisticated friends originally played by Tallulah Bankhead and Edna Best.

Years earlier, both women had affairs with the same French Lothario, Maurice — and, daringly for its era, the play leaves little doubt that the relationships were far from platonic. When Maurice announces by post that he is coming to London to see them, the now-settled wives are thrown into romantic turmoil. As the anticipated reunion fails to materialize, Julia and Jane drink themselves into a deliciously comic stupor, unleashing volleys of brittle, bitchy repartee.

Meanwhile, their husbands — Fred (Aasif Mandvi) and Willy (Christopher Fitzgerald) — remain blissfully oblivious, off golfing while emotional chaos reigns at home. Hovering nearby is Julia’s overly precociouis maid Saunders, played with excellent comic timing by Tracee Chimo.

The cast is uniformly strong. O’Hara, so often cast as poised and proper heroines (with “Days of Wine and Roses” a notable exception), gets a welcome opportunity to flaunt her comic gifts. Byrne, meanwhile, is especially hilarious in the latter half of the brisk, intermissionless 90-minute adaptation. (The original play ran three acts.) Fitzgerald delivers his usual amusing work, while Mark Consuelos makes an appealing late entrance as the elusive French charmer.

David Rockwell’s lavish drawing-room set for Julia and Fred’s London home is plushly opulent, beautifully illuminated by Kenneth Posner. Jeff Mahshie contributes stylish period costumes that add greatly to the production’s visual appeal. John Gromada’s sound design is generally unobtrusive, though occasional audibility issues suggest that a touch more sound enhancement might not have gone amiss.

In the end, this revival of “Fallen Angels” may amount to decidedly lightweight entertainment, but enjoyably so all the same.

(Todd Haimes Theatre, 227 W 42nd St.; roundabouttheatre.org; through June 7)

Photo by Joan Marcus: (l.-r.) Kelli O’Hara, Mark Consuelos, and Rose Byrne

Zack (Mint Theater Company)

By Harry Forbes

The Mint has followed up last season’s superlative revival of Lancashire playwright Harold Brighouse’s “Garside’s Career” with a lesser Brighouse work, but in its way, still a charmer, his 1916 comedy “Zack.”  The play has been revived three times by the Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester, the first time with an impressive cast including Patricia Routledge, Trevor Peacock, and Lindsay Duncan. 

The titular character, played here by Jordan Matthew Brown, is a sweet natured loafer treated with dismissive disdain by his widowed mother Mrs. Munning (solid Melissa Maxwell) and arrogant brother Paul (David T. Patterson nailing his character’s villainy) who runs the family’s faltering catering business. 

Mrs. Munning sets her sights on her well-heeled niece Virginia (aka Jenny) (Cassia Thompson) for Paul, and invites the young woman to stay with them as she convalesces after a recent illness. But it’s clear from the start that it’s the uncalculating Zack who charms her with his guileless ways.

Complications ensue when Paul coldly sacks worker Joe Quigley (superbly gruff Sean Runnette), when the latter suffers a broken arm. Before long, Joe bursts in, hellbent on revenge, one that will involve forcing Zack to marry Joe’s lovelorn daughter Martha (Grace Guichard). 

Brown makes an impossibly clueless (and frequently annoying) character tolerable, and Thompson is a constant delight in her highly sympathetic role. (The dynamic between Zack and Jenny will remind seasoned theater and filmgoers of the central characters of Brighouse’s most famous play, “Hobson’s Choice.”) 

There’s good work too from Caroline Festa as Sally, the pretend-maid hired by Mrs. Munning to impress the wealthy Jenny, and Guichard as Martha who engage in a second act verbal slugfest over Zach. David Lee Huỳnh and Douglas Rees round out the excellent cast as Joe’s cronies. 

If I have a gripe, it’s that British accents, particularly of the Northern variety, so essential in Brighouse’s works, are curiously eschewed here. As a result, the play loses much of its texture, and the dialogue sometimes has a flatness without the Lancashire lilt. The essentials of the play are all intact but could have been that much more characterful. If you’re curious, you can hear a more authentic sounding performance in this vintage BBC Radio version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7yPVKVzptA&t=237s

That said, Britt Berke directs a tight performance -- one hour and 45 minutes without intermission -- with attractive contributions from Brittany Vasta (sets), Kindall Almond (costumes), and Jane Shaw (sound & arrangements).

(Theatre Row, 410 West 42nd Street; bjany.org;  through March 28)

Photo by Todd Cerveris: (l.-r.) Cassia Thompson, Jordan Matthew Brown

Art (The Music Box)

By Harry Forbes

Yasmina Reza’s 1994 crowd-pleasing comedy about art and friendship has gotten a first-rate revival 29 years after Christopher Hampton’s translation from the original French premiered in London in 1996. 

I saw that West End production with its gold chip cast of Albert Finney, Tom Courteney, and Ken Stott, replaced by a panoply of other top name actors who fitted the play to their respective personalities. The 1998 Tony-winning Broadway production with Alan Alda, Victor Garber, and Alfred Molina also led to a succession of excellent replacements.

And now this revival -- skillfully directed by Scott Ellis - joins its distinguished predecessors. The plot revolves around three longtime friends whose relationship starts to unravel when Serge (Neil Patrick Harris) pays an enormous price for an abstract painting -- for all intents and purposes, a white canvas -- to the contemptuous amazement of Marc (Bobby Cannavale) who can’t resist derisive laughter when he’s first shown the canvas and learns the astronomical pricetag. When Marc attempts to enlist their mutual friend Yvan (James Corden) to his point of view, the latter tries in vain to remain steadfastly neutral. 

Eventually, bitter resentments surface and midway through, when Yvan is late for a dinner date with the others, the complacent Yvan delivers a tour-de-force hysterical monologue explaining his tardiness, and earning Corden well-deserved applause. 

Nothing else reaches that emotional peak, and Corden’s performance is really spectacularly good here, but Harris and Cannavale provide excellent and highly accomplished contrast, Harris petulantly offended by Marc’s response, and Cannavale, neatly balancing his character’s vulnerability and outward bluster. 

Several critics seem to be finding “Art” a lightweight and dated trifle, but I think Reza crafted a superb 100-minute vehicle that has held up brilliantly. Finney, Courtney and Stott brought a different vibe to the text, but the balance of humor and pathos is equally potent here, and Reza’s work remains satisfying as ever. 

The current design team provides a sleek, contemporary look, including David Rockwell set design (the three men’s apartments) brightly lit by Jen Schriever, while Linda Cho’s apt costumes, Mikaal Sulaiman’s sound design and Kid Harpoon’s music are likewise first-rate.

(The Music Box, 239 W 45th St; Telecharge or 212-239-6200; through December 21)

Photo by Matthew Murphy: (l..r.) James Corden, Neil Patrick Harris and Bobby Cannavale

English (Roundabout Theatre Company)

By Harry Forbes

I didn’t catch Sanaz Toossi’s 2022 play about four students taking an English proficiency course in Iran when it played the Atlantic (in a co-production with Roundabout). But now, here it is on Broadway under the auspices of Roundabout, after winning the Pulitzer Prize for drama in 2023. And a very worthy play it is.

It took several minutes to engage me, as I feared the humor of the piece would have rather too much to do with the stumbling malaprops of the native Farsi speaking students. But as “English” progresses, Toossi’s themes of language and how it impacts one’s sense of national identify and native culture becomes clear and profound. 

Right from the start, you tune into Toossi’s clever device of having the cast speak in unaccented English when they are, in fact, speaking Farsi. But when they attempt their often fractured English, they speak with an accent. We get a sense of their "real" selves through the former.

The time is 2008, and their instructor is Marjan (Marjan Neshat) who has lived in Manchester, England for nine years, before returning to her native Karaj. She insists that only English be spoken in the classroom, but the role is frequently broken by her frustrated pupils.

The students, ostensibly there to prepare for the Test of English as a Foreign Language (TOEFL) exam, include Elham (Tala Ashe) who, as we soon learn, has already failed that test several times. She resents having to learn English but is determined to work in Australia in the field of gastroenterology. Roya (Pooya Mohseni), older than the others, needs to learn English so she can join her son and grandchild in Canada, and not embarrass her son who, it seems, disdains his Iranian heritage. And Goli (Ava Lalezarzadeh), a cheerful 18 year old who simply believes English will be a useful tool in the future. Her elucidation of Ricky Martin’s “She Bangs” song, her contribution to a “show and tell” exercise, is the play’s comic highpoint. 

Quite different than the rest is the one male student Omid (Hadi Tabbal), whose English is far better than all the others but says he recognizes his shortcomings in the language. He and Marjan bond over their mutual enjoyment of Western rom-coms like “Notting Hill” and “Moonstruck,”  which Marjan screens in her office to learn greater proficiency. Along the way, an unstated affection grows between them. 

In the classroom, tensions build as the female students wonder whether the struggle to learn English is worth it, at the same time they ponder whether they stand to lose more than they gain from immersing themselves in a language so removed from their own. Tellingly, though, Marjan reveals at one point that she likes herself better in English.

All of this is absorbing and thought provoking and Knud Adams directs with great sensitivity. The cast is uniformly excellent.

The action plays out on Marsha Ginsberg’s revolving box set which allows us to see everything from different angles though occasionally the vertical beams that limn the classroom, block our view of the action; ditto some of the furniture. Reza Behjat’s lighting subtly delineates the time of day. And there is a superbly effective use of music (mostly piano) to cover the scene changes which complement the emotional mood of the preceding scene, and balances the plainness of the classroom setting. . Likewise, a swelling symphonic interlude near the end makes the action before and after even more poignant. 

(Todd Haimes Theatre, 227 West 42nd Street; roundabouttheatre.org or 212-719-1300; thrugh March 2)

Hold On to Me Darling (Lucille Lortel Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

I didn’t catch Kenneth Lonergan’s play when it ran at the Atlantic Theater Company in 2016, but the current revival -- directed, like the last, by Neil Pepe, and featuring three of the original company -- is a winner, and another feather in the cap of Adam Driver. He takes the lead role of country singer Strings McCrane who returns home to Beaumont, Tennessee. for his mother’s funeral.

Driver is no stranger to New York theater, and has played an impressive variety of roles in plays by Shaw, Rattigan, Osborne, and Lanford Wilson, but in spite of his ever-growing film fame, he hasn't given up on stage work. And as with his previous film and theater roles, he again proves how skillfully he can completely transform himself to the character at hand

HIlariously self absorbed and self-pitying, and prey to any woman who sympathizes with him, Strings falls for the flattery and idolatry of masseuse Nancy (spot on Heather Burns) sent to his hotel room to relieve his stress. And later, at the funeral home, he finds himself inexorably drawn to Essie (Adelaide Clemens, also marvelous), the lovely second cousin he barely noticed before. And throughout it all, his puppy dog adoring assistant Jimmy (Keith Nobbs) is always on hand to do his bidding. He’ll also reconnect with his half brother Duke (CJ Wilson) who leads what now appears to Strings to be an enviably “normal” life. And ultimately, he’ll get to meet the father (Frank Wood) he hasn’t seen since his parents divorced when he was eight. 

Lonergan writes characters that you care about, and the situation is enormously entertaining. Despite Strings’ immense fame as a singer and film star, he insists he wants to give it all up, and go back to the simple life. Driver’s lovable sincerity and basic innocence make the premise plausible, and he makes Srrings consistently endearing despite the character’s inherent narcissism. 

Clemens, Nobbs and Wilson are reprising their original roles, and they are all terrific. Together with newbies Burns and Wood, they create an impeccable ensemble. The production team is largely the same: Walt Spangler’s revolving set which encompasses a variety of settings deftly, with Suttirat Larlarb and Lizzie Donelan’s character accurate costumes, and David Van Tieghem’s excellent sound design and music.

Pepe’s direction is perfectly judged as the play balances humor and poignancy. And he guides his cast expertly throughout. 

My performance lasted considerably longer than the two hour and 40 minutes originally stated, but was never less than fully absorbing.

(Lucille Lortel Theatre, 121 Christopher St.; HoldOnToMeDarling.com; through December 22)

Photo by Julieta Cervantes: (l.-r.) Heather Burns and Adam Driver

The Roommate (Booth Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

What a pleasure to watch those two pros, Mia Farrow and Patti LuPone, at the top their respective games in Jen Silverman’s funny two-hander about Robyn, a hard-nosed lady from the Bronx with a mysterious past (that’s LuPone) who comes to room with Farrow’s uber-naive Iowa widow Sharon. 

There are abundant laughs as these two diverse personalities knock up against each other, and Sharon is continually shocked and awed by Robyn’s progressive ways; she’s (goodness!) gay and vegan for starters. But for all of the sitcom-like pleasure of the basic situation, there’s substance here, and the play has real poignancy as it progresses. It premiered at the 2015 Humana Festival in Louisville, and was produced at the Williamstown Theatre Festival in 2017.

Sensibly, the stars get their initial bows over with right at the start, and then return for their “real” entrances as the play proper begins unimpeded by audience applause. 

Farrow’s character may be the mousy one, at least at first, but there’s nothing lacking in her stage dynamism. She was last on Broadway in 2014 for a brief run of “Love Letters” with Brian Dennehy, and she was first-rate. Here, she has some wonderfully funny moments -- watch her Sharon take her first swallow of almond milk -- but also highly moving ones, and she, like LuPone, creates a solidly believable character despite plot improbabilities. 

The naive Sharon has what Robyn and we the audience clearly discern is a gay dress designer son living in Park Slope, and we shortly learn that more about Robyn’s familial connections, and her mysterious past. Both women know exactly how to play for laughs and then scale back for the dramatic moments. Farrow is particularly touching in the final scenes of the play.

I hesitate to say too much about the plot which runs without an interval in a single act for about one hour and 45 minutes. Better to experience each revelation when it comes. But it’s not too much of a spoiler to say that the two ladies do eventually bond in a most unexpected and. for Sharon at least, positive, way. 

Though Silverman’s plot is largely predictable, it’s the kind of predictability that tickles the funny bone and satisfies. 

All of this plays out on Bob Crowley’s very attractive airy open house set (no walls or ceiling). Natasha Katz’s character-defining costumes are spot on. Mikaal Sulaiman’s sound design is natural and clear. The evocative underscoring is by David Yazbek. And the whole is masterfully directed by that Jack O’Brien. 

(Booth Theatre, 222 West 45th Street; theroommatebway.com; through December 15)

Photo by Michael Murphy: (l.-r.) Patti LuPone & Mia Farrow

Table 17 (MCC Theater)

By Harry Forbes

Former partners Jada (Kara Young) and Dallas (Biko Eisen-Martin) meet at a restaurant for a reunion under the sardonic eye of the supercilious maitre d/waiter River (Michael Rishawn) in Douglas Lyons amusing and ultimately touching comedy.

Smartly and resourcefully directed by Zhailkon Levingston on Jason Sherwood’s chicly adaptable set configured like the Bianca’s eatery at which the action transpires (the first rows of the theater have been replaced by tables for audience members), the play is a solid showcase for three very appealing performances. (A porgram insert, incidentally, is cutely designed as a menu in keeping with the show’s setting.)

Young follows up her brilliant work as Lutiebelle in last season’s “Purlie Victorious” with another bravura performance. Her brash Jada conceals a vulnerable creature hurt by the past events we learn as the evening transpires. She gets the laughs where appropriate but also shows us the touching heartbreak beneath the bravado. Eisen-Martin’s aspiring music producer Dallas matches her sensitivity beautifully, and their scenes together play out with convincing naturalness, by turn awkward, bitter, and tender in their interactions. Rishawn impresses in his multiple roles demonstrating easy versatility as he morphs from campy waiter to Jada’s former coworker and other roles. 

The play is punctuated by several flashbacks which fill in the backstory, as well as brief audience asides where these characters express their inner thoughts a bit reminiscent of O’Neill’s “Strange Interlude.” A pivotal Christmas episode, an airport mixup, and a breakup confrontation are particularly well done.

All the production elements are fine including Devario D. Simmons’ costumes, Ben Stanton’s lighting, and Christopher Darbassie’s clear sound design. 

We’ve seen this general story before, and occasional stretches of dialogue are a tad conventional, but overall, Lyons’ comic voice is distinctive, as was clear with his Broadway debut play, “Chicken and Biscuits,” and there are, in any case, a couple of unexpected twists in the narrative which keep things even more interesting. 

(MCC Theater’s Susan & Ronald Frankel Theater,  511 W 52nd Street; mcctheater.org/tix/; hrough September 29)

Photo by Daniel J Vasquez: (l.-r.) Biko Eisen-Martin, Kara Young

Purlie Victorious: A Non-Confederate Romp Through the Cotton Patch (The Music Box)

By Harry Forbes

If there were any doubts about the wisdom of reviving Ossie Davis’ 1961 play, as opposed to "Purlie," the excellent 1970 musical adaptation, especially as the current production stars such a fine singing actor as Leslie Odom, Jr., they are quickly dispelled from the show’s first joyful and funny moments. 

For the straight version proves a very worthy property in its own right, and doesn’t even seem at all dated as many other comedies of this vintage might. Odom is completely commanding in his bravura performance as a traveling preacher trying to secure the local church Old Bethel, and throw off the yoke of the blithely bigoted Ol' Cap'n Cotchipee who exploits the black workers on his Georgia plantation.

Purlie hatches a scheme to have Lutiebelle, an innocent country girl, impersonate his long-lost cousin who was rightly owed an inheritance of $500. Lutiebelle is played by the wondrous Kara Young, who impresses mightily yet again after her outstanding comedic and dramatic turns in “Clyde’s” and “Cost of Living.” 

Odom and Young’s performances are part of an impeccably cast ensemble: Billy Eugene Jones is his obsequious brother Gitlow with Heather Alicia Simms as Gitlow’s sensible wife Missy; Jay O. Sanders is the bigoted Ol’ Cap’n Cotchipee, with Noah Robbins his meek but enlightened son Charlie, and Vanessa Bell Calloway the sassy servant who has raised Charlie on the right racial path. The performances are all gems.

Kenny Leon’s direction is fast-paced and masterfully balances the hilarious comedy with the underlying serious themes (unfortunately still relevant after all these decades). The production credits are all first-rate, including Derek McLane’s set which serves as Purlie’s shack, the village commissary, and then wondrously transforms into a church in the final scene. Emilio Sosa’s character perfect costumes, Adam Honoré’s atmospheric lighting, and Peter Fitzgerald’s well balanced sound design. 

I’ll be anxious to rewatch the movie version titled “Gone Are the Days,” with many of the original cast including Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, which used to be a TV staple, but I did relisten to the musical’s cast album. Peter Udell’s lyrics and Gary Geld’s tunes capture the play’s characters and themes exceedingly well.

Even so, the current revival, sans musical numbers, comes across just as exuberant, heartwarming and hilarious. Highly recommended, but hurry, as the revival closes this weekend.

(The Music Box, 239 West 45th Street; PurlieVictorious.com, Telecharge.com or 212-239-6200; through February 4) 

Photo by Marc J. Franklin: Leslie Odom, Jr. & Kara Young

Topdog/Underdog (Golden Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

Suzan-Lori Parks’ Pulitzer Prize-winning 2001 play, essentially concerning brotherly love and family identity, and imbued with a symbolism that is never heavy-handed, is now enjoying a highly absorbing 20th anniversary revival. 

The narrative concerns whimsically named brothers Lincoln and Booth uneasily living together in a single room where they plot an uncertain future and rehash their painful past. This production features two absolutely superb performances from Corey Hawkins and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II in roles originated by Jeffrey Wright and Don Cheadle at the Public Theater. (Mos Def assumed Cheadle’s role when the play opened on Broadway the following year.)

I didn’t see that production, but I can’t imagine that the roles’ originators could have been better than the present cast who balance comedy and underlying sadness with masterful aplomb. 

Elder brother Lincoln (Hawkins) works in an arcade as, with supreme irony, a white-face Abraham Lincoln impersonator where patrons can pretend to reenact the latter's assassination; his brother Booth (Abdul-Mateen) is a shoplifting hustler who’s never had a real job in his life, but dreams of joining forces with his big brother Lincoln who had previously excelled as a three-card monte con artist, bilking passers-by with enviable skill. (in fact, Booth announces with total solemnity that he wants to change his name to 3-Card.)

Lincoln, however, wants nothing more to do with the cards, though he fears he’s about to be made redundant by a wax likeness of Abe, and rehearses some extra business for his impersonation that just might persuade his employer to keep him. Booth, for his part, returns home wearing layers of spiffy clothes guaranteed to impress the ladies, especially a gal named Grace. His preparations for a date with Grace is a comic high point. 

Along the way, there are sobering revelations about their childhood: abandoned by their parents while the boys were still teenagers and having to fend for themselves. The frequent tonal shifts from the humorous to the poignant are masterfully handled by the two actors under the assured direction of the great Kenny Leon.

The enactments of the much discussed card scam, played out on a sheet of cardboard over a couple of milk crates in full view of the audience, are authentically executed, a marvel in themselves.

There’s a good deal of interstitial music, some at rock concert decibels. But within the play, Hawkins gets to perform a compelling blues number accompanying himself on guitar. A lovely moment, even though there’s a sinister subtext to the scene.

Arnulfo Maldonado’s claustrophobic and very plausible boarding house set is framed, paradoxically, by an elegant gold curtain  Dede Ayite’s costumes, from Lincoln’s presidential costume to the cool duds shoplifted by Booth are a show in themselves.

So who’s the top dog and who’s the underdog? Lincoln or Booth? Parks keeps us guessing right up to the end, in a most thoroughly entertaining fashion.

Highly recommended.

(Golden Theatre, 252 West 45th Street; Telecharge.com or 212-239-6200; through January 15)

Photo by: Marc J. Franklin: (I.-r.) Corey Hawkins, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II

The Minutes (Studio 54)

 By Harry Forbes

A newly elected city councilman Mr. Peel, a dentist by trade, comes back to the fictional town of Big Cherry after attending a family funeral, and becomes obsessed with the missing minutes of the council’s last meeting held while he was away. And furthermore, he can’t seem to get an answer about what has become of the colleague who seems to have run afoul of the council and is now mysteriously absent. 

Such is the crux of Tracy Letts’ new dark comedy, which premiered at Steppenwolf in 2017, and which started previews here in New York at the Cort Theatre before the pandemic. It has now reopened at Studio 54 with Noah Reid, Patrick on “Schitt’s Creek,” replacing the “cancelled” Armie Hammer, as the curious and increasingly determined newbie. 

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The rest of the council is made up of distinguished alumni of Broadway and Steppenwolf all of whom give finely etched portraits of small-town bureaucrats obsessed with trivialities, all the while demonstrating greed, hypocrisy and self-interest. Playwright Letts plays aptly named Mayor Superba who leads the council meeting and blocks young Peel’s attempts to unearth those minutes. 

The official agenda items include veteran Mr. Oldfield’s desire for a choice parking space after his 39 years on the council (a funny Austin Pendleton); passionate Mr. Hanratty’s proposal to redesign the local fountain and make it handicap accessible (Danny McCarthy); and from Mr. Blake (K. Todd Freeman), the sole African-American on the council, the installation of a “Lincoln Smackdown” attraction at the upcoming Harvest Festival which would feature a martial arts artist dressed as Lincoln. Of considerably more substance is the topic of what’s become of a stash of stolen bikes which have been impounded by the local police. 

Recording secretary Ms. Johnson (Jessie Mueller) prides herself on her professionalism, and seems the nearest to an ally of Peel, but is no more revealing about the missing minutes than anyone else. Long-timer Ms. Innes (Blair Brown), the council’s grande dame, reads a lengthy prepared statement including several bombshell grievances. The comically disorganized Ms. Matz (Sally Murphy) is a hopeless klutz. 

Mr. Superba is flanked by the clearly crooked Mr. Assalone (Jeff Still) and the insensitive and bullying Mr. Breeding (Cliff Chamberlain). And yes, eventually, we do get to see the missing Mr. Carp (Ian Barford who was so good in Letts’ “Linda Vista” a couple of seasons back). 

For all the humor inherent in the council’s deliberations, an ominous thunderstorm periodically wreaks havoc with the town’s electrical grid and the stage is plunged into partial darkness as the lights scarily flicker and dim. There’s extremely realistic work by lighting designer Brian MacDevitt and sound designer André Pluess. And David Zinn’s marvelous set is perfect down to the smallest detail.

Steppenwolf Artistic Director Anna D. Shapiro, who won the 2008 Tony Award for directing Lett’s “August: Osage County” is, of course, superbly attuned to Letts’ worldview and rhythms. 

There’s a hilarious re-enactment by the council members of Big Cherry’s legendary 1872 battle involving marauding Indians and a kidnapped white girl that bears similarity to “The Searchers.” That little set piece within the play earns applause.

Letts is, as we know, one of our finest playwrights, and he has some important things to say here about such hot button topics as racism, white supremacy, and the current vogue for rewriting history. But the comical ineptitude and small town minutiae eventually give way to something considerably more sinister and the play suddenly takes a radical and (intentionally) off-putting tonal shift. I felt this was a dramatic misstep, but on the other hand, try as I might, I can’t come up with any bright ideas about how I’d resolve the play differently.

Flawed or not, the play rates as a major event, well worth seeing.

(Studio 54, 254 West 54th Street; TheMinutesBroadway.com or 212-239-6200; through July 24th) 

Photo by Jeremy Daniel:  Noah Reid (pictured center) with (l to r) Jessie Mueller, Jeff Still, Tracy Letts, Cliff Chamberlain

Plaza Suite (Hudson Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

My apprehension that Neil Simon’s 1968 hit -- three one-acts set in a suite at the Plaza Hotel -- might be hopelessly dated was allayed within moments of stars Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker taking command of the stage. Their understanding of the material and their well-honed comedic skills were brilliantly in evidence. Faint memories of the movie and past productions quickly faded as the stars, under the accomplished direction of John Benjamin Hickey, put their own fresh stamp on the Simon favorite.

This is not to say that the material isn’t very much of its time, but to this production’s credit, all the then-current references to New York are left delightfully intact, and one can approach the production as the well-crafted period piece it is.

I didn’t catch George C. Scott and Maureen Stapleton in Mike Nichols’ original production, but I did see two of their more-than-capable replacements, Peggy Cass and Don Porter, and of course, Stapleton would reprise one of her three roles in the Walter Matthau movie. Rewatching the trailer of the latter on YouTube, the overall approach strikes me as a bit heavy handed compared to Parker and Broderick’s delightfully light touch. 

Each act concerns a different couple, each well differentiated by the pair: suburbanites from Mamaroneck, the wife hoping to rekindle their romance from over two decades earlier when they honeymooned there; an awestruck Tenafly housewife reconnecting with her high school boyfriend, now a famous and more-than-a-bit-sleazy Hollywood producer; and well-to-do Forest Hills parents on their daughter’s wedding day contending with the perplexing situation of the girl locking herself in the bathroom. In each, Jane Greenwood’s costumes and Tom Watson’s hair and wigs add helpfully in the transformations.

The setting is 1968/69 and there are, as indicated, many then-contemporary references: we hear such then-familiar touchstones as Metrocal, the Pepsi Generation, Dr. Joyce Brothers, Radio City’s Easter Show, not to mention all the stars that so impress Muriel in the second playlet. it’s a real time capsule including such circumstances as the recent demolition of the Savoy-Plaza Hotel to make way for the General Motors building.

The revival has the distinction of being the first Simon revival on Broadway since his passing in August of 2018, so it’s all the nicer that it's a good one. The production played a sold-out run in Boston in early 2020, and was set to open on Broadway in March of that year until the theaters were shut down. But there’s nothing stale about the production, and I’m confident Simon would be highly pleased. 

One can admire anew the sharpness of his dialogue and humor, and his uncanny take on human nature. The slapstick elements are the stuff of classic farce, such as the third playlet’s father braving the building ledge to reach the locked bathroom, only to be caught in the pouring rain. 

I really don’t understand the negativity of some of my colleagues. Yes, societal mores have changed, but there is much to enjoy. Above all, it provides a delicious vehicle for its two stars to demonstrate their considerable expertise. 

The design team has done an ace classy job. John Lee Beatty’s handsomely detailed set design earns applause from the get-go, Jane Greenwood’s costumes conjure the era perfectly, and there’s predictably first-class work from Brian MacDevitt (lighting), Scott Lehrer’s (sound), and Marc Shaiman (incidental music)

There’s solid support from Eric Wiegand as a bellman and the recalcitrant daughter’s intended fiancé; Danny Bolero as a waiter; and Molly Ranson as the skittish bride-to-be.

(Hudson Theatre, 141 West 44th Street; 855-801-5876 or PlazaSuiteBroadway.com; through June 26)

Photos by Joan Marcus: Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick

Morning’s at Seven (Theatre at St. Clement’s)

By Harry Forbes

The revelatory 1980 revival of Paul Osborn’s 1939 charmer remains a cherished theatrical memory for those of us who saw it, and the play continued to demonstrate it had legs with yet another excellent Broadway mounting in 2002. Both of those revivals, in fact, ran far longer than the original which only lasted 44 performances.

And here it is again in a lovely Off-Broadway revival holding up as sturdily as ever. 

The plot hinges on painfully shy Homer (Jonathan Spivey) bringing home his longtime (seven years!) finance Myrtle (Keri Safran) to meet his well meaning but overly protective mother Ida (Alma Cervo) and melancholic father Carl (John Rubinstein), the latter afflicted with  perennial midlife crisis, and given to strange spells and wanderings.

Homer’s aunts, Cora (Lindsay Crouse) -- married to Thor (Dan Lauria) -- and the single Arry (Alley Mills), who clearly harbors deep feelings for Thor, live together in the house across the way.  A fourth sister Esther (Patty McCormack) is married to snobbish former professor David (Tony Roberts) who thinks the whole brood, with the singular exception of Carl, are “morons,” and discourages, or more accurately, forbids, his wife to visit her kin.   

Carl holds the deed on the house across town which is promised to Homer if and when he decides to tie the knot with Myrtle. Cora, for her part, covets the house as it could mean a break from Arry. Therein lies the play’s principal conflict.

Carl’s perpetual musings on where he is in life, and how things might have been different had he taken a different direction in the “fork in the road” sums up the existential heart of the play which is deeper than it seems at first glance for all its gentle charms and homespun characters. All of them find themselves yearning for change: Cora, dreaming of a life alone with Thor; Arry, frustrated after a lifetime of being the third cog on the wheel, and Esty, beginning to hanker for freedom from her husband’s dictatorial thumb; and so on. 

Like the two previous major New York revivals, this one has been beautifully cast across the board with everyone just perfect in their roles. Dan Wackerman brings out the best of all of them, and skillfully elucidates Osborn’s themes. Apart from the skill with which everyone handles their parts, there’s the added nostalgia value of fondly recalling so many of them in their earlier film and stage triumphs.

It’s unfair to single anyone out, as each so good, but Alley Mills deserves a special shout-out for so beautifully stepping in for the injured Judith Ivey during rehearsals, and creating a fine, touching character. 

Harry Feiner’s two house set on the spacious St. Clement’s stage makes an attractive backdrop to the action. Barbara A. Bell’s costumes are period perfect, the period being 1922. 

It’s a pleasure to experience such a beautifully constructed play, old-fashioned in the best sense. Osborn’s characters are sharply drawn, and though hardly action packed on the surface, the play’s action grips from start to finish. Another positive aspect of the work is the basic decency of all the characters, despite petty jealousies and strife. All of them are extremely identifiable too. 

Though the 1980 revival was adapted for television by Showtime and PBS, it’s rather remarkable that a feature film was never made from a property which besides its New York stagings has had a robust life in stock and regional theater. 

(Theater at St. Clement’s, 423 W. 46th Street; MorningsAt7.com or Telecharge.com, 212-239-6200; through December 5)

Photos by Maria Baranova: 

(Top) Alley Mills, Lindsay Crouse, Patty McCormack & Alma Cuervo

(Below) Tony Roberts & John Rubinstein

Fairycakes (Greenwich House Theater)

By Harry Forbes

The unfailingly amusing Douglas Carter Beane has written and directed a promising mashup of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” and a handful of fairy tales all turned on their ear in the similar vein of  “Into the Woods”  But on this occasion, the result is an extremely thin diversion that, in greatly condensed form, might have made a nice curtain raiser for something more substantial, perhaps thematically related. 

In fact, I rather expected the second act to be a present day story mirroring the fairy tale characters we had just been watching during the fitfully amusing but not exactly riveting first act. But no, the second act picks up on the action of the first, though there is at least a different sort of twist in store midway through.

Still, on the whole, the second act plays very well and I felt the handful of folks who walked out during intermission would likely have enjoyed themselves if they had stayed.

It helps that Beane has assembled a first rate cast of farceurs including Julie Halson, Jackie Hoffman, and Ann Harada. 

The play is written mostly in verse, and there are some very clever turns of phrase, even if eventually all the rhyming couplets begin to wear.. 

The action is propelled by “Dream’s” Oberon (a dynamic Arnie Burton) and Titania (Halston) deciding to divorce because of the former’s serial philandering. But if they do, the Goddess of the Dawn (Kuhoo Verma) foretells that their daughters will all perish. These include Peaseblossom (an appealing Kristolyn Lloyd), Cobweb (Z Infante), Mustardseed (Ann Harada), and Moth (Jackie Hoffman) who bears some thematic similarities to Tinker Bell.

For her part, Titania is smitten with her handsome young Changeling (James Nanthakumar) in her charge. And before long, the now footloose Oberon encounters the frustrated Virgin Queen Elizabeth (also Halston).

Then there’s Gepetto (Mo Rocca, quite charming) constantly on the hunt for his delinquent creation Pinocchio (Sabatino Cruz). Cinderella (Verma) plays cat and mouse with her handsome Prince (witty Jason Tam who turns up as Cupid), while Sleeping Beauty (Infante) waits for love.

Peasebottom has a love/hate relationship with Puck (Chris Myers) who calls her “Fairycakes.”

And there’s Dirk Deadeye (Burton again), the name borrowed from Dick Deadeye in “H.M.S. Pinafore,” but actually one of the pirates from the “Peter Pan” story. He’s ever on the prowl for love which leads him from Moth to some surprising new territory.

Eventually, all the players are put to sleep, as in “Dream,” to fall in love with the first person they see upon waking, and with predictably unlikely results.

Except for Hoffman and Myers, everyone else gets a double role, and contrasts them skillfully. Halston, with her willowy figure and peerless delivery, is especially fine, as even at her funniest, she always taps into emotional truth.

Tiresome though the antics grow after two hours, Gregory Gale’s costumes are a continual delight, and Shoko Kambara and Adam Crinson have done a commendable job of creating a campily enchanted forest on the smallish Greenwich House Theater stage. Lewis Flinn’s attractive music is another plus.

(Greenwich House Theater, 27 Barrow Street; fairycakestheplay.com; through November 21)

Photos:

(top)

(l.-r.) Kristolyn Lloyd, Z Infante, Julie Halston, Ann Harada, Jackie Hoffman

(below)

(l.-r.) Arnie Burton, Jackie Hoffman