Relatively Speaking, the Broadway trifecta of one-act plays by three celebrated authors (Ethan Coen, Elaine May, and Woody Allen), is, like most nights in the theater where there are too many artistic cooks in the kitchen, a mixed bag. Jewish humor has never been so funny and at times, so creaky, in these seemingly unrelated afterthoughts, the only standout (and admittedly still weak by his standards) being Woody Allen's piece. Taking place at a cheap motel right after a wedding of questionable predicaments, the playwright goes old school with a large ensemble and a plot which sustains zaniness and a sense of energy that the two other plays lack (wisely, director John Turturro has Allen's play go on last). By the time a rabbi enters and the pizza comes, all hell has broken loose. It's a rather light work, but after the other two plays, Coen's aiming for something inherently parental and May's possessive traits of a dark comedy, a divorce drama, and yes, more parental neglect, it's a welcomed smooth trip to curtain call. There are some B list celebrities on display here (Mark Linn-Baker, Julie Kavner, etc.) but only Steve Guttenberg and, in May's piece, Marlo Thomas, get the showy roles that audiences are likely to remember. This may not sound like much praise, but everyone does what they can. While not a complete misfire, Relatively Speaking unfortunately feels like light conversation fodder, something these talented writers put together on autopilot to have their game actors bring to life. It only partially works.
The questionably titled musical On A Clear Day You Can See Forever is certainly one of the stranger shows to be mounted on Broadway in quite some time. For some critics, this has been a reason for its failure. For myself, the musical goes so far into implausibility and unexplainable absurdness that it becomes something commendable: a bizarrely earnest look at radical psychology in 1974. Yes, it's costumes and set and lighting design all scream 1960s flower power, but here is a narrative where the free-natured feel of the peace era influence all successive spirits. And I say "spirits" because of a paranormal twist the musical takes about a third of the way through. Let me briefly give you the set-up: in an attempt to quit smoking, a gay man, lover of flowers and cigarettes, agrees to go under hypnosis for a cult figure of sorts, a doctor who is admired by his students but who can't over the loss of his recently deceased wife. Once the session begins and he is out cold, the subject starts speaking in a woman's voice, a woman that, over twenty-five years ago was a sexy waitress/singer that hit it big before dying in a plane crash. This woman apparently did exist, but neither the patient nor the doctor know it (yet). The doctor speaks with this woman through his male patient, getting to know and yes, fall in love with, this presumable body-jumper. Is she being reincarnated through this chain-smoking patient? Or is the doctor falling for the helpless man hypnotized on the couch? Freudian for sure, the doctor is either a repressed homosexual (he sexually desires this female spirit, even if she only speaks — and sings! — through a twentysomething year old man) or a believer in the ever present afterlife. And wouldn't you know it, on the exact date the patient was born, the female singer died in that horrible plane crash. Maybe her soul did take on a new form......The audience sees what the doctor doesn't: a beautiful, charming woman. All he sees is a clonked out man. At one point, in a meeting between doctors, an older gentleman states that in order to turn a gay patient straight, he once suggested he go home and sleep with a woman. Subtext! I suppose I should comment on the songs, which, although none are particularly amazing, all fulfill their serviceable requirements, but if the plot doesn't do it for you, nothing will. Harry Connick, Jr., as the lovesick doctor, plays the material mostly straight (ahem), and he really goes for broke, that is, broken insanity, in the show's second half. Once he tries to summon his patient back to his office via mind control, all bets are off. Its ensemble cast, representing what the cast of Hair may have looked like had they gone to college, is uniformly excellent and groovy. They display Three's Company-like wardrobes and make it through to see another day. Listen, this show is definitely ridiculous, but thank God for that. It's a funny show with its heart on its sleeve and it isn't out to disturb anyone outside of say, Rick Santorum.Relatively Speaking: Not Recommended
On A Clear Day You Can See Forever: Recommended
No comments:
Post a Comment