Category Archives: Play

This is Government

There is a mighty fine line between “timely” and “too close to home.”  No one at 59E59 could have predicted that Trump ally and conservative activist Charlie Kirk would be shot and killed a few days after This is Government began previews.  But the horrifying uptick in our political violence had to be on the minds of everyone watching a play about a bomb threat taking place outside a Washington D.C. Senate office building.  While Nina Kissinger has infused her dark subject with humor, it feels too gracious to meet the brittle moment.

Scenic designer Daniel Allen sets the scene within an off-kilter office.  To serve the direction, file cabinets are piled across the back in a staircase formation and the third desk floats chairless mid-stage.  Within these strange walls are the interns for Senator Bachmann whose vote will determine the fate of a critical healthcare funding bill.  Rudderless and crippled by anxiety is recent college grad Emi (Kleo Mitrokostas).  One year younger, Tip (Charles Hsu) is four times more interested in influencing the world through his monologues than within the bureaucratic structure.  Their supervisor is former intern Kaz (Vann Dukes), a non-binary pragmatist with political ambitions of their own.  The three have been receiving regular calls from Stevie (Susan Lynskey), whose pleas to speak with the Senator have grown increasingly frequent and agitated.

Mitrokostas and most of the creative team are resident artists of the New Light Project which co-produced with Pendragon Theatre.  Director Sarah Norris has done what she can to mine the script for variation, but a regular rhythm sets in quickly.  Tip attempts to lead the way with dramatic flair and a touch of recklessness driven by his romantic world view.  Draped in mismatched navy business casual (Krista Grevas, Costume Design), Emi follows with apprehension and self-doubt.  At intervals, the passage of time literally ticks by (Jennie Gorn, Sound Design), the lights flicker (Hayley Garcia Parnell, Lighting Design), and someone climbs the cabinets to move the clock hands forward (Yasmyn Sumiyoshi, Movement Direction).  There surely was a more impactful way to illustrate the “real-time consequences” that should be driving the action.

Kleo Mitrokostas and Charles Hsu in This is Government; photo by Burdette Parks

Much of the opening banter is character background and a the building of a familiar framework of government by bluster.  When Kaz surrenders to Tip’s plan, the plot takes on more elements of a detective procedural.  But Kissinger hasn’t so much dropped breadcrumbs as built a pullman loaf walkway.  There is less talk of fueling political change than there is of understanding the bomber’s motives.  The serious exploration of meaningful themes is obscured by broad comedy and near absurdism.  The fates of our would-be heroes feel underdeveloped and ultimately unearned.

Nina Kissinger is a distinguished voice in new generation of playwrights. But though it has been only three years since This is Government won the Agnes Nixon Playwriting Festival at Northwestern University, the political landscape has shifted sharply and is less supportive of her message.  At the performance I attended, nearly half the audience was under 30.  In her curator’s note, Artistic Director Val Day says she hopes these Gen Zers will hear this piece as a call to action.  I sincerely hope they do, even if it’s to gather for another shared experience at live theater.

This is Government is playing in Theater B at 59e59 Theaters, 59 East 59th Street in Manhattan.  Tickets are $44 and available at https://www.59e59.org/shows/show-detail/this-is-government/.  Running time is approximately 85 minutes without intermission.  Content is recommend for those 14 and up.

Sulfur Bottom

Recently I took a tour of the history of New York City’s electrical system.  Most of the infrastructure had been placed in marginalized neighborhoods.  That this is not new news made it no less distressing to witness.  These projects are essential for supporting modern day conveniences, but it’s always at the expense of those with less money and power to push them into someone else’s backyard.  

That lack of equity is at the heart of Rishi Varma’s Sulfur Bottom.  But this is not an “issues play.”  Instead, by blending naturism with otherworldliness, playwright Varma has crafted a bewitching modern day folktale.  It may be as ugly and bloodstained as the rug featured in the central family home, but it’s centered.  Resonant themes of familial connections, hard-won second chances, and the importance of home are woven in.  This distinctive approach draws in an audience that might not listen otherwise.  To make an even more meaningful point, the production has partner with WE ACT for Environmental Justice (https://weact.org/) for their Off Broadway run.

Director Megumi Nakamura has done an incredible job of pile driving down to the bedrock of emotions underlying the sophisticated, fantastical plot.  And we are surrounded by sound and sight cues that keep us “in it” with the characters. Each revelation comes with a musical theme (composer Jacob Brandt).  The location of the house in question is on land so polluted the house literally groans in pain (sound design by Sid Diamond).  Even the flowered wallpaper and aforementioned rug are slowly poisoned (set design by Daniel Prosky).  The overhead lights saturate the space in appropriate jaundice-yellow tones (lighting design Sam Weiser).  While there is no olfactory component, it’s easy to conjure up the corresponding odor of decay.

Of course it is the cast that lures us in.  There is tension between Sir Cavin (Kevin Richard Best) and his teenage daughter Fran (Kendyl Grace Davis).  She has killed [another?] deer which is now lying on a cutting block near their much-disliked rug.  It’s clear their conversation about the circle of life has been playing on repeat.  Sir Cavin’s belief in this interconnection has been his North Star.  But Fran finds the animals that surround them both noisy and dangerous.

Joyah Dominique, Feyisola Soetan (foreground) and Kevin Richard Best in Sulfur Bottom;
photo by Austin Pogrob



Also in the home is Sir Cavin sister Melissa (Joyah Dominique).  Though she once hoped to move to San Francisco to be a performer, she has resigned herself to keeping a watchful eye on her niece.  As the piece drifts back and forth through time over the course of 40 years— sometimes spanning two decades simultaneously — we meet Fran’s husband Winter (Eric Easter) and daughter Maeve (Feyisola Soetan) as well as Sir Cavin’s friend Copal (Aaron Dorelien) whose ambition perverts the course of their lives.

Performances of Sulfur Bottom are Wednesdays at 7:30 and Saturdays at 1:00 at The Jerry Orbach Theater, 210 West 50th Street, 3rd Floor.  Tickets are available through October 11 at https://www.sulfurbottom.com/.  The shallow venue is ¾ round with well loved seats and over-achieving air conditioning.  A colorful beverage from the bar might add to your feeling of joining the characters in their living room.  

If the ancients had spun a tradition myth about the spirits of environmental justice, it would share DNA with Sulfur Bottom.   It is a cautionary tale, but told with warmth, love, and a touch of humor.  We all want a better life for our children.  But some have a whale of a chance of making it happen.

Polishing Shakespeare

When you hear the premise of Polishing Shakespeare — Dot-com billionaire, Grant, is bestowing generous grants to a team of eager writers prepared to translate the entire works of The Bard into *English*— it is easy to picture the original ten minute skit.   What is impressive is the full length skewering of the dangerous shifting landscape of the arts that the script has become.  Given the events of the last six month, it’s almost as if playwright Brian Dykstra is writing in real time.  And he’s doing so in iambic pentameter!  (In fact, the actors’ improv skills are all so sharp that actually did happen during the performance I attended.)

The clawing back of money for the arts from the current administration forms a solemn backdrop for this timely comedy.  Though it makes its point numerous times, the exaggerated set-up is moved forward by three characters, each with a strong motive.  Grant (silver-tongued playwright Dykstra) doesn’t want to have to think when he attends a live performance.  He sees his project as a way to make Shakespeare entertaining for the masses, ignoring, of course, that Shakespeare has been just that for hundreds of years.  Ms. Branch (a beautifully tightly wound Kate Levy), the company’s director is just trying to be financially responsible now that she is almost completely reliant on her board for funds.  And though she genuinely loves and appreciates the Folio, Jane (a brilliantly bold Kate Siahaan-Rigg) sees a way to use her acute observational skills and talent with a pen to get out of crushing debt.  Alliances shift as each seeks an opportunity to move closer to their goal with the help of one at the expense of the other. It becomes such a battle of wits, you can almost see the gleaming sabers.  

Brian Dykstra and Kate Siahaan-Rigg in Polishing Shakespeare; photo by Carol Rosegg

What makes the piece sparkle is the spirited speed with which the lines are delivered.  Only someone completely comfortable with Shakespeare could set the necessary tempo with wink-and-nod style.  There is an ease to Dykstra, who has not only performed roles in numerous productions of the real thing (King John, Much Ado About Nothing, Twelfth Night, and MacBeth among others) but also participated in Season 6 of Mos Def’s well respected spoken word poetry program on HBO.  He plays with the audience like a cat with an amused mouse.  Siahaan-Rigg is a marvel, rattling off several sublime soliloquies that celebrate all those who have been exploited and marginalized by the mass market.  Levy navigates the intricate pathway between the stuffiness of her character and the humor in her lines.

Director Margarett Perry’ s assured hand highlights the flows of power.  Supporting the rapid fire exchanges is the strategic lighting by Tyler M. Perry who also designed the hilarious Shakespeare tchotchke-ladened set.  

Eliciting both belly laughs and tummy knots, Polishing Shakespeare has been extended through August 24.  Performances run approximately 90 minutes with no intermission.  The show is presented in Theater B at 59e59.  $44 full price tickets ($30 for Members) can be purchased at https://www.59e59.org/shows/show-detail/polishing-shakespeare/

OPEN

After a lengthy pause, Crystal Skillman’s award-winning play, OPEN, has been given a three-week Off-Broadway run at WP Theater.   Celebrating its 47th Season, WP Theater is the oldest and largest theatrical company in the country dedicated to fostering, producing and promoting the work of Women+ at every stage of their artistic development.  With LGBTQ rights under heightened threat, bringing OPEN’s heartfelt love story back to the stage could not be better timed.  Whatever impression the script left in 2019 has only been amplified by rising violence including a shooting near the fabled Stonewall Inn at the end of Pride Month.  

From a darkened space lined with lighting and sound equipment, Kristen invites the audience to join her for a three stage magic act consisting of Love, Commitment, and Sacrifice plus an extra promise.  To execute her wizardry, she has dressed in flashy top hat and tails (costume design by Madeline Wall) and taken on the persona of The Magician, a character inspired by “Night by Night” one of her own YA short stories. In it, a boy discovers that his make-believe skill as a conjurer has imbued him with real abilities.  In the lengthier version of her tale, he also falls in love with another boy.  Kristen hopes that she will experience a similar transformation in her powers as she struggles to reach out to her girlfriend, Jenny.

Over the course of 75 minutes, Kristen shares chapters from her and Jenny’s relationship.  She acknowledges that she has been deeply affected by a repressive upbringing in Indiana and lives cautiously: doubting her abilities and never “flaunting” being a lesbian.  Jenny, however, is out and singing with joy, surrounded by loving and accepting family and working with LGBT youth.  Not only is their meeting magical, but their life together requires all sorts of tricks from the juggling act of their needs to levitating above societal forces.  The very word OPEN performs a number of functions as in living openly gay, being open hearted, speaking openly and honestly, and opening the door to opportunity. 

Unlike most playwrights with a single character, Skillman does not give voice to her own words.  Instead the piece is brought to life by Megan Hill, who previously played The Magician at The Tank.  She is not the type of monologist who uses different vocal registers, but rather distinguishes her characters with tone and body language.  The most important ingredient in her success is engaging the imagination of audience members which she coaxes and nurtures.  The colorful details throughout the script make it easy to see with your inner eye and indeed “conjure” episodes from Kristen and Jenny’s life together.  At points, attendees function as magician’s assistants, filling out the invisible visuals with their willing participation.  

Megan Hill as The Magician in OPEN; photo by Jeremy Varner

The genuine slight of hand is performed by the creative team with impressively timed sound by Emma Wilk and lighting by Sarah Johnston (who also designed the set).  Director Jessi D. Hill and Magic Consultant Rachel Wax along with Wilk, and Johnston have collaborated beautifully on executing the physicality and visualization of the incantations without a ball, ring or flower in sight.  

Inventive, touching, and impactful, OPEN is a unique solo entertainment.  Performances continue at WP Theater, 2162 Broadway in New York, through July 27.  Tickets are $65 and available at https://wptheater.org/wp-space-program/open/. Pre-show acts and post-show talkbacks will incorporate the talents of the magicians who helped inspire Skillman’s story and the actors who portrayed The Magician in Broadway Licensing productions, drawing a through-line to the powerful role of magic within the LGBTQIA+ community.

Trophy Boys

It all comes down to gray areas according to Jared, the second debater on the undefeated team at the center of Emmanuelle Mattana’s Trophy Boys.  The same could be said of the entire play, now in its American debut at MCC Theater. The most immediate and obvious dichotomy is that each of the four boys on stage is portrayed by an actor who is non-cis male.  In truth, almost every aspect of the piece is non-conforming.  It is a comedy permeated by devastation and a tragedy that contains plenty of laughs.

At opening, four seniors from an elite New York high school are preparing for the debate of their scholastic lives. Win, and they are all one giant step closer to achieving the lofty professional goals they’ve set for themselves.  Lose, and all of their ambitious plans could be sidelined.  In their favor is the well-honed collaborative technique they’ve developed over the year.  Though they’ve just learned that they are to argue in the affirmative that feminism has failed women — against the team from an all-girls school no less — their brainstorming is exuberant.  But when a catastrophic piece of information is introduced into their planning session, it throws everyone off balance.

Mattana has drawn from their own experience as a debater, a skill which often required them to argue for cases they didn’t believe.  “It was no wonder,” they reflect in the program, “ that this ethos seeped so dangerously into other parts of these boys’ lives.”  She has also given herself the juicy role of Owen, the socially awkward debate team closer who to his very roots believes he is the smartest person in the room.  

The other three teammates have their own reasons for seeing themselves as superior to the rest.  In the first spot is the bi-curious physically dominant Scott, portrayed by the always magnetic Esco Jouléy.  Backing him up is the creative lover-of-women Jared, an all-too-recognizable Louisa Jacobson.  In forth place is Terry Hu’s David, the strict administrator.   As an acting ensemble, they smoothly cede the spotlight to the next player even when their characters do not.  

Emmanuelle Mattana, Louisa Jacobson, Esco Jouléy, and Terry Hu; Photo by Valerie Terranova

Director Danya Taymor has great familiarity with young males, having recently won the Tony Award for The Outsiders.  She has injected that extreme physicality into her cast. The music pumps as the audience enters, preparing them for the energetic onslaught.  At points the cast members literally bounce off the furniture, depicting what their nervous systems are experiencing.  Vigorous dance moves include humping their notebooks to show their dominance over the material.  Passions hot and cold run deep and lines are delivered at a barely digestible rate of speed.  One can only imagine the sensitivity with which the more emotional exchanges were developed with a sensitivity specialist (Ann James) and DEI consultant (Nicole Johnson) working alongside Taymor to mold the scenes. 

There is a through-line from the contradictions of ideas that runs across all the creative elements.  It is far into the term, but Matt Saunders’ desks, chairs and whiteboard remain immaculate.  Images of important women through history adorn the walls but appear cartoonish.  The students are 17 years old and Márion Talán de la Rosa has dressed them in short pants usually reserved for under-classmates.  Cha See’s lighting is natural and then morphs to profoundly exaggerated.  

Ultimately, Trophy Boys is a sincere and thoughtful exploration of the non-binary nature of the world.  No person represented is just one thing and neither is any aspect of the content.  Most noticeable of all is our feelings which are completely adrift by the end of an increasingly taut 70 minutes.  We are left in that all-important gray area.  Performances continue through July 27 at MCC Theater, 511 West 52nd Street.  Dynamically priced tickets start at $74 and are available at https://mcctheater.org/tix/trophy-boys/.

The United States vs Ulysses

In 1933, the landmark trial of “United States v. One Book Called Ulysses” cleared the way for the publication of many significant works of literature that include sexual content and adult language.  Though James Joyce’s seminal novel was readily available in Europe at the time, it had twice been deemed obscene by a New York court. Random House founder, Bennett Cerf, determined that being the first in America to print the book in its entirety would launch them into the big leagues.  To that end, his company attorney, Morris Ernst, strategized what became a test case for freedom of expression.  Judge Woolsey’s deeply considered decision is practically a literary work in itself.

The events of the trial — its echos reverberating off the walls of today’s public libraries and scholastic institutions — form the foundation of The United States vs Ulysses currently running at the Irish Arts Center.  Playwright Colin Murphy takes the name of the actual case to heart, positioning sections of the book in the role of defendant.  He also fuses the courtroom drama with a rather unrefined behind the scenes look at the live reenactment produced by CBS’s The March of Time.  

This multilayered investigation is executed by a skillful cast of six under the adept hand of director Conall Morrison.  The send-up of the radio broadcast gives way to a serious lesson in interpretive performance.  The ensemble moves through characters historic and fictional, often brushing one against the other.  Jonathan White provides cohesion even while portraying a number of different narrator types.  Clare Barrett is an utter delight as Molly Bloom, especially in her interactions with Morgan C. Jones’s cerebral Judge Woolsey.  Ali White serves as a counterbalance to Barrett’s wild abandon, taking on the sterner female roles.  Ross Gaynor pulls off playing Bennett Cerf and the prosecuting lawyer as well as Molly’s oily lover.  Ernst is rendered by Mark Lambert, personifying this production’s blend of honest reflection and sharp-edged humor.  

The Cast of The United States vs Ulysses; Photo by Nir Arieli

The entire design team facilitates the slide between modes of storytelling. The actors are able to switch roles with the rapid exchange of a hat, the wrapping of a scarf or the removal of glasses (costumes by Catherine Fay).  Liam Doona’s set is like a gift box, with sound proofed radio studio opening to reveal Paris, Dublin, and the Southern District of New York.  Each state of the narrative is given its own tonal palette thanks in large part to John Comiskey’s lighting.  Music and sound by Simon Kenny enhance the atmosphere.

Combining elements of history, literature, law, society and culture, The United States vs Ulysses reminds us of the fight which won us the right to read whatever we choose.  Along the way, it pokes fun at the powerful men who tried to silence a fictional woman for being a sexual being.  Performances continue through Sunday, June 1, at The JL Greene Theatre in the Irish Arts Center,  726 11th Avenue.  There is a lovely cafe in the lobby that is open before and after the show.  Runtime is a sleek 85 minutes.  Tickets start at $25 and are available at https://irishartscenter.org/event/the-united-states-vs-ulysses.

Bowl EP

I am not young, black, gay, or well acquainted with club drugs. What I am is a fierce advocate for theater as an art and communication form. Being in a performance space filled with 20-somethings who are stomping, clapping, hooting, and laughing, even while relating strongly to Morales trying to feel like an ice cream cone, was thrilling. That was my recent experience at a matinee of Nazareth Hassan’s Bowl EP, a joint production of Vineyard Theatre and National Black Theatre in association with The New Group.

If you are a fossil like me, you remember Extended Plays or EPs as the record albums comprised of a few songs. These days they are used by artists to stay on the charts while they are working on larger musical projects.  Bowl EP begins with short “tracks,” the titles of which are projected around the sides of the “bowl,” an empty swimming pool that Quentavius da Quitter (Oghenero Gbaje) and Kelly K Klarkson  (Essence Lotus) use for skateboarding… and other activities.  Similar to that short form, the scenes are performed by the same pair, but don’t firmly connect in style or content.

Also like an EP, much of what the two say to each other has more of the quality of song lyrics than naturalistic dialogue: abstract and disconnected, yet deeply emotional. They never call each other by name and there are no characters listed in the program.  They talk very little about their lives away from this space as if there is no meaningful world away from the bowl.   It’s even hard to tell how long they’ve known each other.  The exchanges do produce a recurring cycle: flirtation, overt sexuality, and comic relief as they try come up with a name for their nascent rap duo.  Their “yums” are quite different, but each one is greeted with acceptance.

At a turning point Kelly — bedecked in wrap skirt over jeans and a sparkling baby-T (costumes by DeShon Elem) — mentions a cathartic therapy session during which she was able to vomit up her demon and become her.  Then during an intensely intimate act she is able to do the same for Quint.  The demon expelled into the pool is the high energy Lemon Pepper Wings (Felicia Curry).  From here, this pan-gender all-knowing character with oversized anime head, pink and purple frills, beat up teddybear backpack and a heart shaped tailed, takes over.  The rapid “tunes” are replaced by a relentless tirade akin to a drum solo as he/she/they shares Quint and Kelly’s relationship past and future in gory detail, personally involving the audience as well.  (Shout out to the stage managers who facilitate the magic.)

Essence Lotus and Oghenero Gbaje in Bowl EP; Photo by Carol Rosegg

Much thought has gone into transforming the venue for this unusual work.  Seating is in the round and blocked off from the stage with chain link fencing.  Playwright Hassan follows the flow of his words in the actors’ movement accented by Teniece Divya Johnson’s fight and intimacy choreography.  Scenic design team Adam Rigg & Anton Volovsek have created a gorgeous curvaceous pool in peaceful sea-foam complete with useful ladders and a diving board to contain the ferocity of the action.  Kate McGee’s lighting simulates street lamps and headlights until the colorful shift to the unconscious.  The projections as designed by Zavier Augustus Lee Taylor telegraph the intensity and vibe of each beat with the formation of the lettering.  Music by Judah “Free Fool” Girvan caps the undertaking, even effectively incorporating some of the lyrics devised in earlier chapters.

Intentionally and undeniably different, Bowl EP continues through June 22 at the Vineyard Theatre, 108 East 15th near Union Square.  Runtime is 80 minutes without intermission. Tickets are available at https://vineyardtheatre.org/shows/bowl/  beginning at $37.80.  Seating is unique and a look at the chart is helpful in selecting your preferred location.  ADA seating is available in the North section.  A joint fundraising initiative is striving to provide tickets to first-time theatergoers, though if this production was on film the content would likely be rated M for violence and sexuality. The venue continues to offer two masked performances per run, honoring their commitment to make theater accessible to everyone.

Lights Out: Nat “King” Cole

In November of 1956, singer/pianist Nat “King” Cole became the first Black man to host a variety show on network television.  Though he eventually had multiple Billboard hits including Mona Lisa, L-O-V-E, and Nature Boy, he never secured a National sponsor for this groundbreaking program.  Major markets, especially those in the South, pressured advertisers to drop their support of the broadcast.  Despite an array of popular guest stars with household names, beaten down by the color barrier, NBC and Cole agreed to terminate the venture the following year after 53 episodes.

Lights Out: Nat “King” Cole, written by Colman Domingo and Patricia McGregor, uses the final taping of the Nat “King” Cole Show to explore not only this chapter in the life of the beloved crooner, but the systematic erasure of Black voices.  It’s an intriguing pick for a central character.  Though Cole participated in civil rights marches and avoided segregated venues, he felt his public role was one of an entertainer.  He sang ballads, not protest songs, even after a cross had been burned on the lawn of his home in a wealthy white Los Angeles neighborhood.  

The play is set in a television studio (scenic design by Clint Ramos) complete with an applause sign, clever lighting (Stacey Derosier), and a live “Nelson Riddle” band on the stage.  This enables the easy integration of music, live-feed camera work and audience reaction.  However, it quickly becomes obvious that this is not a recreation of one night.  Shortly before airtime someone (someTHING) causes the ghost light to flicker and briefly go out, allowing the spirit of Sammy Davis Jr. to explode onto the scene.  In an effort to inspire Cole to go out on a combative note, The Rat Packer takes him through a phantom version of events.  Classic song lyrics are incorporated into the spoken dialogue along with a mix of historical fact as seen through the lens of modern times and Cole’s personal reflection as imagined by Domingo and McGregor.

Dulé Hill in NYTW’s LIGHTS OUT; photo by Marc J. Franklin

Dulé Hill gives soothing voice and gravitas to Cole, a part he cultivated at the Peoples’ Light in Malvern, PA and further developed at the Geffen Playhouse in Los Angeles.  Daniel J. Watts, also reprising his role, grabs Davis by the lapels, practically ricocheting off the walls with intensity.  He is high octane gasoline to Hill’s humming battery pack.  Playwright McGregor directs, bouncing the two very different friends off one another, culminating in a dynamic dance number (choreography by Edgar Godineaux with tap by Jared Grimes). Though the plot line is choppy and likely to challenge those unfamiliar with the named celebrities and cultural touchstones, the songbook alone (arrangements and orchestrations by John McDaniel) makes for highly satisfying entertainment.  

Hill and Watts positively dazzle in the leads, capturing key qualities of their characters and steering clear of imitation.  The action is kicked off by Elliott Mattox’s convivial Stage Manager.  Cole’s white producer is portrayed in myriad forms by Christopher Ryan Grant.  Krystal Joy Brown makes an early impression as a purring Eartha Kitt, later embodying an enchanting daughter Natalie Cole. Also displaying range is another vet of the previous run, Ruby Lewis, who depicts both spunky Betty Hutton and sultry Peggy Lee.  Matriarch Perlina Coles, who first introduced Cole to the piano, is played with soulful sincerity by Kenita Miller with Mekhi Richardson performing as young Nat (and a younger Billy Preston) the afternoon I attended.  Adding a comedic touch is Kathy Fitzgerald as make-up artist Candy.  She is also featured in the highly creative live commercials that run throughout the program.   

You feel the ripples of connection move through different sectors of the audience depending on whether it is Cole performing his rendition of The Christmas Song, Lift Every Voice and Sing vocalized by mother Perlina, or young Natalie joining him for a duet of Unforgettable (something she created in the studio long after his death).  When you layer in the profound racism, disgraceful accepted stereotypes, and aggressions micro and macro, the entire experience becomes a social study as well as a piece of engaging theater.

Likely to fill you with a bubbling combination of elation and frustration, Lights Out: Nat “King” Cole provides a worthwhile conclusion to a bold season at New York Theatre Workshop.  Performances continue through June 29 on the main stage at 79 East 4th Street.  Runtime is 90 minutes without intermission.  The actors smoke heavily, making me grateful to remain a mask-wearer.  Tickets start at $49 and are available at https://www.nytw.org/show/lights-out-nat-king-cole/.

Glass. Kill. What If If Only. Imp.

The announcement of any performance of British playwright Caryl Churchill is cause for excitement.  She has long been a powerful and intriguing voice for gender equality, environmental protection, and sense of self while providing memorable entertainment.  On that score, the premiere program of four of her short works — Glass. Kill. What If If Only. Imp. — at The Public Theater is a disappointment.  Director James Macdonald and his artistic team have done a masterful job of making the production visually interesting.  But while moments gleam, it never comes together as a cohesive event.

Glass explores the melancholy lives of four decorative items (Japhet Balaban, Adelind Horan, Sathya Sridharan, and Ayana Workman) beyond the confines of their shared mantelpiece. Designer Miriam Buether’s first impactful set is a solid LED jutting out from the darkness and demanding attention.  Though a soulful Workman gives depth to the glass figurine who is the catalyst for the tragic events that unfold, Glass plays out more like an acting class exercise than a full fledged work of theater.

Adelind Horan, Ayana Workman, Sathya Sridharan, and Japhet Balaban; photo by Joan Marcus

Deirdre O’Connell, who won a Tony Award for her solo work in Dana H, pulls off the chillingly violent patter of Kill.  Sitting comfortably on a puffy cloud, a sparkling god of Olympus recounts many evil deeds performed by men — from the prideful Tantalus to the warrior Agamemnon — in the Pantheon’s name.  The repetition would sound like the narration of a five-year-old were the content less bloody.  A knowledge of Greek mythology is essential for following the rapid-fire references, though the essence is clear from O’Connell’s tone and manner.

The first half is closed out with What If If Only, a meditation on love, loss, and the risks of second chances.  For this solemn reflection, Buether provides a still life setting in stark black, white and red.  The sound design of Bray Poor also plays a key role by reinforcing the oppressive atmosphere.  The philosophical theater game is anchored by John Ellison Conlee, who makes the absurd sound completely natural.  

Breaks between these plays are filled by two talented acrobats.  The first is Junru Wang, who performs a balletic work while her hands balance on small stools at the foot of the stage.  For the second, we are treated to what I christened a “juggler-tease” performed with flirtatious glee by Maddox Morfit-Tighe.  Unfortunately some of his choreography was out of the sight lines of the back half of the audience.  Whether these two talented people provide unity, distraction, or a fleeting moment of joy is up to the beholder.

The second half of the program is fully occupied by the more plot-heavy Imp.  Conlee and O’Connell portray Jimmy and Dot, friends close enough to consider themselves brother and sister of different parents.  The affable Jimmy lifts his mood with running and chess.  Slumped in a nearby chair, Dot is ill-temperated and unwell.  She also believes herself to be in possession of a magical imp imprisoned in a wine bottle.  

The rhythm of their lives is altered by the arrival of two newcomers.  First their niece, Niamh, a recent transplant from Ireland stops by.  (Horan is wonderful at delivering Neve’s wildest fears in recognizable Churchill style.)  Then the couch surfing Rob enters their lives (Balaban again).  The younger pair is tossed about, though who’s to say whether their bumpy ride is caused by a supernatural being, the differing attitudes of their hosts, or just life.

It is fitting that the stage on which Glass. Kill. What If If Only. Imp. are performed is framed in chase lights with definite personality (Isabella Byrd lighting design).  With its bitesized ideas and high level of engagement, it’s Caryl Churchill for the TikTok generation.  Churchill’s signature poetic language and extraordinary themes are intact, but there is too little structure.  The Playbill notes encourage us to look beyond conventional narratives, but humans are storytellers with a need for an organizing rope to hold.  The feeling left behind by experiencing these four shorts is more akin to a stroll through a depressive art gallery than witnessing an emotionally fulfilling theatrical work.  Performances continue through May 11th at the Martinson Theater at The Public, 425 Lafayette Street.  Running time is 2:15 with one intermission.  Tickets are available at https://publictheater.org/productions/season/2425/caryl-churchill-plays/ and start at $89.

Amerikin

With his promising recent promotion, loyal best friend, and gorgeous new baby, Jeff Browning seems to be well on the way to living the life he’s always dreamed of.  The acceptance of his application to a local organization — The World Knights — is almost assured, making him and his fragile wife, Michelle, members of a supportive community.  Despite all he has, a deep sense of belonging remains a missing piece.  True, the Knights are dangerously anti-Black, but Jeff doesn’t consider himself a bigot.  He would never have called his dog a racist slur if he lived within hearing distance of a person of color.  Yet Jeff is rocked to the core when his required DNA test reveals he is 14% Subsaharan African.

These events unfold in the first few scenes of Amerikin, a new work by Chisa Hutchinson presented by Primary Stages.  With its highly provocative and uncomfortable themes, it’s no wonder this production became a target of the current administration and lost its NEA grant.  But for those who enjoy their live performances dexterously delivered and dowsed with hot sauce, the play provides enough rousing dialogue and surprising twists.

Playwright Hutchinson has much that she wants to communicate and she uses both sharp wit and emotional intelligence to largely accomplish her goals.  The simultaneous display of past and present makes for engaging storytelling.  Well-earned laughter breaks up the mounting tension.  The breaking of the fourth wall by several characters is a less effective short-cut and too frequently employed.  

Tobias Segal and Daniel Abeles in Primary Stages’ 2025 production of AMERIKIN;
photo by Justin Swader

Housed primary in a perfectly scuffed up set by scenic designers Christopher Swader and Justin Swader, the production is shaped by intuitive director Jade King Carroll and a skillful acting ensemble. Daniel Abeles takes the lead in Act 1, imbuing Jeff with alternating waves of swagger and vulnerability.  Act 2 is anchored by Victor Williams as a dauntless clear-eyed Black Washington Post reporter, Gerald, and Amber Reauchean Williams as his self-assured college age daughter, Chris.  The seasoned political journalist is looking for a fresh angle, preferable one that is Instagrammable.  Chris’s life has been more profoundly impacted by the execrating pace of police brutality against her race.  Their banter-filled car rides between D.C. and Jeff’s home in small-town Maryland compellingly illuminate a generational divide and are highlights of the script.  

The outsiders are the ones who bring the schism between Jeff’s sense of self and harsh reality into focus.  Additionally, Tobias Segal as best friend “Poot” is sweetly well meaning, expressing what many in the audience are thinking.  His character is a welcome counterbalance to Luke Robertson’s solid but offensive sponsor, Dylan.  His “Black Labs Matter” T-shirt (costumes by Jen Caprio) says it all.  Jeff’s wife and ex-girlfriend, portrayed by Molly Carden and Andrea Syglowski respectively, are plot-fillers written with limited range.

Amerikin is to be praised both as a springboard for productive and thoughtful conversation as well as an evening of quality ensemble acting.  The program notes contain several warnings including discussion of postpartum depression and suicidal ideation and the ending is so punishing it diminishes what came before.  Runtime is 2 hours plus a 15 minute intermission.  Performances continue through April 13 as part of the AMPLIFY Festival being celebrated at 59e59 Theaters at 59 East 59th Street.  Tickets begin at $66 and can be purchased at https://www.59e59.org/shows/show-detail/amerikin/#show-info.  In honor of their founding year, Primary Stages has also made $19.84 lottery tickets available through the TodayTix app for every performance.