The new comedy Merry Me has plenty going for it. The layered writing by Hanson Jung is packed with witty spins on pop culture and references to classicists from Euripides to Shakespeare all built around a structure most similar to a Restoration Comedy. The cast — everyone making a New York Theatre Workshop debut — is masterful. It would be easy to play up every clever note, which would also be exhausting. Instead the punches are delivered in slowly rising waves under the direction of the always excellent Leigh Silverman. It’s all quite attention getting and yet somehow lacks stickiness, which is not meant to be a sexy pun despite the prominence of bawdy humor in the dialogue.
The plot unfolds on the front lines of a war that has been paused by a well-known Angel (sassy Shaunette Renée Wilson). She introduces us to the interdependent characters as she and her cohorts manipulate their lives. There is Lieutenant Shane Horne (magnetic Esco Jouléy) who having seduced the General’s Wife (pixieish Cindy Cheung) is on a quest for her next “Merry.” Shane enlists the help of therapist Dr. Jess O’Nope (exuberant Marinda Anderson) to convince the rather dim General Memnon (David Ryan Smith with just the right amount of dopiness) that they are now heterosexual. Meanwhile the General’s equally dim son Private Willy (Ryan Spahn taking the hit for cis white men everywhere) has smuggled his beautiful new wife Sapph (Nicole Villamil managing an incredible balancing act between allure and innocence) onto the base. Bored out of her mind and her body, she dresses in “boy drag” in order to explore her surroundings and seek out Shane.
Playwright Jung pulls in references from Illyria to Wakanda with a hefty serving of Kushner and a soupçon of E.L. James. All of her characters are self aware and often speak in stage directions and subtext. The energy is that of an old-fashioned farce but the would-be cliches are almost literally turned on their heads. Having directed many productions in the NYTW space, Leigh takes actions that would typical be horizontal and stages them vertically with wonderful results. There is one tiny portable foley door that gets run in and out of, but for the most part that classic farcical piece is “performed” by a remarkable back wall designed by Rachel Hauck. The effects are fully achieved with the help of Barbara Samuels lighting and Caroline Eng and Kate Marvin’s sound design.
A combination of intellectual exercise and frank sexuality, unsurprisingly Merry Me is attracting an unusual blend of followers. The age range of the audience was fresh out of college to well into AARP membership. Faces represented the colors of the rainbow. And reactions spanned from gently bobbing heads to energetic fist pumping. Performances continue through November 19 at New York Theatre Workshop, 79 East 4th Street. Runtime is 90 minutes with no intermission. Full priced tickets are $65. For more information visit https://www.nytw.org/show/merry-me/. There is room in this world for something different even if it isn’t enduring.
The Unforgettable Line 
The Cake
The Cake is like one of those imperfectly filled jelly donuts: a few sweet spot surrounded by too much bland. At a time when we could use serious conversation and considered insight into the critical issues that divide us as a nation, this comedy by This Is Us producer Bekah Brunstetter offers too little that is satisfying. Though it concludes with some timid steps towards a “love is love is love” message, it gets there via worn out arguments on both sides of the issue of gay marriage.
Fans of That 70s Show may delight in seeing Debra Jo Rupp as Della, the owner of a sweet shop in Winston-Salem North Carolina (Brunstetter’s home town) about to find fame on a national baking show. Her opening monologue cleverly lays the groundwork for the rigid discipline Della applies to all areas of her life. Soon after, she is reunited with Jen, her deceased best friend’s daughter, who is in town preparing for her October wedding. Initially Della is thrilled when asked to provide the wedding cake. But when she discovers Jen’s intended is another bride, she clumsily rescinds the offer. Their ensuing awkward discussion leaves both Della and Jen rattled and searching for the roots of their beliefs and accompanying feelings of shame.
Director Lynne Meadows does her best with a space that is too wide for a story this intimate. Rupp is her usual perky self, delivering most of the better lines with comic flair. To some ears, Della will simply come across as a bigot (though a chirpy petite one) who uses someone else’s pleasure and pain to mend her own relationship. But there are moments when Della’s turmoil feels genuine. Rupp is most grounded in her scenes with Dan Daily, who has the most joyful character arc in the role of her domineering husband, Tim. (Daily also provides the voice of the appropriately oily George, the host of the American Baking Show who functions as Della’s conscience.)
Rupp and Angelson in The Cake. Photo by Joan Marcus.
The relationship of the lesbian couple is more problematic. Disappointingly, though the words are often there — particularly in Jen’s vivid and horrifying description of her heterosexual encounters — there is no palpable connection between the two actresses. The fresh-faced Genevieve Angelson brings a sweet restlessness to Jen as she is tossed between the realms of her conservative childhood and newly found freedom discovered in New York. As her betrothed, Marinda Anderson gives Macy some well-earned rough edges, though the script occasionally requires her to speechify. But as a couple, they never seem to click.
The overall look of the piece is spot-on. Scenic designer John Lee Beatty has chosen candy colors to surround his baker, with mint green and strawberry cream pink swirling through her shop and home. In contrast, the engaged couple is staying in the only earth toned room on the set. Wardrobe by costume designer Tom Broecker follows a similar scheme, with Jen alternating palates. Philip S. Rosenberg’s ’s lighting sharpens the intensity of Della’s inner dialogue and softens the conversations between lovers.
With The Cake, Ms. Brunstetter has tried to make the point that recent cultural shifts have occurred too quickly for some goodhearted people to catch up. The irony is that since the time the play was first produced, those same shifts have given rise to a slate of superior projects with bolder things to say. From our current cultural vantage point, this work is a disappointing use of Rupp’s comedic talent as well as a waste of several delectable-looking cakes.
The Cake is playing through March 31 at MTC at New York City Center – Stage I. Theater-goers under 30 qualify for special $35 tickets. Full priced tickets begin at $89 and can be purchased online at www.nycitycenter.org, by calling CityTix at 212-581-1212, or by visiting the New York City Center box office (131 West 55th Street).