Erin Wilhelmi, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Julie White, Jayne Houdyshell. Photo Credit: Julieta Cervantes
The last time I saw Nora, was a few months ago, when I went to see this production starring Laurie Metcalf (The Other Place) shake this theatre apart with her stunning and powerful portrayal of Nora, earning her the Tony Award. The Doll’s House, Part 2, the astounding new play by Lucas Hnath, an exciting new playwright (The Christians, Red Speedo) has lasted through the summer but sadly has posted a closing notice. I’m truly sad that this show will be shutting its doors. I would guess that the loss of the star power of Laurie Metcalf and Chris Cooper has done this play in, but make no mistake, their replacements, Julie White and Stephen McKinley Henderson are equally as astounding in their respective parts, with Henderson creating a much stronger and defined Torvald than Cooper ever did.
Julie White, Jayne Houdyshell. Photo Credit: Julieta Cervantes
In Ibsen’s 1879 masterwork play, Nora walks out the door, leaving behind her shocked husband and unknowing children behind. Her action is seen as a brave and monumental decision for a woman to make, especially back in the day when it was written. That classic was a powerful raising of the fist for feminism and a woman finding her place in the world. Nora didn’t want to be Torvald’s pretty little doll. She didn’t want to be played with by a man who looks down from a high. In this clever sequel to that ground-breaking Ibsen play, it all starts with some impatient knocking. When that door is finally opened, by the incredible Tony Award nominee, Jayne Houdyshell (The Humans, Follies) as Aunt Marie, Julie White (Tony Award winner for the incredible The Little Dog Laughed) is standing there, strong and well dressed. A new and equally magnificent Nora has come home again. White as Nora stands there erect and proud, but nervous and in need, and we know we are in for a wild ride courtesy of this modern young playwright and his new delicious star.
Hnath getting his Broadway debut writes A Doll’s House, Part 2 with a very modern slant on language and demeanor, while following the story line plots from the original with precision. This is a ‘what if’ story line, that examines the inequalities and social arrangements of the past with a nod to responsibility, love, attachment, and a diatribe on marriage. It’s a powerful four person production, directed by the big named Broadway director, Sam Gold (The Glass Menagerie, Fun Home) creating with this new crew of actors an equal and just as powerful (maybe even more so) production then the one I saw a week before the 2017 Tony deadline. Gold doesn’t hold back on the punches, giving his cast numerous opportunity to use this play to score big on many different levels, while also being funny and thoroughly engaging.
Houdyshell (The Humans, Follies) playing Aunt Marie, the woman who stepped in when Nora left to help Torvald with the home and the children, ushers the former lady of the house into the bare living room. It’s a bit shocking to Nora that the room is so empty and void of all frills (a thrilling set design by Miriam Buether; lighting by Jennifer Tipton; sound by Leon Rothenberg). Marie was expecting Nora, and finds herself in quite the conflicted situation. She has a lot to say to Nora, and the flood gates open wide for the both of them. These two, just as it was with Metcalf, give us a master class in arguing, playing off each other in a well-written dance about motherhood, marriage, and so much more.
Julie White, Stephen McKinley Henderson. Photo Credit: Julieta Cervantes
Talk finally revolves around to Torvald, portrayed by Stephen McKinley Henderson (2010’s revival of Fences), a part previously played by Academy Award winner Chris Cooper. Cooper was slightly miscast as the ex-husband that hasn’t really managed to let go or move on. It’s a the complex part, playing in the arena of anger, frustration, pain, and love between a man and woman with tremendous history and heavy baggage. Cooper never managed to rise to the same level as Metcalf, nor would he have been able to match White’s magnificence. But Henderson does not lack the fortitude to go head to head, and brain to brain with White. He gives an astoundingly deep and meaningful portrayal that makes the part sing like it has not before. This pairing of Nora and Torvald is a match made in combative and loving heaven, and their engagement with each other finally rings true.
Without a doubt, White is as incredible as Metcalf was. She equals the previous performance so well that comparisons don’t take place in our thoughts or mind until much later, as we watch her inhabit the part with a strong stance that is both modern and old fashioned all at the same time. Once again she is impeccably dressed by costume designer, David Zinn (Present Laughter, The Humans) giving her a command that radiates beyond the stitching. She delivers every line with a strength and solidness of the woman she has finally become. She’s funny and sure footed, while also struggling with insecurity and shame, especially when the conversation circles around to her children. Erin Wilhelmi (Ivo van Hove’s revival of The Crucible) as the daughter, Emmy, one of three that Nora abandoned so many years ago, is equal to the solid portrayal by the previous Emmy, Condola Rashad (MTC’s Ruined). She matches the strength and conviction of White’s Nora, while playing and engaging in sublimely unique and fascinating rhythms that surprise. It’s steadfast and true, while challenging the woman that is her mother, but not her caregiver. There is a simple lovely innocence in Wilhelmi’s Emmy that Rashad didn’t radiate, but it just makes the connection to one another different, not better or worse.
Julie White, Erin Wilhelmi. Photo Credit: Julieta Cervantes
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Broadway
Broadway’s A Doll’s House Meticulously Stunning Revival Soars Like a Birdie Above That Clumsy Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
For a revival to find its footing, it has to have a point of view or a sense of purpose far beyond an actor’s desire to perform a part, whether it suits them or not. It needs to radiate an idea that will make us want to sit up and pay attention. To feel its need to exist. And on one particular day in March, I was blessed with the opportunity to see not just one grande revival, but two. One was a detailed pulled-apart revolutionary revival of Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House that astounded. The other, unfortunately, was a clumsy revival of Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof that fell lazily from that high-wired peak – not for a lack of trying, but from a formulation that never found its purpose.
But over at Broadway’s Hudson Theatre, a reformulation chirps most wisely and wonderfully, bringing depth and focus to a classic Henrik Ibsen (Hedda Gabler) play that I didn’t realize was in such need of an adaptation. With no extravagance at its core, Amy Herzog (Mary Jane) dynamically takes the detailed structure and beautifully adapted it with due purpose. It hypnotizes, dragging in a number of light wooden chairs, Scandinavian in style, I believe, onto the stage, one by one, by their black-clad counterparts in a determined effort to unpack what will unfold. There is no artifice to hide behind in this rendering, as designed most impeccably by scenic and co-costume designer Soutra Gilmour (NT’s My Brilliant Friend; Broadway’s & Juliet) and co-costume designer Enver Chakartash (Broadway’s Is This A Room), only A Doll’s House’s celebrated star, Jessica Chastain (Broadway’s The Heiress; “The Eyes of Tammy Faye“) rotating the expanse of the bare stage before the others join her slowly and deliberately. She sits, arms crossed, staring, daring us to look away, while knowing full well we won’t. Or can’t. And without a word, it feels like she has us exactly where she wants us. Needs us to be. And all that transpires before the play even begins.
They sit on that bare and stark stage, waiting, in a way, to be played with, like dolls patiently wanting some children to come and give them a voice through their imagination. As Nora, Chastain delivers forward a performance that is unparalleled. To witness what transpires across her face during the course of this extra fine adaptation is to engage in a dance so delicately embroidered that we can’t help but be moved and transported. She barely moves from her chair, as others, like the equally wonderful Arian Moayed (Broadway’s The Humans) as Torvald, are rotated in to sit beside her, conversing and delivering magnified lines, thanks to the brilliant work of sound designers Ben & Max Ringham (West End’s Prima Facie), that dig deep into the underbelly of the complicated interactions. This pair of actors find a pathway through the darkness, never letting us come to any conclusions until they are ready to unleash a moment that will leave you breathless. This is particularly true for Moayed’s Torvald, who seems decent enough at the beginning, but once the shift occurs, when the beautiful thing doesn’t happen as it should, his unveiling is as gut-wrenching to us as it is to Nora. Even though we knew it was coming long before the play even began to spin forward.
The art of the unfolding is steeped within the whole, refocused inside the brilliant shading, shadowing, and starkness of the cast. As Krogstad, the powerful Okieriete Onaodowan (Broadway’s Hamilton), alongside the deliciously tight Jesmille Darbouze (Broadway’s Kiss Me, Kate) as Kristine, find an engagement that sits perfectly in the structuring. They push the reforming to the edge, approaching and receding away from Chastain’s brilliant centering helping move the piece towards the required conclusion.
The same can be said of the wonderful Tasha Lawrence (LCT’s Pipeline) as Anne-Marie, and the exquisitely emotional turning of Michael Patrick Thornton (Broadway’s Macbeth) as Dr. Rank. Thornton, in particular, finds a telling and emotional space to connect, unearthing an engagement that breaks the circle apart, leaving Chastain’s Nora and all of us observers shattered and broken in its black X’d finality.
As directed with the same magnificently detailed energy and flat-walled framework as the previously seen Betrayal on Broadway and the West End, Jamie Lloyd gives us A Doll’s House that will never be forgotten. The focus is so deliberate, and the formulations are just so strong, pushed forward in black and white by the exacting lighting design of Jon Clark (West End/Broadway’s The Lehman Trilogy). Forced while remaining ever so intimate, the cascading of the statement delivered registers in a precise way, more exacting than I ever remembered, and I’ve seen numerous renditions of this epic play. And even though, from what I hear, many on the left couldn’t see the epic exit of Nora, a moment that typically registers throughout theatre history, the symbol of a woman, steadfast and true, leaving the safe and simple artifice of A Doll’s House for engagement in the hard cruel reality of the world outside is as clear as can be. The delicacies of this birdie trapped inside a cage, poisoned with lies and excuses, and beautifully brought forth by Chastain, registers the reasonings for this revival to exist. It has found a new and deliberate place to sing, and for that, I am truly grateful.
I wish I could say the same about Ruth Stage‘s modern take on the Tennessee Williams (A Streetcar Named Desire) classic, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, currently being re-delivered at the Theatre at St. Clements. As directed by Joe Rosario (Hemingway and Me; Ruth Stages’ The Exhibition), the play doesn’t find its rationale for existing in the modern day beyond the simplistic sexualization of its boxing-ring corners. Matt de Rogatis (Austin Pendleton’s Wars of the Roses) as the tense athletic Brick stays broken and damaged in his corner, riding out the moment, waiting for the click, while in the other corner is the tense Maggie, played without hesitation by Courtney Henggeler (Netflix’s “Cobra Kai“) poised and ready for the bell to ring.
The battle is only heightened by the presence of two other fighters in the opposing corners, Big Daddy, played with determination by Frederick Weller (Broadway’s To Kill a Mockingbird) in the third, and Big Mama, played with a strong intent by Alison Fraser (Gingold Theatrical’s Heartbreak House), in the fourth. And watching and cheering for their own personal perspective wins are the obnoxious Mae, typically portrayed by Christine Copley (although I believe I saw an understudy), the weasely Gooper, played by Adam Dodway (Theatre Row’s Small Craft Warnings), Rev. Tooker portrayed by Milton Elliott (Ruth Stage’s Hamlet), and Doc Baugh, typically played by Jim Kempner (“The Girlfriend Experience“) (although, once again, I believe I saw an understudy).
Generally, this is a battle that rages deceptively strong and subtle for the length of the play, swimming cruelly in the hazy heat of its Southern charm. But somewhere in this modernization, the reasonings never get fully realized, leaving the cast to wander in their stereotypical delivery without a sharp focal point in the horizon to zero in on. Hidden behind the bar and the drink, de Rogatis finds a Brick to be engaged with. He’s definitely handsome and desirable, especially in the eyes of the far-too-straightforward Henggeler’s Maggie the Cat, and his occupation of drinking rings more true than most. I’m not sure if the modernization has been created to fit his chest-baring delivery of a broken Brick, but I will say that his artful approach to the part is one of the stronger components of this otherwise clunky reimagining.
Given so much to unpack, Henggeler runs a little too fast and furious, not weaving a pause into her thoughts and actions. It’s all forward flowing, ignoring the laws of silence and deliberation. Big Mama and Big Daddy, ignoring the fact that they don’t seem to fit in with their surroundings or the set-up, find their way into the same cage as the two central figure fighters, giving us something else to contemplate in their constructs, beyond their tight fitting jeans and dress. There’s not much of a father/son connection, nor does their familial energy register, even as it moves and twitches within the pauses well. The details of attachment are lost, as they talk around things, with everyone else playing at high volume, courtesy of a sound design by Tomás Correa (Hudson Street’s Adam & Eve), delivering the Southern drawl with the intensity of an SNL skit. That’s a problem to the whole and one that doesn’t work for this rendering.
Most of the cast is all hock and no spit, moving around the room with a strange case of physicalized mendacity while never really finding a reason for their existence. The artifice gets in the way of the movement, especially in Matthew Imhoff’s (off-Broadway’s soot and spit) busy and overly clumsy set, with some distracting fading in and out by lighting designer Christian Specht’s (SSTI’s Cabaret). The storm approaching is as false as the formula and the reasoning for this retelling. It showcases some basically good actors embracing the chance to play iconic Big roles that I’m sure they have always wanted to dig their Southern-accented chomps into, possibly because one or two of them might never otherwise get the chance as they don’t exactly fit the literal sashaying of the “fat old” bodies out and around the staging of this play. The idea breeds curiosity, but one that doesn’t save this Cat on a Hot Tin Roof from falling quick and hard from its perch, I’m sad to say. While the birdie in A Doll’s House flies strong out into the cool Broadway air, with solid reasoning on its stark wings, reminding us all what makes for a worthy reimagining of a classic.
You are seriously asking for it, when you make the title for your musical Bad Cinderella, however the show is not bad, it’s just seriously lacking. For an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, which is normally rich in melody, the only song that has any kind of hold is “Only You, Lonely You” sung by Prince Sebastian (Jordan Dobson or in my performance the wonderful Julio Ray). The lyrics by David Zippel and book by Emerald Fennell, adapted by Alexis Scheer are inane. It doesn’t help that the cast for the most part speaks and sings with mouths full of cotton. The orchestrations sound tinny and computerized, The lead Linedy Genao has no charisma or vocals that soar musically, instead she is rather nasal, like Bernadette Peters with a cold. Why this show is two and a half hours long is beyond me.
Grace McLean and the hunks Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman
The show is based in a town called Belleville (beautiful town en Francais), that is based solely on looks and prides itself on its superficiality. The opening number starts with “Beauty Is Our Duty,” the Queen (a fabulous Grace McLean) is into her hunks including her missing son Charming (Cameron Loyal).
Christina Acosta Robinson Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman)
And the fairy godmother (Christina Acosta Robinson) is a plastic surgeon who sings “Beauty Has a Price”. In a day and age, where we are suppose to see past all that, this show is politically incorrect.
Linedy Genao Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman
Cinderella a Gothic, and a graffiti artist, naturally does not fit into the town’s mold of beauty, which is how she earns her nickname. Her rebel move happens when she defaces a memorial statue of Sebastian’s older brother, Prince Charming. Sebastian is more of a geek, and he and Cinderella are in the “friend zone,” since both lack communication skills in admitting their love.
Carolee Carmello Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman
Sebastian is being forced by his mother, the Queen to find a wife at a ball and invites Cinderella. Cinderella’s stepmother (the always remarkable Carolee Carmello) blackmails the Queen to get one of her daughters Adele (Sami Gayle) or Marie (Morgan Higgins) the gig.
Grace McLean, Carolee Carmello Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman)
McLean and Carmello are the bright spots in the show and if the show had been about these two, maybe we would actually have a show that could work. These two steal the show.
Linedy Genao, Jordan Dobson, Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman
Cinderella has not one, but two what should have been show stopping numbers “I Know I Have A Heart (Because You Broke It)” and “Far Too Late,” but she does not have the vocals, the character development or the star power to carry them off.
The set and the revenge porn costumes by Gabriela Tylesova, are just over the top, with the storybook set faring much better than the over complicated flowered pastels that waltzed across the stage.
The direction by Laurence Connor is just dull and lacks oomph.
If you like buff men and Chippendale type choreography this is the show for you.
Bad Cinderella, Imperial Theatre, 249 West 45th Street.
On Friday, March 24th, the 96-year-old John Kander was given a Mayoral Proclamation from Mayor Eric Adams in celebration of the first performance of his new Broadway musical New York, New York. Following the proclamation, Lin-Manuel Miranda unveiled the sign renaming 44th Steet ‘Kander & Ebb Way. On hand was the Manhattan School of Music to performed the iconic Kander & Ebb song “New York, New York.”
New York, New York opens Wednesday, April 26, 2023 at Broadway’s St. James Theatre (246 West 44th Street).
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