Pyrenees
by David Greig, directed by Neel Keller
Kirk Douglas Theatre, July 2 through 30, 2006
WITH Frances Conroy, Tom Irwin, Tessa Thompson, Jan Triska PRODUCTION Mark Wendland, set;
Allison Leach, costumes; Geoff Korf, lights; Robbin E. Broad and Michael Hooker, sound
The Pyrenees that give David Greig’s play its title and backdrop, while not the highest
mountains in Europe, provide plenty of height from which to fall. And missteps that
lead to falls, whether from a mountain peak or from a marriage vow, are what Mr.
Greig has in his viewfinder here. Unfortunately, the view is blurred with enough
ambiguities, intentional and/or inadvertent, to cloud the mystery with mystery. We're
lost in the mountains with a two-sided map that ultimately may not be of any use
anyway. Under Neel Keller’s careful pacing, which sometimes treads too slowly, this
American premiere by the author of ‘The Cosmonaut’s Last Message to the Woman He
Once Loved in the Former Soviet Union,’ remains intriguing, however, thanks to a
quartet of actors who give the drift real mooring.
A middle-aged man (Tom Irwin) has fallen from a precipice and landed without identification or memory. He
does have a briefcase full of money, however. As the play begins, Anna (Tessa Thompson), a young
British Embassy official dispatched to help him regain his bearings, is questioning him. His speech has been
enough to signal the British in nearby Marseilles that he is one of them. This is the second time this year that
we have had the curtain rise on a principal character who does not know who they are. In Lee Blessing’s
wonderful ‘A Body of Water’ at the Old Globe there were two, and neither knew themselves or the other. In
that case, there was one person with memory and two without. Even though the person who knew herself
changed her story occasionally, a sense of what was real did emerge by play's end. Here, there are three
people with memory, and their motives and roles in the confused man's life are undercut by one another and
themselves. There is even a hint of an otherworldly presence, hidden in one character's illness.
In a provocative Mark Wendland letterbox design that recalls Maxfield Parrish composition, we are set on the
terrace of a hotel overlooking the Pyrenees. Something about Anna is odd. She speaks as if she’s
conducted similar interviews before, but her familiarity with equipment and protocol indicates she has not.
Also odd is Anna’s willingness to cross the diplomatic line with the older man, who is understandably
smitten.
There are two other people at the hotel, the proprietor (Jan Triska), an infuriating passive-aggressive, and a
mysterious middle-aged woman named Vivienne (Frances Conroy). Vivienne and the man are able to see
beyond the proprietor’s quirky, hostile or helpful intrusions. Audience members, like Anna, will be less
successful. Triska is as over the top as Conroy is steady. It's a nice teeter-totter balance that shifts the
mood beyond the central man and Anna. But how the older folks ever embraced him to understand his
habits is another mystery.
This all sets the stage for the series of revelations that are counter-balanced by uncertainty over the people
making the disclosure or the information itself. Mysteries abound and viewers can stitch together alternate
maps to the heart of the matter. Ultimately, Greig says, we can not escape who we are. The man has
probably faked his death and, to stay anonymous, headed off with nothing more than a suitcase full of
money and no identification. His plan was to appear to have drowned at sea and leave not trace of a body.
But despite literally losing his mind, the past followed him. In the final analysis, there feels to have been too
much moving the goal posts for a clear sense of the finish line. However, with such a fine cast as this to
give these people solid footing on such slippery slopes, it as beautiful theatrical landscape as its dramatic
namesake.
by David Greig, directed by Neel Keller
Kirk Douglas Theatre, July 2 through 30, 2006
WITH Frances Conroy, Tom Irwin, Tessa Thompson, Jan Triska PRODUCTION Mark Wendland, set;
Allison Leach, costumes; Geoff Korf, lights; Robbin E. Broad and Michael Hooker, sound
The Pyrenees that give David Greig’s play its title and backdrop, while not the highest
mountains in Europe, provide plenty of height from which to fall. And missteps that
lead to falls, whether from a mountain peak or from a marriage vow, are what Mr.
Greig has in his viewfinder here. Unfortunately, the view is blurred with enough
ambiguities, intentional and/or inadvertent, to cloud the mystery with mystery. We're
lost in the mountains with a two-sided map that ultimately may not be of any use
anyway. Under Neel Keller’s careful pacing, which sometimes treads too slowly, this
American premiere by the author of ‘The Cosmonaut’s Last Message to the Woman He
Once Loved in the Former Soviet Union,’ remains intriguing, however, thanks to a
quartet of actors who give the drift real mooring.
A middle-aged man (Tom Irwin) has fallen from a precipice and landed without identification or memory. He
does have a briefcase full of money, however. As the play begins, Anna (Tessa Thompson), a young
British Embassy official dispatched to help him regain his bearings, is questioning him. His speech has been
enough to signal the British in nearby Marseilles that he is one of them. This is the second time this year that
we have had the curtain rise on a principal character who does not know who they are. In Lee Blessing’s
wonderful ‘A Body of Water’ at the Old Globe there were two, and neither knew themselves or the other. In
that case, there was one person with memory and two without. Even though the person who knew herself
changed her story occasionally, a sense of what was real did emerge by play's end. Here, there are three
people with memory, and their motives and roles in the confused man's life are undercut by one another and
themselves. There is even a hint of an otherworldly presence, hidden in one character's illness.
In a provocative Mark Wendland letterbox design that recalls Maxfield Parrish composition, we are set on the
terrace of a hotel overlooking the Pyrenees. Something about Anna is odd. She speaks as if she’s
conducted similar interviews before, but her familiarity with equipment and protocol indicates she has not.
Also odd is Anna’s willingness to cross the diplomatic line with the older man, who is understandably
smitten.
There are two other people at the hotel, the proprietor (Jan Triska), an infuriating passive-aggressive, and a
mysterious middle-aged woman named Vivienne (Frances Conroy). Vivienne and the man are able to see
beyond the proprietor’s quirky, hostile or helpful intrusions. Audience members, like Anna, will be less
successful. Triska is as over the top as Conroy is steady. It's a nice teeter-totter balance that shifts the
mood beyond the central man and Anna. But how the older folks ever embraced him to understand his
habits is another mystery.
This all sets the stage for the series of revelations that are counter-balanced by uncertainty over the people
making the disclosure or the information itself. Mysteries abound and viewers can stitch together alternate
maps to the heart of the matter. Ultimately, Greig says, we can not escape who we are. The man has
probably faked his death and, to stay anonymous, headed off with nothing more than a suitcase full of
money and no identification. His plan was to appear to have drowned at sea and leave not trace of a body.
But despite literally losing his mind, the past followed him. In the final analysis, there feels to have been too
much moving the goal posts for a clear sense of the finish line. However, with such a fine cast as this to
give these people solid footing on such slippery slopes, it as beautiful theatrical landscape as its dramatic
namesake.
The Sisters Rosensweig
by Wendy Wasserstein, directed by David Warren
Old Globe Theatre ended August 20, 2006
WITH Mark Blum, Jackie Hoffman, Marty Lodge, Deirdre Lovejoy, Stephanie Nava, Tom Nelis, Mark J.
Sullivan, Janet Zarish PRODUCTION Alexander Dodge, set; David Woolard, costumes; Jeff Croiter, lights;
Paul Peterson, sound; Cris O’Bryon, music arrangements and vocal direction
Six months after Wendy Wasserstein’s death at 55, the Old Globe Theatre has given
her 1991 ‘The Sister’s Rosensweig’ a production that is a warm reminder of her
contributions. Now, her book closed, assessments can weigh her work for its social
significance, its artistic strength, and its entertainment value. In San Diego, under
the direction of David Warren, we feel the solid structure, glimpse its political
ambitions, and are completely caught up in its humor and heart. The play’s four
women – three sisters and a daughter – able to unyoke from historic subservient roles
– aren’t any happier for it in Wasserstein’s world. In fact, they haven’t moved very far
beyond ‘The Constant Wife,’ Somerset Maugham’s social comedy set 70 years earlier
and staged several months earlier at the Globe. As far as the Jewish question of
concern to Rosensweigs and Wassersteins the world over, its specifics do not break
it from the universal message for any immigrant, minority or family group that we are
strongest when we remain true to who we are. Because Warren lets the story play
without heavy underscoring of points to be made, ‘The Sisters Rosensweig’ emerges
as a fairly old-fashioned, big-hearted, eight-character comedy about love and loss and
how balancing that equation gets harder as years advance. And, for the coup de
grace, she's created a scene stealing, crowd-pleasing character that Noel Coward
could not have written any better.
Like ‘Constant Wife,’ ‘Rosensweig’ has a large, single set that is the high-ceilinged sitting room of a wealthy
home in London. This one is owned and operated by Sara Goode (Janet Zarish), the bright and
independent single mother of a bright and independent coed, Tess (Stephanie Nava), about to bolt the nest
for a Balkan war zone with her boyfriend (Mark J. Sullivan). A successful Hong Kong banker (as
evidenced by the rich but impersonal décor), Sara will cross the threshold into her 55th year during the
play’s two-day time frame. To celebrate the event are her two sisters, the bright, independent and
globetrotting travel writer Pfeni (Deirdre Lovejoy) and the married, mother-of-four sister Gorgeous (Jackie
Hoffman). Gorgeous, while embracing her family ties, is still bright and independent enough to have her
own talk radio show back in Boston. Also along is Pfeni’s theater director boyfriend. Jeffrey (Tom Nelis),
and his friend Merv (Mark Blum), a Jewish furrier from New York in London for business and visits with
the old friend whose shows he helps costume. Everybody’s got somebody to love, except Merv, whose
wife died a few years earlier. Sara's choice, however, is the arrogant, distant and possibly anti-Semitic
Nick (Marty Lodge). Merv makes his move to the Goode when he senses Sara has subconsciously
chosen a man who is not available, while making herself unavailable to her own Jewish heritage. Merv
moves to reconnect her with her roots as he moves to connect himself with her.
The performers are all excellent, with Nelis milking the bisexual Jeffrey for all he's worth on both sides of
the bed. As Gorgeous, Hoffman is more of a question. Her voice and delivery are instantly winning, but
they don’t vary from situation to situation. This adds to the odd sense that the sisters – when they finally
get a scene alone near the end of the play – resort to schtick. Eventually, that is dropped for the kind of
heart to heart you’d expect as soon as they get out of ear-shot of the others. It’s a minor defect in a script
that in the final analysis is more mid-Century than end-of-the-century. And, when it provides the
satisfaction it does, who’s to kvetch.
by Wendy Wasserstein, directed by David Warren
Old Globe Theatre ended August 20, 2006
WITH Mark Blum, Jackie Hoffman, Marty Lodge, Deirdre Lovejoy, Stephanie Nava, Tom Nelis, Mark J.
Sullivan, Janet Zarish PRODUCTION Alexander Dodge, set; David Woolard, costumes; Jeff Croiter, lights;
Paul Peterson, sound; Cris O’Bryon, music arrangements and vocal direction
Six months after Wendy Wasserstein’s death at 55, the Old Globe Theatre has given
her 1991 ‘The Sister’s Rosensweig’ a production that is a warm reminder of her
contributions. Now, her book closed, assessments can weigh her work for its social
significance, its artistic strength, and its entertainment value. In San Diego, under
the direction of David Warren, we feel the solid structure, glimpse its political
ambitions, and are completely caught up in its humor and heart. The play’s four
women – three sisters and a daughter – able to unyoke from historic subservient roles
– aren’t any happier for it in Wasserstein’s world. In fact, they haven’t moved very far
beyond ‘The Constant Wife,’ Somerset Maugham’s social comedy set 70 years earlier
and staged several months earlier at the Globe. As far as the Jewish question of
concern to Rosensweigs and Wassersteins the world over, its specifics do not break
it from the universal message for any immigrant, minority or family group that we are
strongest when we remain true to who we are. Because Warren lets the story play
without heavy underscoring of points to be made, ‘The Sisters Rosensweig’ emerges
as a fairly old-fashioned, big-hearted, eight-character comedy about love and loss and
how balancing that equation gets harder as years advance. And, for the coup de
grace, she's created a scene stealing, crowd-pleasing character that Noel Coward
could not have written any better.
Like ‘Constant Wife,’ ‘Rosensweig’ has a large, single set that is the high-ceilinged sitting room of a wealthy
home in London. This one is owned and operated by Sara Goode (Janet Zarish), the bright and
independent single mother of a bright and independent coed, Tess (Stephanie Nava), about to bolt the nest
for a Balkan war zone with her boyfriend (Mark J. Sullivan). A successful Hong Kong banker (as
evidenced by the rich but impersonal décor), Sara will cross the threshold into her 55th year during the
play’s two-day time frame. To celebrate the event are her two sisters, the bright, independent and
globetrotting travel writer Pfeni (Deirdre Lovejoy) and the married, mother-of-four sister Gorgeous (Jackie
Hoffman). Gorgeous, while embracing her family ties, is still bright and independent enough to have her
own talk radio show back in Boston. Also along is Pfeni’s theater director boyfriend. Jeffrey (Tom Nelis),
and his friend Merv (Mark Blum), a Jewish furrier from New York in London for business and visits with
the old friend whose shows he helps costume. Everybody’s got somebody to love, except Merv, whose
wife died a few years earlier. Sara's choice, however, is the arrogant, distant and possibly anti-Semitic
Nick (Marty Lodge). Merv makes his move to the Goode when he senses Sara has subconsciously
chosen a man who is not available, while making herself unavailable to her own Jewish heritage. Merv
moves to reconnect her with her roots as he moves to connect himself with her.
The performers are all excellent, with Nelis milking the bisexual Jeffrey for all he's worth on both sides of
the bed. As Gorgeous, Hoffman is more of a question. Her voice and delivery are instantly winning, but
they don’t vary from situation to situation. This adds to the odd sense that the sisters – when they finally
get a scene alone near the end of the play – resort to schtick. Eventually, that is dropped for the kind of
heart to heart you’d expect as soon as they get out of ear-shot of the others. It’s a minor defect in a script
that in the final analysis is more mid-Century than end-of-the-century. And, when it provides the
satisfaction it does, who’s to kvetch.
Tom Irwin
Jan Triska
Tessa Thompson
CRAIG SCHWARTZ
Jan Triska
Tessa Thompson
CRAIG SCHWARTZ
Deirdre Lovejoy
Janet Zarish
CRAIG SCHWARTZ
Janet Zarish
CRAIG SCHWARTZ
| THEATER TIMES REVIEWS AUGUST 2006 |
The Last Five Years
written and composed by Jason Robert Brown, directed by Nick Degruccio
Musical Direction, additional arrangements, David O; Choreography by Lee Martino
Pasadena Playhouse June 30 through August 6, 2006
WITH Misty Cotton, Daniel Tatar; and David O, piano, and Sarah O’Brien, cello PRODUCTION Tom
Buderwitz, set; Jean-Pierre Dorleac, costumes; Steven Young, lights; Frederick W. Boot, sound.
This season the Pasadena Playhouse had an artistic achievement in Cornerstone's ‘As
You Like It.’ But it did not muster the business it deserved. It attracted better
audiences with ‘Diva’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes,’ but that also got deservedly negative
reviews. Finally, with Jason Robert Brown’s ‘The Last Five Years,’ in repertory
through August 6 with ‘I Do, I Do'* under the chuppah of ‘The Marriage Plays,’ they
have a production of quality that should generate a healthy quantity of sales. 'The
Last FiveYears' combines an intriguing structure, Brown's semi-confessional story set
to engaging music and lyrics, and director Nick Degruccio’s ability to whip it together
to showcase the irresistible talents of his stars, Misty Cotton and Daniel Tatar.
The self-mocking Sondheim characters who sang, “Are we a pair? Me here at last on the ground; you in
mid-air,” would get a kick out of the elaborate teeter totter Brown has devised to motor ‘The Last Five
Years.’ The play has two timelines: Cathy’s, which moves backwards through the past five years, and
Jamie’s, which begins five years ago and proceeds forward to today. The equal time formula, however,
doesn’t translate to even-handed stories, as Brown stacks the deck in Jamie’s favor. When we meet Cathy
(Misty Cotton), to open the show, she’s tearfully tearing the last letter from Jamie (Daniel Tatar), a man with
whom she evidently has been deeply involved and will now greatly miss. Jamie then bounces in on air for
his first tune. Which of the two would you want to spend the show watching? While Cathy's just lost her
man, Jamie’s just met the girl of his dreams. What's more, he's also excited to be getting some traction on
his writing career. As one will make his way in the world; the other will retreat into memories of better
times. What’s more, ate philandering to his moment that produced Cathy’s opening song. Meanwhile, Cathy’
s story will proceed in reverse to where she is only meeting Jamie as the show comes to a close.
Director Degruccio keeps it moving with musical director-pianist David O – last seen as musical director-
pianist of A Noise Within’s gleeful ‘Ubu Roi’ – and cellist Sarah O’Brien. The singers and musicians keep the
ballads lush and the up-tempo tunes jumping. The two singers excel in different but complementary styles.
Cotton has great power, but colors the delivery of each song with the right emotion. She has to start the
show on the losing end, but manages to mitigate that by maintaining her strength. The sadness, though it
can definitely be felt, never compromises her clarity of character. Tatar, while not as strong a singer,
particularly at the top and bottom of the registers, also packs his numbers with personality to burn. His
special knack for blues and rock inflection is layered on his charisma. The whole show has that kind of
appeal.
Part of the reason this production may seem weightier than the off-Broadway premiere a few years back is
simply the theater itself. Crowded in a corner of the Minetta Lane, the New York set’s upstage wall felt
jammed in. Here, Tom Buderwitz’s series of 15 empty frames is hung on a large broken rectangle that is
comfortably framed by the proscenium. It tells its own tale of the marriage. Photos of the couple from
happier times are shown one by one to illustrate songs. These snapshot memories will survive, Degruccio
and Buderwitz allow, even when the big picture of the relationship is in pieces. As time moves along, each
character will come to appreciate the good times. For the Pasadena Playhouse, ‘Last Five Years’ is a good
time they’ll benefit from immediately.
written and composed by Jason Robert Brown, directed by Nick Degruccio
Musical Direction, additional arrangements, David O; Choreography by Lee Martino
Pasadena Playhouse June 30 through August 6, 2006
WITH Misty Cotton, Daniel Tatar; and David O, piano, and Sarah O’Brien, cello PRODUCTION Tom
Buderwitz, set; Jean-Pierre Dorleac, costumes; Steven Young, lights; Frederick W. Boot, sound.
This season the Pasadena Playhouse had an artistic achievement in Cornerstone's ‘As
You Like It.’ But it did not muster the business it deserved. It attracted better
audiences with ‘Diva’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes,’ but that also got deservedly negative
reviews. Finally, with Jason Robert Brown’s ‘The Last Five Years,’ in repertory
through August 6 with ‘I Do, I Do'* under the chuppah of ‘The Marriage Plays,’ they
have a production of quality that should generate a healthy quantity of sales. 'The
Last FiveYears' combines an intriguing structure, Brown's semi-confessional story set
to engaging music and lyrics, and director Nick Degruccio’s ability to whip it together
to showcase the irresistible talents of his stars, Misty Cotton and Daniel Tatar.
The self-mocking Sondheim characters who sang, “Are we a pair? Me here at last on the ground; you in
mid-air,” would get a kick out of the elaborate teeter totter Brown has devised to motor ‘The Last Five
Years.’ The play has two timelines: Cathy’s, which moves backwards through the past five years, and
Jamie’s, which begins five years ago and proceeds forward to today. The equal time formula, however,
doesn’t translate to even-handed stories, as Brown stacks the deck in Jamie’s favor. When we meet Cathy
(Misty Cotton), to open the show, she’s tearfully tearing the last letter from Jamie (Daniel Tatar), a man with
whom she evidently has been deeply involved and will now greatly miss. Jamie then bounces in on air for
his first tune. Which of the two would you want to spend the show watching? While Cathy's just lost her
man, Jamie’s just met the girl of his dreams. What's more, he's also excited to be getting some traction on
his writing career. As one will make his way in the world; the other will retreat into memories of better
times. What’s more, ate philandering to his moment that produced Cathy’s opening song. Meanwhile, Cathy’
s story will proceed in reverse to where she is only meeting Jamie as the show comes to a close.
Director Degruccio keeps it moving with musical director-pianist David O – last seen as musical director-
pianist of A Noise Within’s gleeful ‘Ubu Roi’ – and cellist Sarah O’Brien. The singers and musicians keep the
ballads lush and the up-tempo tunes jumping. The two singers excel in different but complementary styles.
Cotton has great power, but colors the delivery of each song with the right emotion. She has to start the
show on the losing end, but manages to mitigate that by maintaining her strength. The sadness, though it
can definitely be felt, never compromises her clarity of character. Tatar, while not as strong a singer,
particularly at the top and bottom of the registers, also packs his numbers with personality to burn. His
special knack for blues and rock inflection is layered on his charisma. The whole show has that kind of
appeal.
Part of the reason this production may seem weightier than the off-Broadway premiere a few years back is
simply the theater itself. Crowded in a corner of the Minetta Lane, the New York set’s upstage wall felt
jammed in. Here, Tom Buderwitz’s series of 15 empty frames is hung on a large broken rectangle that is
comfortably framed by the proscenium. It tells its own tale of the marriage. Photos of the couple from
happier times are shown one by one to illustrate songs. These snapshot memories will survive, Degruccio
and Buderwitz allow, even when the big picture of the relationship is in pieces. As time moves along, each
character will come to appreciate the good times. For the Pasadena Playhouse, ‘Last Five Years’ is a good
time they’ll benefit from immediately.
Misty Cotton
CRAIG SCHWARTZ
CRAIG SCHWARTZ
PEAK PERFORMANCE
MEMORY SERVICE
The Last Five Years
Pasadena Playhouse
Kirk Douglas Theatre
Old Globe Theatre
Pasadena Playhouse
Kirk Douglas Theatre
Old Globe Theatre
