Chain Theatre
A Will to Live
Director Rick Hamilton effectively steers the sad tale away from an endless maudlin saga. After all, the “spoiler” is in the program. Helena Weinrauch is alive and well and in her late 90’s, living in New York City. She attended the opening night of this production. We are carried by Helena’s travails – some are ultimately uplifting, like her about-face on her relationship with Wladek, a Jewish guard. She takes him to task for his participation in the black market, but he steps in to save her from death more than once. Earlier, she leaves the safe haven of living with a German couple who think Helena is married to a German officer on the front so not to put them in harm’s way when she knows she will ultimately be found out to be a Jew masquerading as a young German bride. Hamilton is conscious of needing every scene to be driven by intense depictions of rapid change in what was once a beautiful place to live. [more]
This G*d Damn House
The direction by Ella Jane New delivers this emotionally complex story with skill and sensitivity. There are only a few instances when the action doesn't entirely ring true, such as the opening scene when the brothers first enter the house. Gostkowski's presentation is somewhat distracted as if he is looking for the character's voice. Rysdahl is more in tune with his character at this early stage but is also somewhat flat in affect. They may be trying to bring out the awkwardness of two brothers trying to find their emotional footing with each other after a number of years apart. They find their footing as Act I progresses and deliver fine performances. [more]
A Tomato Can’t Grow in the Bronx
Under the permissive direction of Garfield-Szita—who also designed the costumes—the cast comes across more as members of a sitcom than a serious drama, not helped by Morgenstein’s dependence on shtick and clichés. The actors work hard to find some emotional resonance in their dialogue, particularly Kusher, O’Brien and Roche who occasionally rise above their lines. Bell Wolff as Gladys is in a world of her own. Her voice is a colorful instrument that takes Tomato into an almost surreal place. Morgenstein does have a good feel for what drives each of his characters. A sweet scene on a fire escape between Eleanor and Sammy shows that the playwright can be subtle and incisive. [more]
Garbageman
Unfortunately, Huff the author of the psychological puzzler "A Steady Rain" in which Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman starred in on Broadway in 2009, and who has written episodes of the television shows "Mad Men," "House of Cards," "American Crime," here exhibits a lack of dramatic construction. After a slack 35 minutes of wayward exposition there is finally some semblance of an actual plot. The lumpy first act lasts an hour and 20 minutes; the tauter second act runs 45 minutes. Together "Garbageman"’s two acts are a semi-satisfying experience. This is its world premiere so perhaps future incarnations will be more refined. Thankfully, its cast has stamina and delivers terrific performances. [more]
Chasing the River
The subject matter of "Chasing the River" is, of course, viable, but the play is not as nuanced and insightful as one would hope—nor is it particularly gripping. Sometimes the action feels stagey, and at other times it seems undercooked. Particularly problematic is the role of Nathaniel who is written and acted quite one-dimensionally. True, Giebel offers at least one surprising aspect of the character: We learn that he wanted a sports-playing boy-child, not daughters, and that he treated the tomboyish Kat (then called “Katie”) as a substitute for a son. We learn that he was able to gain Katie’s trust, which he then insidiously betrayed. We never wonder, however, whether he is anything other than an unrelenting nightmare of a person. There are scenes in which we see him being pleasant to Katie, but his bullying monstrousness seems always apparent. Most creeps—even the alcoholic ones—manage to hide their ugly sides now and then. [more]
I Never Sang for My Father
The trouble is Lee’s almost catatonic approach to Gene. He speaks in a toneless monotone and adapts a monolithic physical approach, his hands constantly held stiffly at his sides. When he does erupt in anger it registers as bizarre overacting rather than the culmination of a life of living under his father’s thumb. This leaves an emotional vacuum in the center of the play. Even when he delivers the poignant punch line—“Death ends a life, but it does not end a relationship”—what should have been an emotional wallop becomes a whimper. [more]