| . | 03/29/2009
Editors Notes: Blithe Spirit, West Side Story, God of Carnage, Impressionism
By: Jeannie Lieberman
Maybe its because I have always admired Angela Lansbury, the grande dame of theater, for her dignity even in lighter roles such as Mame, that I broke into unexpected gales of laughter as she cavorted onstage as the ditzy soothsayer in Noel Coward’s fluffy Blithe Spirit. Gloriously over the top, she is to be treasured. Sublimely cast, Christine Ebersole is a beautifully mischievous spirit of the first wife, and we are lucky to have Brit imports the suave Rupert Everett and his tortured second wife Jayne Atkinson. With Coward’s own songs setting the mood this frothy piece is just right as a pick me up – you will leave smiling, I guarantee it.
(see Simon Saltzman’s review)
Maybe its because the movie of West Side Story has been my sole reference for so long that I forgot there is no substitute for live theater! No matter what perceived shortcomings the critics have been braying about, when you hear Leonard Bernstein’s rich score and see the story through Jerome Robbins’ unique choreography (after all, it was a ballet before it became a musical) and meet the fresh young leads, I cannot imagine anyone feeling they were better off not seeing this.
(review to come)
Maybe its because I was never a Sopranos addict, and, for me, watching domestic squabbles is like hearing chalk screeching on a blackboard, that I expected an uncomfortable evening at best, but I ended up laughing in the aisle. Gandolfini is the God of Carnage, his every utterance and response was so well paced and multilayered you could almost read his mind before he speaks, and watch as the rest of the magnificent cast disintegrate from politely civilized to crazed parents of two feuding 11 year olds. Author Yasmina Reza (Art) brings a European physicality and a manic energy that narrowly misses farce under the tight direction of Matthew Warchus (who is unafraid to use long awkward pauses for the audience as well as the performers) and a cast, Marcia Gay Hardin, Jeff Daniels, Hope Davis, that should be rewarded for just surviving one show let alone eight a week!
(see Victor Gluck’s review)
Maybe its because this show was so severely trashed by the critics that it already had underdog appeal for me, but there should be no apologies for Impressionism. It is the most beautiful show on Broadway, with projections of the master painters of the era enlarged and creatively grouped in gorgeous color, bathed in Bob James’ soothing piano music, that make it worth the price of a ticket alone (albeit discounted). True there is little chemistry between the brittle Joan Allen as the gallery owner who doesn’t want to part with her pictures and the bland Jeremy Irons, a photojournalist who won’t shoot until he sees something really worthwhile (guess who!) but the cameo appearances of Andre de Sheilds, Marsha Mason, Aaron Lazar, Margarita Levieva and Hadley Delany in the picture-inspired autobiographical anecdotes beautifully supplement the play. Gentle and funny, it is a marvelous break from the other manic antics of Broadway.
(see Andy Smith’s review)
…and we are only half through the season’s new arrivals……….
Jeannie Lieberman, editor
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