"In Transit" at the Circle in the Square (through June 25,2017)

The Cast

That I had to be reminded that I had previously seen and reviewed “In Transit” when it first appeared in a Primary Stage production at 59E59 in 2010, suggests one or two things: it was either negligible and forgettable or that its impact on me at the time was simply that of a pleasant but passing diversion. Now I can say that the newly envisioned version that has arrived at the Circle in the Square is once again diverting but more importantly greatly accessorized and enhanced for Broadway.

This is the work of director-choreographer Kathleen Marshall who has staged the show three quarters in the round. Moving along like an express train, it has more moving parts, more dazzling visual and lighting effects that had the previous version. A terrific cast, all of whom are excellent singers, navigates through this show with notable enthusiasm, often at  break neck speed. Unexpectedly captivating if also intentionally episodic, the show quickly involves us with a group of rather ordinary, let's say unexceptional, men and women. That they all become increasingly endearing as they go about their various pursuits is the strength and the delight of “In Transit.”But what makes it exceptional is the musical concept/conceit that drives the action: A Cappella, or group singing without instrumental backup.

The composers — Kristen Anderson-Lopez, James-Allen Ford, Russ Kaplan and Sara Wordsworth — have created a patchwork of complex harmonics, melodies and riffs that define the show's various characters. The score also resounds admirably with the pulse and the sounds of the city.

Marshall keeps the highly energized company moving gingerly both in the subway and in their occasional forays above ground. Set designer Donyale Werle has created a commendably detailed depiction of a subway station on two levels with a moving tread mill down the center of the lower playing area. The crackling, often incomprehensible public address system gets laughs as does "attitude" from a nasty Booth Lady (Moya Angela, who also plays several other roles). There's an on-going conflict between her and Nate (James Snyder,) a young man laid off from his job in finance by the current recession who may never get to an important job interview because his metro card has been eaten up by a faulty machine.

Chessney Show (repeating his original role but alternating with Steven “Heaven” Cantor) is the street savvy Boxman and the show’s rhythmic, and sound effects-making centerpiece. He serves as a bridge to the other characters as he lyrically describes himself "It's Box for Boom Man, It's Box for Beat Man, It's Box for open, receptive and yet complete, Man." His virtuosic rap arias are integrated with some specifically non-human sounds, providing a generous helping of vocal support.

The Boxman is particularly supportive of Jane (Margo Seibert) the young aspiring actress with a temp job who is off to an audition and in whom he takes a friendly interest. He also helps Nate get through the turnstile. But don't expect Jane to turn into an overnight star or Nate to nail a great new job with a corner office. This being a musical, what you can expect is for Jane and Nate to add a touch of romance to the plot.

  Trent (Justin Guarini) and Steven (Telly Leung) are also prominent as two gay guys who want to get married among the thirty-eight characters who traverse this lyrically-enhanced realm with big problems. Trent is particularly worried about their visit to his religious mother in Texas (Moya Angela again). Ali (Erin Mackey)recently broke up with her boyfriend and is destined (maybe) to spend all her Saturday nights alone. This is a musical that determinedly wants us to feel and share the anxieties and the stress of easily recognizable types in transit. If there is a purposefully prescribed banality to the overly familiar situations these people are facing, we are nevertheless inclined to be empathetic to the strengths and the sensibilities they reveal as resident and very typical New Yorkers.

All the performers are impressive as soloists as they are as backup singers for each other. If I find it difficult to single out specific songs, it is, nevertheless, easy to appreciate a musical in which the lyrics offer a multi-layered portrait of life in Manhattan. We don't often get to enjoy the purity of the a cappella musical, but this is one that winningly asserts itself with its lyrical and harmonic charms.

"Life is For Living: Conversations with Coward" at 59E59

David Shrubsole at piano and Simon Green  (photo credit: Heidi Bohnenkamp

“There are probably greater painters than Noel, greater novelists than Noel, greater librettists, composers of music, singers, greater dancers, comedians, tragedians, stage producers, film directors, cabaret artists and TV stars. If there are, they are twelve different people. Only one man combined all twelve labels - The Master.” - quote (that begins and ends the show) from Lord Louis Mountbatten.

The audience for this intimate entertainment is seated, or rather squeezed, around small cocktail tables in presumably the smallest space at 59E59. The thought of survival in an emergency becomes a question even before the start of Simon Green’s otherwise reverential and rewarding cabaret-styled act in adoration of the ascribed “master” of all things theatrical Sir Noel Coward. It takes only a minute to forget that you feel as if (as my companion described it) “we’ve been stuffed into an ice-cube tray” and surrender to selections mainly taken from Coward’s letters, prose, poetry, and diaries and of course his plentiful canon of songs, purposely chosen for their unfamiliarity than we might otherwise expect.

Mr. Green is a tall, nice-looking gentleman with a poise, presence and demeanor that is tailor-made (liked that snazzy vest) to represent, if not impersonate, the aura of Sir Noel as he segues from text to tune (a couple of dozen) with artful and obligatory precision. Green sings well enough and at times very well, indeed.

It is, however, in the subtext of Green’s special material and in his exemplary performance that we see Coward’s views of a changing world. This is most evident in his ability to give some of the sharp turns and clever twists in the mostly mirthful lyrics a touch of melancholy. Such brittle and, indeed, comical ditties as “What’s Going to Happen to the Tots,” and “I’ve Been to a Marvelous Party” and “I’m Here for a Short Visit” suddenly become astute social commentaries even as they remain insistently quaint.

  

Green gets major and marvelous assist from his accompanist and composer David Shrubsole who doesn’t miss a beat following Green’s breezy and purposely fluid narrative. Shrubsole’s own lilting music and lyrics are woven seamlessly into the program that also somewhat mysteriously but not without intent, interpolates songs by Irving Berlin, the Gershwins, and Cole Porter and the less known Ivor Novello, with the latter the closest to him in sentiment if not snap.

The opportunity for Green to snap came during his performance at the Sunday matinee I attended when a woman seated in the first row continued to talk during a song. Green stopped and glared at her and then gently asked her “Is anything wrong ...(silence) You’re speaking. I’m doing a show.” He apologized to the audience and brought us back to Coward’s world without a ripple. A line from one of the amusing songs contributed by Shrubsole defined that moment beautifully: “Everybody thinks they’re someone, including me.”

 "Life is For Living: Conversations with Coward"  at 59E59 through January 1, 2017

"Othello" at New York Theatre Workshop through January 18,2017

David Oyelowo and Daniel Craig (photo: Chad Batka)

Daring and deliberately unconventional interpretations of the Bard’s great tragedy about power and jealousy abound as they do with almost all the play’s in the canon. “Othello” has been envisioned again with an emphasis on the action taking place in its own graphically conceptualized and realistically militarized time, as well as being dutifully respectful to the classic text. In the hands of director Sam Gold (“Fun Home”) for the New York Theatre Workshop,  it becomes the most extraordinary and chilling production of Shakespeare’s tragic play I have ever seen.

That the story’s psychosexual subtext remains its most interesting aspect gives a creative director and his splendid cast plenty of opportunity to dig beneath all the obligatory sound and fury. Othello may not be able to completely escape his origins as the Moor of Venice, but the now un-moored (no pun intended) Army General we see in combat fatigues is played by a brilliantly intense David Oyelowo. He is still waging war with Turkey and in charge of a diverse multi-cultural squad of  tough well-armed soldiers, including that weasel and second-in-command Iago. He is played with steely eyed conviction by a terrific Daniel Craig.  

The evocative setting created designer Andrew Lieberman has the audience seated on bleachers (fairly comfortable) with backs that surround three-sides of the playing area. Flat army cots in rows are moved about on a plain wooden floor and pulled out of view for different scenes, as is all the equipment and the gear that fill the barracks.

We are thrust into a world in which the characters whom we know traditionally are now seen in the light of modern warfare and even politics. As it has always been, it is the sexual politics that are at the forefront of this Othello. Although Shakespeare doesn’t dwell on or insinuate more than meets our eyes and ears in the various relationships, all revolving around Othello’s wife Desdemona’s innocence or lack of, we can always speculate in this case given the depth and the degree of nuance in the performances by both Oyelowo and Craig.

Of all Shakespeare’s tragedies, Othello is the one that I have always found to be the most exasperating. Of course, it is to the play’s credit that it can rile one up time after time. It used to be that seeing this almost melodramatic dramatic trine catapulted to their doom for no more good reason than a misplaced handkerchief would make me want to yell out to Othello, “You stupid fool.”

Although performed with passion run amok Oyelowo, Othello still too easily succumbs to that “green-eyed monster.” A victim of political and amorous intrigue, Othello is also notably burdened by his concealed securities not to mention his epileptic fits. That is enough baggage for any actor. Oyelowo, however, does very well by this given Othello’s tendency to rant and to rage, blinded as much by his sudden success and power as he is by the machinations of Iago, his ensign and closest friend.

Mainly known as a film star rugged-looking Craig has given laudable performances on Broadway in “Betrayal” and “A Steady Rain.” In this his NYTW debut, he is spell-binding and invests the devious, duplicitous Iago with a steadfastly articulate voice and a stealthily Machiavellian swagger. Being more down-to-earth than demure, Rachel Brosnahan (NYTW debut) is not your typical Desdemona but she earns our empathy with her heartbreaking pleas.

Finn Wittrock is virile and charismatic as the duped Lieutenant Cassio. Matthew Maher makes a strong impression as the misguided, always lurking-in-the-shadows Roderigo. There are fine performances by the two other two principal women Marsha Stephanie Blake, as Iago’s wife and Nikki Massoud, as Cassio’s mistress.

The lighting design by Jane Cox and sound design by Bray Poor are as dramatically exciting as are the performances. Three hours and ten minutes have never gone by so swiftly and so thrillingly.

“Othello” (through January 18, 2017)

New York Theatre Workshop, 79 E. 4th Street

"A Bronx Tale: The New Musical" at the Longacre Theatre

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Nick Cordero and Hudson Loverrro (Joan Marcus)

I’m not surprised that “A Bronx Tale: The New Musical” has found its way to Broadway following its run last February at the Paper Mill House. It’s an okay show with a pleasing score, a mostly predictable plot and ingratiating performances. It’s also okay if you, like me, never saw “A Bronx Tale” either in its original form as a one-man Off Broadway show in 1989, the 1993 fleshed-out film version, or its  return engagement on Broadway in 2007 in which its author and star Chazz Palminteri once again took the audience back to the 1960s Bronx neighborhood of his youth and where he grew up under the influence of two father figures, his own an upstanding bus driver and that of the local Godfather.

The introduction, for myself, to this somewhat dark, purposefully discomforting tale told in the light of its latest incarnation as a musical turns out to be for the most part an enjoyable entertainment. This song-filled, exuberantly acted and smartly staged trip down one man’s unapologetically sentimentalized memory lane should please the folks who harbor nostalgic memories of neighborhoods divided by racial lines and territorial gangsters.

Despite its tendency  (make that its aim), to romanticize the thugs and goons that reigned over New York’s ethnic-divided neighborhoods as did also the more homogeneous ones like Manhattan in the much more satirical “Guys and Dolls,”  this autobiographical musical does neither completely glorify nor wholeheartedly denounce these denizens. Comfortable with killing as they are, these often deplorable characters are, however cautiously idolized, in the eyes of its youthful narrator who as a nine year-old witnesses a street killing.

Under the guidance of two directors Jerry Zaks (who directed the stage version) and Robert De Niro (who directed the film), the production, has, as its main asset, a vibrant score by Hollywood and Disney favorite Alan Menken (“Little Shop of Horrors,” “Beauty and the Beast,” “The Little Mermaid,” “Newsies,” “Aladdin”) that that essentially puts the show into its orbit. Its joyously integrated pretensions of the Doo Op era are perfectly blended in the best Broadway tradition.

Menken’s collaborator-lyricist Glen Slater (“Mermaid”) who is also represented now on Broadway by “School of Rock,” has done beautifully by empowering the ear-pleasing melodies with street lingo and with an unaffected honesty. One song “Nicky Machiavelli,” in which top gangster Sonny (as played with sustained panache by Nick Cordero) conveys to the young Calogaro (at the performance I saw a wonderful Hudson Loverro who is alternating with Athen Sporek) the philosophy that he acquired doing time in prison.

It’s that conflict of philosophies between the swaggering Sonny and that of Calogaro’s loving but stern father Lorenzo (Richard H. Blake) that is the basis for the plot. Lorenzo has to keep reminding Calogaro that there is “nothing so sad as a talent that’s wasted.” Which philosophical perspective is the one Calogaro is to believe confuses the impressionable youth. His choice, as the musical would have us believe, basically determines his moral and ethical path for the next eight years. The show effectively uses both the young Calogero and an excellent Bobby Conte Thornton as the seventeen year-old Calogero and who serves as is the musical’s narrator throughout as he also cleverly shadows his younger self in the early scenes.

Not quite left in the shadows is Calogero’s loving mother Rosina, played with warmth to spare by Lucia Giannetta who gets to reprise a lovely ballad “Look to Your Heart” previously introduced by her husband and son. The musical also considers the racial divide between the blacks who live in the Webster Avenue section and the Italians who live in the Belmont Ave section of the borough. A sweet but also dangerous romance blossoms between Calogero and Jane a pretty black student who is appealingly played by Ariana Debose. It triggers violence and  a tragedy.  Notwithstanding shades of “West Side Story” in the plot, the choreography by Sergio Trujillo is exciting as it offers some dynamic dancing by both the black and white performers. There are also sweet moments supplied by a street-corner doo wop quartet.

Beowulf Borritt’s spectacular set design frames the action with towering rotating tenements with metal fire escape balconies, as well as the row houses on 187 St and Belmont Avenue. The local bar and other locations are seamlessly integrated, all under the superb lighting by Howell Binkley. As expected, costume designer William Ivey Long captures the look of the era perfectly with his expected flair. There is no doubt that the habitués of Schubert Alley will enjoy this diverting trip to Belmont Avenue. 

"A Bronx Tale: The New Musical"

Longacre Theatre, 220 West 48th Street