Mia Gentile (left) as Teresa, Mary Testa is Aunt May, and Robert Farrior is Aldo in a revival of John Patrick Shanley’s Italian American Reconciliation at the Flea Theatre.
In a spirited revival of John Patrick Shanley’s Italian American Reconciliation, director Austin Pendleton brings fresh verve to the tale of Huey, a lovelorn dreamer who enlists his best friend, Aldo, to help win back his fiery ex-wife, Janice. The production captures the play’s blend of romantic folly and heartfelt yearning that first endeared it to audiences decades ago.
Wade McCollum portrays the lovelorn Huey (left) with his best friend Aldo.
Subtitled “A Folktale,” the play unfolds like a comic opera of love and redemption, steeped in the conventions of romantic comedy—mistaken identities, impassioned declarations, and even a balcony scene that nods to Romeo and Juliet. Shanley’s world, as in his script for Moonstruck, brims with heightened emotion and exuberantly outsized characters, none more fearsome than Janice, who once went so far during the marriage as to shoot their dog.
Drawing on the playwright’s experiences with divorce and the relationship with his mother, and using an explicit and detailed Italian-American cultural backdrop, Italian American Reconciliation expands into something larger: a bittersweet fable about manhood, forgiveness, and the unruly nature of love itself. Or, as Aldo confides to the audience, breaking the fourth wall from the get-go:
In fact, I am here tonight to teach you something. You wanna think of it that way, you’re my class. And what I’m gonna do is, I’m gonna tell you a story. About my friend Huey and me, and what happened to him.
Under Pendleton’s direction, Shanley’s 1988 play achieves a vivid emotional texture that feels both spontaneous and deeply considered. A veteran of the American stage, Pendleton is renowned for drawing out truth through inquiry—posing questions that lead actors to discover rather than declare their characters’ inner lives. That sensibility is palpable here: the performances feel lived-in, alert to the contradictions in Shanley’s writing, where tenderness and volatility coexist.
Pendleton’s collaborative touch also shapes the production’s tone and pacing. He works with designers and actors to build an environment that supports risk and invention, allowing the humor to emerge organically rather than as shtick. The result is a revival that feels less like a nostalgic return and more like a renewed conversation—with Shanley’s text, with the actors, and with the audience in the room, invited to rediscover love’s messy, necessary reconciliations.
Set in the present day, the action unfolds on Scott Aronow’s compact unit set, which fluidly suggests three distinct corners of Little Italy: Pop’s Soup House, Huey’s apartment, and the rear of Janice’s home. Each locale is rendered with as much realism as the intimate space allows. Pop’s Soup House comes complete with counter, stools, and the requisite diner paraphernalia, crowned by a sign that wryly commands, “Mangia E Statti Zitto!” (“Eat and shut up!”). Huey’s apartment is modestly defined by a small round table and a pair of chairs, while Janice’s two-story façade—with a porch, French window, and balcony festooned with lights—evokes a storybook charm that suits Shanley’s folktale atmosphere.
The anchor of the production is Wade McCollum as the endearing, openhearted Huey, a man so ruled by feeling that even his follies seem heroic. At one point, he casts himself in Biblical terms, underscoring the play’s central theme of reclaiming manhood:
I’m like Samson, and Janice is the woman who cut my hair and broke my strength. I want my strength of being a man back, and I’ve got to go to Janice for that.
Aldo approaches Huey’s ex-wife Janice (Linda Manning) as part of a plan to prevent Huey from going back to a toxic conjugal relationship. Photographs by Scott Aronow.
Opposite Huey, Robert Farrior brings easy charm and sly humor to Aldo, the friend whose earthy common sense keeps Shanley’s romantic excesses grounded—and guarantees a laugh a minute. Whether he’s musing about “the mystery of having an erection” or bluntly explaining the purpose of friendship (“Friends are those people appointed in your life to blow the whistle when you’re insane”), Aldo provides a wry counterpoint to Huey’s headlong idealism.
As Huey’s new girlfriend Teresa (the waitress who works behind the counter at Pop's Soup House), Mia Gentile radiates warmth and quiet yearning—until Huey mistakenly calls her Janice, and her tenderness gives way to disbelief. Mary Testa, in a beautifully understated turn as the neighborhood’s wise-woman, Aunt May, lends the production its emotional ballast, offering a voice of reason amid the comic tumult: “But I do wonder why I’ve been through the things I’ve been through. If all this stuff I remember is wisdom or just lint.” And as Janice, Linda Manning captures both the danger and magnetism of a woman who terrifies everyone, delivering a performance that’s equal parts fury, wit, and wounded pride.
Pendleton’s revival reminds us that Shanley’s folktale still beats with a big, unruly heart—and that love, however bruising, remains the most human reconciliation of all.
Zowie Productions’ Italian American Reconciliation plays through Oct. 26 at the Flea Theater (20 Thomas St.). Evening performances are at 7:30 p.m. Thursday through Saturday and 5 p.m. Sunday; matinees are at 2 p.m. Saturday. For tickets and more information, visit theflea.org.
Playwright: John Patrick Shanley
Director: Austin Pendleton
Scenic Design: Scott Aronow
Lighting Design: Annie Garrett-Larsen
Costume Design: Ariel Pellman
