Boundaries of all types are tested in Ronnie Larsen’s comedic and big-hearted family chronicle, The Actors. The line between Democrat and Republican is pulled taut, as is the division between atheist and religious believer. But those are relatively minor concerns for the playwright. More to the point are the boundaries of grief and how to break through them, the borders of what constitutes a family, and what limits stage actors might burst through when their roles take over their lives. As farcical as it is melancholy, there are as many surprise door knocks in the play’s two acts and two hours as there are woeful revelations.
Near the end of the Barry Manilow musical Harmony, the surviving Comedian Harmonist Ari Leschnikoff, “a Bulgarian singing waiter” who survived the Holocaust to return to his home country, brags to a rabbi: “We saved them, Rabbi! Every Jewish person in Bulgaria! We wouldn’t let them have them! Not one!” This startling declaration, which demanded elaboration, is the foundation of The Brief Life & Mysterious Death of Boris III, King of Bulgaria. The story of Boris III might have remained a historical footnote but for Sasha Wilson, the cowriter of the piece (with Joseph Cullen), whose grandparents escaped Bulgaria during World War II. It turns out that the history of Bulgaria in the 20th century is far more complicated than the Harmony passage suggests.
An underlying anxiety is on display in Abe Koogler’s Staff Meal about the appeal of his absurdist play: exhibit A is a character listed as Audience Member in the program (Stephanie Berry), who interrupts the proceedings about 30 minutes into the show to offer a detailed explanation of why she is not pleased:
Is this a play about restaurants or the people who work there? I’d happily watch a play about that—if it was different.
Take a stand! Inspire action! Touch our hearts—or at least you should try!
We’ve given this gift to you of our evening—one of our precious few nights on this earth—and you’re showing us this?????
Ben Target’s solo show Lorenzo is an end-of-life comedy that is both joyful and surprising. Written and performed by Target (pronounced Tar-ZHAY), and directed by Adam Brace and Lee Griffiths, it is an autobiographical 65 minutes that focuses on a time when Target gave up his work as a comedian to become a live-in caretaker for an aging family friend, “Uncle” Lorenzo Wong.
Playwright Sarah Ruhl and performance-artist Taylor Mac, both recipients of MacArthur Foundation “genius grants” and past finalists for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, are currently at the Signature Theatre for a revival of Ruhl’s 1998 adaptation of Orlando, the 1928 novel by Virginia Woolf. Mac, who’s playing the title role, is renowned as a dramatist but, on this occasion, serves strictly as an actor.
The programs handed out at Martyna Majok’s Sanctuary City, produced by New York Theatre Workshop and presented at the Lucille Lortel Theatre, note that they have been “frozen in time”: they were printed for the play’s original run, which began in March 2020, and are now accompanied by a QR code providing updated information. This new information includes a remount director, Caitlin Sullivan, in addition to the original direction by Rebecca Frecknall.
It finally dawned on me that theater was back in New York City when I was once again in the presence of characters in a Richard Nelson play as they sliced bread, grated cheese, sipped wine, and had conversations that made you feel like an eavesdropper more than an audience member.
Farce, with its antic misunderstandings and confused identities, can polarize audiences. Spectators may either be exhilarated by the pandemonium or left cold. With Merry Wives: A Celebration of Black Joy and Vitality, the sole production of this summer’s Free Shakespeare in Central Park, playwright Jocelyn Bioh gambles that, after a year of societal strife, she can unify audiences by updating William Shakespeare’s rambunctious farce The Merry Wives of Windsor.
If you’ve never watched Friends, the TV megahit that aired from 1994–2004, that wouldn’t preclude you from enjoying Friends: The Musical Parody. It’s hysterically funny, and concisely captures the idiosyncrasies of every one of the six characters who provokes, pairs off with, or parts ways with another.
Many an autobiographical solo show has been born from hardship— growing up closeted, say, or having an intolerable job, or living through a war. Lori Brown Mirabal’s jumping-off point is the complete opposite. It’s right there in her show’s title, Charmed Life: From Soul Singing to Opera Star.
In Fruma-Sarah (Waiting in the Wings), the multitalented Jackie Hoffman portrays Ariana Russo, a barely talented amateur actor who is literally and figuratively at the end of her rope. Stuck in the minor role of the ghostly and ghastly Fruma-Sarah, in a community theater staging of Fiddler on the Roof in Roselle Park, N.J., she must spend the first “hour and seven minutes” of the show offstage, strapped in her flying harness and waiting for her cue to soar.
