Marie (Marisa Tomei) and Bruce (Frank Whaley) are in for quite a day in Wallace Shawn revival (photo by Monique Carboni)
Acorn Theatre, Theatre Row
410 West 42nd St. between Ninth & Tenth Aves.
Through May 7, $60
212-239-6200
www.thenewgroup.org
This year the New Group is honoring lawyer Fred Wistow and playwright Wallace Shawn at its May 9 gala benefit; in the case of the latter, it can’t be for the current revival of his 1979 show, Marie and Bruce, now playing at the Acorn at Theatre Row. As the audience enters the theater, Marie (Marisa Tomei) is tossing about in bed while her husband, Bruce (Frank Whaley), appears to be sleeping comfortably, setting the stage for what could be a rather tumultuous day in the life of this not-very–happy couple. Soon Marie is addressing the crowd directly, complaining about Bruce; when he eventually wakes up, she lets him have it, spewing curses and telling him how much she hates him. Frank responds by putting on urine-stained pants, making coffee, and somewhat sarcastically repeatedly calling her “darling.” That scene’s not too bad; nor is the ending, when Marie and Bruce discuss their immediate future at a small restaurant. Unfortunately, in between, the bulk of the play takes place at a party that is simply excruciating to watch. The attendees are all seated at a round table that slowly spins as snippets of chatter build up and then fade away, never finishing any thoughts or allowing these minor characters to develop. The audience is left to feel like they’ve paid good money ($60 in this case) to go to a party that doesn’t want them there, filled with people they can’t stand being around. It’s jaw-droppingly offensive and hard not to want to bounce Marie’s epithets right back at Shawn and the director, Scott Elliott. Even if their intent was to make the audience feel uncomfortable — both Shawn and Elliott have not shied away from experimental moments throughout their careers — well, they’ve succeeded beyond their wildest imagination, presenting a production that is impossible to recommend, even to the most masochistic of theatergoers.