Cecily Strong makes her New York stage debut in The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe (photo by Kate Glicksberg for the Shed)
THE SEARCH FOR SIGNS OF INTELLIGENT LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE
Griffin Theater at the Shed, the Bloomberg Building
545 West 30th St. at Eleventh Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through February 6, $49-129
646-455-3494
theshed.org
Covid-19 has changed the way we experience live theater. Simply lining up to get in, theatergoers run into different rules at different venues, some more invasive and slow going than others.
So when I whisked right into the Shed’s Griffin Theater to see Cecily Strong in a revival of The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe, I was initially disappointed to see so many empty seats fairly close to curtain time. I couldn’t help but wonder if people were staying away because of the omicron variant, because they were waiting for the reviews to come out, because Strong was not a big enough theatrical name (which I doubted), or because there had been some kind of bad word of mouth that hadn’t made it my way.
Fortunately, I was wrong in all cases, as the crowd streamed in to nearly fill the place. The opening lines of the play recognize the integral relationship between performer and audience as Strong, as the unnamed star of the show, says, “Thank you all for coming tonight. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you here. There’s always the chance that you might not show up. I think most actors worry about playing to an empty house. I also worry about playing to a full house and leaving the audience empty.”
The audience is not left empty in the ninety-minute one-woman show, written by Jane Wagner specifically for her partner, Lily Tomlin. It was first seen on Broadway in 1985 at the Plymouth, earning Tomlin a Tony; it was turned into a film in 1991 and revived at the Booth in 2000. All along, Wagner has been tweaking the script; the 2022 edition features new quips about the climate crisis, cybersex, Elon Musk, and GPS, but its focus on fear, false hopes, and interconnectedness as humanity tries to find meaning in its everyday existence is still front and center.
Strong portrays eleven characters, going through small wardrobe changes — Anita Yavich’s costumes include a rainbow umbrella hat, an overcoat laden inside with post-it notes, and various other minor touches — as she moves back and forth on a ratty stage occupied by a cart of neverending acquired objects. (The set is by Christine Jones and Mary Hamrick, with lighting by Stacey Derosier, sound and music by Elisheba Ittoop, and choreography by James Alsop.)
Cecily Strong embodies eleven characters in one-woman show (photo by Kate Glicksberg for the Shed)
Our guide is Trudy, a homeless woman, now squatting in the theater — Strong wears a black Shed T-shirt under all her outfits — who formerly was a successful corporate designer and creative consultant but now wanders the streets of New York City conversing with alien creatures, helping them collect data.
“Those shock treatments seemed to give me new electrical circuitry,” Trudy explains. “I get like these time-space continuum shifts. My brain is so far beyond, it’s staggering. Suddenly it was like my central nervous system had a patio addition out back. Not only do I have a linkup to extraterrestrial channels, I also got a hookup to humanity as a whole.” These shifts, in which Strong becomes other characters, are accompanied by a flash of light and crash of sound.
Agnus Angst is a fourteen-year-old punk performance artist and “new bio-form” with a negative attitude whose parents have locked her out of the house. (“We are all micro-SPECKS on SPECK-ship Earth.”) Chrissy is a seminar hopper looking for a job and self-awareness while thinking about suicide. (“Whooo! I got fired from that telemarketing place. No, they gave me no notice at all . . . just . . . warnings.”)
Kate is a gossipy, bored woman who has uneven hair and has lost the tip of a finger in a cooking class accident. (“I am sick of being the victim of trends I reflect but don’t even understand.”) Paul is a divorced father and sperm donor who is feeling burned out. (“What’s the point of being a hedonist if you’re not having a good time?”)
Brandy and Tina are street prostitutes who get picked up by a writer who wants to talk to them for research. (“You’re the second guy this month wants to take out trade in this fashion. Last one ended up wanting my life history and a blowjob,” Brandy says. Tina adds: “I got news, what’s between her legs is her life history.”)
Lyn, Marge, and Edie are suburban friends evaluating their status, particularly as women. (Lyn: “I worry sometimes, maybe Bob has gotten too much in touch with his feminine side. Last night, I’m pretty sure he faked an orgasm.” Edie: “I look at myself . . . I don’t see any flaws.” Marge: “I’ve discovered a great medical cure for sobriety — alcoholism!”)
The homeless, endearing Trudy leads the search for signs of intelligent life with the help of unseen aliens (photo by Kate Glicksberg for the Shed)
In her New York theatrical debut, Strong, the ten-year SNL vet who also starred in the Apple TV musical parody series Schmigadoon!, eases right into the role made famous by Tomlin. Having seen the original Broadway production, I at first couldn’t stop thinking about whether two-time Emmy nominee Strong, whose August 2021 memoir, This Will All Be Over Soon, dealt with personal loss and the pandemic, was living up to Tomlin’s legend, but it wasn’t long before I was sucked into the characters, forgetting about both Strong and Tomlin. Strong makes the role her own, which is the strongest kind of praise one could give; she’s immensely likable, warm and friendly, and, very, very funny.
It was director Leigh Silverman’s idea to revive the work at the Shed as the lockdown was lifted, and she chose Strong after watching her portray Fox News host Jeanine Pirro jumping into a glass box of wine on Weekend Update last May. Silverman has helmed such Broadway plays as Grand Horizons and The Lifespan of a Fact in addition to the off-Broadway solo shows Harry Clarke and On the Exhale, and that experience keeps Signs energetic and exciting.
Whenever suicide was mentioned, I found it hard not to think about the Vessel, the twisting structure outside the Shed from which four people have jumped to their death since February 2020. Harsh reality is always right around the corner. Some of the New Agey feminist banter feels a bit dusty, but it always picks itself up in the hands of Strong, an improv specialist who just might be having even more fun than we are. What might feel like randomness at times all comes together by the end in surprising ways, emphasizing the interdependence of humanity. Wagner (Appearing Nitely, J.T.) and Tony, Grammy, and Emmy winner Tomlin (Nashville, Grace and Frankie) have given their blessing to this revival — they are serving as executive producers — and their faith has been rewarded, as has ours. As Trudy tells us, giving each of our lives meaning, “The good news is: In the future, they are still making plans for the future.”