twi-ny recommended events

A RAISIN IN THE SUN

Walter Lee Younger (Denzel Washington) and Ruth (Sophie Okonedo) are just trying to survive day to day in stellar revival of A RAISIN IN THE SUN (photo by Brigitte Lacombe)

Walter Lee Younger (Denzel Washington) and Ruth (Sophie Okonedo) are just trying to survive day to day in stellar revival of A RAISIN IN THE SUN (photo by Brigitte Lacombe)

Ethel Barrymore Theatre
243 West 47th St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through June 15, $67 – $149
www.raisinbroadway.com

Broadway revivals are often about star power, still-relevant socioeconomic or –political issues, or inventive staging of a familiar classic. But Kenny Leon’s new version of A Raisin in the Sun goes back to the very creation of this fifty-five-year-old American drama, celebrating its fascinating author, Lorraine Hansberry. As patrons enter the Ethel Barrymore Theatre, an interview with Hansberry, the first African American woman to have a work produced on Broadway, is being broadcast on the sound system. Each Playbill comes with an additional pamphlet that reprints “Sweet Lorraine,” James Baldwin’s 1969 Esquire remembrance of Hansberry — who died in 1965 at the age of thirty-four — in which he writes, “Black people ignored the theater because the theater had always ignored them. But, in Raisin, black people recognized that house and all the people in it — the mother, the son, the daughter, and the daughter-in-law — and supplied the play with an interpretative element which could not be present in the minds of white people: a kind of claustrophobic terror, created not only by their knowledge of the streets.” Leon’s production, and the extremely talented cast, honors every word of the play, which doesn’t feel old-fashioned in any way.

Walter Lee Younger (Denzel Washington) explains his questionable plans to his mother (LaTanya Richardson Jackson) in A RAISIN IN THE SUN (photo by Brigitte Lacombe)

Walter Lee Younger (Denzel Washington) explains his questionable plans to his mother (LaTanya Richardson Jackson) in A RAISIN IN THE SUN (photo by Brigitte Lacombe)

Oscar and Tony winner Denzel Washington stars as Walter Lee Younger, a dreamer trying to lift his family out of poverty in their cramped apartment on Chicago’s South Side. Every morning there’s a battle to get to the bathroom across the hall, shared by everyone on the floor. Walter’s mother, Lena (LaTanya Richardson Jackson), is expecting a $10,000 insurance check for her recently deceased husband. While Walter wants to invest it in a liquor store with his friends Bobo (Stephen McKinley Henderson) and the never-seen Willy Harris, Walter’s hardworking wife, Ruth (Sophie Okonedo), wants to put it to far more practical use. Also awaiting the money are Walter and Ruth’s son, Travis (Bryce Clyde Jenkins), who sleeps on the couch, and Walter’s sister, Beneatha (Anika Noni Rose), who lives with them as well and wants to become a doctor. As Beneatha spends time with two different men, the assimilating George Murchison (Jason Dirden) and Joseph Asagai (Sean Patrick Thomas), who introduces her to her African roots, Lena considers moving the family to all-white Clybourne Park, leading to a visit by neighborhood leader Karl Lindner (David Cromer), setting in motion a series of events that, with a delicate balance of humor and tragedy, intelligently capture the black experience in mid-twentieth-century America. (A Raisin in the Sun was a direct influence on Bruce Norris’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Clybourne Park.)

A representative from Clybourne Park (Karl Lindner) has some surprising news for the Younger family (photo by Brigitte Lacombe)

A representative from Clybourne Park (Karl Lindner) has some surprising news for the Younger family (photo by Brigitte Lacombe)

Washington (Fences, Julius Caesar), in a role created by Sidney Poitier first onstage and then in the 1961 film, is a whirlwind as Walter, practically dancing as he weaves his way through Mark Thompson’s apartment set, his gait displaying a slight jump, his leg often shaking in anticipation of making things better for him and his family. Okonedo embodies the sadness of the everyday drudgery her life encompasses, her eyes tired before their time, heavy with what could have been. Jackson is a fireball as the caring matriarch who wants to see her children and grandson succeed. Hansberry’s words flow like poetry as the Youngers’ path is continually blocked, evoking the Langston Hughes poem that gave the work its title, “A Dream Deferred”: “What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up / like a raisin in the sun? / Or fester like a sore — / And then run?” It was only ten years ago that Leon brought A Raisin in the Sun to the Royale, with a cast that included Sean Combs, Audra McDonald, Phylicia Rashad, and Sanaa Lathan, but this stellar current production makes the previous one but a distant memory, injecting fresh new life into one of Broadway’s most historically and socially important works.

MARXFEST

marxfest

Multiple locations
May 1-31, free – $35
www.marxfest.com

As legend has it, during a card game in May 1914, vaudeville monologist and mimetic comedian Art Fisher rechristened Leonard, Arthur, Julius, and Milton Marx as Chicko (Chico), Harpo, Groucho, and Gummo, respectively. (Herbert was renamed Zeppo later.) So in May 2014, Marxfest will celebrate the one hundredth anniversary of that propitious event with a series of special programs in all five boroughs, paying tribute to the New York City natives with film screenings, panel discussion, plays, parties, and a reading of an upcoming musical production of the brothers Marx’s Broadway musical debut, which was never filmed and has not been revived, until now. In addition to the below highlights, there are free film screenings every Thursday afternoon (A Night at the Opera, Monkey Business, Room Service, A Day at the Races), a Barx Brothers Dogwalk costume contest, walking tours, and more.

Thursday, May 1
The Party of the First Part, opening night party at location where Harpo spent many a night with the likes of Heywood Broun, Dorothy Parker, Alexander Woollcott, and George S. Kaufman, Algonquin Hotel Blue Bar, 59 West 44th St., free admission (cash bar), 6:00 – 10:00 pm

Friday, May 2
From Angels to Anarchists: The Evolution of the Marx Brothers, with Trav S.D. discussing Marx Brothers’ transition from the singing group the Four Nightingales to a comedy act and Sarah Moskowitz performing early routines, Coney Island USA, 1208 Surf Ave., $7, 7:30

Sunday, May 4
An Evening with Groucho, starring Frank Ferrante, Williamson Theatre, College of Staten Island, $20-$25, 3:00

Wednesday, May 7
Marxes in Manhattan, with a theremin tribute by Rob Schwimmer, a re-creation of the Leroy Trio with Richard Pearson, Zachary Catron, and Kit Russoniello, a multimedia presentation on the Marx Brothers and their hometown by author and archivist Robert S. Bader, the Players Theatre, 115 MacDougal St., $24, 8:00

Friday, May 9
The Music of the Marx Brothers, with Marissa Mulder, Rebekah Lowin, Bill Zeffiro, Tonna Miller, Gelber & Manning, and special surprise guests, hosted by Dandy Wellington, 54 Below, 254 West 54th St., $25-$35 (plus $25 food and drink minimum), 11:00

Saturday, May 10
Anarchy in Astoria: The Making of the Marx Brothers’ First Two Pictures, with the American Vaudeville Theatre’s Trav S.D. discussing the making of The Cocoanuts and Animal Crackers, Greater Astoria Historical Society, Quinn Building, 35-20 Broadway, fourth floor, $10, 1:30

Saturday, May 17
“You Bet Your Ass,” quiz show with host Murray Hill and announcer Jonny Porkpie, with burlesque stars Anita Cookie, Lady Scoutington, and Trixie Little & the Evil Hate Monkey, the Cutting Room, 44 East 32nd St., $14.99 in advance, $19.99 at the door, 10:00

Sunday, May 18
An Elephant in Your Pajamas . . . at the Zoo, the Bronx Zoo, meet at the south gate at noon in your pajamas, zoo admission of $13-$17, 12 noon

Sunday, May 25
I’ll Say She Is, full-length reading of first Marx Brothers Broadway musical, followed by panel discussion, the Players Theatre, 115 MacDougal St., $25, 5:00

Thursday, May 29
We’re All Mad Here: The Marx Brothers in Context, with Trav S.D. discussing the Marx Brothers’ vaudeville inspirations, Mid-Manhattan Library, 455 Fifth Ave., free, 6:30

ALL THE WAY

(photo by Evgenia Eliseeva)

Bryan Cranston gives a rousing performance in Broadway debut as President Lyndon Baines Johnson (photo by Evgenia Eliseeva)

Neil Simon Theater
250 West 52nd St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through June 29, $35-$155
www.allthewaybroadway.com

Robert Schenkkan’s All the Way has come to Broadway just in time to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 — as well as to make one pontificate on the recent invalidation of a key part of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. The play begins with one of the most harrowing moments in American history, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, followed by the swearing-in of Lyndon Baines Johnson (Breaking Bad superstar Bryan Cranston). The Texas politician was a far cry from the Kennedys. In his rousing Broadway debut, Cranston portrays LBJ as a gruff meat-and-potatoes guy who said whatever was on his mind, not afraid to let his pants down, even in front of the press. With his doting wife, Lady Bird (Betsy Aiden), by his side, Johnson decides to make the Civil Rights Act his central focus, much to the chagrin of his mentor, Georgia senator Richard Russell (a stalwart John McMartin). Soliciting support from mild-mannered Minnesota senator Hubert Humphrey (Robert Petkoff), with a promise to make him the vice-presidential candidate, and strong-arm labor leader Walter Reuther (Rob Campbell), Johnson masterfully works both sides of the aisle, knowing how to get things done in ways that already seem impossible today as he deals with FBI director J. Edgar Hoover (Michael McKean), such congressmen as Strom Thurmond (Christopher Gurr), Emanuel Celler (Steve Vinovich), Karl Mundt (Bill Timoney), Robert Byrd (McKean), and Howard “Judge” Smith (Richard Poe), Defense Secretary Robert McNamara (James Eckhouse), and Alabama governor George Wallace (Campbell), who is running against him for the 1964 Democratic nomination. All the while, news about the escalation in Vietnam arrives with chilling regularity.

(photo by Evgenia Eliseeva)

LBJ is at the center of the battle over the Civil Rights Act in ALL THE WAY (photo by Evgenia Eliseeva)

Pulitzer Prize winner Schenkann’s (The Kentucky Cycle) play is a fireball whenever Cranston, who fully embodies Johnson’s bold proclamations and folksy swagger, is onstage; it slows down significantly when a group of black activists, including SCLC head the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (Brandon J. Dirden), the Rev. Ralph Abernathy (J. Bernard Calloway), Stokely Carmichael (William Jackson Harper), NAACP executive director Roy Wilkins (Peter Jay Fernandez), and COFO codirector Bob Moses (Eric Lenox Abrams), argue over the all-white Mississippi delegation to the 1964 Democratic National Convention and whether to continue to back Johnson. While the main action takes place, director Bill Rauch keeps various other related parties onstage, sitting in Christopher Acebo’s congressional gallery set, quietly watching Johnson as if they’re part of the audience as well. The majority of the twenty-person cast plays multiple characters, so it’s not always obvious who’s who at any given moment, but in the world of politics, that actually makes sense. Cranston gives a virtuoso performance as Johnson, a man previously portrayed onstage in one-man shows by Laurence Luckinbill and Jack Klugman, but Cranston foregoes mere impersonation, instead embodying Johnson’s inner force and determination. Christopher Liam Moore excels as LBJ’s top aide, Walter Jenkins, who is a kind of worshipful younger version of his boss. “It’s not personal, Dick. It’s just politics,” LBJ tells Russell at one point. “It’s not personal, Dick. It’s just politics,” LBJ tells Russell at one point. In the powerful yet intimate All the Way, it’s often hard to tell the difference.

PROJECT IX — PLEIADES

Japan Society
333 East 47th St. at First Ave.
Friday, May 2, and Saturday, May 3, $30, 7:30 PM
212-715-1258
www.japansociety.org

As part of the sixtieth anniversary of Japan Society’s performing arts program, the institution is presenting the North American premiere of Project IX — Pléïades, a multimedia music/video/movement piece. The “IX” in the title does not represent the Roman numeral “9” but the letters “I” and “X,” the initials of innovative Romanian-born Greek-French composer and musical theorist Iannis Xenakis. The evening is a collaboration between Japanese percussionist Kuniko Kato, who has released such albums as Cantus and Kuniko Plays Reich; Japanese dancer and teacher Megumi Nakamura, who has performed around the world with Jiří Kylián’s Nederlands Dans Theater, her own Dance Sangra, and other companies; and Italian choreographer Luca Veggetti, who has previously created works for the New York City Ballet’s Choreographic Institute, the Spoleto Festival, the Ballet of the Rome Opera, and the Kirov Ballet at the Mariinsky and was the 2011 resident artistic director of Morphoses. Kato will play Xennakis’s 1988 Rebonds, a multiple percussion solo in two parts, while Nakamura will dance to Xenakis’s 1978 Pléïades, a work for six percussionists in four movements. (“Pléïades” refers to the seven daughters of Atlas in Greek myth as well as the star cluster in the constellation Taurus.) “Why Xenakis, and why our interest in Xenakis? Xenakis had a strong interest in Japanese culture, and in Japanese theater in particular — which I share, by the way,” Veggetti, who is married to Japanese artist Moe Yoshida and has worked with Japanese composer Toshio Hosokawa on several projects, says in the above promotional video. “In particular about noh theater, which for him represented some kind of supreme form in terms of theatrical tradition, which conveyed his ideas about theater so exactly. And so we felt that because of this connection it was natural to build a project that hereditarily comes from Japan and that we’re performing here with Japanese performers.” The program will take place May 2 & 3 at 7:30; the May 2 performance will be followed by a reception with the artists.

THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO: THE MOOR OF VENICE

OTHELLO (courtesy Carlotta Films)

A new restoration of Orson Welles’s OTHELLO is running at Film Forum through May 8 (courtesy Carlotta Films)

OTHELLO (Orson Welles, 1952)
Film Forum
209 West Houston St.
Daily through May 8
212-727-8110
www.filmforum.org
www.carlottafilms-us.com

Filmed in black-and-white over three years in multiple locations and ultimately employing five cinematographers, four editors, three Desdemonas, and two scores, it’s rather amazing that Orson Welles’s 1952 independent production of William Shakespeare’s Othello was ever completed — of course, many Welles projects were not. That the final work turned out to be a masterpiece that won the Palme d’Or at Cannes speaks yet more to Welles’s genius. A newly restored version of Othello is in the midst of a two week-run at Film Forum, in conjunction with “Celebrate Shakespeare 2014!,” a worldwide festival honoring the Bard’s 450th birthday. Welles, who directed the picture and plays the title character, streamlined the story into ninety-five minutes, getting to the heart of the most intense tale of jealousy and betrayal ever told. The film opens with shadowy shots of the dead Othello and his deceased wife, Desdemona (Suzanne Cloutier), carried aloft on biers at their dual funeral, to the sounds of an ominous piano and a mournful vocal chorus. The credits soon follow, after which Welles returns to the beginning, as the villainous ensign Iago (Micheál MacLiammóir) plots with Roderigo (Robert Coote) to convince Othello that his loyal and devoted wife is actually in love with the heroic soldier Michael Cassio (Michael Laurence).

At first Othello brushes away Iago’s concerns, but soon he is caught in Iago’s trap and starts to question the fairy-tale love he shares with his beautiful and trusting bride. As the story proceeds, characters are shown in extreme close-up, in narrow passages and doorways, amid medieval rooms with large columns and intricately designed windows, shadows looming everywhere; the stunning architecture, shot at disorienting angles, is a character unto itself. Welles did whatever it took to finish the film, including using his own funds from acting jobs and filming a scene in a bathhouse when costumes were unavailable, lending the proceedings a fragmented feel that evokes the mirrors in the finale of The Lady from Shanghai. Unfortunately, the syncing of the dialogue track is still often off and numerous cuts are too shaky, but they detract only a bit from the overall power and majesty of the film, a bold and brave take on a familiar Shakespeare tale given a dark new life by a master auteur.

OF MICE AND MEN

(photo by Richard Phibbs)

Chris O’Down and James Franco both make their Broadway debut in revival of John Steinbeck classic (photo by Richard Phibbs)

Longacre Theatre
220 West 48th St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through July 27, $37 – $147
www.ofmiceandmenonbroadway.com

Chris O’Dowd steals the show as an endearing gentle giant who doesn’t know his own strength in Anna D. Shapiro’s riveting new production of John Steinbeck’s American classic Of Mice and Men, the first Broadway revival of the 1937 play in forty years. O’Dowd stars as Lennie Small, a large man with the mind of a child who has a penchant for petting nice things. He is out on the road with his best friend, George Milton (James Franco), a stand-up guy who takes care of him and finds work for them as migrant ranch hands. They had to leave their previous job in a hurry after Lennie caused trouble involving a young woman and her pretty dress, and they are now headed for another ranch, where they’re hoping to save up enough money bucking barley bags to get a little plot of land for themselves. George regularly makes Lennie tell them about their best-laid plans: “Some day we’re gonna get the jack together and we’re gonna have a little house, and a couple of acres and a cow and some pigs and . . .” George says before being interrupted by Lennie, who chimes in, “and live off the fat of the land! And have rabbits. Go on, George! Tell about what we’re gonna have in the garden. And about the rabbits.” Among the people they meet at the ranch are Candy (Jim Norton), an older man with a mangy dog; Slim (Jim Parrack), the jerk-line skinner who takes a liking to George and Lennie; Carlson (Joel Marsh Garland), a stout fellow who can’t wait to shoot Candy’s dog; Crooks (Ron Cephas Jones), a bitter black man whose color segregates him from the rest of the men; and the Boss (Jim Ortlieb), who just wants everyone to do their jobs with as few problems as possible. But the biggest danger is the Boss’s son, Curley (Alex Morf), a small, angry man with a chip on his shoulder, both about his size as well as how some of the guys look at his very attractive and flirty wife (Leighton Meester). However, despite trying so hard, Lennie finds himself in trouble yet again, leading to a tragic finale.

(photo by Richard Phibbs)

George (James Franco) and Lennie (Chris O’Dowd) share a rare laugh in OF MICE AND MEN revival (photo by Richard Phibbs)

Thoughtfully directed by Anna D. Shapiro (August: Osage County, Domesticated) with grace and tenderness, the show focuses on the concept of single-handedness, emphasizing the loneliness experienced by all of the characters. O’Dowd, as Lennie, uses his left hand almost like a conductor’s baton to help express himself and get his words out; while he remains by George’s side, he desperately wants something to pet and take care of, be it a mouse or a dog or other preferably living thing. Candy, played by the ever-dependable Norton, has only one hand, and he can’t imagine facing life alone if he allows Carlson to kill his dog. Crooks, so used to everyone steering clear of him because he’s black, is surprised when first Lennie, then others, suddenly come into his room, which is away from where the rest of the men stay. “You got no right to come in my room. This here’s my room. Nobody got any right in here but me,” he tells Lennie, who comes in anyway. When Curley attacks Lennie, it’s Curley’s hand, the one he keeps extra soft for his wife, that Lennie grabs. Even the “couples” in the play deal with the issue. Curley and his wife are never seen together, always looking for each other. And Slim makes a special note of Lennie and George’s relationship, which he alone seems to understand. “Hardly none of the guys ever travels around together. I hardly never seen two guys travel together,” he says to George. “You know how the hands are. They come in and go on alone. Never seem to give a damn about nobody. Jest seems kinda funny. A cuckoo like him and a smart guy like you traveling together.” Indeed, it’s no coincidence that the nearest town is Soledad, which means “loneliness” in Spanish and is where the men go to seek paid female accompaniment.

(photo by Richard Phibbs)

Lennie (Chris O’Dowd) and Curley’s wife (Leighton Meester) talk about their dreams in OF MICE AND MEN (photo by Richard Phibbs)

Film and television stars O’Dowd (Bridesmaids, Girls), Franco (127 Hours, Freaks and Geeks), and Meester (Country Strong, Gossip Girl) avail themselves well in their Broadway debuts; Meester adds a deep richness to Curley’s unnamed wife, who is often portrayed as more of a floozy, while Franco is smart and solid alongside O’Dowd’s mesmerizing performance, a pair previously played by such duos as Wallace Ford and Broderick Crawford, Kevin Conway and James Earl Jones, George Segal and Nicol Williamson, Robert Blake and Randy Quaid, Burgess Meredith and Lon Chaney Jr., and Gary Sinise and John Malkovich. The rest of the cast is stellar as well, with particularly fine turns by the ever-dependable Norton (The Mystery of Edwin Drood, The Seafarer) and the Texas-born Parrack (True Blood), Todd Rosenthal’s sets range from the bank of the Salinas River, where George and Lennie take a load off, to the bunkhouse, which looks more like a prison, representing the death of the American dream in the wake of the depression. Seventy-seven years after it first arrived on Broadway, Of Mice and Men is still a powerful, and relevant, examination of loneliness, friendship, and the struggle to survive in hard times.

JAMES FRANCO: NEW FILM STILLS

James Franco

“I’m getting bored,” James Franco writes in the poem accompanying “Untitled Film Still #58,” his re-creation of the Cindy Sherman original

Pace Gallery
534 West 25th St. between Tenth & Eleventh Aves.
Through Saturday, May 3, free, 19:00 am – 6:00 pm
212-989-4258
www.thepacegallery.com

Right up front, we need to admit that we consider ourselves to be Francophiles. We have full admiration and respect for the many guises worn by James Franco. From his days as Daniel Desario on Freaks and Geeks to his work in such films as 127 Hours, Milk, and Rise of the Planet of the Apes, from novels and writings to appearances in art films by Paul McCarthy and Isaac Julien, through his current Broadway debut in Of Mice and Men. So at first, we were more than willing to give Franco, who just turned thirty-six, the benefit of the doubt with his latest gallery installation, “New Film Stills,” which continues at Pace through May 3. For the project, Franco re-created (in general, not painstaking detail) more than two dozen of Cindy Sherman’s seminal “Untitled Film Stills,” in which Sherman photographed herself as different female protagonists from 1977 to 1980, as if playing clichéd woman characters in unknown movies, commenting on gender and class identity, power, and the male gaze. Walking through the gallery, we found ourselves entertained by Franco’s homage/appropriation as he, replete with beard and mustache, lounged on a bed in lingerie, examined himself in a mirror, stood outside wearing a hat or kerchief, or walked gingerly down steps. “Cindy is an artist who used cinema as a source for her work; she ‘played’ at being an actress,” Franco has said about the series. “I am an actor who inserts himself into his work. Where Cindy used cinema as a starting place, I use art as a starting place.”

James Franco

James Franco name-checks D. H. Lawrence, Jack Nicholson, and Dennis Hopper in poem about “Untitled Film Still #42”

But upon further investigation, including perusing the catalog, the cover of which also mimics Sherman’s, we actually grew somewhat agitated and angry at the well-intentioned Franco. Part of the beauty of Sherman’s original photographs were their originality, as well as the mystery and magic that accompanied each one; they were untitled in order to let viewers enjoy and interpret them on an individual basis. In the introduction to the Franco catalog, American academic, poet, and Franco mentor Frank Bidart writes, “To my eye, there’s nothing ‘camp’ about this male figure inhabiting the scenes and tensions and atmospheres in Sherman’s photographs. Just as there is nothing camp or ironic or mocking when he doesn’t imitate them.” They might not be camp, but they lack the magic and mystery — and, of course, originality — of their primogenitors, eventually feeling lazy before unraveling when you read Franco’s accompanying poetry, which is available only in the catalog and comes off more like a school project. Franco has written a poem — four quatrains, some with an additional line — for each of Sherman’s sixty-nine stills. In “Untitled Film Still #27b,” in which Sherman/Franco holds a cocktail glass, a mascara’d tear running down the left side of his/her face, Franco writes, “Living inside one’s skull / Unable to communicate with the outside. / Are we all artists or is a bunch just / Crazy and another bunch just boring? / Tennessee Williams’s sister Rose / Went nuts and was lobotomized / And Tenn put such material into his work. / Did he disrespect her or help us all / By giving us The Glass Menagerie?” In the end, Franco is disrespecting both Sherman, whom he calls “a hero in my pantheon,” and the viewer by deciding what each photograph might or might not mean while name-dropping famous movies, books, and locations. When philosopher and art critic Arthur C. Danto asked Sherman, “Why did you stop doing the untitled film stills?” she responded, “I ran out of clichés.” In the end, “clichés” are exactly where Franco’s misappropriation begins.