this week in theater

HOLLYWOOD BABBLE-ON: CHANNELING AVA GARDNER, GENE WILDER, AND GILDA RADNER OFF-BROADWAY

Elizabeth McGovern wrote and stars in off-Broadway premiere of Ava: The Secret Conversations (photo by Jeff Lorch)

AVA: THE SECRET CONVERSATIONS
New York City Center Stage I
131 West 55th St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through September 14, $63-$219
avagardnerplay.com
nycitycenter.org

There are currently two off-Broadway premieres that feature fine performances by actors portraying film and television royalty, but each play struggles to get past frame stories that detract from the overall production.

Oscar-nominated actress Elizabeth McGovern wrote and stars in Ava: The Secret Conversations, a touring show running through September 14 at New York City Center Stage I. It’s based on the 2013 biography Ava: The Secret Conversations by British journalist Peter Evans and Oscar-nominated Hollywood legend Ava Gardner, compiled from interview sessions between the two in Gardner’s lavish London apartment initiated in 1988. Gardner had suffered a stroke in 1986 and had not appeared on camera since.

The play opens with Gardner (McGovern) in silhouette, calling Evans (Aaron Costa Gani) on the phone, talking about possibly ending her life. The narrative then cuts back to the first time they spoke; Gardner had chosen Evans to ghostwrite her memoir for Dick Snyder at Simon and Schuster. Evans, who wants to move away from celebrity gossip and instead work on his novel, thought it was a gag and insults her, but he soon realizes from his agent, Ed Victor (John Tufts), that the project is the real deal. While Evans gets excited about the prospect of exploring the Golden Age of Hollywood, Gardner just wants to barrel through it without making it a kiss-and-tell.

“I gotta write a book, or sell the jewels. I’m kinda sentimental about the jewels,” she admits to him.

He wants to start the memoir with her childhood on a farm in North Carolina, but she wants to talk about her recent stroke. Meanwhile, Victor, in voice-over, advises him, “Dick Snyder says he wants you to ask her about it. Frank’s penis. . . . I can get close to 800K if she talks Sinatra.”

Evans and Gardner quickly get down to business; she reveals the details of meeting and marrying Mickey Rooney, Artie Shaw, and Sinatra and enjoying a lot of sex. They touch on such films as The Killers, Mogambo, The Sun Also Rises, and The Barefoot Contessa and such key figures as Marlon Brando, John Ford, Howard Hughes, and Omar Sharif. Alex Basco Koch’s projections range from archival news footage to clips from Gardner’s films, immersing the audience in her glamorous world.

As she recounts her past relationships, Gani morphs into Rooney, Shaw, and Sinatra, re-creating scenes from Gardner’s past, focusing on her three husbands; none of whom were saints. Evans, who was married with two kids, spends a lot of time with Gardner, who does not hide her flirtatious nature from him. Although she doesn’t have full use of her left arm because of the stroke, she smokes and drinks and curls up seductively on the couch, which initially bothers Evans — until it doesn’t.

Just as Gardner is really opening up, outside forces suddenly stop the interviews and put the kibosh on the book. Gardner went on to publish the 1990 memoir Ava: My Story without Evans’s input; it took more than twenty years for Evans to acquire the rights to the interviews and release them in the 2012 book Ava: The Secret Conversations, which is credited to him and Gardner.

“When you get blown up so big, Peter, you end up paper thin,” she tells him late in the play, summarizing her life as well as her attempts to tell her story her way.

British journalist Peter Evans’s (Aaron Costa Gani) life is turned inside out when he is hired to ghostwrite Ava Gardner’s memoir (photo by Jeff Lorch)

McGovern (Time and the Conways, Downton Abbey) is lovely as Gardner; her accent may waver in and out, but her facial gestures, hair (by Matthew Armentrout), and costumes (by Toni-Leslie James) help her transform into the glamorous silver screen star in a mesmerizing performance. Ganis (Bernhardt/Hamlet, Homos or Everyone in America) does not fare as well, primarily because his characters — Evans, Rooney, Shaw, Sinatra — basically steal time away from Gardner, who merits all the attention.

McGovern the writer and Tony-nominated director Moritz von Stuelpnagel (Hand to God, The Thanksgiving Play) are exploring the creative process, but we learn only so much about Evans and instead want to know everything about Gardner. The pace comes to a screeching halt whenever Peter is not speaking with Ava and is instead talking to Ed or someone else; it’s a shame it couldn’t have been a one-woman show, but that would have been a different play.

In addition, there are bothersome plot holes; for example, Evans has a tiny notebook and only occasionally jots down notes, so it seems impossible for him to have gotten so many direct quotes; in actuality, he used a tape recorder, which would have been useful to point out so we don’t wonder about it.

Ava: The Secret Conversations might not be The Killers, Mogambo, or The Night of the Iguana, but it’s also not Ghosts on the Loose, The Sentinel, or The Naked Maja, falling somewhere in the middle of Gardner’s diverse oeuvre.

The whirlwind romance between Gilda Radner (Jordan Kai Burnett) and Gene Wilder (Jonathan Randell Silver) comes to life in off-Broadway premiere (photo by Carol Rosegg)

GENE & GILDA
59E59 Theaters
59 East 59th St. between Park & Madison Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through September 7, $66-$86
212-279-4200
www.59e59.org

Cary Gitter’s Gene & Gilda, a Penguin Rep production running through September 7 at 59E59, details the whirlwind romance between Saturday Night Live superstar Gilda Radner (Jordan Kai Burnett) and comedy legend Gene Wilder (Jonathan Randell Silver). The show opens as Wilder is sitting down for his first interview since Radner’s tragic death. He’s hesitant to discuss his personal life with talk show host Dick Cavett, who appears here only in voice-over.

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t discuss that,” Wilder says, but Cavett pushes him. “I’d rather keep that off limits,” Wilder answers, but is then interrupted by the sudden apparition of Radner, who declares, “Off limits? You wanna keep me off limits? . . . We can tell our story together. The good, the bad, and the ugly. The whole megillah.” The rest of the eighty-five-minute show flashes between the interview and reenacted scenes from Radner and Wilder’s relationship.

The two met on August 13, 1981, on the set of Hanky Panky, a 1982 comic thriller directed by Sidney Poitier that did not fare very well. At the time, Radner, who was born in 1946 in Detroit, was married to future SNL bandleader G. E. Smith, who had worked on her 1979 one-woman Broadway show, Gilda Radner — Live from New York. Wilder, who was born in 1933 in Milwaukee, had been divorced twice and was coming off the huge success of Stir Crazy, the second of his four collaborations with Richard Pryor. Although Radner knew in advance that she was going to fall in love with Wilder, he took a bit of convincing before being swept away by the gale force that was Gilda Radner. “But — but what about my vertigo, and the comfort handkerchief, and the praying?” he says to her, referring to some of his neuroses. She replies, “I love all of it. We complement each other’s craziness. A match made in meshugas.”

They both suffer creative crises but find solace in each other and their home away from home, the south of France, where they wed in 1984. At one point, Wilder complains that he is only being offered parts in “Crap! Trash! Garbage!,” telling Radner, “I’m seeing clearly for the first time in years! I wanted to be a thespian. When I was a kid, I saw Death of a Salesman on Broadway, and it changed my life. That was art. I studied at the Actors Studio. I wanted to impact people. And now I’m nothing but a, a cheap Hollywood commodity, making stupid comedies like Hanky Panky! No offense.”

Radner reassures him that making people laugh is his gift. “What do you think people would rather do on a Saturday night — watch me give a speech about the hardships of life, or crack up over Roseanne
Roseannadanna? What we do is a — it’s a public service.”

But their idyllic life is turned upside down when Radner falls ill, experiencing mysterious symptoms that doctors cannot diagnose — until it’s too late.

Gene Wilder (Jonathan Randell Silver) looks back at his life with Gilda Radner (Jordan Kai Burnett) in Gene & Gilda (photo by Carol Rosegg)

Christian Fleming’s set features all-white furniture, from a two-section couch and a desk with a typewriter to luggage and a big box (perhaps to make the room seem ghostly or to keep the spotlight more on the couple — except at least twice, the night I went, when the spotlight loses Wilder). Wilder occasionally sits in a black director chair when being interviewed by Cavett; those segments slow down the pace dramatically.

The backdrop is a wall of television monitors where Brian Pacelli’s projections range from hearts and flowers to a shot of the south of France and live video of Wilder answering Cavett’s questions; at the center is a door marked “On the Air,” a constant reminder that we’re watching a TV show. Gregory Gale’s costumes put Wilder in relatively conservative suits and Radner in frumpy yet wacky outfits, while Bobbie Zlotnik’s hair and wigs hit their mark. Sound designer Max Silverman’s treacly score evokes telephone hold music.

In the script, Gitter (The Steel Man, The Sabbath Girl) explains that Gene & Gilda “is a work of fiction, based freely on fact.” Among his sources were Wilder’s 2005 memoir, Kiss Me Like a Stranger, Radner’s posthumous 1989 autobiography, It’s Always Something, and Lisa Dapolito’s 2018 documentary, Love, Gilda, as well as archival footage; although Wilder did sit down with Cavett for an interview in 1991, they did not delve into detail about Radner, instead talking about how ovarian cancer could and should be diagnosed earlier. Director Joe Brancato (The Devil’s Music, The Sabbath Girl) can’t quite find the balance between fact and fiction, fantasy and reality. There is too much telling, describing what happened, and not enough showing.

Burnett (Found, Romy & Michele the Musical), who previously portrayed Radner in a December 2023 workshop reading of Not Ready for Prime Time, a play about SNL’s first five years that is scheduled to debut in New York City in October, is adorable as the determined star, who is not afraid to say what she wants and go after it, although a brief skit in which she channels Roseanne Roseannadanna, Emily Litella, Baba Wawa, Judy Miller, and Candy Slice is a tough challenge.

Silver (Please Continue, Shear Madness!), who portrayed Richard Dreyfuss in regional productions of The Shark Is Broken for the fiftieth anniversary of Jaws, captures the essence of the mild-mannered, tentative Wilder. A scene in which they re-create one of the funniest bits from The Producers — when Max Bialystock (Zero Mostel) attempts to calm down a hysterical Leo Bloom (Wilder) — is another challenge, but there are several lovely moments between them, especially when they dance together.

Gene & Gilda is reminiscent of an episode of Saturday Night Live, with some good sketches, some okay ones, and some, well, not so memorable. It might not be Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, Young Frankenstein, or Silver Streak, but it’s also not Hanky Panky, Haunted Honeymoon, or Rhinoceros. It’s more like The Frisco Kid, The Woman in Red, and Quackser Fortune Has a Cousin in the Bronx. And no need to worry; you won’t need your comfort hankie.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

THE SITE WHERE IT HAPPENED: HAMILTON SING-A-LONG AT THE OLD STONE HOUSE

Fans can sing along to the Hamilton movie at the place where the Battle of Brooklyn happened

HAMILTON SING-A-LONG
Old Stone House & Washington Park
336 Third St., Brooklyn
Thursday, August 14, free with RSVP, 7:30
theoldstonehouse.org

Every summer, the Old Stone House commemorates the August 27, 1776, Battle of Brooklyn, the first military engagement following the signing of the Declaration of Independence on August 2 at the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia. This year the historic site will be hosting “Revolutionary Brooklyn,” including walking tours, a short theatrical farce, a remembrance ceremony, a Constitution handwriting session, and a screening of the 2020 film Hamilton, a live stage recording of the smash 2015 Broadway musical that won eleven Tony Awards and is still running at the Richard Rodgers Theatre.

Directed by Thomas Kail and written by Lin-Manuel Miranda, the film features Miranda as Alexander Hamilton, Leslie Odom Jr. as Aaron Burr, Phillipa Soo as Eliza Hamilton, Renée Elise Goldsberry as Angelica Schuyler, Christopher Jackson as George Washington, Daveed Diggs as Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson, Anthony Ramos as John Laurens and Philip Hamilton, Okieriete Onaodowan as Hercules Mulligan and James Madison, and Jonathan Groff as King George III. On August 14 at 7:30, fans can come to Washington Park and sing along to such favorite numbers as “My Shot,” “Non-Stop,” and “The Room Where It Happens.” Attendees can bring their own lawn chair or blanket and party on the exact place where the Battle of Brooklyn happened 249 years ago; admission is free with advance RSVP.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

HEAVY METAL THUNDER: LIGHTNING DOESN’T STRIKE IN VIETNAM WAR JUKEBOX MUSICAL

A game cast battles through a perplexing book in Rolling Thunder at New World Stages (photo by Evan Zimmerman for MurphyMade)

ROLLING THUNDER VNM: A ROCK JOURNEY
New World Stages
340 West Fiftieth St. between Ninth & Tenth Aves.
Wednesday – Monday through September 7, $48-$140
rollingthunderus.com
newworldstages.com

In 2008, the jukebox musical Rock of Ages opened at New World Stages on West Fiftieth St., a hugely entertaining fictional story based on classic hits of the 1980s by Journey, Night Ranger, Twisted Sister, Foreigner, Pat Benatar, and others. The production moved to Broadway, was adapted into a 2012 film, and continues to be produced around the world.

This summer, in the same theater, the Australian Rolling Thunder VNM: A Rock Journey is making its US premiere, a by-the-numbers, cliché-ridden story set during the Vietnam War, featuring classic hits of the 1960s and 1970s by Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones, Curtis Mayfield, the Animals, and others. It’s highly unlikely that it will move to Broadway or be made into a movie.

The two-hour, two-act musical — which has nothing to do with the 1977 film about a soldier returning home from the Vietnam War, the annual motorcycle rally for POWs/MIAs, or Dylan’s 1975–76 Rolling Thunder Revue tour — follows four men who are sent overseas to fight the North Vietnamese. Johnny (Drew Becker) is a Nebraska farm boy who has made his father proud by enlisting, although his mother is unhappy about his decision. “I’ve been thinking about my one big chance for adventure, to see a bit of the world while I could,” he tells the audience. Johnny writes regularly to his high school sweetheart, Linda (Cassadee Pope), and his mother; Linda writes back, bursting with love and affection, but Johnny hears nothing from his mother. Describing his dreams as “Technicolor nightmares,” Johnny admits to Linda, “Your letters keep me sane, amidst the mortar and machine gun fire, when praying you won’t get killed.”

Johnny is in the same unit as his friend Thomas (Justin Matthew Sargent), who convinced him to sign up. After seeing a marine in uniform, Tommy was quick to enlist. “I thought, ‘That’s how I want to look. I’m going to be a marine!’” he says. “I pray I can be a leader among men.” Tommy, who was born into a military family, writes letters to his beloved, Lauren (Courtnee Carter), who, upon going to college, becomes interested in the antiwar movement and one of its school leaders, Jimi (Deon’te Goodman). “The campus in Lincoln is like stepping into a whole new world,” she writes to Tommy.

Andy Johnson (Daniel Yearwood) has been drafted but is clearly not cut out for battle. “I felt sick in the stomach. Go to war or go to prison. What choice did I have?” he opines. Andy gets advice from his buddy from home, Mike (Goodman), who has already been deployed. “Don’t worry, I’m keeping my eye on Andy,” Mike assures Mrs. Johnson.

Meanwhile, Nurse Kelly (Carter), whose two brothers are in Vietnam, keeps the audience informed about the increasing tragedy. “I’ve lost count of the young soldiers in body bags. In this job there’s no time for tears,” she explains.

The characters’ experiences play out in melodramatic, predictable fashion as the war goes bad, protests spread across America, and relationships get complicated.

Four soldiers try to survive the Vietnam War in jukebox musical (photo by Evan Zimmerman)

Wilson Chin’s bold set consists of multiple television sets that initially display lighthearted sitcoms (I Love Lucy, My Three Sons), then shift to archival news footage. Conductor and keyboardist Sonny Paladino, guitarists Aurelian Budynek and Sherrod Barnes, bassist Yuko Tadano, and drummer Grant Braddock perform on platforms in front of screens on which Caite Hevner projects news clips, shots of Saigon streets and Vietnamese jungles, whirring helicopters, and groovy color fantasies. (The musicians sometimes appear to morph into the background scenes, which can be disarming.) The standard costumes are by Andrea Lauer — three actors play multiple roles, and it’s not always immediately clear who they are — with flashy lighting by Jake DeGroot and propulsive sound by Mike Tracey.

Director Kenneth Ferrone is limited by Bryce Hallett’s confusing book, which has little sense of time or place, and the musical numbers often feel like way too much of a stretch. For example, the June 1968 assassination of Bobby Kennedy is followed by Walter Cronkite’s February 1968 entreaty for the US to end the war, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s April 1967 “silence is betrayal” speech, and Richard Nixon’s November 1969 “silent majority” declaration.

Several songs fit in well with the narrative — Edwin Starr’s “War,” the Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter,” which was written at least in part about the Vietnam War, Steppenwolf’s “Born to Be Wild” and “Magic Carpet Ride,” which captured the zeitgeist of the era — but too many are forced and dull the proceedings, including Roberta Flack’s “Killing Me Softly with His Song,” Kris Kristofferson’s “Help Me Make it Through the Night,” and, most egregiously, Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bridge over Troubled Water.”

The songs are not in chronological order, adding to the befuddlement, and the script credits one particular version of each song without mentioning the composer or original performer. Thus, “The Letter” is linked to Joe Cocker, not the Box Tops or Wayne Carson, who penned the tune; Jimi Hendrix is listed with “All Along the Watchtower,” not the composer, Dylan; and Santana is credited with “Black Magic Woman,” not the originators, Peter Green and Fleetwood Mac. Even though the soldiers would be more familiar with those versions, credit should be given where due. Alternately, P. F. Sloan is credited with “Eve of Destruction,” which he wrote and recorded, but the song is more closely associated with Barry McGuire, who scored a hit with it.

The ensemble cast is excellent, despite being hamstrung by the material, and the band kicks out the jams, playing Chong Lim and Sonny Paladino’s mostly faithful arrangements and orchestrations. The highlight is Goodman’s spectacular rendition of “Eve of Destruction,” in which he hauntingly sings, “My blood’s so mad feels like coagulatin’ / I’m sittin’ here just contemplatin’ / You can’t twist the truth, it knows no regulation / And a handful of senators don’t pass legislation / Marches alone can’t bring integration / When human respect is disintegratin’ / This whole crazy world is just too frustratin’ / And you tell me / Over and over and over again, my friend / Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.” [ed. note: I used the actual lyrics as written and sung by Sloan; the script has certain words incorrect that appear to be transcription mistakes, not specifically intended changes.]

Rolling Thunder concludes with a fun encore sing-along, but most of what came before it is not a rock show for the ages.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

HEROES AND VILLAINS: WELL, I’LL LET YOU GO KEEPS YOU GUESSING

Well, I’ll Let You Go takes place in a reconfigured Space at Irondale (photo by Emilio Madrid)

WELL, I’LL LET YOU GO
The Space at Irondale
85 South Oxford St. between Fulton St. & Lafayette Ave., Brooklyn
Monday to Saturday through September 12, $64 to $141
www.letyougonyc.com

Director Jack Serio turns the vast 6,000-square-foot Space at Irondale, which has 28-foot-high ceilings and can accommodate up to 250 people, into an intimate theatrical venue in his latest sublimely staged drama, Well, I’ll Let You Go, actor Bubba Weiler’s moving playwriting debut about grief and community.

Frank J. Oliva creates a narrow, horizontal set in the large former church nave. An unpainted wooden floor is flanked by the audience of ninety-nine, seated in two rows of folding chairs (the second on risers) on the two long sides. Curtains at either end delineate what we’re told is the family room, which has plain and imaginary furniture that an Our Town–like narrator (Michael Chernus) explains actually consists of a glass-topped circular table, a piano, a television, a fireplace, a big recliner, and an old sectional couch.

The narrator starts things off with a Thornton Wilder–esque introductory monologue.

“The house is in a medium-sized town in the Midwest. Thirty thousand people. One of many towns — nearly identical — that popped up in the early 1800s along the banks of a strong and wide river. Once home to the most fertile farmland in the country, it was slowly and steadily paved
over to become an unremarkable but nice American suburb. Two high schools, a community college. Strip malls, chain restaurants, gravel bike path, riverboat casino. You know the kind of place. Maybe you’re from one. A lot of us are,” he says with great casualness. “The town’s economy — for a long time — was propped up by a factory that manufactured farming equipment and was hit hard when those jobs moved abroad sometime in the early 2000s. Now everyone works at the newly opened Amazon Fulfillment Center. It’s a get-by kind of town and most people do.”

The 1934 farmhouse was purchased in the 1990s by Maggie (Quincy Tyler Bernstine), a teacher, and her husband, Marv, a lawyer who has just died in a tragic situation at a local college. He quickly goes from hero to possible villain as Maggie learns more about what he did in his free time, through a series of one-on-one conversations she has with others who believe they are comforting her.

Michael Chernus serves as a welcoming narrator in Bubba Weiler’s debut play (photo by Emilio Madrid)

Wally (Will Dagger) is a whiny ne’er-do-well with a strange world view who Marv, his cousin, took in when he was down on his luck. “Where would I go anyhow?” he asks at the beginning, having given notice at his Amazon job. When he tells Maggie he is going to sell the car to raise some much-needed cash, she has to remind him that he can’t because it’s actually their car; they just let him use it.

Joanie (Constance Shulman) is a funeral director who needs to plan Marv’s service, presenting Maggie with balloons and samples of carpeting, potpourri, and a photo easel. When Maggie points out that she might not want to have a public funeral, Joanie is flabbergasted. “You can’t just dump the body in the backyard!” she barks. “He’s a figure — now — your husband — a hero. He’s not just, you know, a man — he’s not just yours anymore. He’s yours, of course, but he’s ours.”

Julie (Amelia Workman), Maggie’s sister-in-law — she’s married to Marv’s younger brother, Jeff — shows up with flowers and apologies. The two were best friends growing up but some distance has clearly developed, as Julie discusses Marv’s sacrifice and hints at scandalous gossip surrounding his death.

Jeff (Danny McCarthy), a former navy man, shuffles in next, assuring Maggie that Marv had no secret life and advising that she needs to decide how to proceed. “It’s just there’s a timing to these things,” he says. “The longer we wait the crazier people are gonna get.”

The mysterious Angela (Emily Davis), who has been calling Maggie constantly and not leaving messages, shows up unexpectedly, with yet more shocking news for her. “I don’t know what I’d do,” Angela tells her, if she were in the same situation. That statement is at the heart of Maggie’s dilemma as she gets ready to bury Marv and face life alone.

And then Ashley (Cricket Brown), a waitress at the local club Marv frequented, comes by, wondering what it all means. “Everything we do when a person dies is so weird,” she ponders. “It’s like people have been dying for thousands of years — How have we not figured out how to not be so weird about it always.”

Maggie (Quincy Tyler Bernstine) faces an uncertain future after the tragic death of her husband (photo by Emilio Madrid)

Obie winner Chernus (In the Wake, The Aliens) is warm and inviting as our host, sharing information in a friendly, caring way and watching the action with us, occasionally sitting down in one of two empty chairs in the audience; I could have listened to him all night. Tony nominee Bernstine (Doubt: A Parable, The Amateurs) weaves a complex web as Maggie, who is unpredictable as she contemplates her past, present, and future, searching for her path to grief as others question why she isn’t following societal protocol. In a loose-fitting gray hoodie and baggy pants, Bernstine is onstage the whole hundred minutes, along with Chernus; you can’t take your eyes off either of them. (The costumes are by Avery Reed, with lighting by Stacey Derosier, sound by Brandon Bulls, and original music by Avi Amon).

Serio knows how to put a cast together, and he has another superb ensemble here, even if they are never onstage together, save for a breathtaking surprise as the conclusion approaches. Workman (The Antiquities, Fefu and Her Friends), Dagger (The Antelope Party, Uncle Vanya), Davis (Is This a Room, Singlet), McCarthy (The Minutes, The Antipodes), Shulman (Shhhh, The Best We Could), and Brown (Lobster, This House Is Not a Home) all do their part, eliciting different emotions in every scene.

Drama Desk nominee Weiler, who has also written The Saviors and This Room Is for Everybody and appeared in Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and Swing State, shows a keen ear for dialogue and relationships, keeping the audience guessing as the plot intensifies. Drama Desk and Obie winner Serio (Grangeville, Danger and Opportunity, Uncle Vanya, The Animal Kingdom) expertly builds the pace as revelations emerge, balanced by Chernus’s calm demeanor and Bernstine’s poignant depiction of Maggie’s unease and disbelief. Grief has been a popular theater topic since the pandemic, but Serio and Weiler offer a unique perspective. [ed. note: Marin Ireland replaces Bernstine for the last two weeks of the run, due to a previous commitment.]

At the preview I saw, there was an issue with the sound; we found it difficult to understand what the actors were saying when their backs were to us and they were farther away — we could hear them speaking but not make out the words. Hopefully that has been dealt with. Otherwise, Well, I’ll Let You Go is a sparkling triumph.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

FACING ONE’S FEARS: LORD NIL AND THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS

Italian escapologist Lord Nil faces seven of his fears at Stage 42

LORD NIL: SEVEN DEADLY SINS
Stage 42
422 West 42nd St. at Ninth Ave.
Thursday – Tuesday through August 31, $48-$154
www.lordnil.com
shubert.nyc

In the 1966–68 Batman television series, the first of each two-part episode ended with a cliffhanger in which the Caped Crusader and the Boy Wonder were ensnared in a bizarre deathtrap devised by such ruthless cartoon villains as the Joker, the Riddler, Mr. Freeze, the Penguin, and King Tut; Batman and Robin would survive each time with ingenuity and Batman’s utility belt.

Lord Nil: 7 Deadly Sins is set up much like Batman, as a villain, Vice (Steph Payne), challenges illusionist and escapologist Lord Nil to conquer seven death-defying scenarios to preserve his life. However, unlike Batman, Lord Nil’s show appears to be neither camp nor parody but instead more resembles a midbudget magic show in a late-night Atlantic City casino lounge, filtered through a heavy metal video. Which doesn’t necessarily mean it does not have its entertaining moments.

Lord Nil kicks off things by explaining in a filmed voiceover that following a water-tank trick twelve years ago that went awry, landing him in a hospital and suffering from PTSD, “That was the day I became Lord Nil. The first of the forgotten. The Lord of nothing. Just a man who turned pain into strength. Why? To chase an insane dream. I face fear, night after night, because if I can face it, maybe you will too.”

Born in Italy as Simone — his full real name is unknown, and he has done a thorough job of keeping his previous life a secret — Lord Nil made the quarterfinals of the thirteenth season of America’s Got Talent and is now displaying his skills at Stage 42 through August 31. For seventy-five minutes, he battles the four elements — earth, water, fire, and air — via execution machines involving an ax, a circular saw, sizzling bacon, an enclosed maze filled with smoke, a crossbow, and a descending spiked ceiling. Each stunt is linked to one of the seven deadly sins — pride, envy, gluttony, greed, lust, sloth, and wrath — but don’t try too hard to figure out the connection, because most of them are a bit of a stretch.

“Do I scare you? Don’t you recognize me?” Vice purrs at the crowd. “I’m the villain from all your childhood fairy tales, the monster from your nightmares: Call me whatever you wish. Tonight, I am the mirror that reflects all of Lord Nil’s fears back at him.” In between the daring feats, the Lost Souls, consisting of Reba Bartram, Michele Castelli, Christian Hariga, Alina Radu, Derrion Swan, Khy-Felipe Pasamonte Vitug, Kortney Warren, Erika Zilli, Kris Ivy Haynes, and Chance Hoover, slink and slither across the stage, dancing to loud music featuring the Lord of Evil (composer Erik Ventrice) shredding away on electric guitar.

Most of the magic is mediocre, the contraptions can be confusing, and Lord Nil’s celebrations are right out of professional wrestling. There’s not a whole lot of suspense, as evidenced by the less-than-enthusiastic applause after each deed and no unanimous standing ovation at the curtain call. The audience is encouraged to take photos and video; one audience member is chosen to participate in the final caper, which adds a bit of fun to an otherwise silly trick that even Batman might sniff at.

Lord Nil battles the wrath of fire in finale as Vice (Steph Payne) and the Lost Souls watch closely (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Directed by Alberto Oliva, the dark, splashy production is bumpy and uneven, enlivened with sexy choreography by Stefano Alessandrino, goth costumes by Guiseppe Magistro, flashy lighting by Tudor Micu for the Light Guy and Jamie Roderick, piercing sound by Drew Levy and Kevin Sweetser, and faux-demonic animation and projections by Dan Mitrea for Digital Maverick. Lord Nil himself is a somewhat opaque figure, and there is little chemistry between him and Payne.

You might not call out, “Holy Houdini!” as Robin did at the beginning of the second season of Batman, in the “Shoot a Crooked Arrow” episode, but Lord Nil’s production would not feel out of place on the great vaudeville stages of yore that hosted Houdini and pleased the crowds who could suspend disbelief — and perhaps their better judgment — to enjoy some thrills and chills on a hot summer night.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

HARLEM PRESENTS: OPERA EBONY IN MARCUS GARVEY PARK

Who: Opera Ebony
What: The Harlem Opera Festival
Where: Richard Rodgers Amphitheater, Marcus Garvey Park, Fifth Ave. at 124th St.
When: Saturday, July 26, free (advance RSVP recommended), 7:00
Why: Now in its fifty-first season, the nonprofit Opera Ebony is the longest continually operated Black opera company in the world. Founded in 1973 by bass baritone Benjamin Matthews with mezzo-soprano Sis. Elise Sisson (SBS), music director Wayne Sanders, and conductor Margaret Harris, the troupe has staged works around the globe, from Carmen, Aida, and La Traviata to Porgy & Bess, Faust, and Cosi Fan Tutte in addition to such original pieces as Frederick Douglass, Sojourner Truth, The Meetin’, and O’Freedom.

As part of Harlem Presents, Opera Ebony is holding a pair of concerts prior to the Classical Theatre of Harlem’s production of Will Power and Carl Cofield’s Memnon at the Richard Rodgers Amphitheater in Marcus Garvey Park. The forty-five-minute concerts start at 7:00, the play at 8:30; arriving early to see the music has the added benefit of garnering you an excellent seat for Memnon, as the amphitheater fills up pretty quickly.

On July 19, baritone Shavon Lloyd sang “Silvio’s Aria” from Pagliacci, the spiritual “Ride on King Jesus,” H. Leslie Adams’s “Prayer,” and “Make Them Hear You” from Ragtime, while mezzo soprano Daveda Browne performed “Seguidilla” from Carmen, “Mon Coeur” from Samson and Delilah, “When I Am Laid” from Dido and Æneas, and the spiritual “Wade in the Water.” They were both accompanied by pianist Kyle P. Walker; the program for July 26 will feature soprano Linnesha Crump and tenor David Morgans performing pieces by Wagner, Bizet, Puccini, Cilea, and Gershwin and duetting on William Still’s “Calm as the Bayou Waters.” Be sure to check out the pop-up market with community outreach booths, fashion and beauty boutiques, and food and drink from Creole Soul, Lizzy’s Treats, Kiki’s Cookies, Greensicle, Campbell & Carr, and Bee Favored. (The preshow music and market will be different on July 25 and July 27.) The concert and play are free; advance RSVP is recommended.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

LEGACY, MEMORY, AND IMPERMANENCE: CELEBRATING MEREDITH MONK AT IFC

Meredith Monk looks at her past, present, and future in Billy Shebar’s celebratory and deeply affecting documentary

MONK IN PIECES: A CONCEPT ALBUM (Billy Shebar, 2025)
IFC Center
323 Sixth Ave. at West Third St.
July 24–31
www.ifccenter.com
monkinpieces.com

Near the beginning of Billy Shebar’s revelatory documentary, Monk in Pieces, composer Philip Glass explains that Meredith Monk “was a self-contained theater company. She, amongst all of us, I think, was the uniquely gifted one — is the uniquely gifted one.” It’s an important correction because Monk, at eighty-three, is still hard at work, creating live performances and films that defy categorization.

While several of her earliest projects were met with derision in critical circles, today she is revered for her remarkable output, although it is still impossible to put her into any kind of box. At one point in the documentary, a chorus of Monk scholars sings her praises; one says, “She’s achieved so much, has received so many accolades, and yet she’s this unknown,” a second notes, “She kind of falls through the cracks of music history,” and a third admits, “We don’t know how to talk about her.”

Written, directed, and produced by Shebar — whose wife, coproducer Katie Geissinger, has been performing with Monk since 1990 — and David Roberts, Monk in Pieces does a wonderful job of righting those wrongs, celebrating her artistic legacy while she shares private elements of her personal and professional life. Born and raised in Manhattan, Monk details her vision problem, known as strabismus, in which she is unable to see out of both eyes simultaneously in three dimensions, which led her to concentrate on vocals and the movement of her physical self. She studied Dalcroze Eurhythmics: “All musical ideas come from the body; I think that’s where I’m coming from,” she says. All these decades later, her distinctive choreography and wordless tunes are still like nothing anyone else does.

Meredith Monk shares a special moment with her beloved turtle, Neutron

Unfolding at a Monk-like unhurried pace, the ninety-five-minute documentary is divided into thematic chapters based on her songs, including “Dolmen Music,” “Double Fiesta,” “Memory Song,” “Turtle Dreams,” and “Teeth Song,” while exploring such presentations as Juice (1969), the first theatrical event to be held at the Guggenheim; Education of the Girlchild (1973), in which a woman ages in reverse; Quarry (1976), a three-part opera about an American child sick in bed during WWII; Impermanence (2006), inspired by the sudden death of her partner, Mieke von Hook; and her masterwork, Atlas (1991), in which the Houston Grand Opera worries about her numerous requests and production costs, whether the piece will be ready in time, and if it even can be considered opera. There are also clips from Ellis Island, Book of Days, Facing North, and Indra’s Net, her latest show, which was staged at Park Ave. Armory last fall. In addition, Monk reads from her journals in scenes with playful animation by Paul Barritt.

Monk opened up her archives for the filmmakers, so Shebar, Roberts, and editor Sabine Krayenbühl incorporate marvelous photos and video from throughout Monk’s career, along with old and new interviews. “It was her voice that was so extraordinary, not only the different kind of sounds she could make, but the imagination she was using in producing the sound . . . totally individual,” Merce Cunningham says. WNYC New Sounds host John Schaefer gushes, “I don’t know when words like multimedia and interdisciplinary began to become in vogue, but Meredith was all of those things.” Her longtime friend and collaborator Ping Chong offers, “She had to fight to be acknowledged in the performing arts world because critics were saying that what she was doing was nonsensical, was crazy, was not serious; in a way, it’s a fight to survive. Pain is where art comes from. . . . Art has to come out of need. And now she’s an old master.”

And Björk, who recorded Monk’s “Gotham Lullaby,” touts, “Meredith’s melody making is like a timeless door that’s opened, like a gateway to the ancient is found. It definitely affected my DNA. . . . Her loft that she has lived in for half a century is an oasis in a toxic environment.” Among the other collaborators who chime in are longtime company member Lanny Harrison; composer Julia Wolfe; and David Byrne, for whom she created the opening scene of his 1986 film, True Stories, and who says he learned from Monk that “you can do things without words and it still has meaning, it still has an emotional connection.”

Some of the most beautiful moments of the film transpire in Monk’s loft, where she tends to her beloved forty-two-year-old turtle named Neutron, puts stuffed animals on her bed, meditates while staring at windows lined with Tibetan prayer flags, composes a new song, looks into a mirror as she braids her trademark pigtails, and sits at her small kitchen table, eating by herself. Surrounded by plants and personal photographs, she moves about slowly, profoundly alone, comfortable in who she is and what she has accomplished, contemplating what comes next.

“What happens when I’m not here anymore?” Monk, who received the 2014 National Medal of Arts from President Barack Obama, asks while working with director Yuval Sharon, conductor Francisco J. Núñez, and performer Joanna Lynn Jacobs on a remounting of Atlas for the LA Philharmonic in 2019. “It’s very rare that anybody gets it.”

Monk in Pieces goes a long way toward rectifying that, filling in the cracks, helping define her place in music history.

Monk in Pieces runs July 24-31 at IFC Center; there will be Q&As following the 6:45 screenings on July 24 with Monk, Shebar, and producer Susan Margolin, moderated by Schaefer; on July 25 with Monk, Shebar, and Margolin, moderated by violist Nadia Sirota; and on July 26 with Shebar.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]