this week in theater

BETRAYAL

(photo by Marc Brenner)

Jerry (Charlie Cox), Emma (Zawe Ashton), and Robert (Tom Hiddleston) are caught up in a circular love triangle in Betrayal (photo by Marc Brenner)

Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre
242 West 45th St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through December 8, $25 – $189
betrayalonbroadway.com

Jamie Lloyd’s minimalist reimagining of Harold Pinter’s Betrayal, which opened tonight at the Jacobs, is not just a great revival; it’s a wholly new, brilliant work of art that is so fresh and alive that I feel like I’ve never seen the play before, although I have twice. Inspired by Pinter’s real-life affair with Joan Bakewell, Betrayal goes backward in time as it details a circuitous love triangle involving gallery owner Emma (Zawe Ashton), her husband, book publisher Robert (Tom Hiddleston), and his best friend, literary agent Jerry (Charlie Cox). The story begins in 1977, as Jerry and Emma meet two years after their long affair ended, and concludes in 1968, when they first became attracted to each other. It’s like a mystery where you know who the killer and victim are but now have to find out what led to that outcome. Except in Betrayal there are no victims; all three protagonists are complicit in the lies and deceit that are deconstructed over the course of ninety tense minutes. (Perhaps the only victim is Jerry’s unseen wife, Judith.)

The suspense starts at the rise of the curtain, which reveals Soutra Gilmour’s stark set, featuring three chairs and the three characters standing in front of a long, L-shaped marble wall. Jerry and Emma each grab a chair and move to the tip of the stage, where they sit down and share intimate details of their relationship. It’s uncomfortable in an exciting yet unsettling way, getting right in the face of the audience; meanwhile, Robert stands in the back, as if a ghost listening in, the cuckold all alone. Throughout the play, as it travels in reverse chronology, the three characters are onstage nearly the entire time, moving the chairs around as they go from a bar to a restaurant to a furnished room, from England to Italy. In most of the scenes, two of them are speaking while the other hovers cryptically, although all three appear together a few times, amplifying the dynamic among them. They wear the same clothes through most of the play — Gilmour designed the costumes as well — as if they are trapped by time. The set also includes two rotating sections, slowly spinning the characters in circles, mimicking their relationships, especially at one dazzling moment when one circle goes clockwise, the other counterclockwise, leaving the audience awed and nearly dizzy. Jon Clark’s lighting amplifies the suspense, creating eerie shadows as the wall moves up and back.

(photo by Marc Brenner)

Emma (Zawe Ashton) considers her predicament in Pinter revival (photo by Marc Brenner)

All three characters lie, emitting falsehoods that are so intertwined with who they are that it’s impossible to take anything they say at face value. Their memories are untrustworthy too; for example, Jerry keeps forgetting whose kitchen he was in when he threw Charlotte, Emma and Robert’s daughter, up in the air, a seemingly insignificant fact that he just can’t get right, if we are to believe Emma. Lloyd (Assassins, Pinter’s The Caretaker) makes the most of Pinter’s trademark pauses and silences, incorporating specialized movement and incidental sound and music by Ben and Max Ringham; he even slyly includes a snippet of Susan Boyle’s haunting version of Depeche Mode’s “Enjoy the Silence.”

The three leads are phenomenal in a play that has always been a big-name vehicle. Raul Julia, Blythe Danner, and Roy Scheider teamed up in the Broadway debut in 1980, Liev Schreiber, Juliette Binoche, and John Slattery joined together for the 2000 revival, and Daniel Craig, Rachel Weisz, and Rafe Spall starred in Mike Nichols’s 2013 iteration; the 1983 film boasted Jeremy Irons, Patricia Hodge, and Ben Kingsley. The tall, lithe, classically trained Hiddleston (The Avengers, Othello) is elegant and graceful as Robert, a potent counterpart to Cox’s (Daredevil, Incognito) more earthy and straightforward Jerry; their longtime bromance adds an extra dimension to their individual relationships with Emma, who is stunningly portrayed by novelist, playwright, film director, and actress Ashton (Velvet Buzzsaw, Gone Too Far!); it is easy to see why both men fall in love with her. Emma is smart, beautiful, and ambitious, enticingly barefoot throughout, a woman who knows what she wants and is not afraid to go after it, but she doesn’t necessarily fully contemplate the potential consequences of her decisions. Eddie Arnold is humorous as the waiter in an Italian restaurant, but this Betrayal is not a dark tale in need of comic relief. I had never thought of it as a comedy, but it is surprisingly laugh-out-loud funny, particularly in Hiddleston’s often satirical delivery.

(photo by Marc Brenner)

Zawe Ashton, Charlie Cox, and Tom Hiddleston excel in Jamie Lloyd revival of Betrayal at the Jacobs (photo by Marc Brenner)

Theater is different from books and movies in that you can see plays multiple times in unique adaptations, each making their own mark on the story, for good or bad. You can read a book or see a film more than once, but it doesn’t change, although you do. With Betrayal, Lloyd has breathed new, vital life into Pinter’s nearly forty-year-old Olivier Award winner. In the opening scene, Emma tells Jerry, “It’s nice, sometimes, to think back. Isn’t it?” He replies, “Absolutely.” It’s also more than nice to think forward. Don’t miss this opportunity to see this profound, organic interpretation that captures the heart and soul of Pinter’s bold original.

NYU SKIRBALL FALL 2019 SEASON

Skirball

Joanne Akalaitis’s site-specific Bad News! I Was There . . . leads small audiences through the Skirball Center

NYU Skirball Center for the Performing Arts
566 La Guardia Pl.
September 6 – December 9
212-992-8484
nyuskirball.org

NYU Skirball’s mission is to “present work that inspires yet frustrates, confirms yet confounds, entertains yet upends.” They are staying true to their goals with an extremely impressive and daring fall season of music, theater, dance, literature, and talks. The season gets under way September 6-8 ($40) with the New York City premiere of former New York Shakespeare Festival head and five-time Obie winner Joanne Akalaitis’s Bad News! I Was There . . . , a site-specific performance in English, Greek, French, and German that takes four groups through the lobby, dressing room, and backstage area of the theater, mixing in sung and spoken excerpts from classic Greek tragedy. “‘I was there’ is a refrain heard every day on the news, often followed by ‘How can this happen? What’s wrong here? What should we do?’” Akailitis says about the show.

Philippe Quesne’s The Moles, set in a world without humans and words, consists of four presentation September 12-14: “Parade of the Moles,” a free tour of Greenwich Village on Thursday at 2:00; “Night of the Moles” on Friday and Saturday night ($30, 7:30), taking place in a burrow; and the family-friendly “Afternoon of the Moles” on Saturday afternoon ($20, 7:30), as the Moles form a punk band. If you missed Sam Mendes’s brilliant production of The Lehman Trilogy at the Park Avenue Armory, you can catch one of two “National Theatre Live” screenings at the Skirball on September 15 ($25, 2:00 & 7:00) On September 16, “NYU Writes: A Celebration of Writers and Writing at NYU” brings together Jeffrey Eugenides, Jonathan Safran Foer, Terrance Hayes, Yusef Komunyakaa, Nick Laird, Sharon Olds, and Zadie Smith, hosted by Deborah Landau (free with advance RSVP, 7:00).

(photo by Andrew Lieberman)

Daniel Fish reimagines Don DeLillo’s White Noise in multimedia production (photo by Andrew Lieberman)

Tony nominee Daniel Fish follows up his controversial reimagining of Oklahoma! with White Noise, a seventy-minute multimedia show “freely inspired” by Don DeLillo’s 1985 National Book Award-winning novel. Zoe Coombs Marr, Ursula Martinez, and Adrienne Truscott take on critics in Wild Bore September 27-28 ($35-$45, 7:30). And that just takes us through September; below are some of the highlights from October to December:

Sunday, October 6
National Theatre Live: Fleabag, $25, 7:00

Friday, October 11
and
Saturday, October 12

John Kelly: Underneath the Skin, $35-$45, 7:30

John Kelly channels Samuel Steward in show at Skirball

John Kelly channels Samuel Steward in show at Skirball

Friday, October 18
and
Saturday, October 19

ICE: George Lewis’s Soundlines — A Dreaming Track, $35-$45, 7:30

Friday, October 25
and
Saturday, October 26

Mette Ingvartsen: to come (extended), US premiere, $35-$45, 7:30

Friday, November 8
and
Saturday, November 9

Big Dance Theater: The Road Awaits Us, Ballet, Cage Shuffle: Redux, $35-$45, 7:30

Friday, December 7
and
Saturday, December 8

The Builders Association: Elements of Oz, $20-$25, 7:30

MAKE BELIEVE

(photo by Joan Marcus)

The Conlee kids are forced to fend for themselves in Bess Wohl’s Make Believe (photo by Joan Marcus)

2econd Stage Theater
Tony Kiser Theater
305 West 43rd St. between Eighth & Ninth Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through September 22, $30-$89
2st.com/shows

Bad things tend to happen in fictional stories involving attics. Think V. C. Andrews’s Flowers in the Attic, Yoji Sakate’s The Attic, Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, and Dan Curtis’s Burnt Offerings. If the brain is like a house with many rooms, the attic is where psychological fear resides (very different from the more otherworldly horrors that await in basements; ghosts live in attics, while demons hide down below). Such is the case with Bess Wohl’s poignant Make Believe, which has been extended at 2econd Stage’s Tony Kiser Theater through September 22. The Harvard and Yale grad further establishes herself as one of our smartest, most perceptive playwrights with the eighty-five-minute drama, even if there’s nothing particularly exceptional about the premise: Four young siblings become troubled adults because of severe parental neglect. But it’s Wohl’s skill in writing insightful dialogue and creating strong characters in convincing situations that makes the show a worthy successor to such previous works as American Hero, Small Mouth Sounds, and Continuity. So it’s no surprise that her next play, Grand Horizons, will make its New York debut on Broadway at the Hayes Theater in December.

Make Believe begins in 1980, as twelve-year-old Chris (Ryan Foust), ten-year-old Kate (Maren Heary), seven-year-old Addie (Casey Hilton), and five-year-old Carl (Harrison Fox) are playing in their attic, pretending to be “one big happy family,” Kate says, more wish fulfillment than reality. The attic, designed by David Zinn, is decked out with a large tent, tables and chairs, and large windows facing the street. Their father is on a business trip, and their mother has seemingly disappeared. At first the kids act like it’s no big deal, but as day turns into night and then day again, they start worrying about their survival, deciding to fend for themselves without ratting out their parents.

(photo by Joan Marcus)

The grown-up Conlees face a traumatic moment in their past in Bess Wohl play (photo by Joan Marcus)

As the show opens, Addie is playing with her Cabbage Patch Kid while her siblings hover in the background, dressed as ghosts in white sheets with eye holes cut out. It’s more ominous than sweet; something is going to happen that will haunt them for the rest of their lives. When they sit down for a pretend dinner with Kate as the mom, Chris as the dad, and Carl as the dog, they mimic their parents’ unhappiness and their own reticence about getting older and becoming adults. “Remember: Don’t ever have children,” Kate advises her siblings. Later, Addie says, “Grown-ups aren’t real anyway. They’re only monsters with masks on.” Just when you think that the whole show will be with the children only, the adults (Kim Fischer, Susannah Flood, Brad Heberlee, Samantha Mathis) enter the picture, and it’s not a pretty one. It’s thirty years later, and they’re back in the attic, revealing the scars their childhood imprinted on them.

The four young actors in Make Believe are exceptional; I could have watched them all night, each one doing a superb job handling complex material. Director Michael Greif (Dear Evan Hansen, Rent) provides a smooth transition to the present, the kids now adults picking up the pieces of their haunted past. The themes of how parents can mess up their children’s future and how hard it is for kids to get over bad memories are common ones, but Wohl maneuvers through it with breathtaking finesse and a quick wit. “Grow up. Grow up, you idiots,” the young Kate says, to which Addie responds, “A wolf is coming.” In Make Believe, the wolf is at the door of the attic, then and now, ready to attack.

LITTLE GEM

(photo by Carol Rosegg)

Kay (Marsha Mason) brings up some very private details in Little Gem at the Irish Rep (photo by Carol Rosegg)

Irish Repertory Theatre, Francis J. Greenburger Mainstage
132 West 22nd St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
Through September 8, $50-$70
212-727-2737
irishrep.org

Three generations of women in a North Dublin family share their foibles and exert their fortitude in successive monologues in Marc Atkinson Borrull’s engaging if not quite sparkling revival of Elaine Murphy’s Little Gem, running at the Irish Rep through September 8. First seen in the US at the Flea in 2010, the hundred-minute play begins with eighteen-year-old Amber (Lauren O’Leary), who enters a doctor’s office waiting room (the antiseptic set is by Meredith Ries) and talks about a night of partying at a high school ball with her best friend, Jo, involving drugs and alcohol, dancing, and her maybe-boyfriend, Paul. “Jo and me just did a line in the toilets. Feeling nice. The music is thumping in my chest. Unce, unce, unce. Like this fuzzy feeling, know exactly where I am but when I close my eyes I could be anywhere,” she says dreamily.

When she is done, her mother, Lorraine (Brenda Meaney), comes in and, while Amber watches her, discusses a strange occurrence at the store where she works that ends up with her having to speak with human resources. The “HR bird” asks her about her ill father. “She reaches across the desk and touches my hand. Don’t remember the last time someone touched me, hugged me, or even bleedin’ nudged me,” Lorraine admits to the audience.

And then Kay (Marsha Mason), Amber’s grandmother and Lorraine’s mother, walks in and, while the other two look at her, describes her vaginal itch and her ill husband, Gem, who she loves but calls a “cantankerous oul’ fuck.” She says, “I’m the wrong side of sixty, not dead. I haven’t had sex in well over a year and it’s killing me.” So off she goes to Ann Summers to purchase her very first vibrator.

(photo by Carol Rosegg)

Grandmother Kay (Marsha Mason), granddaughter Amber (Lauren O’Leary), and mother Lorraine (Brenda Meaney) share their fears and desires in Irish Rep revival (photo by Carol Rosegg)

Sex, significant others, loneliness, and the pains of life and death are the key themes as the trio of women continue alternating monologues. Amber becomes pregnant. Lorraine, who is divorced from Ray, goes on her first date ever with a man she met at a salsa dance class. And Kay tries to use her vibrator while worrying about Gem’s health. They meander across the stage, occasionally sitting down, as they open up about intimate details of their innermost fears and desires; while the youngest, Amber, has no filter, Lorraine is ready to burst out of her sheltered existence and Kay is a bit surprised by how brutally honest she is.

Everything about Murphy’s (Ribbons, Shush) first play is solid, from Borrull’s (Beginning, Outlying Islands) effective direction to the performances by four-time Oscar nominee Mason (The Goodbye Girl, Fire and Air), Meaney (Indian Ink, Incognito), and, in her off-Broadway debut, O’Leary (The Awkward Years), but Little Gem never quite grabs you as it should, falling just short of reaching the next level it aims for. Like life itself, it can be disappointing, but there are enough genuine moments to recommend it, even if it doesn’t glitter.

NYC BROADWAY WEEK SUMMER 2019

(photo by Matthew Murphy)

Ain’t Too Proud – The Life and Times of the Temptations is one of twenty-four shows participating in Broadway Week (photo by Matthew Murphy)

BROADWAY WEEK: 2-for-1 Tickets
September 3-16, buy one ticket, get one free
www.nycgo.com/broadwayweek

Tickets are on sale for the end-of-summer edition of Broadway Week, which runs September 3-16 and offers theater lovers a chance to get two-for-one tickets in advance to see new and long-running productions on the Great White Way. Two dozen shows are participating, but one is already sold out — The Lion King — so you need to act fast. You can still grab seats, either half-price or a $30 upgrade, for Ain’t Too Proud – The Life and Times of the Temptations, Aladdin, Beautiful: The Carole King Musical, Beetlejuice, Betrayal, The Book of Mormon, Chicago, Come from Away, Dear Evan Hansen, Derren Brown: Secret, Frozen, The Great Society, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, The Height of the Storm, Mean Girls, Oklahoma!, The Phantom of the Opera, Sea Wall / A Life, Slave Play, The Sound Inside, Tootsie, Waitress, and Wicked.

EUREKA DAY

(photo by Robert Altman)

A woke executive committee at a California private school tries to reach a consensus in Eureka Day (photo by Robert Altman)

Walkerspace
46 Walker St. between Broadway & Church St.
Wednesday – Sunday, through September 21, $25-$40
www.coltcoeur.org

Political correctness, inclusivity, neurodiversity, sensitivity, and conflict avoidance run amok in Colt Coeur’s East Coast premiere of Jonathan Spector’s uproarious satire, Eureka Day, which opened last night at Walkerspace. When an unvaccinated student at a supposedly woke California private school, Eureka Day, contracts mumps and the county health department issues a quarantine order, the executive committee, which strives to treat all children, students, and parents with equal respect and considers every opinion valid, suddenly faces a crisis that makes it question its most basic value systems. The white Don (Thomas Jay Ryan), Eli (Brian Wiles), and Suzanne (Tina Benko), the black Carina (Elizabeth Carter), and the Asian Meiko (K.K. Moggie) meet in the elementary school library; the cluttered room (designed by John McDermott) features three tall bookshelves, divided into Fiction, Nonfiction, and Social Justice, as if the third one is neither fiction nor nonfiction, fake nor real. The alphabet circling the room consists of such words as “co-op” for C, “democracy” for D, “trans” for T, and “union” for U.

The committee, which makes decisions only by consensus — heated arguments are not their thing, because offensive language or behavior of any kind will not be tolerated — agrees to hold a live community activated conversation over social media, an online town hall about the health situation. Despite Don’s peaceful intentions, it erupts into a frenzy of personal attacks between those parents in favor of vaccinations and those against — a larger number than anyone anticipated — but even the phrasing causes problems. “‘Anti-vaxxer’ is not really a term I’m comfortable with. It’s actually something said out of IGNORANCE,” one mother posts, while a father writes, “TRUE FACTS: Moonlanding wasn’t faked / 9/11 wasn’t an inside job / Global Warming is real / Vaccines Don’t Cause Autism.” The committee shuts it down when it devolves into curses and vicious name-calling, but the controversy soon blossoms among the five of them when it is learned that Suzanne and Meiko refuse to vaccinate their children, while Eli and Carina have immunized theirs. Don, the head of the school, doesn’t have the same skin in the game, as he is childless.

(photo by Robert Altman)

A live community activated conversation over social media looks at a community health crisis in Jonathan Spector’s black comedy (photo by Robert Altman)

Don, Suzanne, Eli, and Meiko are determined not to offend anyone, in any way, ever — even the scones they eat are carefully sourced and served — but Carina, the newest member of the committee, is not afraid to state her case for fact-based science over undereducated opinion, which does not make Suzanne happy. And it only gets worse when race, religion, and class enter the fray, rearing their ugly heads in the hallowed halls of Eureka Day.

Adroitly directed with subtle, dry humor by Adrienne Campbell-Holt (Downstairs, Joan), Eureka Day is a shrewd, cunning laceration of would-be social justice warriors, conspiracy theories, identity politics, and the education system. The characters are well drawn and fully believable, portrayed by a terrific cast led by Benko (Top Girls, Nantucket Sleigh Ride), who matter-of-factly contorts her body in funny ways throughout, and Ryan (The Nap, Dance Nation) as the soft and tender though oblivious Don, looking ever-so-gentle and caring in his shorts and mandals (without socks) as he attempts to steer clear of confrontation. The story has a little extra oomph here in New York City, where a measles outbreak in Brooklyn has spread fear and misinformation, especially on the internet. It’s Pollyanna-ish to think, in this day and age, that everyone gets a say, that every opinion bears equal weight despite the evidence. As it becomes clear in Eureka Day, in an environment in which everyone wins, there eventually has to be losers. But it’s not always who you might think.

BAT OUT OF HELL: THE MUSICAL

(Little Fang Photo)

Strat (Andrew Polec) and Raven (Christina Bennington) take off like bats out of hell in Jim Steinman musical (Little Fang Photo)

New York City Center
130 West 56th St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through September 8, $49-$249
212-581-1212
batoutofhellmusical.com
www.nycitycenter.org

When I took my seat at Jim Steinman’s Bat Out of Hell at City Center last week, there was already a buzz of excitement in the air just before the lights went down, like before a rock concert. Everything hushed for a moment and then exploded: Meat Loaf had entered the building. Mr. Marvin Lee Aday, better known by his beefy appellation, had come to see the show for the first time in New York City. BOOH is an extravaganza based on the three albums he made with Steinman, 1977’s Bat Out of Hell, 1993’s Bat Out of Hell II: Back into Hell, and 2006’s Bat Out of Hell III: The Monster Is Loose. His entrance recalled Gene Wilder’s initial appearance in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory as the seventy-one-year-old Meat Loaf, who has multiple health issues, moved very slowly, relying on a cane to walk. Fans congregated around him for selfies anyway, but eventually darkness came and the show went on. It was more fun watching Meat Loaf himself taking his seat; you can throw just about anything you want into a meatloaf and still end up with a satisfying dish, but you can’t do that with a fully fledged musical that’s charging up to $225 a ticket.

(Little Fang Photo)

Falco (Bradley Dean) and Sloane (Lena Hall) search for paradise by the dashboard light in Bat Out of Hell (Little Fang Photo)

Bat Out of Hell: The Musical is fifty years in the making, beginning with Steinman’s Brecht-inspired Baal in 1968 and his Peter Pan-influenced Neverland in 1977. This final version debuted in February 2017 at the Manchester Opera House and has been touring the world; it continues at City Center through September 8, but I can’t recommend you get tickets as soon as possible because the show is an absolute mess, nay, a nearly complete disaster, starting with the opening piece, “Love and Death and an American Guitar,” a two-character narration that just might be the worst first few minutes of a major musical I have ever seen. For the next two and a half hours, things occasionally got better — there are even a few dazzling highlights — as Steinman and director Jay Scheib evoke such wide-ranging shows and movies as Grease, The Warriors, Romeo & Juliet, Mad Max, Jesus Christ Superstar, Hair, Godspell, and Peter Pan, all of which are far superior to this head-scratchingly bizarre weirdness that is all revved up with no place to go.

The story takes place in 2030 in a postapocalyptic Manhattan, now known as Obsidian, that has been drifting out at sea after an unnamed “cataclysmic event.” The city is run with an iron fist by Falco (Bradley Dean), whose wife, Sloane (Tony winner Lena Hall), is bored and drinks too much; their daughter, Raven (Christina Bennington), wants to break out of her sheltered, pampered existence as she turns eighteen. For no apparent reason, she falls in love with Strat (Andrew Polec), the ersatz leader of a group of homeless kids known as the Lost, living under the ruins of the American Museum of Natural History, by an abandoned tunnel and skeevy bar called the Deep End. (Much of that information comes from perusing the actual script; the details are nowhere to be found onstage.) The headstrong Falco is ready to do everything in his power to keep Strat and Raven apart, including using the military force of his armed units. The cataclysm has frozen the disenchanted youths in time; the Lost are all eighteen years old, condemned never to grow into adulthood. “To be forever eighteen and irresponsible? It’d be fucking great,” Sloane tells Raven. Except maybe not.

(Little Fang Photo)

The Lost fight the power, battling Falco, in City Center show (Little Fang Photo)

Among the other members of the Lost are Strat’s right-hand man, Jagwire (Tyrick Wiltez Jones), who has the hots for the bold Zahara (Danielle Steers); the trio of Ledoux (Billy Lewis Jr.), Valkyrie (Jessica Jaunich), and Kwaidan (Kayla Cyphers), who occasionally find themselves front and center; and Tink (Avionce Hoyles), a fairy-like character (think Tinker Bell) who also is in love with Strat and who resents being frozen several years before he turned eighteen, so everyone treats him like a little kid. The dilapidated set, by costume designer Jon Bausor, features a slanted glass high-rise where Falco, Sloane, and Raven live; we can often see inside Raven’s window as she writes in a notebook or fights with her parents. Those scenes are usually accompanied by a videographer who films what is happening, which is annoyingly and confusingly live-streamed on a far wall. (The video design is by the usually inventive and dependable Finn Ross.)

The music, for the most part, is fine; musical director Ryan Cantwell and orchestrator Steve Sidwell don’t futz around too much with the original arrangements, and the pit band, comprising three keyboardists, two guitarists, a bassist, a drummer, and a percussionist, does justice to such songs as “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad” (sung beautifully by Jones and Steers), “Heaven Can Wait,” the poignant ensemble piece “Objects in the Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are,” “You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth (Hot Summer Night),” “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That),” and “Bat Out of Hell,” but Xena Gusthart’s choreography is baffling when it isn’t downright, er, batty. If you do choose to see the show, don’t miss the inexplicable movements of what appears to be a group of pansexual Oompa Loompas during a wild version of “Paradise by the Dashboard Light,” manically performed in flashback by Dean and Hall. And if you’re wondering how Air Supply’s “Making Love Out of Nothing at All” ended up here, it’s because Steinman wrote it for Meat Loaf, who turned it down for financial reasons.

(Little Fang Photo)

Bat Out of Hell: The Musical explodes with bizarre moments (Little Fang Photo)

While there are some fine ingredients — Bennington, Hall, Jones, and Steers are standouts — the result is significantly less than savory. Fortunately, the night I went, Meat Loaf eventually stored away his cane and joined the cast for an encore of “You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth (Hot Summer Night)”; he might not be in top form, but he is a force of nature, one of the most charismatic, magnetic characters ever to grab a mic, and it was a thrill to see him onstage again, even after the cataclysmic disaster that preceded him, leaving us with an ultracool dessert to finish off an otherwise dreadfully disappointing meal.