this week in theater

REST IN PEACE, NEW YORK: THEATER, WOMEN, AND IMMIGRATION

Japan Society will host special reading on May 14 organized by artist Shirotama Hitsujiya (photo by Shirotama Hitsujiya)

Japan Society
333 East 47th St. at First Ave.
Monday, May 14, $10, 7:30
212-715-1258
www.japansociety.org

Tokyo-based performance artist and playwright Shirotama Hitsujiya will be at Japan Society on May 14 as part of her residency, leading the program “Rest in Peace, New York: Theater, Women, and Immigration.” Hitsujiya, the artistic director of YUBIWA Hotel and a founding member of AJOKAI (Asian Women Performing Arts Collective), has been collecting stories of Vietnamese women who have immigrated to New York City. Their interview-based words are being transcribed onto a makimono, a horizontal rice-paper handscroll, and will be read aloud Monday night by Catherine Filloux of Theatre Without Borders, Vietnam Heritage Center executive director Thùy Q. Phạm, Theatre Communications Group director of artistic and international programs Emilya Cachapero, Michi Barall of the Ma-Yi Theater Company, harunalee company director Kristine Haruna Lee, and Foundry Theatre artistic producer and founder Melanie Joseph, among others. The reading will be followed by an audience Q&A with the participants; tickets are only $10.

THE ICEMAN COMETH

David Morse, Denzel Washington, and Colm Meaney star in George C. Wolfe’s Broadway revival of The Iceman Cometh (photo by Julieta Cervantes)

Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre
242 West 45th St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through July 1, $79 – $209
icemanonbroadway.com

Two-time Oscar and Tony winner Denzel Washington is nothing short of majestic as traveling hardware salesman Theodore “Hickey” Hickman in George C. Wolfe’s powerful adaptation of Eugene’ O’Neill’s staggering masterpiece, The Iceman Cometh. Washington’s charm lights up the dark goings-on at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre, where set designer Santo Loquasto has transformed the stage into the No Chance Saloon, the Bedrock Bar, the End of the Line Café, a dank, depressing Greenwich Village dive in 1912 owned by Harry Hope (Colm Meaney) that is populated by a gang of luckless losers intent on drinking themselves into oblivion. The only thing they have to look forward to is the twice-a-year arrival of Hickey, who cheers them up by filling them with free drinks and telling wild stories from the real world outside. He’s like Jesus turning water into whiskey for his apostles, who consist of Larry Slade (David Morse), a former activist who has turned his back on life and wants nothing to do with anyone; Ed Mosher (Bill Irwin), a former circus performer; Harvard Law School graduate Willie Oban (Neal Huff); Boer War nemeses Piet Wetjoen (Dakin Matthews) and Cecil Lewis (Frank Wood); nighttime bartender Rocky Pioggi (Danny McCarthy), who also is a pimp for Margie (Nina Grollman), Pearl (Carolyn Braver), and Cora (Tammy Blanchard); Chuck Morello (Danny Mastrogiorgio), the daytime bartender who is in love with Cora; disgraced NYPD detective Pat McGloin (Jack McGee); communist revolutionary Hugo Kalmar (Clark Middleton), who sleeps through much of the show; Joe Mott (Michael Potts), the only African American at the bar, who wants to open a black-only gambling house; and Jimmy Tomorrow (Reg Rogers), a former journalist who believes he will return to society “tomorrow.”

Larry is deeply disturbed when Don Parritt (Austin Butler) shows up, the teenage son of an old lover from Larry’s anarchist days. Don desperately wants Larry’s approval and acceptance, but Larry refuses to care about anyone or anything, choosing to drink till he dies even though he’s probably the only person in the bar who could actually still play a role in society. As the men and women bicker, argue, joke around, and prepare for Harry’s birthday party, Hickey finally arrives, bigger and better than ever, immediately injecting life into the motley group of drunks. But this time around, Hickey, in his trademark straw hat, has something more to offer besides free drinks and Champagne: He is determined to help each man find a reason to stop being a worthless drunk and instead pick himself off his barstool, return to the real world, and make his “pipe dreams” come true. He is also armed with a secret that he’s not quite ready to share.

Harry Hope’s (Colm Meaney) birthday party is reminiscent of “The Last Supper” in The Iceman Cometh (photo by Julieta Cervantes)

Four-time Pulitzer Prize winner O’Neill (Long Day’s Journey into Night, Strange Interlude) wrote The Iceman Cometh in 1939, but it was not staged until after WWII, in 1946, debuting at the Martin Beck Theatre. It deals with politics, racism, and the forgotten men of America, but O’Neill does not blame society, the economy, or war for their alcoholism and retreat from existence; these are men who would have given up no matter the era, lending the play a terrifying kind of timelessness. Hickey has never been their savior; ironically, he is the one who betrays them by suddenly trying to give meaning to their miserable lives. Wolfe even stages the party scene at a long table reminiscent of Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper.” Wolfe has trimmed the show down to a slim three hours and fifty minutes, with two intermissions and a pause, pacing the drama well, like drinking a smooth glass of high-end whiskey and not a shot, or full bottle, or rotgut. The cast is exceptional, a team of pros giving it everything they’ve got. Meaney brings depth to Harry, Rogers plays Jimmy with just the right tease of hope, Potts adeptly handles the racism angle, and Butler, in his Broadway debut, is bright-eyed and determined as the young Don, a part previously played by such future stars as Jeff Bridges and Robert Redford.

Hickey (Denzel Washington) has quite a story to tell in Eugene O’Neill revival at the Jacobs Theatre (photo by Julieta Cervantes)

But the key to the success of the show is the relationship between Hickey and Larry; over the years, the former has been portrayed by Jason Robards, Kevin Spacey, Brian Dennehy, James Earl Jones, Lee Marvin, and Nathan Lane, while the latter has been played by James Cromwell, Robert Ryan, Patrick Stewart, Conrad Bain, Tim Pigott-Smith, and Dennehy. Washington and Morse, who both starred as doctors in the groundbreaking, Emmy-winning 1980s series St. Elsewhere, are staunch and deeply affecting in their roles. Morse’s Larry is loud and angry, often walking to the sides of the stage to just watch the other losers, as if he is better than them, even if he won’t admit it. Washington’s Hickey throws knowing glances at Larry; he wants his friend to change but knows it’s unlikely. Washington commands the stage with his full body, gesturing with his arms and legs, at times hunching over just a bit and leaning his head forward as he spreads his new ideas. He delivers the final monologue — on a chair, not a cross — beautifully as his disciples gaze intently from behind. Both Washington and Morse have received Tony nominations for their performances; the show has also been nominated for Best Revival, Best Scenic Design, Best Costume Design (Ann Roth), Best Lighting (Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer), Best Sound (Dan Moses Schreier), and Best Director. The title comes from Hickey’s classic story about returning home one day to unexpectedly find the ice salesman with his wife in the hay, but it also refers to the specter of death haunting each one of these characters.

CHILDREN OF A LESSER GOD

James Leeds (Joshua Jackson) and Sarah Norman (Lauren Ridloff) experience communications problems in Broadway revival of Children of a Lesser God (photo by Matthew Murphy)

Studio 54
254 West 54th St. between Seventh & Eighth Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through May 27, $29-$159
www.childrenofalessergodbroadway.com

Every so often a previously successful play returns to Broadway in a revival that makes you wonder not only why it’s back but what the heck made it so special in the first place. Such is the case with Mark Medoff’s Children of a Lesser God, which just announced an early closing date of May 27 at Studio 54. Medoff wrote the play specifically for deaf actress Phyllis Frelich, loosely based on her real-life relationship with her husband, Robert Steinberg. The original 1980 production ran at the Longacre Theatre for more than two years and was nominated for four Tonys, winning Best Play, Best Actress (Frelich), and Best Actor (John Rubinstein). The British edition won the Olivier for Best New Play as well as Best Actress (Elizabeth Quinn) and Best Actor (Trevor Eve). And the 1986 film version was nominated for five Oscars, including Best Picture, and winning for Best Actress (Marlee Matlin). So went wrong this time around? Where should I begin?

There’s a whole lot of sitting around in ill-fated revival at Studio 54 (photo by Matthew Murphy)

Kenny Leon’s revival is stultifyingly dull — dare I say tone-deaf — as it explores the relationship between James Leeds (Drama League–nominated Joshua Jackson), a speech teacher at a school for the deaf, and Sarah Norman (Tony-nominated Lauren Ridloff), a twenty-six-year-old maid at the school who refuses to verbalize and fiercely rejects any attempt to help her do so. Sarah sees learning to speak as a betrayal of the nonhearing world she is proudly a part of, while James can’t understand why she wouldn’t want to speak or even use the latest technology that might allow her to at least pick up vibrations of sound. Very quickly, James falls for Sarah — well, it’s more like he stalks her — which upsets Sarah’s best friend, Orin (John McGinty), as well as the jealous Lydia (Treshelle Edmond), both students at the school. It also alarms the principal, Mr. Franklin (Anthony Edwards). In their Broadway debuts, Jackson (The Affair, Fringe) speaks too loudly and enunciates too clearly, never varying his speech pattern regardless of what he’s saying to whom, and Emmy winner Edwards speaks too softly, making it hard to hear much of what he has to say. All signed words are spoken out loud by the hearing actor being signed to, while all spoken words are shown in supertitles that are not always in sync with what is being said, often slightly ahead of the action. Whether all this is deliberate or not — Is the hearing world out of sync with the nonhearing? Does the experience of the hearing audience in such straits echo the experience of the nonhearing, faced with bad closed captions? — it just doesn’t work here. The sappy songs by Stevie Wonder and Wings don’t help, nor does Branford Marsalis’s tepid incidental music. It all feels more like a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie of the week than a Broadway production with lofty ticket prices. Tony, Obie, Drama Desk, and Emmy winner Derek McLane’s set consists of multiple open doorways that lead nowhere, least of all the exit. The title of the play comes from the “Passing of Arthur” section of Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s Idylls of the King, which now doubles as the passing of this well-meaning but hackneyed revival, after a mere 23 previews and, coincidentally enough, 54 regular performances at Studio 54.

DANCE NATION

Dance Teacher Pat (Thomas Jay Ryan) leads the team through rehearsal in Dance Nation (photo by Joan Marcus)

Playwrights Horizons
Peter Jay Sharp Theater
416 West 42nd St. between Ninth & Tenth Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through July 1, $59-$99
www.playwrightshorizons.org

Clare Barron’s Dance Nation is a brilliant, savvy comedy that moves and grooves to a magnetic beat that melds the present and the future in ingenious ways. The swiftly paced 105-minute play, which opened tonight at Playwrights Horizons, follows a Liverpool, Ohio, preteen dance team on the road to a potential championship in Tampa Bay. But the six girls and one boy, who are between eleven and fourteen, are played by grown-ups who range in age from their twenties to their sixties, imbuing the characters with the knowledge they have gained through experience. Barron considers it a “ghost play,” where the children haunt their adult selves and vice versa, as if the kids know what they will become. Through sharp, honest dialogue, tremendous humor, and more than a bit of anger and rage, Barron and Obie-winning director-choreographer Lee Sunday Evans employ stereotypes in order to reclaim and redefine them for the #MeToo generation. The team consists of star dancer Amina (Dina Shihabi), confidence-challenged Zuzu (Eboni Booth), practical Connie (Purva Bedi), not-as-talented Maeve (Obie winner Ellen Maddow), wise-beyond-her-years Sofia (Camila Canó-Flaviá), advanced, anarchic Ashlee (Lucy Taylor), and gentle, soft-spoken Luke (Ikechukwu Ufomadu), representing multiple races, ethnicities, classes, and body shapes. The tension between the intense bonds of an adolescent group and individual ambition is beautifully explored.

The girls and Luke (Ikechukwu Ufomadu) prepare for their new piece in award-winning play by Clare Barron (photo by Joan Marcus)

The team is entering a group competition, but each dancer has his or her own dreams and goals; some want to stand out more than others, so when Vanessa (Christina Rouner) gets hurt at the end of a performance, blood oozing around a broken bone in her leg, her teammates run away or avoid her, knowing that such a fate could befall any of them. But their fearless leader, Dance Teacher Pat (Thomas Jay Ryan), readies them for the next competition, for which he has choreographed a dance drily hilarious in its topic and treatment: “an acro-lyrical” piece about a heroic male activist who brought about change in his country and around the world. The girls and Luke discuss who should play the lead, talk about masturbation, deal with their mothers, and celebrate the many strengths their discipline affords them. In unison they chant, “If I could dance and nobody would ever want to kill another person again / Or be racist again / Or feel alone at night again / Or abandon their pets without a home again / That’s what I would do / That’s what I would do / That’s what I want to do with my life.”

Dance Teacher Pat (Thomas Jay Ryan) talks strategy with Zuzu (photo by Joan Marcus)

Dance Teacher Pat (Thomas Jay Ryan) talks strategy with Zuzu (Eboni Booth) as competition nears (photo by Joan Marcus)

In one of the play’s most amazing moments, the brash and bold Ashlee delivers a scathing monologue that essentially screams in the face of the gender gap, recognizing the terrifying power of sex, desire, beauty, and youth along with her own ambition. Focusing on her face and body but with deeper meaning, she describes her “epic bottom” and how men like to stroke it, brags about her penchant for math, and wonders how to handle it all. “I’m a little afraid of what would happen if I really went for it,” she says. “Like if I tried. If I really, really tried. Like if I acknowledged it. Just embraced it. Like if I walked down the street and looked those men straight in the eyes and said: ‘Yes, I’m beautiful and I’m gonna get a perfect score on the SAT, Math, Reading and Writing, motherfucker, and yes I’m only thirteen years old now but just wait ten more years. . . . I am your god. I am your second coming. I am your mother and I’m smarter than you and more attractive than you and better than you at everything that you love and you’re going to get down on your knees and worship my mind, my mind and my body and I’m gonna be the motherfucking KING of your motherfucking world.’” Barron makes it clear that this is a woman-dominated world; Rouner plays several of the dancers’ mothers, with fathers nary mentioned. Even the town’s incoming priest is a woman.

The dance team is ready for action in Dance Nation at Playwrights Horizons (photo by Joan Marcus)

Dance Nation has much in common with The Wolves, Sarah DeLappe’s dazzling play about a girls soccer team. In fact, the two works shared the inaugural Relentless Award, given in honor of Philip Seymour Hoffman to plays that “are challenging,” “exhibit fearlessness,” “are not mainstream,” “exude passion,” and “are relentlessly truthful.” Dance Nation, which also won the Susan Smith Blackburn Prize, awarded to an outstanding English-language work by a woman, is all that and more. The Washington-born Barron was inspired to write Dance Nation after seeing the “horrific” reality show Dance Moms and also being insulted by a male theater journalist because she is a woman, regretting that she let him get away with his demeaning treatment of her. She calls out everything she can in this thrilling production, deftly addressing hot-button issues in both daring and subtle ways. In one critical locker-room scene, most of the girls change in full view of the audience, revealing their very different bodies without pride or shame. Ryan (The Amateurs, Travels with My Aunt) has a blast as the team’s conductor, ably guiding them across Arnulfo Maldonado’s set, primarily a rehearsal studio that morphs into a grassy hill and other scenes. The six women and one man playing the dancers are all outstanding, forming a terrific team; Barron (You Got Older, I’ll Never Love Again) and Obie winner Evans (Home, [Porto]) give each their moment to shine, but it is as an ensemble that this corps glows brightest.

ME & MR. JONES: MY INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP WITH DAVID BOWIE

Raquel Cion brings her deeply personal David Bowie tribute to Pangea on May 11 & 12 (photo by Jody Christopherson)

Pangea NYC
178 Second Ave. between Eleventh & Twelfth Sts.
Friday, May 11, and Saturday, May 12, $20 in advance, $25 at the door, $20 food/beverage minimum, 9:30
212-995-0900
www.meandmrjonesshow.com
www.pangeanyc.com

In a November 2015 twi-ny talk, Raquel Cion said, “Isn’t it great to be amidst a flurry of Bowie activity?” referring to Bowie’s sudden resurgence with an off-Broadway musical, new album, and various other new songs. “Oh, I have so much to say,” she added. Cion continues to have much to say as the show keeps evolving, especially following Bowie’s death in January 2016 at the age of sixty-nine; the recent opening of the immensely popular “David Bowie is” exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum, for which you need to get timed tickets in advance; and her own battle with cancer. In Me & Mr. Jones: My Intimate Relationship with David Bowie, librarian and chanteuse Cion reflects on her life through her worship of Bowie — who was born David Jones — singing Bowie songs and sharing deeply personal anecdotes that are both moving and funny. She is now bringing her glittery multimedia performance, which was nominated for a 2015 New York Cabaret Award for Best Musical Comedy or Alt Cabaret Show, to Pangea May 11-12, joined by Jeremy Bass on guitar, Daniel Shuman on bass, Michael Ryan Morales on drums, and Karl Saint Lucy on piano. If you’ve seen it before, Cion is promising significant ch-ch-ch-changes for this iteration. The show is directed by Cynthia Cahill, and Cion’s glam outfits are by David Quinn. Tickets are $20 in advance and $25 at the door, with a $20 food and beverage minimum.

BELOVED/DEPARTED

Beloved/Departed invites guests to the wedding of Orpheus (Joshua James) and Eurydice (Kendra Slack) at the West Park Presbyterian Church (photo by Russ Rowland)

The Center at West Park
West Park Presbyterian Church
165 West 86th St. at Amsterdam Ave.
Wednesday – Saturday through May 18, $45-$75, 8:00
www.linkeddancetheatre.com

A significant part of the attraction of immersive theatrical productions is the opportunity to wander through cool places you might not otherwise see. Third Rail Projects took the audience behind the scenes of the Claire Tow Theater at Lincoln Center for Ghost Light and is still guiding people through a former parochial school in Greenpoint in Then She Fell, Creative Time led adventurers around the Brooklyn Navy Yard for Doomocracy, the musical KPOP sang and danced its way up and down A.R.T., and Woodshed Collective’s Empire Travel Agency even drove participants around Lower Manhattan. In Beloved/Departed, which opened last night and continues through May 18, Linked Dance Theatre invites guests to the ill-fated wedding of Orpheus and Eurydice at the Center at West Park, where they will be led all over the late-nineteenth-century West Park Presbyterian Church. The low-budget production offers ticket holders three options: being part of the wedding party ($75) or choosing to sit on the groom’s or bride’s side ($45). Each choice results in a slightly different experience, but everyone gets to see the key scenes. Musician and poet Orpheus (Joshua James) is given away by Apollo (Calvin Tsang), the sun god, while nymph Eurydice (Kendra Slack) is given away by Apollo’s twin sister, Artemis (Kellyn Thornburg), the goddess of the hunt; the siblings do not much care for each other, and their rift affects the newly married couple when Eurydice suddenly disappears and the characters and guests set out to find her. Among the other celebrants who become involved in the story are Hermes (Maya Gonzalez), Aphrodite (Rita McCann), Hades (director Jordan Chlapecka), Persephone (Chloe Markewich), Charon (Matt Engle), Hymen (Engle), and the Muse (Oliver Burke “Tillett”). Guest are led by various gods through the balcony, into the basement, and around small rooms until Eurydice is found and the plot takes a much darker turn.

Twins Artemis (Kellyn Thornburg) and Apollo (Calvin Tsang) are at odds throughout Beloved/Departed (photo by Russ Rowland)

Conceived by Slack and Chlapecka, Beloved/Departed has a DIY feel to it, from curtains draped awkwardly to set off or block certain areas, relatively lame reception snacks, and curiously used paper airplanes; at one point a few guests were even asked to clear some tables. In addition, the search for clues is disappointing, as the audience members don’t really get to find information, despite being led to believe otherwise. (And don’t lean against the upstairs columns.) But there are also neat touches and a charming creativity in evidence, including the presents from other gods, mingling with characters at the party, and lots of Prosecco. A string quartet, consisting of Camille Enderlin and Leerone Hakami on violin, Anna Heflin on viola, and Lydia Paulos on cello, is excellent, following the action through the 10,000-square-foot space, accompanying the dancing, primarily duets that further reveal the characters’ motives and emotions, with such pairings as Orpheus with Eurydice, Apollo with Artemis, Orpheus with the Muse, and Aphrodite with Hermes. Some of the actors and dancers are more polished than others (James stands out as Orpheus, who has a down-home charm), and the play is probably about a half hour too long, as the pacing is far too inconsistent; immersive shows need to keep the audience involved every minute to keep up interest. Linked Dance Theatre — which has previously staged such works as Like Real People Do, If You Tame Me, Soul of the Sea, and Freaks Don’t Cry in such locations as Central Park, the Rockaway Brewing Company, the Coney Island Side Show, and on board the docked Lilac ship — also alter the mythology, so Greek classicists shouldn’t think too hard about every detail. Members of the wedding party get to drink Prosecco before everyone else and learn a little more background at the beginning (for example, groomsmen play cards with Orpheus and Apollo and share some secrets), but I’m not sure it’s worth the additional thirty dollars, unless you really can’t wait to start drinking. So it’s an up-and-down affair, in more ways than one.

PUBLIC THEATER MOBILE UNIT: HENRY V

Hamlet (Chukwudi Iwuji) is back home at the Public Theater after Mobile Unite road trip across the five boroughs (photo by Joan Marcus)

Henry V is back home at the Public Theater after Mobile Unit road trip across the five boroughs (photo by Joan Marcus)

The Shiva Theater at the Public Theater
425 Lafayette St.
Tuesday – Sunday through May 13, free with advance tickets
212-539-8500
publictheater.org

“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. / For he to-day that sheds his blood with me / Shall be my brother,” King Henry V says in the fourth act of William Shakespeare’s history play. But it’s a sister who leads the charge in the Public Theater’s Mobile Unit adaptation. From March 29 to April 21, the Mobile Unit took to the road, fulfilling Joe Papp’s mandate to bring free Shakespeare to the people, presenting Henry V at such locations as the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Community Center in Manhattan, the Roy Wilkins Recreation Center in Queens, the Brownsville Recreation Center in Brooklyn, the Williamsbridge Oval Recreation Center in the Bronx, and Faber Park Field House in Staten Island as well as women’s prisons and homeless shelters. It’s now back home at the Public’s Shiva Theater, where it continues — for free — through May 13. Two-time Obie winner Robert O’Hara’s production features nine actors in more than two dozen roles, but what makes this version unforgettable is a phenomenal performance by Zenzi Williams as the monarch who attacks France after being mocked with a gift of tennis balls from the Dauphin (Michael Bradley Cohen), among other reasons. As Henry, she dominates the small, intimate stage at the Shiva, where the audience sits in three rising rows on all four sides of a central square area, the only props a carpet that is half Union Jack, half fleur-de-lys, and a black throne on wheels. (The set design is by Tony winner Clint Ramos, who also did the costumes.) Williams (The Crucible, The Homecoming Queen) delivers a bold, impassioned interpretation with a spectacular grasp of Shakespeare’s language and meter, worthy of such Harry predecessors as Ralph Richardson, Laurence Olivier, Richard Burton, and Timothy Dalton. Interestingly, everyone auditioning for the play read the same lines from two characters, not knowing which role they would get; after the show, Williams admitted that she was shocked when O’Hara told her that she was going to be the king. But as thrilling as it is for the Shiva Theater audience to see a strong black woman with a nose ring playing Henry V, it is almost impossible to imagine how empowering it must have been to women in prison and homeless shelters and underprivileged children who have never experienced Shakespeare before.

Zenzi Williams gives a towering performance as Henry V in Mobile Unit production at the Public (photo by Joan Marcus)

The French monarchy is played almost exclusively for laughs by the talented cast, with very silly buffoonery by Joe Tapper as the goofy king, Cohen as the twee Dauphin, and Carolyn Kettig as Princess Katharine, who brings down the house when Alice (Kim Wong) teaches her the English names of various body parts. Mobile Unit veteran David Ryan Smith is superb as both the Duke of Exeter and the Governor of Harfleur, Cohen is riotous as a slow-moving French ambassador, Ariel Shafir is solid as the Earl of Westmoreland and a constable, and Patrice Johnson has a “Bye, Felicia” moment as the gruff Montjoy; Kettig, Leland Flower, and Wong portray the treasonous trio of the Earl of Cambridge, Lord Scroop, and Northumberland knight Thomas Grey. The play is stripped down to 105 minutes, with the lights on the whole time to provide intimacy between the cast and the audience; the characters regularly involve the crowd, pointing at specific people, asking rhetorical questions, and even giving one woman a key prop to hold. (Be sure to get to the theater early, when the actors stroll about, ready to talk to you about whatever you want.) Everyone is dressed in black; red or blue sashes, gloves, and/or hats identify them as either British or French. (The two tennis balls offered to Henry are also blue, innuendo intended.) In addition, there are several moments of stylized, almost avant-garde movement (including the Battle of Agincourt scene) set to original music by Elisheba Ittoop. Even with all the low comedy, dance, and audience involvement, O’Hara (Bootycandy, In the Continuum) hits on the key elements and themes of the play — power, war, patriotism, leadership — while turning another one, masculinity, inside out and upside down by casting the amazing Williams in the title role.