Tag Archives: Darko Tresnjak

THIS AIN’T NO DISCO

A talented cast goes back to the glamour days of Studio 54 in This Ain’t No Disco (photo by Ben Arons)

Atlantic Theater Company
Linda Gross Theater
336 West 20th St. between Eighth & Ninth Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through December 24, $56.50-$111.50
866-811-4111
atlantictheater.org

Getting chosen to go past the velvet ropes and enter the hallowed halls of Studio 54 in the 1970s was like being part of the Rapture. “For what you are about to receive / may you be truly grateful / Who wants to go to heaven with me tonight,” Steve Rubell (Theo Stockman) declares in the world premiere musical This Ain’t No Disco, which opened tonight at the Atlantic. A group of desperate supplicants chant back at Rubell, “Let us in — let us sin.” But if theatergoers start lining up to get inside the Linda Gross Theater to see the new musical, it will be because of the reputation of the glitzy nightspot and the involvement of Stephen Trask, not because of the show itself, which turns out to be as superficial and simulated as the club itself. Trask, the creator, composer, and lyricist for the Obie- and Tony-winning Hedwig and the Angry Inch, cowrote the music and lyrics of Disco with Angry Inch drummer Peter Yanowitz (the Wallflowers, Natalie Merchant) and the book with Yanowitz and Rick Elice (Jersey Boys, The Addams Family); the two-and-a-half-hour show has its share of exhilarating moments, but the behind-the-scenes drama that drives the narrative is tepid and cold.

Sammy (Samantha Marie Ware) and Chad (Peter LaPrade) hope to make their dreams come true in This Ain’t No Disco at the Atlantic (photo by Ben Arons)

While a flamboyantly gay Rubell snorts coke, makes piles of money, and has a disagreement about a hat with the blond-haired, sunglass-wearing Artist (Will Connolly) — it’s not clear why the musical identifies Rubell by name but not Andy Warhol — a bunch of dreamers hope for stardom of various kinds, including experimental artist duo Landa (Lulu Fall) and Meesh (Krystina Alabado), who work the coat check; Forest Hills punk and drug-addicted single mother Sammy (Samantha Marie Ware), an alternate version of Jean-Michel Basquiat; annoying publicist Binky (Chilina Kennedy), looking for her own big break; District Attorney Lamont Brown (Eddie Cooper); and Chad (Peter LaPrade), a graffiti artist who has been turning tricks to survive in the city. As references are made to such club stalwarts as Salvador Dalí, Liza Minnelli, Elton John, Jerry Hall, Truman Capote, Jackie Kennedy Onassis, Mikhail Baryshnikov, Bianca Jagger, and Richard Gere, Rubell finds himself in quite a mess and the individual stories of the dreamers devolve into stereotypical pablum.

This Ain’t No Disco takes audience inside the hallowed halls of legendary New York City nightclub (photo by Ben Arons)

Early on, Chad sings, “Here the fun never ends / Yeah, I’m having fun,” and there is fun to be had at This Ain’t No Disco, which takes its name from the 1979 Talking Heads song “Life During Wartime.” (“This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco / this ain’t no fooling around / This ain’t no Mudd Club, or CBGB / I ain’t got time for that now.”) Jason Sherwood’s mobile, two-level scaffold set is dynamite, with splashy lighting by Ben Stanton, flashy costumes by Sarah Laux (featuring a lot of bare-chested men in barely there bottoms), projections of a naughty New York on monitors attached to the ceiling and elsewhere, and choreography with plenty of dazzle by Camille A. Brown. But the score is all over the place, too often straying from the kind of music that was heard inside Studio 54 and the Mudd Club in that era and lacking the awesome verve of Hedwig. Sammy is supposed to be punk and Meesh and Landa cutting-edge, but their songs don’t fit who they are and what they want to be. Tony- and Obie-winning director Darko Tresnjak (A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder, The Killer) can’t find the right balance between the glamour of the Studio 54 lifestyle and the more mundane story of the characters, resulting in a dynamic work that is far more style than substance. No doubt former 1970s club kids will get a kick out of many of the inside jokes while reliving past glory, but the rest of us are likely to not regret for one moment that we never got behind those velvet ropes.

ANASTASIA

A young woman (Christy Altomare) searches for her true identity in ANASTASIA (photo by Matthew Murphy)

Broadhurst Theatre
235 West 44th St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through January 7, $69-$189
www.anastasiabroadway.com

A kind of cult — er, rather large fan base — has grown up around Anastasia, Don Bluth’s 1997 animated movie about the fall of the Romanovs in Russia and the possible survival of one of the tsar’s daughters. When I went to see the new musical version, which opened last night at the Broadhurst, the theater was packed with big groups of young girls who were giddy with delight at the prospect of seeing their beloved movie brought to life on the stage; they then proceeded to shriek in unison at their favorite romantic scenes, making the experience feel like The Ed Sullivan Show when the Beatles appeared. The many twentysomething women in the audience were perhaps less giddy than wistful and teary-eyed as they watched the theatricalization of a film that has meant so much to them since they first saw the animated movie back in the late 1990s, when they were the same age as the shrieking girls are now. Thus, the show appears to have a built-in, review-proof audience. They oohed and aahed during the disappointing first act, set in St. Petersburg in 1906-7, 1917, and 1927, which catered to the younger fans at the expense of the story, but the second act, set in 1927 Paris, was enchanting, taking a far more adult approach, a treat for young and old alike.

Gleb Vaganov (Ramin Karimloo) befriends a poor street sweeper (Christy Altomare) in musical version of classic legend (photo by Matthew Murphy)

Anastasia features a book by four-time Tony winner Terrence McNally (Kiss of the Spider Woman, Love! Valour! Compassion!) and music and lyrics by Tony winners Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens, the same trio that turned E. L. Doctorow’s Ragtime into a hit musical in 1998; Flaherty and Ahrens wrote the score for the animated film, and six of those songs, including the Oscar-nominated “Journey to the Past,” are in the Broadway show, along with sixteen new tunes. Neither of the Fox films was completely true to the real story of the Romanovs and Anastasia, and McNally has fiddled with the truth as well, but this is not historical fiction as much as romantic fantasy. The Grand Duchess Anastasia (first played by Nicole Scimeca, then Molly Rushing and Christy Altomare as she grows up) is one of four daughters of Tsar Nicholas II (Constantine Germanacos) and Tsarina Alexandra (Lauren Blackman), who live in luxury in the royal palace, shut off from the real world. Old Russia is coming to an end, but the only one who seems to realize that is the tsar’s mother, the Dowager Empress (Mary Beth Peil), who decides to spend her declining years in Paris. The seven-year-old Anastasia wants to go with her beloved grandmother, who gives her a special music box to remember her by until Anastasia can come visit her. Ten years later, the Romanovs are still awash in elegance and finery when they are attacked during the Bolshevik revolution, as the Communists take control of Russia.

Vlad (John Bolton), the Countess Lily (Caroline O’Connor), and others celebrate their home country at a Paris nightclub in ANASTASIA (photo by Matt Murphy)

Amid postrevolutionary poverty and destitution, rumors swirl that Anastasia might still be alive. Seeking a reward, Dmitry (Derek Klena) and Vlad (John Bolton) try to find a girl they can train to be an impostor, then present to the Dowager Empress. Also on the hunt for Anastasia is Czekist Gleb Vaganov (Ramin Karimloo), a rising star in the Communist Party who wants to make sure all of the Romanovs are dead. He meets and offers help to a street sweeper named Anya (Altomare), but she refuses. Dmitry and Vlad soon believe that Anya, suffering from amnesia, is the right girl for their plan. As they scheme to escape to Paris in 1927 and bring Anya to the Dowager Empress, little memories come back to Anya that hint that she might actually be the real Anastasia. In creating a new telling of the true story, McNally has replaced the evil, villainous Rasputin with the significantly more human, heartthrob-handsome Gleb, while also creating the energetic and fun-loving Countess Lily (Caroline O’Connor), the Dowager Empress’s lady-in-waiting and a potential love interest for Vlad. Choreographer Peggy Hickey offers numerous dances as the action moves from 1906 Russia to 1927 France, including a troika, a waltz, the Charleston, and even ballet, making excellent use of Linda Cho’s costumes, which range from spectacular ball gowns to peasant drab. Meanwhile, Aaron Rhyne’s projections, which often evoke travel, get more creative once the maps go away, enhancing Alexander Dodge’s cleverly functional set. Tony-winning director Darko Tresnjak (A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder, The Killer) can’t save the dreary sentimentality of the first act but really opens things up in the vastly more entertaining second act, which begins with “Paris Holds the Key (to Your Heart),” immediately letting us know that things are going to get better. All the while, the shrieking continues, culminating in a rafters-shaking noise at the finale. Spoiler alert: Ten years ago, the real Anastasia’s bones were found, with DNA evidence confirming that she died with the rest of her family in the Bolshevik attack. Of course, McNally, et al. opt for a different ending for the musical, and you’ll be very glad they did.

THE KILLER

Michael Shannon stars as Eugène Ionesco everyman Berenger in TNA production of THE KILLER (photo by Gerry Goodstein)

Theatre for a New Audience, Polonsky Shakespeare Center
262 Ashland Pl. between Lafayette Ave. & Fulton St.
Tuesday – Sunday through June 29, $60-$100
866-811-4111
www.tfana.org

Michael Feingold’s new translation of Eugène Ionesco’s 1958 absurdist black comedy, The Killer, is a manic-depressive journey into such extremes as heaven and hell, life and death, and freedom and Fascism. Stage, screen, and television veteran Michael Shannon, who first starred as Ionesco everyman Berenger in a Chicago revival sixteen years ago, suggested doing a new production with Theatre for a New Audience, and it was a good call, a triumph from start to finish. As the three-hour, three-act play opens, Berenger, a schlumpy, shaggy-haired man in a long coat, scarf, and hat (and who would go on to appear in Ionesco’s A Stroll in the Air, Exit the King, and Rhinoceros), is in awe of a Garden of Eden-like paradise the Architect (Robert Stanton) is showing him. “I just knew that in the middle of our gloomy city, right in among all our sad, dark neighborhoods full of mud and dirt, I would find this bright, beautiful area, not rich or poor, with these sunny streets, these avenues streaming with light — this radiant city that you’ve built inside our city,” Berenger says, approaching the edges of the empty stage and reaching out as if the audience were colorful flowers there for the touching. While the Architect is pleased with Berenger’s reaction, he is also quick to note that he is merely a government official doing his job. “It’s all prearranged, all intentional,” the Architect explains. “Nothing can be left to chance.” But soon Berenger is lamenting another side of this heavenly area, which also features a hellish lagoon through a trapdoor where corpses are gathering, the handiwork of a mysterious murderer.

Michael Shannon and BOARDWALK EMPIRE colleague Paul Sparks attempt to get to the bottom of things in existential black comedy (photo by Gerry Goodstein)

The second act takes place in and around Berenger’s room, in a house run by a sarcastic concierge (Kristine Nielsen). “Don’t talk to me about philosophy,” she says. “I once got it into my head to take the advice of the Stoics, and look at everything in perspective. They didn’t help me one bit, not even Marcus Aurelius. In the long run he was no use to anybody, no better or worse than you or me. We’ve all got to find our own way out. That is, if there was one, but there ain’t.” Soon Berenger is met by his friend Edward (Shannon’s Boardwalk Empire colleague Paul Sparks), a creepy, ghostly man dressed all in black, clutching a briefcase in a dastardly manner. They discuss the radiant city, the killer on the loose, negligence, and indifference before deciding to take action. And in the third act, candidate Ma Piper (Nielsen) is stumping for votes, promising “free soup for everybody” and to “de-alienate humanity,” while Edward and Berenger search for the former’s missing briefcase until the police show up and chaos ensues, concluding with an impossibly long monologue delivered by Berenger, looking death in the face.

Kristine Nielsen gets a lift in second of two roles in THE KILLER (photo by Gerry Goodstein)

Shannon, who has been nominated for an Oscar for Revolutionary Road, won two Screen Actors Guild ensemble awards for his portrayal of Nelson Van Alden on Boardwalk Empire, and has been nominated for Lucille Lortel Awards for Bug and Mistakes Were Made, is mesmerizing as Berenger, ranging from ecstatic highs to deep lows as he contemplates joy and sadness, love and loss, and a complicated future. Director Darko Tresnjak, who just won a Tony for A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder, keeps things peculiar all the way, mixing in bits of German Expressionism, film noir, and Italian neo-Realism on Suttirat Larlarb’s sparse set (which holds several little surprises) as Berenger continues his search for answers that are not easily forthcoming. Nielsen (Vania and Sonya and Masha and Spike) moves eagerly from frumpy concierge to goose-loving political candidate, while Sparks is plenty strange as the plenty strange Edward. At its center, The Killer is a captivating, perplexing allegory structured from the idea of original sin that follows humanity’s fall from grace. It’s also the third triumph in a row (after Julie Taymor’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Michael Pennington starring in King Lear) for Theatre for a New Audience in its intimate new home, the shining Polonsky Shakespeare Center in Brooklyn, which has quickly fit right in as part of the growing Fort Greene Garden of Eden that also includes BAM, BRIC, and the Mark Morris Dance Center.

A GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE TO LOVE AND MURDER

One of the D’Ysquiths (Jefferson Mays) celebrates with his potential murderer (Bryce Pinkham) in vengeful musical comedy

Walter Kerr Theatre
219 West 48th St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Through September 7, $35-$137
www.agentlemansguidebroadway.com

Not even a ridiculously loud family sitting behind us, crunching on candy and talking throughout the first act, could dampen our thorough enjoyment of the wonderful new Broadway musical A Gentleman’s Guide to Love & Murder. The show follows the trials and travails of one Monty Navarro (Bryce Pinkham), who is in prison, writing his memoirs. The story then turns back to Monty’s mother’s funeral, where chatty Miss Shingle (Jane Carr) tells him that his mother was disowned by the noble D’Ysquith family when she married a man her relatives disapproved of. When Monty discovers that he is eighth in the line of succession to become earl, those men and women in between him suddenly start dropping like flies, each one played with a hearty wink and a nod by Jefferson Mays (I Am My Own Wife, Blood and Gifts) in ever-more-clever set-ups, from various lords and ladies to a dentally challenged reverend. Meanwhile, Monty can’t let go of the woman he adores, the spectacularly beautiful, self-centered, and manipulative Sibella Hallward (Lisa O’Hare), who is engaged to marry the never-seen Lionel Holland. Social mores of Edwardian England come tumbling down as Monty nears his vengeful goal. (If any of this sounds familiar, it’s because Gentleman’s Guide is based on Roy Horniman’s 1907 novel, Israel Rank: The Autobiography of a Criminal, the inspiration for Robert Hamer’s classic 1949 British black comedy, Kind Hearts and Coronets, in which Alec Guinness plays eight members of the D’Ascoyne family.)

Sibella (Lisa O’Hare) and Monty (Bryce Pinkham) reevaluate their relationship in A GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE TO LOVE & MURDER

Robert L. Freedman (books and lyrics) and Steven Lutvak (music and lyrics), with director Darko Tresnjak and scenic designer Alexander Dodge, have created a lovely little tale, part The Mystery of Edwin Drood, part Gilbert & Sullivan operetta, with some Monty Python flourishes added for good measure. Pinkham (Ghost, Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson) has devilish fun as Navarro, thinking up new ways to do away with his potential victims, while Mays — well, it’s often hard to figure out just how he changes from character to character so quickly, not only in wardrobe but in accent and style, a mind-boggling tour de force. Most of the action takes place on a stage within the stage, with red curtains and faces that occasionally come alive. Intentionally cheesy backdrops and playful video projection add to the fun of such numbers as “You’re a D’Ysquith,” “Poison in My Pocket,” and “The Last One You’d Expect,” while riotous slapstick propels a marvelous scene in which Monty is with Sibella but Phoebe D’Ysquith (Lauren Worsham) unexpectedly arrives, her sights also set on Monty, who does his best trying to keep each woman from finding out about the other. A Gentleman’s Guide to Love & Murder is a delicious mélange of music and mayhem, with plot twists that hold surprises even for those who adore Kind Hearts and Coronets.