‘POTUS’: Vanessa Williams & Julie White. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

POTUS: OR, BEHIND EVERY GREAT DUMBASS ARE SEVEN WOMEN TRYING TO KEEP HIM ALIVE
Written by Selina Fillinger
Directed by Susan Stroman
Through August 14, 2022
Shubert Theatre
225 West 44th Street
(212-239-6200), https://potusbway.com

By David NouNou

Did you ever wish you could go to the theatre to see a ludicrous farce that will leave you at times laughing hysterically? No hidden messages here, no agendas, a minimal plot that is so absurd that you don’t care; you just want to laugh because the times we live in are so stressful. Such a play exists. It’s called POTUS: Or, Behind Every Great Dumbass Are Seven Women Trying to Keep Him Alive.

It is difficult to discuss the plot because it is so convoluted. You have to go see it for yourself to make sense of it. No need to tell you any more than what the title of the show states. Now, there’s no particular president or first lady in this show. Loosely based on our recent American history, the characters are really amalgams and composites of presidents and first ladies and West Wing staff. Playwright Selina Fillinger cleverly lets you decide for yourself who you want them to be, and that makes the show all the more enjoyable.

As you know, no president can run the country by himself; it’s the women behind the scenes that keep him alive. In this instance there are seven women working very hard to accomplish their mission. There is the president’s wife, Margaret (Vanessa Williams); Chief of Staff, Harriet (Julie White); Press Secretary, Jean (Suzy Nakamura); White House Correspondent, Chris (Lilli Cooper); the president’s out-there, outrageous sister, Bernadette (Lea Delaria); office assistant, Stephanie (Rachel Dratch). Of course, there is always a beautiful mistress, Dusty (Julianne Hough). These women really work very hard at their jobs and the fun of the play is how they interact with each other. By the end of Act I, you are exhausted from the machinations and laughter.

I will admit Act II kind of meanders and loses a bit of footing because how can you sustain an absurdist farce after your hand has been revealed? Act II plays more of a clean-up for the mess that was created in Act I. I’m not trying to be evasive, elusive or mysterious. In a farce the less you know, the surprise element becomes extremely funnier.

There’s not one but seven funny ladies up on the stage working their butts off to make us laugh. Also let me caution you that you will be hearing a lot of coarse language, so prepare your ears. This isn’t a show to get offended by—just go with it and enjoy it.

Vanessa Williams is still gorgeous; she has elevated her status from the quintessential real-life Miss America to the fictitious Mrs. America, and can still deliver dialogue with aplomb like she did for years on TV’s “Ugly Betty.” Julie White is the consummate pro,  and so good at what she does, she could be the next president. Julianne Hough is a real talent. Forget her stint on TV’s “Dancing with the Stars” because Ms. Hough is both a beauty and can truly act. Rachel Dratch of “Saturday Night Live” fame and Lea DeLaria— their characters are so over-the-top, they are hysterical, and in lesser hands they would be ridiculous. Lilli Cooper and Suzy Nakamura have the hardest parts, for they are the serious women, but they do manage to get their share of laughs. They are deftly directed by the ever-ingenious Susan Stroman. Kudos to all the ladies who make us laugh, and to Beowulf Boritt for the clever revolving set that represents the different rooms in the White House.

On another note to leave you with, in these days of alternate truths and facts and alternate universes, such an event might not be so improbable. As an alternative, it can’t be any worse than what we went through in the past few years with the previous administration. Sit back and enjoy an alternative reality, written and directed by women and acted by a very funny all-star ensemble of smart and sassy women.

Edited by Scott Harrah
Published May 2, 2022
Reviewed at April 30, 2022 press performance.

‘POTUS’: Vanessa Williams & Rachel Dratch. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

‘POUTS’: Julie White & Suzy Nakamura. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

‘POTUS’: Julianne Hough, Lea Delaria & Suzy Nakamura. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

‘POTUS’: The cast. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

‘POTUS’: Lilli Cooper. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

‘POTUS’: Rachel Dratch & Julie White. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

‘POTUS’: Lilli Cooper, Rachel Dratch & Vanessa Williams. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

‘POTUS’: Julie White. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

‘POTUS’: Suzy Nakamura. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

‘POTUS’: Vanessa Williams. Photo: Paul Kolnik.

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GARY: A SEQUEL TO TITUS ANDRONICUS
By Taylor Mac
Directed by George C. Wolfe
Through August 4, 2019
Booth Theatre
222 West 45th Street
212-239-6200, https://garyonbroadway.com/

By Scott Harrah

One doesn’t need to be familiar with Shakespeare’s grisly tragedy Titus Andronicus to appreciate Gary, billed as a “sequel” to the epic. The show has a stellar cast and an incredible set by Santo Loquasto, and there is enough lowbrow, slapstick humor here to make the first moments of the 95 minutes pass quickly even if one hasn’t seen the show on which it is based. However, Taylor Mac’s jet-black comedy falls flat on so many levels that, despite the initial laughs, we are left scratching our heads halfway through. Other than being a star vehicle for Nathan Lane, why is Gary even on Broadway?

Set in the year 400 during the fall of the Roman Empire, Gary: A Sequel to Titus Andronicus opens with Carol (Julie White), a midwife supposedly “on the verge of death.” Shortly after she appears onstage, a mysterious liquid shoots from her hand. Is it blood? Water? Vomit? Another gross body fluid? Go figure, but it is the first of a series of repeated sight gags throughout Gary that grow increasingly tiresome.

The set is a gruesome hodgepodge featuring dead bodies and various severed limbs and other human remains all piled up. The years of bloody Roman battles are supposedly over and Gary (Nathan Lane) is a servant/clown whose job is to clean up the mess. He speaks in a cockney accent and honks a horn whenever he makes endless unfunny jokes. Helping him clean is his boss and fellow cockney Janice (Kristine Nielsen). She shows him how to insert a tube into the dead bodies to pump out the contents of the intestines and how to bend the corpses to and fro in order to release trapped gas. Of course, this is an excuse for excessive fart noises (one of the only genuinely funny moments in an otherwise dreadful evening). Gary is also hot for the corpses (he masturbates one) and in another scene, robotic soldiers, staged with “movement” created by Bill Irwin, sport metallic armor and firm erections (don’t ask). The show has fittingly creepy original music by Danny Elfman.

Gary has little to do with Titus Andronicus. Some may argue it’s a profane burlesque of the grotesque, with shades of vaudeville (hence Gary’s honking horn). Gary and Janice mostly banter and babble about power and what they would do if they ruled the world. Are they simply cleaning up the mess made from people in authority? Who knows, but one thing is certain: Taylor Mac’s narrative is dull, puerile and fails to make any real comedy out of tragedy. Like Titus Andronicus, much of Gary is written in iambic pentameter, but this is all the more confusing to anyone unfamiliar with Shakespeare’s tragedy.

Perhaps Taylor Mac is trying to make a statement about the current mess in Washington, who should clean it up and the parallels to the Rome of Titus. If so, he misses the mark. Mr. Mac has taken three minor characters from Titus Andronicus—Gary, the clown, Janice, the maid and Carol, the midwife—and attempted to create a farcical sequel to Shakespeare’s play.

 Gary is haphazardly directed by George C. Wolfe. Mr. Lane, who was absolutely brilliant last year as Roy Cohn in the Angels in America revival, is a huge disappointment as Gary. Here, Mr. Lane mostly hams it up for laughs, and he can only do so much with the paper-thin material.  Kristine Nielsen gives a far more convincing performance as Janice. Ms. Nielsen’s Janice is full of energy and she delivers dialogue with razor-sharp wit and timing. Tony Award winner Julie White has lots of spunk as midwife Carol, but her talents are mostly wasted.

With Gary, Taylor Mac attempts to mimic the absurdist sensibility of Samuel Beckett and Eugene Ionesco. However, the jokes and visual gags here seem more like “gross-out” stuff from early John Waters films, but Mr. Waters’ shameless antics were at least funny.

Edited by Scott Harrah
Published April 21, 2019

‘GARY: A SEQUEL TO TITUS ANDRONICUS:’ Nathan Lane. Photo: Julieta Cervantes

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‘SYLVIA’: Annaleigh Ashford & Matthew Broderick. Photo: Joan Marcus

SYLVIA
By A. R. Gurney
Directed by Daniel Sullivan
Cort Theatre
138 West 48th Street
212-239-6200, www.sylviabroadway.com

By David NouNou

Sylvia may have seemed cute as presented by Manhattan Theatre Club back in 1995 in the small and intimate Center Stage One, but in today’s world in which social media dominates (i.e., Facebook, Instagram and Pinterest to name a few, plus “dog blogs”), people post everything about their dogs from “stupid pet tricks” on YouTube and Vine videos on Instagram to dogs in Halloween costumes, among a myriad of other online pet antics. Sylvia’s paper-thin plot on a big Broadway stage has shrunk to a wisp of an idea even if you’re a fan of canine humor (and this is coming from a reviewer who is a dog lover and the owner of a golden retriever named Bagels).

The premise is simple. One day Greg (Matthew Broderick), while on a nature walk in Central Park, comes across Sylvia (Annaleigh Ashford), a dog that talks (in dog language, I assume), but is interpreted in English to enable Greg and the audience to know that they are communicating with each other. Greg is going through a mid-life crisis and Sylvia is his newfound love, bordering on mistress. He brings her home and his wife Kate (Julie White) is not happy with this arrangement. Their children are off to college, their marriage is getting routine, Greg skips work only to spend more time with Sylvia, and things get creepier and creepier. Oh, did I mention that Sylvia can be extremely foul-mouthed, gets horny at times, and loves to smell people’s crotches? This is the nature of this comedy.

I wish I could tell you more, but there really isn’t much more to say other than the constant walks to the park with Sylvia during which Greg meets a fellow dog owner, Tom (Robert Sella,) who explains to Greg the facts of life and the special bond between men and their dogs. Kate in turn runs into a friend, Phyllis (also played by Robert Sella in drag). Both Kate and Greg go to a therapist, the androgynous, Leslie (Robert Sella again); for Leslie can be either a man’s or a woman’s name, so Leslie allows the patient to pick which gender they want to speak to. Somewhere in that mix is a showdown between Kate and Sylvia.

The cast consists of formidable names. Starting with Annaleigh Ashford, who has been making quite a sensation on Broadway in the last few years; getting a Tony nomination for Kinky Boots a couple of years ago and winning one this year for You Can’t Take It With You, is delightful as usual but what with the aforementioned social media making it harder and harder these days to appreciate a feisty talking dog on stage, all is not kibbles and bits.

Julie White, who always brings such pathos to the characters she portrays, whether in her Tony-winning role in The Little Dog Laughed or in her Tony-nominated role earlier this year in Airline Highway, does her best considering the material she’s given. This woman can do everything that involves comedy or drama, but even she seems to flounder as the exasperated but valiant wife in dealing with Sylvia.

The evening’s most delightful performance is provided by Robert Sella as the geeky Tom, the haughty Phyllis and the androgynous Leslie. Mr. Sella gives us three distinct characters and three desperately needed gems.

Oy, and now to the hardest. Matthew Broderick was such an incredible talent when I first saw him in Torch Song Trilogy, followed by Brighton Beach Memoirs (for which he won his first Tony Award as Eugene Jerome). By the time he did Eugene again in Biloxi Blues, a pattern was emerging: the disengaged youth. Call it a curse or a blessing; Mr. Broderick hasn’t seemed to age a day in 32 years. At 53, he still has that boyish face, but his performances have turned from disengaged to laconic to downright somnambulant. Ever since he played Leo Bloom in 2001 in The Producers, he has been playing the same character over and over again: Last year in It’s Only a Play, three years ago in Nice Work If You Can Get It, plus The Philanthropist and The Starry Messenger, just to name a few.

Considering Sylvia’s wispy and dated plot, Mathew Broderick’s low-energy performance, and Daniel Sullivan’s flimsy direction, there is hardly any reason to sit up, pant or roll over with delight

Edited by Scott Harrah
Published October 30, 2015
Reviewed at press performance on October 29, 2015

‘SYLVIA’: Annaleigh Ashford. Photo: Joan Marcus

‘SYLVIA’: Julie White & Matthew Broderick. Photo: Joan Marcus

‘SYLVIA’: Julie White. Photo: Joan Marcus

‘SYLVIA’: Matthew Broderick & Annaleigh Ashford. Photo: Joan Marcus

‘SYLVIA’: Robert Sella & Matthew Broderick. Photo: Joan Marcus

‘SYLVIA’: Matthew Broderick & Annaleigh Ashford. Photo: Joan Marcus

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EXQUISITE ENSEMBLE: The outstanding Julie White & Carolyn Braver, with (background) Scott Jaeck in ‘Airline Highway.’ Photo: Joan Marcus

AIRLINE HIGHWAY
By Lisa D’Amour
Directed by Joe Mantello
Samuel J. Friedman Theatre
261 West 47th Street
(212-239-6280), www.AirlineHighwayBroadway.com

By Scott Harrah

Take every misfit plagued with misfortune from such Tennessee Williams plays as Vieux Carré, set the scene in modern-day, post-Katrina New Orleans and you have Lisa D’Amour’s innovative, beautifully acted but ultimately contrived Airline Highway, which recently opened on Broadway after a successful run by Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theatre Company. This drama full of colorful, down-on-their-luck characters has a lot going for it, but the problem is we have seen variations of these Big Easy personalities and their sad lives before.

Set in the parking lot of the seedy Hummingbird Motel, on Airline Highway in New Orleans (hence the show’s title), the story centers on a group of people gathering for a funeral for burlesque club grande dame Miss Ruby (Judith Roberts). Miss Ruby is gravely ill but isn’t dead yet, and her friends want to throw her a high-spirited funeral party/wake before she passes.

Nearly all the characters are stereotypes, but are exquisitely acted regardless. The standout is Broadway veteran Julie White as Tanya, an aging prostitute who lives in the rundown motel (along with many others). Tanya is the quintessential “hooker with a heart of gold,” and Ms. White portrays her with a raw sincerity that makes the character truly heartbreaking.

Equally exemplary is K. Todd Freeman as Sissy Na Na, a spunky African-American drag queen who is wise and lovable. Included in the ensemble are Krista (Caroline Neff), a stripper; Wayne (Scott Jaeck), the motel manager; Bait Boy (Joe Tippett), a former New Orleans resident who has returned from Atlanta (where he’s shacked up with a rich sugar mama) to pay last respects to Miss Ruby; and Bait Boy’s girlfriend’s teenage daughter Zoe (Carolyn Braver), a high school student working on a sociology project on subcultures.

Act One moves along briskly, as characters prepare for Miss Ruby’s funeral later in the day and talk about their troubles. Scott Pask’s lifelike set—showing everything from trash strewn everywhere to glimpses into the motel rooms (complete with cartoons on TV sets and people in the shadows smoking, etc.), and a sign advertising rates as low as $34.99—captures the decay of the surroundings well. At times, several characters talk at once, so we see multiple conversations going on simultaneously. While this adds a remarkable sense of realism, it also becomes distracting to the audience, and that’s a problem in a play this unfocused.

By Act Two, things start out lively, with everyone sporting Mardi Gras beads and grooving to jazz music, but the show soon takes a predictable turn. Characters get drunk and high, eat junk food, and truths are revealed. The dreary tone becomes repetitious, but director Joe Mantello makes the most of things with the talented cast.

Like the Tennessee Williams plays playwright Lisa D’Amour emulates, Airline Highway has lots of florid, poetic dialogue, including a rambling, philosophical soliloquy by Miss Ruby herself (she doesn’t come onstage until well into Act Two). Unfortunately, the crisp dialogue and first-rate performances are not enough to make us overlook the overall feeling of dramatic déjà vu and the timeworn sentimentality of the play.

YOU GO, GIRL: K. Todd Freeman & company of ‘Airline Highway’. Photo: Joan Marcus

NEW ORLEANS MISFITS: Caroline Neff & company of ‘Airline Highway’. Photo: Joan Marcus

PARTY GIRLS: A scene from ‘Airline Highway.’ Photo: Joan Marcus

CATCHING UP WITH PEOPLE FROM THE PAST: (left to right) Caroline Neff, Joe Tippett & Carolyn Braver. Photo: Joan Marcus

GREAT ENSEMBLE: The cast of ‘Airline Highway.’ Photo: Joan Marcus

TANYA, THE PROSTITUTE & MOTEL MANAGER WAYNE: Julie White & Scott Jaeck. Photo: Joan Marcus

Edited by Scott Harrah
Published April 27, 2015
Reviewed at press performance on April 26, 2015

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