'The Skin of Our Teeth': A thorny revival

‘THE SKIN OF OUR TEETH’: (left to right) Julian Robertson, Roslyn Ruff & Paige Gilbert. Photo: Julieta Cervantes.

THE SKIN OF OUR TEETH
Written by Thornton Wilder
With additional material by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins
Directed by Lileana Blain-Cruz
Through May 29, 2022
Lincoln Center Theater at the Vivian Beaumont
150 West 65th Street
(800)331-0472, https://www.lct.org/

By Scott Harrah

Thornton Wilder’s 1942 Pulitzer Prize-winning play The Skin of Our Teeth was last revived on Broadway in 1955. It has not been produced in 67 years for numerous reasons. The epic is not nearly as accessible or universal as Our Town and is thorny and awkward in nature. The story is a three-act saga of the ultimate survival of humanity and the Androbus family, married for 5,000 years and living in Excelsior, New Jersey. The story takes us from the Ice Age to Atlantic City in the 1920s to the end of an unspecified war and is convoluted indeed. It touches on everything from the Bible to technology to natural disasters and the environment.

Branden Jacobs-Jenkins has updated the story with new material since this production features a multi-ethnic cast, with the help of director Lileana Blain-Cruz. For example, sassy maid Sabina (Gabby Beans)—in a role originated by the late Tallulah Bankhead in 1942—starts out the show by breaking the fourth wall and speaking directly to the audience, but she talks about how she’s been in several August Wilson plays.

In Act One, a composite of the early 20^th century, Mrs. Antrobus (Roslyn Ruff) is in her New Jersey home with her children, Gladys (Paige Gilbert) and Henry (Julian Robertson). It is August but the entire Northeast of the USA is contending with a wall of ice that is moving south from Canada. Mr. Antrobus (James Vincent Meredith) is the inventor of everything from the lever, the wheel, multiplication tables and the alphabet. Refugees start arriving at the Antrobus home, all wanting food. Some of the arriving refugees include Moses, the prophet Homer and Greek Muses. We also see one of the play’s highlights: Huge animated puppets of a dinosaur and a woolly mammoth that will remind many of the gorgeous horse puppets in a far superior Lincoln Center show a decade ago, War Horse.

Act Two takes place in 1920s Atlantic City, depicting a convention as well as a seaside carnival midway on the famous Boardwalk. Mr. Antrobus is being sworn in as president of “the Ancient and Honorable Order of Mammals, Subdivision Humans.” Sabina appears as a conniving beauty pageant queen, trying to steal Mr. Antrobus away from his wife and family. A gypsy fortune teller (Broadway veteran Priscilla Lopez) warns everyone about a storm about to hit the shoreline. Her prophecy comes true as a hurricane arrives, the story takes a biblical turn and family members start taking pairs of animals onto a large ship reminiscent of Noah’s Ark, indicating the world is ending.

Act Three is the play’s most confusing section. We are back at the Antrobus home in New Jersey, but everything has been decimated by an unspecified war. The two Antrobus women have survived by hiding in a cellar and Gladys now has a baby. George Antrobus has been away fighting the war. Henry returns as a general, having fought on the opposite side.

All three acts are introduced with a “News of the World” newsreel, a clever touch by projectionist Hannah Wasileski.

Perhaps Thornton Wilder’s themes are meant to show us the resilience of humans through natural and man-made disasters. However, what is presented here, with all the tweaks by director Lileana Blain-Cruz and playwright Branden Jacobs-Jenkins, is all ultimately a more confusing night of theater. While it was ambitious even attempting to update this monster of a play, the end result is a slog to sit through for most audiences. There are some occasionally funny moments and two noteworthy standouts. Newcomer Gabby Beans is a spunky delight as maid Sabina, and Priscilla Lopez shines as the fortune teller, with her lively performance. The dinosaur and woolly mammoth puppets steal the show in Act One, and Adam Rigg’s sets are consistently impressive, but this production of The Skin of Our Teeth is too long and lugubrious to be palatable in the 21^st century.

Edited by Scott Harrah
Published May 3, 2022
Reviewed at May 1, 2022 press performance.