Tynan's Anger

It's not surprising that, when The 39 Steps premiered on Broadway, some critics were outraged that a play lacking any focus on plot would be any sort of success. The outrage was less palpable when the play made it to Broadway, where it has become a smash success, outlasting every play from its season, including the more beloved farce of Boeing Boeing and the endless (and deservedly) awarded play August: Osage County. Two years later; it is easy to see why; what The 39 Steps lacked in drama or plot, it made up for in a remarkable display of stagecraft that is rarely seen today. It's perhaps the only non-musical that fully provides a bang for its buck to Broadway visitors more interested in spectacle and escapism, and in a unique twist of contemporary culture, it provides such entertainment in a way movies cannot.

Up until the last 10 years or so, there was simply nothing the theater could do to compete with movies for spectacle. No matter how much explosions, gunfire, loose women, or blood you had on stage, it was nothing compared to the Schwarzenegger movie playing a few blocks down from Broadway, let alone any town in America. Despite all the advances in special effects however, there is still a sizable portion of America that prefers organic effects to digital; no matter what CGI can accomplish in Avatar or Lord of the Rings, it will never replace the more natural sets of Star Wars or 2001. That portion of American audiences has been abandoned by Hollywood, and they're the types who have bankrolled The 39 Steps, guffaw by guffaw.

Between the endless supply of visual, verbal, and auditory gags, the occasional breaks for puppetry, the intentionally horrible use of accents, and references to just about every Hitchcock movie you can thing of, criticizing the script of The 39 Steps would be like criticizing the virtuosity of Bob Dylan's singing voice. The poetry is not in the words of this plays, but in the effects, the actors, the mannerisms, and the jokes (in other words all the things that made farce the go-to form of entertainment before pictures could move.)

The choice of The 39 Steps, a great Hitchcock movie (both in its U.K. and U.S. versions), but by no means among his best work, is rather appropriate. The 39 Steps was one of the earliest displays of the MacGuffin method of cinematic narrative Hitchcock pioneered: it doesn’t matter what the 39 Steps are, so long as it allows Hitchcock to advance his cinematic vision (The Maltese Falcon featured the most famous use of the MacGuffin). The same holds for Maria Aitken's staging, which features a constant barrage of theatrical devices old and new, including a brilliant display of stage tech that deservedly won Tonys for lighting and sound. At no point does The 39 Steps feel dated or self-righteous; it would seemed more like that had the play been a straight adaptation. The winks to the audience are occasional and only when necessary—most hilariously at the play's climax.

The 39 Steps is the only play I've seen, Broadway or not, where the director has gotten billing over the writer/adapter/conceiver. That's pretty much at the heart of the play's appeal. Its genius cannot be displayed in a script, but in a theater, using devices that have mostly been abandoned by non-musical theater. But The 39 Steps didn't just outlast August; it outlasted Grease and Xanadu. There's a fine line between old-school theatrical escapism and new wave, self-satisfied theatrical spectacle. The 39 Steps toes that line better than most anything that's been on Broadway in recent memory.

Labels: 39 Steps, adaptation, Broadway theatre, new york, Theatre

Harm’s Way is one of those plays that may get knocked as an excessively political play (or not political enough, by some standards). It may get knocked for the occasional clichéd line by playwright Shem Bitterman, or for being too long, or for being too unbelievable. I may have a hard time defending against any of those arguments, but I will refuse to budge in calling Harm’s Way a play of absolute vitality with a quick-witted intelligence, as close to Greek or Shakespearean tragedy as it is to current events.

Yes, some of the characters have archetypal qualities. But every one has a vitality and humanity that overcomes a lot of shortcomings. Deeply disturbed and sexually abused Bianca (Sarah Foret) may have simplistic dialogue, but it belies her inability to communicate on a human level. Stupid, ox-like private Nick (Ben Bowen), a confused, disturbed and frequently violent individual, is something of an existential hero.

And emasculated military prosecutor Major Jonathan Fredericks (Jack Stehlin), utterly defenseless against the circumstances of his life, is one of the most pathetic military officers you’ll ever see in a play. Fredericks’ values and commitment to the greater good—whatever that may be—are as strong as any good soldier's. By taking the muscle away from military might, Bitterman has shown military bravado for what is it: a thinly veiled farce which sounds stupid and absurd when uttered by a man without a gun in his hand.

The problem that keeps Harm’s Way from reaching the heights I fully believe it capable of achieving is a lackluster production from Circus Theatricals. I was surprised by just how uninspired the cast seemed to be, especially since their credentials far exceeded the average for off-off-Broadway. Also, Harm’s Way has multiple lines that border on cheesiness and cliché. With the right actors and direction, the power of the play’s deeper implications could overcome these problems. But the cast, helmed by director Steve Zuckerman, seems utterly lost about how to convey any of the play’s nuance, and looks like it is going through the motions. That’s bad in any play; in a play like Harm’s Way, which needs an enthusiastic cast to succeed, it’s a tragedy in its own right.

The major exception in terms of the cast was relative novice Sarah Foret (Bianca) who came up with a fantastic portrayal as the damaged, not-right-in-the-head army base brat. Foret is the only actor in the New York production with a consistent view of her character’s mindset. It would be easy to play a simple character simply, but Foret adds a level of maturity to Bianca’s damaged soul that gives the play a significant bump. The twist at the end of the first act, for instance, would seem contrived in a less capable actor’s hands. Foret shows just how much a strong actor can contribute to this play, and embarrasses the rest of the cast with her commitment.

As the tough war journalist Connie, Wendy Makkena gives perhaps the most human performance, but her role doesn’t gain enough traction for it to make a significant impact on the play overall. That could be a fault of the playwright, but it wouldn’t be as much of an issue if Stehlin’s performance wasn’t so maddeningly wooden, or if Josh Allen wasn’t so stupidly over the top as Nick’s war buddy Sammy. As the supervising Colonel, Eric Pierpoint delivers his lines flatly, as if we should already know them. That kind of performance is fine for a minor Shakespeare role, perhaps, but not for a role in a new play that is suppose to command authority.

Ultimately, Harm’s Way will not get the traction it deserves, and that’s largely because of a cast and crew that seems more disappointed in itself than committed to the task at hand. Bitterman will have to find a better group of actors to work with in the future, or else he will go criminally unnoticed.

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Harm's Way by Shem Bitterman; directed by Steve Zuckerman; sets and costumes by Kitty Rose; lighting by Derrick McDaniel; original music by Roger Bellon. Photos by Jeannine Stehlin

Starring Josh Allen (Sammy Havesford), Ben Bowen (Private Nick Granville), Sarah Foret (Bianca Fredericks), Eric Pierpont (Colonel Hank Davis), Wendy Makkena (Connie Durrell), and Jack Stehlin (Major Jonathan Fredericks).

Presented by Circus Theatricals at the 45th Street Theatre, 354 W. 45th St., NYC. Oct. 18-Nov. 8. Playing in repertory with "Man. Gov." Thu. and Sat., 8 p.m. (212) 352-3101 or www.theatermania.com.

This review was originally published on Blogcritics.

Labels: 2008-2009, harm's way, Jack Stehlin, new york, shem bitterman, theater review, Theatre, Wendy Makkena