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The New Jewish Theatre

Brooklyn Boy - The Vital Voice

STAGE VOICE/REVIEW: "Brooklyn Boy" @ The New Jewish Theatre

BY: ANDREA BRAUN, THEATRE ARTS CORRESPONDENT

There are so many things right with Brooklyn Boy that the "wrongs" can either be rationalized or (nearly) forgiven. Donald Margulies has given us a good play, but not a great one, and any negative comments I have are directed toward the playwright’s choices, not the production itself which is close to impeccable.

So, there is much praise to be leavened with a few faint damns. First, this is the best work I’ve seen Jason Cannon do. Ever. His Eric Weiss carries the show, and Cannon seems in control every single second, whether he is sparring with his dying (and dead) father, struggling not to lose his marriage, unintentionally talking down to an old friend, uncomfortably interacting with a very young woman in a hotel room, or taking a production meeting for his new best-selling novel, a roman a clef, titled Brooklyn Boy. This is his third book, but the first one that is more than just a critical success. He has a book tour! He has a movie deal! He is finally famous! Now what?

Bobby Miller’s direction is gentle, almost loving. He seems to know these people and care for them, especially Eric. He did double duty as sound designer and the primarily Paul Simon tunes with a bit of Sedaka and Sinatra tossed in at appropriate points punctuate each scene and speak to the events and moods therein. It’s masterful work.

But we know these people too, and in creating them, Margulies veers toward stereotype. Eric’s irascible father, Manny, is given funny/crabby life by Peter Mayer. He reminded me of my mother. Nina, Eric’s estranged wife (Sarah Cannon) is jealous of his success and feels like a failure both as an artist and a woman. Yep. Got friends like that. R. Travis Estes is fine as Eric’s boyhood friend who made his life in the old neighborhood, in his family’s house even. It happens.

Kate Frisina is effective in a brief turn as a hard-driving Hollywood producer and Paris McCarthy as Alison is cute as the groupie Eric brings to his hotel after a reading, but they are mainly one-dimensional. McCarthy is touching when Alison explains why she came back to Eric’s room. She also makes him question what he does as she dismisses fiction as a dying art. Frisina is at her best when she can show off her comic chops, which she does here.

Surprisingly, the most heartfelt portrayal next to Cannon’s is Justin Ivan Brown’s flavor-of-the-month movie star, Tyler Shaw, slated to star in the film adaptation of Brooklyn Boy, once it’s cut and cut some more, and oh yes, made less "Jewish." Brown isn’t on stage long, but he is impressive and has possibly the best line in the whole piece: "I always find my characters through my hair." This does turn out to be true as he turns, slicks down his "There’s Something About Mary" ‘do, and becomes the "Brooklyn Boy" as he performs a scene with Eric reading the words he made (or remembered?) from his father. This is also Cannon’s finest moment.

On the other hand, these people are rendered as Eric sees them, just as what is in the novel is his version of events from his life, which he continues to insist are fictionalized, and ironically wonders why everyone has this obsession with "truth." (This is a bit disingenuous of him, by the way.) So, if the others aren’t fully formed, that makes a kind of sense. They are constructed from his thoughts. If we think of them that way, they don’t need an inner life because, no matter how astute an observer one is, as a writer must be, another person can never be wholly known. So at the point where Eric has an epiphany about his father, at first it breaks him, then it shows him the path to redemption. Despite how much about the characterizations I can justify, however, I still find the very last part of the play problematic.

The set seems awkward when seen empty, but it works (credit Scott C. Neale for design, Maureen Hanratty for lights, and Miller for "choreography"). The theatre is a rectangle, and seven discrete playing spaces are carved out of the middle through which Eric passes during his journey from a hospital room and coffee shop to his wife’s apartment, an L.A. hotel, the producer’s office, and finally the place he grew up. Each is defined by a specific overhead light fixture, and the hospital room even has the requisite wall-mounted television. During Eric’s visit to Manny, the old film A Double Life is playing. Shelley Winters is on the screen in the movie, as well as in the dialog of the play. And, of course, "doubling" is central to what’s going on with Eric right now. It’s a great touch and demonstrates the attention to detail shown throughout.

Eric’s year of living famously has been empty in many ways. In his father’s house with "It Was a Very Good Year" on the old Hi Fi, he begins to realize that, while much was lost, much remains. Eric shares his name with the illusionist Houdini and this has always been a matter of pride. Miller writes in the Director’s Notes: "The escape artist amazes everyone. . . except himself." In the end, the contemporary Eric Weiss’ smoke and mirrors no longer obscure the self-knowledge of the Brooklyn man who breaks his chains that held him under in the past and rises back to the surface of his life.