The House of Blue Leaves

The House of Blue Leaves, at Broadway's Walter Kerr Theatre
Gratuitous Violins rating: *** 1/2 out of ****

How fitting that Ben Stiller's character in the Broadway revival of The House of Blue Leaves is a zookeeper because this is one wild story: turbulent, messy, emotional - and hilarious.

The House of Blue Leaves takes place on Oct. 4, 1965, the day Pope Paul VI visited New York City. It was the first trip to the United States by a reigning pope and occurred at a time when the war in Vietnam was escalating.

This isn't an easy play to love and it may not be for everyone - some of the jokes are dated and some aspects of the plot might be considered in poor taste. But the 1960s are my favorite decade and I enjoyed every dark and quirky moment.

Stiller, more low-key here than in some of his movies, is sympathetic as Artie Shaugnessy, a would-be songwriter who dreams of leaving behind his drab life in Queens for fame and fortune in Hollywood. Scott Pask's terrific design for the Shaughnessy apartment - shabby and cluttered - hits just the right note.

Artie is egged on by his downstairs neighbor Bunny Flingus, a wacky and delightful Jennifer Jason Leigh, who wants to marry him and head for California. I can see why he's attracted to her: she's young and cute and eager and she feeds his ego.

Artie and Bunny pin their hopes for success on a leg up from Artie's childhood friend Billy Einhorn, played by Thomas Sadoski, who's become a hotshot director. A glamorous Alison Pill plays Corrinna, Billy's movie-star fiancee.

The only problem is Artie has a wife - the schizophrenic Bananas, played by one of my favorite actresses, Edie Falco. I love her from The Sopranos and Nurse Jackie and it was a joy to see her onstage - so expressive as a sad, bewildered woman who knows her husband wants to commit her to a mental institution.

I know none of this sounds especially funny but it is. I laughed - a lot. Playwright John Guare walks that fine line between comedy and tragedy brilliantly.

What he does is twofold: he explores Americans' obsession with celebrity and also looks at how our dreams for the future can fade into a harsh reality. Sometimes it's absurd but a lot of it rang true to life for me.

Artie's hapless son Ronnie, played by Christoper Abbott, is a GI headed for Southeast Asia who yearns for a moment in the spotlight. A trio of very funny nuns - Mary Beth Hurt, Halley Feiffer and Susan Bennett - end up in Artie's house watching the pope on TV.

Bunny is just as excited at the prospect of catching a glimpse of the papal motorcade as she is at meeting a movie star. (At one point she sports a giant "I Love Paul" button left over from The Beatles' first visit to America.)

Director David Cromer, whose work I admired in Our Town and Brighton Beach Memoirs, handles the comical, slapstick, scenes so well. The first act especially moved along briskly.

But Cromer understands that often, humor masks other emotions. He slows down to give the characters time to tell their stories. Ronnie and Bananas are especially poignant. They reminded me of those moments in life when you don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Stiller's character doesn't get the big laughs in this agitated household. It's a nuanced performance that reminded me of the quote from Thoreau: Most men lead lives of quiet desperation.

Coincidentally, Stiller portrayed Ronnie in the original 1986 Broadway production of The House of Blue Leaves. His mother, Anne Meara, was Bunny in the off-Broadway cast when the play premiered in 1971.

The hardest thing for a writer is to know when to stop and Guare ends The House of Blue Leaves so well. It was a startling moment but afterward, I understood it perfectly.

A Free Man of Color

A Free Man of Color, at Lincoln Center's Vivian Beaumont Theatre
Gratuitous Violins rating: **1/2 out of ****

At the end of Act I, A Free Man of Color struck me as sprawling, bawdy and a bit confusing. Too many characters, too much going on in too many places.

But in Act II, John Guare's play came together in way that made sense of everything I'd seen before. It was a compelling - even brilliant - finish. And the very last line will stay with me for a long time.

Jeffrey Wright is dazzling as Jacques Cornet, a playwright and a free man of color living in New Orleans.

Born to a slave mother, he purchased his freedom and became the heir of his wealthy white father. Cornet dresses like a dandy, seduces other men's wives at will and generally lives life to the fullest in a freewheeling city where race seemingly doesn't matter.

But between 1801 and 1806, the period in which A Free Man of Color takes place, New Orleans is in transition. Founded in 1718 by the French, the city was ceded to Spain in 1763, reverted back to France in 1801 and was sold to the United States in 1803 in the Louisiana Purchase.

Guare uses a broad canvas and historical figures such as Napoleon, Thomas Jefferson and Touissant Loverture to tell the story. He moves from New Orleans to Washington, D.C., France, Spain, the newly independent nation of Haiti and the vast unknown territory west of the Mississippi.

It's a lot to keep track of and I'll admit I sometimes felt a little lost in the sheer amount of history and number of characters and locations. (There are more than 30 people in the cast.) And while I wasn't offended by the bawdy humor, I just didn't find it all that funny a lot of the time.

But I have to give director George C. Wolfe credit for the play holding together as well as it does. It was always interesting to watch and I was never bored.

Mos (formerly Mos Def) was excellent as Cornet's slave, Murmur, and as Toussaint Louverture, leader of the slave revolt in the French colony of Saint-Domingue. Louverture makes an emotional plea to the United States, as one young democracy to another, to help his newly independent nation of Haiti.

As Meriwether Lewis, the secretary to John McMartin's President Thomas Jefferson, I found Paul Dano's youthful eagerness and desire for adventure so appealing. He's chafing to get out of Washington and explore the new territory that the United States has acquired.

And it was pretty exciting to see Joseph Marcell tackle a dramatic role as the dignified Dr. Toubib, Cornet's physician who acts as a narrator. Of course I know him as Geoffrey, the proper British butler on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

The sets by David Rockwell and costumes from Ann Hould-Ward were lavish. And some of the imagery was stunning, including a boatload of slaves being deported from Haiti, Mardi Gras revelers and the vast whiteness that represented the unexplored parts of the North American continent.

The play is a character study and a snapshot of New Orleans at a particular time in history. But I think most importantly, Guare is making a powerful statement about how our lofty ideals as a nation sometimes conflict with our actions.

Ironically, Cornet fears the return of the French, with their code noir that severely restricts the lives of black people, and feels a sense of relief with the arrival of the United States. After all, doesn't the Declaration of Independence say that all men are created equal?

As it turns out, Cornet will have much to fear from the Americans. (Jefferson helpfully informs him that "all men are created equal" isn't in the Constitution.)

What happens shows how tenuous life for a black man could be, even for a supposedly free man of color. And Wright is especially powerful as Cornet's fortune changes.

I wouldn't recommend A Free Man of Color to every theatergoer. But if you're interested in the time period or the history of New Orleans or the history of race in America, or if you just want to see an ambitious new American play, I think this is one you'll be talking about afterward.