War Horse

War Horse, at Broadway's Vivian Beaumont Theatre
Gratuitous Violins rating: ***1/2 out of ****

I've been looking forward to War Horse for about two years, ever since I saw a video of the original production from Britain's National Theatre, with its stunningly lifelike horse puppets.

In some ways, the show lived up to my expectations - the horses are amazing. The story, unfortunately, pulled up a bit lame. Still, as theatre War Horse gets high marks from me for sheer inventiveness.

The play is adapted from a children's novel by British author Michael Morpurgo. It takes place in an English village just before World War I and then moves to the battlefields of France as war breaks out.

The story is pretty straightforward. Teenage Albert Narracott, played by an earnest and appealing Seth Numrich, has a horse named Joey that he's raised from a foal. When the war begins, his alcoholic, wastrel father (Boris McGiver) sells Joey to an Army officer. A heartbroken Albert enlists to search for him.

Without any elaborate sets, War Horse manages to evoke a time that now is nearly a century in the past. I loved the lyrical folk music from Adrian Sutton and John Tams and the projection design by 59 Productions - drawings of the English and French countryside that looked like they were torn from a sketchpad.

I also thought War Horse was very effective in showing how World War I became a watershed in the sad history of human conflict. We know what the characters don't realize - that soldiers on horseback will be no match for the tanks and other weaponry of modern warfare.

Where I thought the story got bogged down was in Act II. Joey is captured by a German officer, played by Peter Hermann, who ends up befriending a young French girl and her mother. That part struck me as overly cloying. Morpurgo has said that he wanted wanted to show the suffering on all sides but I thought it pushed Albert off to the side for too long.

The stars of War Horse, though, are the horses, created by South Africa's Handspring Puppet Company. I'm so thrilled that Handspring's Adrian Kohler and Basil Jones, partners in business and in life, are getting a special Tony Award next month. Their work doesn't easily fit into any category and it's so deserving of recognition.

Each of the two main horses, Joey and Topthorn, requires two actors inside and a third who walks alongside to maneuver the head. Somehow the combination of wood and leather and metal comes together in a way that's truly magical. They seem alive.

(I have to give a shoutout to one of the puppeteers. Jude Sandy is a Brown/Trinity Rep MFA graduate who I saw in A Raisin in the Sun. He's the first Trinity Rep actor I've seen on Broadway. He's also a dancer and I can see where that training would be invaluable for the intricate equine choreography.)

I know some critics felt that War Horse was manipulative but I think all art is designed to manipulate our emotions in some way - you don't want to look at it and feel absolutely nothing. What would be the point? The question is, are you absorbed by the story. And I was.

I'll admit that I got a little teary at the ending but where I really felt emotional was the curtain call, when Joey and Topthorn, their manes flying, took one last magnificent gallop around the stage.

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.

Learning about Broadway's nonprofits

A few things surprised me when I started going to the theatre in New York - and I'm not even talking about the price of tickets to a Broadway show.

One was the fact that very few theatres are located on Broadway. Second, many are fairly small, especially the orchestra sections.

And third, I didn't realize the large role played by three nonprofits: Roundabout, the Manhattan Theatre Club and Lincoln Center. Together, they operate 5 of the 40 Broadway venues. (I'm not sure if Circle in the Square is a nonprofit.)

MTC's mission is to produce a season "as broad and diverse as New York itself" while nurturing new talent and reaching out to younger audiences.

Roundabout's mission is to reenergize classic plays and musicals while developing new works to "embody the crossroads of American theatre."

Lincoln Center says it observes the mandate of founder John D. Rockefeller 3rd: "the arts not for the privileged few, but for the many." And it's guided by the motto: "Good Plays, Popular Prices."

For me, it's been a mixed bag.

I loved the Lincoln Center productions of South Pacific, Dividing the Estate and Joe Turner's Come and Gone. I thought Roundabout's 110 in the Shade was really enjoyable and it was my first time seeing the amazing Audra McDonald.

On the other hand, I wasn't energized by Roundabout's Waiting for Godot. MTC's LoveMusik was disappointing, too, but this week they'll get another chance when I see The Royal Family, which has gotten terrific reviews.

(And the tickets don't cost any less than commercially produced Broadway shows, so I'm not sure where that Lincoln Center mandate of arts for the many at popular prices fits in.)

But I'm hardly an expert on this subject, so over the weekend I listened to Downstage Center interviews from 2008 with artistic directors Lynne Meadow of MTC and Todd Haimes of Roundabout.

They were both good although Meadow is more lively, talking about how she caught the theatre bug growing up in New Haven Conn., and her fight to get into Yale Drama School. And they both discussed the balancing act between doing innovative work and keeping their subscribers happy.

Haimes, who comes from a business background, makes an interesting comment about the difference between the commercial and nonprofit worlds. (It's even more interesting considering that Roundabout's Bye Bye Birdie is selling tickets through April despite a critical drubbing.)

Here's part of what he said:

"I feel more pressure than ever to have stars because they do sell single tickets and we have to sell a lot of single tickets.

"And at a not-for-profit I not only feel pressure to have stars but I feel pressure to have stars who are great theatre actors because in the commercial theater - and I won't mention any names - you can get away with having a star who is famous but not a great theatre actor and get bad reviews and sell all the tickets and have it be considred a success because you made money.

In the not-for-profit theatre, that's not a success, that's what's called a failure. In the not-for-profit theatre what's a success is doing really fine work."

Ruhl's next room will be the Lyceum

Congratulations to playwright Sarah Ruhl, who will finally be making her Broadway debut this fall. In the Next Room or the vibrator play, produced by the Lincoln Center Theater, will begin previews at the Lyceum Theatre Oct. 22 and open on Nov. 19.

The announcement attracted my attention because it comes on the heels of a recent study about the lack of opportunities for female playwrights. (For a great follow-up discussion with artistic directors, check out Kris Vire's blog post at Time Out Chicago.)

Ruhl is the recipient of a "genius grant" from the MacArthur Foundation, which referred to her as a young playwright who is "emerging as a powerful presence in the American theater." I'm not saying being on Broadway is the end all and be all if you're an American playwright but I bet it's pretty thrilling. And I'm glad she's getting this opportunity.

In the Next Room, set in the twilight of the Victorian era, had its premiere earlier this year at the Berkeley Rep. It "illuminates the lives of six lonely people seeking relief from a local doctor — but, despite his expertise with a strange new technology, all they really need is intimacy."

And the play garnered some acclaim during its West Coast run.

In his New York Times review, Charles Isherwood called In the Next Room "a spirited and stimulating new comedy from one of the country's brightest young playwrights." In the Los Angeles Times, Charles McNulty wrote about his dislike for the ending but felt that the play "still has the potential to be a modern masterpiece."

I became a fan of Ruhl's after seeing her very funny play The Clean House at Trinity Repertory Company a couple of seasons ago. And I'm looking forward to Dead Man's Cell Phone next season.

I know it's tough for a new play on Broadway without any "stars" in the cast. But presumably, In the Next Room won't be under as much pressure since Lincoln Center has a base of subscribers, who'll see it as part of a package. Also, since it isn't transferring from off-Broadway, I'm hoping plenty of Ruhl's fans will be lining up to see the play, too.

Update: Laura Benanti, who blew me away with her Tony-winning performance as Louise in Gypsy, and Michael Cerveris have been cast in the play. So that makes me even more intrigued.

Joe Turner's Come and Gone

Gratuitous Violins rating: **** out of ****

I planned to take in the Broadway revival of Joe Turner's Come and Gone even before the president and first lady decided to drop by the Belasco Theatre for a date night. (Sadly, they beat me there by a week!)

I'd never seen a play by August Wilson and I figured that was a serious gap in my theatergoing experience. So I was excited when this production was announced.

And according to his widow, Constanza Romero, Joe Turner, the second in Wilson's Century Cycle chronicling the African-American experience, was the playwright's favorite of all his works. It was first produced on Broadway in 1988, with a cast that included L. Scott Caldwell (Rose, from Lost), Angela Bassett (in her first and only Broadway appearance. Come back!) and Delroy Lindo.

Still, by the time last Saturday night rolled around, I was feeling a bit of trepidation. I knew Joe Turner was nearly three hours long and it was my second show of the day - my fourth since Thursday. A little bit of theatre fatigue was setting in.

Well, I needn't have worried. I was totally swept up by this production from beginning to end. There is nothing like great storytelling and compelling characters to give a slightly weary theatergoer her second wind.

Joe Turner takes place in 1911 in a Pittsburgh boardinghouse operated by Seth and Bertha Holly, played with immense warmth by Ernie Hudson and LaTanya Richardson Jackson. They're a long-married couple who know each other's habits all too well.

Scenic designer Michael Yeargan has created a sparse but homey kitchen with a massive oak table in the center and a small, plant-filled garden lining the edge of the stage. The smokestacks of Pittsburgh's steel mills form a backdrop.

The Hollys' boardinghouse is a stopping point in the Great Migration of black people from the South to the North in the decades after the Civil War. They were seeking a better life, trying to find their place in a new world that was not very welcoming, in which prejudice and discrimination persisted.

Seth Holly, who grew up in the North, the son of a free black man, is one of the characters we get to know the best and Hudson, who I knew from the 1984 movie Ghost Busters, gives one of my favorite performances. Another character describes him as a "windbag" and he can be a bit disdainful of the attitudes of some of those new arrivals. But he's a good man and it's so sad to see how racism stands in the way of his ambitions.

Andre Holland made me smile with his sweet portrayal of Jeremy Furlow, one of those young ex-Southerners, an aspiring musician who fancies himself a ladies man. Roger Robinson gives a memorable, Tony-winning performance as Bynum Walker, an elderly rootworker who helps give the play a supernatural element.

And Chad L. Coleman is powerful as the mysterious and taciturn Herald Loomis, who has spent four years searching for his wife. His arrival at the boardinghouse one day with his shy young daughter, Zonia, played by Amari Rose Leigh, sets tumultuous events in motion.

One of the things I found so enthralling about Joe Turner's Come and Gone is the way Wilson packs so much of the African-American experience into the play. But he does it in a way that seems organic and natural, never forced. Bit by bit we learn more about his characters and their varied stories - where they come from, what their dreams are, the obstacles in their way.

There are also moments of great laughter and joy - like the West African juba dance in the first act and the way a neighbor boy, Reuben Scott, played by a very cute Michael Cummings, skips offstage after kissing Zonia.

Bartlett Sher, who helmed this Lincoln Center Theater production, has gotten quite a bit of attention, some of it negative, for being the first white director of an August Wilson play on Broadway.

I don't have the cultural background or theatre expertise to judge whether Sher's race made a difference. All I can say is, I was moved by the performances in Joe Turner's Come and Gone and I thought the story was riveting.

As I usually do, I went to the stage door afterward to get my Playbill signed. And I made sure to tell every cast member that this was my first time seeing an August Wilson play and I thought it was wonderful.

I was especially hoping to get Roger Robinson's signature because I knew he was favored to win the Tony for Best Featured Actor in a Play. The show ended at about 11 and he didn't emerge until nearly midnight. I'd almost given up hope but I was told he'd had visitors backstage and he was often the last one out.

Finally, he came and I told him how much I enjoyed myself, that this was my first August Wilson play. He said, "Well, I hope it won't be your last."

No, Mr. Robinson, it certainly won't be my last.

It's Tony Week

In a few days I'll be heading back to New York City. I know, I know, I was just there. This will be my shortest turnaround time ever between trips - twice in three weeks.

But this one will be special - my first time experiencing the sights and sounds of Broadway during Tony week. I'm anticipating a little extra zing (or zip) in the performances, a little more excitement in the air. And it'll all culminate Sunday night, when I attend my first-ever Tony party. (Actually, I believe this will be my first awards party of any type.)

Usually, I'm by myself jumping up off the couch and cheering when one of my favorites wins. This time, I'll be watching the ceremony unfold on a big-screen tv, cheering on the winners with some of my friends and fellow bloggers. (Hopefully, they'll teach me some Tony drinking games that this Playbill article mentions.)

Two weeks ago, I saw two musicals and one play. This time, the lineup is play-heavy: Mary Stuart, Exit the King, Waiting for Godot, and Joe Turner's Come and Gone. (Good thing I got my Joe Turner ticket before President and Mrs. Obama went because it's now become a little bit hotter.)

Unfortunately, I don't believe there are any pre-Tony events for the general public while I'm there so I've been trying to think of a few theatre-related things I could do, besides going to shows, just to help put me in the mood.

Of course, there's the obligatory visit to The Drama Book Shop, because I like to stock up on theatre-related reading material and support independent, bricks-and-mortar bookstores.

Here are some others:

The Museum of the City of New York has an ongoing exhibit chronicling the history of Broadway and of theater in New York City. There are costumes historic photographs, drawings and other memorabilia, including a gypsy robe and Mrs. Potts' costume from Beauty and the Beast. I definitely need to check it out soon.

Both Lincoln Center and Carnegie Hall offer tours. This year marks the 50th anniversary of Lincoln Center, so it's a great time to visit the performing-arts complex, which includes the Vivian Beaumont Theater, home to the Tony-winning revival of South Pacific. Of course, Carnegie Hall isn't a Broadway theatre but Broadway stars have appeared there and it's been the site of many musical-theatre gala events. Plus, it's America's most famous concert hall.

The New York Public Library for the Performing Arts, at Lincoln Center, usually has interesting theatre-related exhibits. I saw one last year on Songwriters and the Tony Awards. An upcoming exhibit on stage and screen star Katharine Hepburn looks great from the description. (Did you know her pet name for Spencer Tracy was "Pot"?) Unfortunately, it doesn't open until June 10, so I'll have to wait until next time.

Bartlett Sher and August Wilson

An article this week by Patrick Healy in The New York Times discusses the controversy over the selection of a director for August Wilson's play Joe Turner's Come and Gone. This is the first time a play of Wilson's has been produced on Broadway with a white director, Tony-winner Bartlett Sher.

Wilson, who died in 2005, always insisted that African-Americans direct major productions of his works. He felt black directors could best interpret his plays, which deal with African-American life in the 20th century. And he wanted to provide them with opportunities that were sorely lacking on Broadway. His widow, Constanza Romero, gave the go-ahead for Sher to direct this Lincoln Center revival.

I haven't seen the play, so I can't comment on whether or not Sher was a good choice. (Broadway & Me weighs in with, as usual, a terrific and perceptive review.) But I can see both sides of the issue.

It seems to me that you're going to be pretty limiting if you start assigning shows to directors based on race, religion, ethnicity, gender or sexual orientation.

A good director should be able to direct a play that might be the furthest thing from his or her own personal experience. That should include African-Americans directing plays with white casts. And Asian-American and Latino directors, too. Who knows, perhaps their interpretation will bring something new and vital to the table.

Look at a few recent examples: Annie Dorsen directed Passing Strange on Broadway, the story of a young African-American man; and Kate Whoriskey is directing Ruined off-Broadway, about the lives of women in the African nation of Congo. Both are white. Thomas Kail, who as far as I know isn't Latino, directed In the Heights, about a Latino neighborhood in New York City.

Still, I understand what Wilson was trying to achieve - a body of work that would be performed and presented by African-Americans, both onstage and backstage.

In the examples I just mentioned it would have been nice to include some of the African-American directors who have helmed shows on Broadway with largely white casts but I don't know if there are any, at least not recently.

That, it seems to me, is the heart of the matter - the lack of black directors - not only on Broadway, which is, after all, a pretty small place, but off-Broadway and in regional theatres all across the country. (And while we're at it, what about stagehands and choreographers and costume and set and lighting and sound designers?)

It would be great if Lincoln Center, now that it's broken the color barrier with Joe Turner's Come and Gone, would do its part. Andre Bishop, the artistic director, seems to understand. In the Times article, he says, “This experience has started a conversation about opportunities for black directors, and I’m taking it very seriously.”

I hope he does take it seriously because honestly, I think as theatergoers, we'd all benefit from a diversity of voices and experiences - both onstage and behind the scenes.

Some of the comments on the Times' site have been critical of Wilson's widow for allowing Sher to direct the play. But Romero is his sole executor and I have to believe that she and Wilson discussed what would happen after his death. Romero alludes to this in a 2007 Seattle Times article:

"I lived long enough with August to feel I knew what he wanted done with his work. ... Before he died we touched base on a few things. He understood I had to make decisions that would benefit his body of work, his legacy."