Notable, quotable American plays

I've been looking over the results of a poll by the Denver Post that came up with the 10 most important American plays. They are:

1.) Death of a Salesman
2.) Angels in America
3.) A Streetcar Named Desire
4.) Long Day's Journey Into Night
5.) Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf
6.) Our Town
7.) The Glass Menagerie
8.) A Raisin in the Sun
9.) The Crucible
10.) Fences

The only one I haven't seen is The Glass Menagerie. I've seen four on stage - Our Town, A Raisin in the Sun, Fences and The Crucible - and movie versions of the others. (My high school put on The Crucible, so it's been a long time!)

The newspaper surveyed people connected with the theatre world and the list is filled with high school and college English class fare. They're older works, which I guess is how you become a classic.

Two things surprised me about the list.

First, they're all exceedingly serious. Hasn't anyone written a great American comedy? Second, the article includes a quote from each play and I was surprised by how few I recognized.

These are important plays for the way they illuminate American life. But if I didn't already know the names of the top 10, I would only have been able to match the dialogue to the play for three - Death of A Salesman, A Streetcar Named Desire and A Raisin in the Sun.

I'm not sure that's important. A great play is more than a collection of snappy one-liners, right? Maybe it's just a reflection of my lousy memory. I can't quibble with the list or say that I would have done any better.

Anyway, here's a clip from a 1985 TV production of Death of A Salesman, adapted from the 1984 Broadway revival. It featured Dustin Hoffman as Willy Loman, John Malkovich as Biff, Stephen Lang as Happy and Kate Reid as Linda.

For Willy's sake, please pay attention!

The best theatre of 2009

I've avoided making best-of lists the past couple of years because it's just too difficult. For me, going to the theatre, especially in New York City, is such a treat. Even if I didn't absolutely love the play or musical, there's almost always some saving grace.

So I usually settle for taking note of my favorite performances, which allows me to mention just about everything. But this year, there were a half-dozen shows that moved me so deeply, I wanted to recognize them. After careful study and much thought, these are my picks for the best of 2009. I saw five on Broadway and one off-Broadway. Two were transfers from Chicago and one came from London.

Next to Normal

Composer Tom Kitt and lyricist and book writer Brian Yorkey have accomplished something so rare for Broadway - an original musical about a complex subject. Alice Ripley as Diana, a woman in the throes of mental illness, J. Robert Spencer as her husband, Dan, and Jennifer Damiano as their daughter Natalie were heart-wrenching. The vibrant rock 'n' roll score conveys so well what each character is going through - how they feel, their fears and frustrations. As an outsider looking in, I gained a greater understanding of the devastating impact mental illness has on a family and how difficult it is to treat. Next to Normal was tough to watch at times, but I found it utterly compelling.

Hair

I've always loved Hair and I've always been interested in the 1960s. The current Broadway revival evokes the spirit of the decade without glossing over its tumultuous events. Will Swenson and Gavin Creel are terrific as the charismatic leader of a tribe of hippies and a conflicted draftee, respectively. Under the direction of Diane Paulus, the musical is exhilarating to watch. But Paulus also reminds us of the cost when we send young Americans into harm's way. And fittingly for a time in which inhibitions were cast aside, Hair ends with an invitation to become part of the tribe. As a result, I set foot on a Broadway stage for the very first time. I got to sing and dance (in my off-key, uncoordinated way) and see how things look from the other side. It was the most thrilling moment I've ever had at the theatre and one of the most memorable experiences of my life.

Our Town and Brighton Beach Memoirs

What director David Cromer did so brilliantly in Our Town off-Broadway and Brighton Beach Memoirs in its too-short Broadway run was strip them to their essence: absorbing stories of the daily lives and loves of American families.

As Our Town's high school sweethearts Emily and George, Jennifer Grace and James McMenamin embody the awkwardness of teenagers. And Cromer, as the stage manager, was incredible - so unaffected and genuine, I didn't even realize the play had begun when he started speaking. For the first time, I felt like this play about early 20th century life in small-town New Hampshire could be taking place today. Our Town runs through Jan. 31 at the Barrow Street Theatre in Greenwich Village. Cromer, who helmed the play in its premiere at Chicago's The Hypocrites, is returning to the play as the stage manager tonight through Jan. 3, so this is a perfect time to see it.

And in Brighton Beach Memoirs, Cromer served up a warm portrait of a family scraping to get by during the Great Depression. They're absolutely Jewish but you didn't have to be to appreciate their struggles, their humor and their hopes and fears. As Kate Jerome, Laurie Metcalf was simply awesome, getting to the strength behind the Jewish mother stereotype. And newcomer Noah Robbins was remarkable as the teenage Eugene, so appealing and making Neil Simon's quips sound so natural.

Superior Donuts

Superior Donuts, a transfer from Chicago's Steppenwolf Theatre Company, has Tracy Letts' razor-sharp dialogue and memorable characters, along with a great deal of tenderness and wit. And for me, it was filled with emotion. Jon Michael Hill is amazing as Franco Wicks, an engaging young black man who comes to work in the downscale Chicago donut shop run by Michael McKean's Polish-American Arthur Przbyszewski. I was laughing, hard, at their banter but when Franco pulls out of his knapsack his Great American Novel, my eyes got moist. Stories about aspiring writers always get to me. Of all the shows on Broadway this fall that dealt with race, Superior Donuts was my favorite for the way it explores how we relate to each other as a community, as individuals, as Americans. Sadly, Superior Donuts is closing Jan. 3 at Broadway's Music Box Theatre but you've still got a couple of weeks to catch it.

The Norman Conquests

At the beginning of 2009, this trilogy by British playwright Alan Ayckbourn, which started at London's Old Vic Theatre, was nowhere on my radar. But then the reviews started coming in and they were so enthusiastic I thought well, it'll be an experience - a theatre marathon from 11:30 a.m. to 10:30 p.m., with breaks for lunch and dinner. The Norman Conquests turned out to be one of the best and most unique theatergoing experiences I've had. The six-member cast was superb. Even after three plays totaling about 7 hours I never got tired of watching such vivid, distinct characters interact in ways that were touching and hilarious. I loved them all but Stephen Mangan as Norman was my favorite. He played a character I was prepared to dislike but Mangan made him so sympathetic - even if he was an unscrupulous cad at times. It's a performance that I'll never forget.

Drawing the curtain on my theatre season

Barring some miracle, my 2008-2009 New York City theatergoing season is complete. It was a great year as always - I saw so many terrific performances and the plays especially were great - so much absorbing and inventive storytelling.

Now it's time for some end-of-the-season thoughts.

1.) Be flexible. In January, the plays that make up Alan Ayckbourn's trilogy The Norman Conquests weren't even on the list of shows I planned to see, yet they turned out to be one of the best theatre experiences I've ever had. I've never laughed so hard, so consistently. While each of the six actors created a memorable character, in my opinion Stephen Mangan as Norman gave a performance for the ages.

2.) Go off-Broadway more. Every season it seems like there are a few Broadway shows I could have missed and a few off-Broadway I wish I'd seen. Two of the best plays I saw were Black Watch at St. Ann's Warehouse in Brooklyn, and Our Town at the Barrow Street Theatre in Greenwich Village. And I'm kicking myself that I probably won't make to Ruined.

3.) Luck was with me. Broadway actors are a pretty dedicated bunch but I know sometimes people get sick, go on vacation, etc. West Side Story was apparently hit with a rash of understudies earlier this summer. So I'd like to mention that practically every performer I wanted to see when I bought my ticket was in the show the day I saw it - even some who left soon afterward.

4.) The list grows shorter. I crossed seven more theatres off my list this season, including the adorable 597-seat Helen Hayes, which is so tiny I wish I could have packed it up, put it in my suitcase and taken it home with me! I've now been in 29 of the 40 Broadway theatres - not bad when you consider that in April 2007, I hadn't been to a single one. By the end of the year, I could be down to the single digits.

5.) I saw the light. I exited the Palace after seeing West Side Story and then realized the stage door was on the other side of the building, so I walked back through the theatre. To my surprise, the ghost light had already been put out on stage. I was thrilled! I'd read about that particular theatrical tradition but never seen one. A little thing, but it was cool.

6.) TKTS prices. I used the reduced-price ticket booth in Times Square twice this year but it's not always a great bargain. At about 20 minutes before curtain time on a recent Sunday, TKTS wanted $91 for a partial-view seat at Hair. I couldn't believe it. Sorry, but as much as I wanted to see Hair a second time, that's way too much money for not being able to see the entire stage.

7.) Where's the VIP? My ticket for Our Town cost $49.50, before fees. If I'd wanted to splurge, I could have spent double that amount - and I would have been upset once I saw the size of the theatre. Barrow Street, really, how in good conscience can you charge $95 for "VIP premium" seats in a theatre that's smaller than some living rooms? And where are the premium seats anyway - in David Cromer's lap?

8.) Color me disappointed. I don't buy a lot of souvenirs when I go to New York, but I do keep all of my Playbills. Now I realize when I see shows that have been open for awhile, I'm not going to get one with a nice color cover. But if you're switching to black and white, at least make it decent. I was shocked at how washed-out my black and white 9 to 5 Playbill looked.

Our Town

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

In December, Chicago Tribune critic Chris Jones wrote in his Theater Loop blog about the selection of director David Cromer as Theater Chicagoan of the Year. He mentioned that in May, Cromer had directed an "astonishing" production of Our Town.

Our Town astonishing? Really? That got my attention.

I found the review that Jones wrote and it was one of the most enthusiastic I've ever read. He used words like "astounding" and "brilliantly revisionist" in describing the performance, put on in a cramped basement by a small company called The Hypocrites.

I'd read Thornton Wilder's play in high school and I saw a good production in 2007 at Trinity Repertory Company. But I couldn't even begin to imagine what Cromer had done to elicit this kind of praise. I knew that if Our Town ever came to New York, I wanted to see it.

Well, last week I had a chance to make my way down to the Barrow Street Theatre in Greenwich Village for Our Town. And it was worth the trip because Jones' rave review was right on target. Seeing new life breathed into a classic American play is a wonderful experience.

First, Barrow Street, located in a community center, fits this production so well. The theatre seats about 200 people and isn't much bigger than some living rooms I've been in. The play takes place literally right in front of the audience. And in keeping with Wilder's instructions, there's almost no scenery or props.

It's easy to think of Our Town, written in in 1938 and set in the first decade of the 20th century in the fictional town of Grover's Corners, New Hampshire, as a quaint period piece. You could call it an an elegy to a small-town America that no longer exists.

Well, maybe the milkman doesn't bring the milk by horse-drawn wagon anymore. But Cromer has made the play contemporary and relevant. For the first time I thought, it could be taking place today. Watching the daily life of Our Town's residents unfold didn't seem all that distant.

Plus, as the stage manager who narrates Our Town, Cromer gives one of the best performances I've ever seen - completely natural and unaffected.

At the center of Our Town is the story of Emily Webb, the newspaper editor's daughter, and George Gibbs, the doctor's son. As Emily and George, Jennifer Grace and James McMenamin truly embody the awkwardness of teenagers.

They give the play its timeless quality - no matter how much things change, kids are still kids. You have dreams and insecurities. You fall in love. Eventually, you have to confront adulthood in all of its joy and heartache and regrets. And Grace does an especially fine job appearing first little girlish, then a teenager, and finally, a young woman.

I've seen so many play revivals over the past few years where it seemed like there was nothing new to say and the work showed its age. But this was different. It was so satisfying and it made me look at the play in a different way.

I always felt that the third and final act of Our Town seemed a little tacked on. But Cromer makes a decision that made me gasp. It was unexpected, yet loyal to the theme of the play, about what we should cherish in life. It was visceral and vivid and reminded me so much of people in my own life that I got choked up.

I was already pretty excited about the two Neil Simon revivals that Cromer will direct on Broadway this fall - Brighton Beach Memoirs and Broadway Bound. After Our Town, I just cannot wait to see what he does with them.

Our Town has now been extended through Jan. 31, 2010, and Cromer will be with it through Aug. 16, when he leaves to start rehearsals on the Neil Simon plays.