The run of Everything’s Fine has been ended because of the unexpected death of Tony-winning writer and star Douglas McGrath, 64, on Thursday, Nov. 3. McGrath was nominated for Tony and Drama Desk awards for writing the book of Beautiful, and he was nominated for an Oscar for co-writing the film Bullets Over Broadway with Woody Allen. — Editor
If big-city Easterners could imagine what life in Midland, Texas, is like, they might conjure up images of a remote, semirural, small city with mundane lifestyles, cowboy hats, and thick drawls. Well, most of the stereotypical descriptors don’t apply here. Other than for the Texas sand, wind, and heat that Douglas McGrath describes in his solo play Everything’s Fine, there is much in McGrath’s story about growing up there that is universal.
In this memory play, directed by John Lithgow, what McGrath shares is largely typical of teenagers—self-consciousness, awkwardness, enduring friendships where buddies hang out at fast-food joints, secrets withheld from parents, and curiosity about the opposite sex. What dominates McGrath’s energy for much of the play is his anxiety. He is involuntarily catapulted into a relationship with a teacher that he has neither initiated nor wants to pursue. For the audience, who represent the mature adults in the room, the teen’s predicament is bizarre, absurd, and nearly comic. For McGrath, the pendulum swings from amusing to nearly terrifying.
McGrath has based his script on his experiences as the son of a transplant from New London, Conn., who went to Texas after World War II as part of an influx of Americans from other regions. Many of the newcomers were Ivy League graduates looking to make money from the booming energy industry. (There goes the cowboy myth.) McGrath’s Ohio-born mother, father, and younger siblings seem to be a normal, communicative family, humorous and caring. The problem is Mrs. Malenkov, his history teacher.
The size of the theater and the fact that McGrath often breaks the “fourth wall,” talking directly to his audience, give this 90-minute, intermissionless work an intimacy and a charm that makes it appear more like a friendly, shared recollection than hard drama. There is a dark twist, foreshadowed, at the center of his story (spoiler alert). He admits that he did not recognize the “red flag” that, in part, marred his eighth grade. Regardless, he must ultimately deal with the situation in a thoughtful, mature way.
McGrath, as his teenaged self, is credible, ingenuous, and likable. Nevertheless, those traits don’t help him when it comes to uncomfortable situations—ones that could have been avoided if he had been a more self-confident and mature eighth-grader at the outset. This is particularly important when he interacts with Mrs. Malenkov. He doesn’t really see anything problematic when she says, “Why don’t you pull up a chair and come sit?” McGrath’s reaction? “So, I pulled up a chair and I sat. She could not have been nicer or less teacherly. She asked me what music I listened to.” How much harm could there be in that, one wonders? In hindsight, there is an ominousness behind that niceness.
McGrath’s “therapist/mentor” and sounding board is his buddy Eddie, who is very funny and, for a teenager, highly pragmatic. Despite the seemingly endless muddle in which McGrath flounders, the repartee between him and “drawling” Eddie is a brilliantly comic strength of the script. When McGrath observes that Mrs. Malenkov has not sent him a “blue note” all day, Eddie says, “Oh, I wouldn’t get your hopes up. She’s probably outside right now. In a plane. Skywriting.”
Despite the bumbling way that McGrath deals with his teacher crisis, the typical teenage parts of him, like his music choices, are endearing. Songs that young McGrath adored, including the iconic Three Dog Night hit, Joy to the World, are pumped through the speakers as part of Emma Wilk’s sound design.
Lithgow’s direction deserves special praise. It is not easy to block action on a small stage with desks and chairs, around which the sole actor must maneuver, changing venues, which include the family home and Mrs. Malenkov’s living room. In addition, Lithgow’s subtler direction, such as McGrath’s use of his hands, body language and facial expressions, add depth to the actor’s characterization. Yet the somewhat disproportionate emphasis on McGrath’s relationship with his teacher seems to slow down the play’s momentum.
The story is a snapshot in time of McGrath’s childhood, until he returns to his father’s native Connecticut for high school. The outlandish incidents with Mrs. Malenkov, as strange and humorous as they are, are also a bit predictable, and by all accounts, quite inappropriate. By dominating the plot, they eclipse, to some extent, parts of that childhood that perhaps the audience might have wanted McGrath to share with them: his beautiful, savvy mother, his one-eyed father, his sister’s heavily Texas-accented story—all of them are enticing characters and could be more well-developed.
Everything’s Fine runs at the DR2 Theatre (101 E. 15th St.) until Jan. 23. Evening performances are at 7 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday and at 8 p.m. Saturday; matinees are at 2 p.m. Saturday and 3 p.m. Sunday. For more information, or to reach the box office, call (212) 375-1110 or visit everythingsfineplay.com.