Ames (Jonathan Hadary, left) is an old friend of party host Morkan (Marylouise Burke, right), whose guests also include Freddy (C.J. Wilson, second from left) and Kelly (Heather Burns).
Anybody who remembers the 2000 Broadway musical adaptation of James Joyce’s The Dead would not be surprised to learn that Joyce’s story inspired Brian Watkins to write Epiphany. The productions look similar: set in a somberly lit room with a large rug in the center, a piano off to one side and multiple tables around. And in Epiphany, just as in The Dead, a group of people gather for a wintertime party in the home of someone named Morkan.
Watkins borrowed other things from Joyce’s original work, including a drunken guest named Freddy, the highly anticipated arrival of an invitee named Gabriel, a performance of the song “The Lass of Aughrim,” even the name Aran—in The Dead, characters refer to the Aran Islands of Ireland; in Epiphany, Aran is Gabriel’s girlfriend. In addition, words spoken by Epiphany’s Freddy (about Gabriel’s writing) sound like an homage to Joyce himself: “I read two things of his and I kept going, ‘Wait, what?’ ’cause I thought I knew what he was saying, but I had to read each sentence, like, four times—it was so rich, it was so difficult.”
Morkan (Burke, left) follows up a goose entrée with a seven-layer flambé for dessert at her epiphany party attended by partners Sam (Omar Metwally, center) and Taylor (David Ryan Smith, right). Photographs by Jeremy Daniel.
Most of all, though, Watkins was inspired by Joyce’s reflections on the concept of epiphany. And in the play, epiphany—with a lowercase e—is what has inspired Morkan to host a dinner party. She wasn’t even familiar with the capital-e religious holiday Epiphany; she wants to celebrate “the word as an idea,” she says. “The phrase I remember is something like epiphanies brought ‘all guards down.’”
Watkins’ intermissionless two-hour play depicts Morkan’s dinner party. She and her eight guests (one, Loren, is actually there just to help Morkan out) drink, eat and discuss everything from loneliness to the passage of time to consumerism to religion and technology and the state of civilization—plus any epiphany/Epiphany-related customs or beliefs they found while googling.
The conversations never really get in-depth, though. A subject comes up, and it reminds somebody of an experience they had or an article they read or something like that; they share; another person agrees or counters; and then it’s on to a different matter. So, ultimately the play doesn’t offer any profound thoughts on these heady topics. And the only real story line doesn’t emerge until the final quarter of the play.
“They’re a fairly educated, cultured bunch—a teacher, a musician, an attorney and a psychiatrist among them.”
It doesn’t go very in-depth on the characters, either. Morkan—played by Marylouise Burke in a performance that takes full advantage of the veteran actress’s quirks—has lived for 40 years in the big old house where the dinner party takes place; she had a brother and sister—the latter lived with her until recently. But the audience never learns what she’s done with her life, or even how she knows her guests. They’re a fairly educated, cultured bunch—a teacher, a musician, an attorney and a psychiatrist among them. Whether Morkan is too is one of the many things about her that’s not revealed.
Similarly, we get the basics of profession and relationship status about each guest, plus a personality trait or habit here or there, but the characters don’t feel fully fleshed-out. Still, the show is saved by some extremely well-choreographed banter. For the first hour, at least, you barely notice the lack of substantive insights because the guests’ arrivals, chatter and trips to the bar cart are staged and executed in such an entertaining manner by a cast of New York stage regulars including Jonathan Hadary, C.J. Wilson, Francois Battiste, Heather Burns and Omar Metwally.
At the Epiphany dinner table (from left): Wilson, Colby Minifie, Carmen Zilles, Burke and Metwally.
With all the cross talk and overlapping dialogue, their ace timing is key in both eliciting laughs and creating an almost immersive experience. All the guests’ remarks about the weather and what their trip was like and “Didn’t we meet at...?” sound natural and realistic. In the compact Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater, with just eight rows of semicircular seating, audience members might feel in the midst of their milling about—like they could pull up a chair when everyone sits down together around the dinner table.
Epiphany is stunning to look at as well. Morkan’s expansive parlor (the set includes two long staircases, one seen only from the underside) is more careworn than John Lee Beatty’s usual mansionesque interiors, but his scenic design does suggest the home’s bygone elegance. Beatty has teamed with lighting designer Isabella Byrd on an evocative moonlit snowfall on the trees outside, visible through floor-to-ceiling windows.
The Tyne Rafaeli–directed production is indeed an attractive package. It just might feel a little empty once it’s all unwrapped.
Epiphany is running through July 24 at the Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater in Lincoln Center. Performances are at 7 p.m. Tuesday and Thursday and 8 p.m. Wednesday, Friday and Saturday, with matinees at 2 p.m. Wednesday and Saturday and at 3 p.m. Sunday. For tickets, visit ltc.org.
