When aging genius Orson Welles and actor Sir Laurence Olivier meet in Ireland after many years, each brings his own “baggage” and sparks fly. Add to them the characters of theater critic Kenneth Tynan; Vivien Leigh, Olivier’s almost ex-wife; Joan Plowright, Olivier’s new woman; and an audacious Irishman, and play production bedlam prevails. With Orson’s Shadow, playwright and director Austin Pendleton, together with his codirector David Schweizer, has created a masterpiece that qualifies as much as comedy as it does drama.
Tynan (Patrick Hamilton) approaches Orson Welles (Brad Fryman) at the Gaiety Theatre in Dublin, where Welles’s Chimes at Midnight has failed financially. Schweizer’s set for the Gaiety conveys a dark, dank, and eerie theater, in which Welles’s emerging, obese form dwarfs Tynan. Welles, convinced that Tynan disliked his play, resists Tynan’s attempts at persuading him to direct Olivier in Eugene Ionesco’s play Rhinoceros. While Tynan waits for Welles to appear, his opening monologue establishes his verbosity, insecurity, and humor. He speaks of Olivier:
He needs a director for a play. … I'm using the man I wish had been my father. … I am illegitimate. This is an advantage for a critic. … [When] they call you a bastard, you can receive it as a simple statement of fact.
Despite Olivier’s (Ryan Tramont) contentious history with Welles, Tynan hopes Welles and “Larry” can work together on the production.
At the play’s rehearsals at the Royal Court in London, Leigh (Natalie Menna), bipolar and tuberculosis-stricken, disrupts the proceedings by phone and in person. Plowright (Cady McClain), Olivier’s new costar on stage and off, tries to get her beau to accommodate himself to Welles’s directions. Amid this havoc, Sean (Luke Hofmaier), Orson’s naïve yet unduly nervy Irish gofer, cuts through the others’ pretensions. All the actors are superb, but Tramont’s and Hofmaier’s comic timing is extraordinary.
Chaotic rehearsals for Rhinoceros are not only interrupted by Leigh’s calls and unexpected appearances, but Welles pits his will against Olivier’s; the stuttering Tynan is caught between them. The latter rambles on: “I'd been writing about Broadway … and I was sub-sub-subpoenaed by the House un-Am-m-merican Committee. … We are living in such frightened times. … If I could bring these fearless men together, perhaps it might help!” to which Olivier responds, “Darling boy, your arguments are going to have to learn to be a little bit more concise!”
In addition, Tynan’s subpoena by the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) had less effect on him as a British citizen than it did on Welles. Pendleton curiously omits how Welles’s self-imposed exile to London was likely to avoid HUAC, given that Citizen Kane, his 1941 film classic, landed him under FBI surveillance.
Tynan’s ironic and humorous struggle to unite “these fearless men” (Olivier and Welles), who haggle over stage directions, fails for several reasons, not least of which is his own ego. Ostensibly self-deprecating, Tynan is as full of himself as Olivier and Welles. Oxford’s larger-than-life, chain-smoking savant commands everyone’s attention, upstaging them with an emphysema-driven hacking cough that renders him unable to breathe. Concern for Tynan’s health is the only thing about which the two male and two female actors agree.
The play’s title itself is an allusion to Welles’s place in theater and cinema in 1960. Welles is but a shadow of himself—obese, and except for Citizen Kane, largely forgotten by Hollywood’s studio heads and even his ex-wife, Rita Hayworth. He’s still in self-exile and for years hasn’t been able to raise funds for any dream projects. Leigh is also a shadow of herself, suffering from tuberculosis, still chain smoking, and alternately delusional, manic, and depressed in her Irish villa and in the ensemble’s company. She senses that Olivier will leave her for Plowright, but he retreats from telling her because of her mental state. Even Olivier himself, as great as his accomplishments have been, is dressed down by Welles for his role in The Entertainer. Plowright is the only one who seems unscathed, other than the fact that Leigh knows about her affair with Olivier. She alone survives to a ripe old age (she’s 95).
Beneath the play’s sophisticated humor, there is great pathos. These legendary artists are, after all, fragile humans who are subject to the same frailties as those whom they represent onstage.
Orson’s Shadow runs at Theater for a New City (155 First Ave.) through Dec. 1. Evening performances are Tuesday through Saturday at 8 p.m.; matinees are at 3 p.m. on Sundays. For more information, or to purchase tickets, call the box office at (212) 254-1109 or visit theaterforthenewcity.net.
Playwright: Austin Pendleton
Directors: Austin Pendleton & David Scbweizer
Set Design: David Scbweizer
Lighting Design: Alexander Bartenieff
Costume Design: Billy Little
Sound Design & Composer: Nick Moore