David Zayas and Cecily Strong are Owen and Fran, appealing neurotics, in the Manhattan Theatre Club presentation of John Patrick Shanley’s Brooklyn Laundry.
In the new drama Brooklyn Laundry, John Patrick Shanley—both author and director—is toying with the impact of uncanny coincidences on the narrative trajectory of his principal characters. That theme should ring a bell with fans of Moonstruck, the intoxicating 1987 film comedy for which this echt New York playwright won a best original screenplay Oscar.
This is the 13th Shanley play premiered by Manhattan Theatre Club. The most famous of the previous 12 is Doubt, the Pulitzer Prize–winning drama of 2005, currently enjoying a Broadway revival. Brooklyn Laundry has neither the heft of Doubt nor the effervescence of Moonstruck. It’s a fleet mix of laughter and melancholy, considerably more poignant than funny; and a striking showpiece for two superb stage actors who are far better known for their television work.
Trish (Florencia Lozano, at right) offers Fran sisterly advice in John Patrick Shanley’s Brooklyn Laundry.
Fran (Cecily Strong) is a white-collar drudge, tough-talking but feckless, and terrified that life is passing her by. David Zayas is Owen, proprietor of the titular laundry, who’s abashed by a debilitating injury and, consequently, uneasy about sexual intimacy. Both are textbook cases of arrested development, lacking any idea how to become authentic adults and uncertain whether being grown up is worth the effort it requires.
The two meet at the laundry, where Fran is a regular customer, on a morning when Owen is covering for an absent employee. They’re both loquacious, but the conversation is simultaneously awkward and flirty. When Fran laments the “office bullshit” she endures to make a living, Owen reveals that he did the same until being hit by a car. With a large settlement from the negligent motorist, he invested in his first drop-off laundry and now owns three.
Struck by the coincidental nature of Owen’s material success, Fran whines, “Why doesn’t anything like [your injury] happen to me?” Owen cautions, “Don’t say that, you never know who’s listening.” As to be expected in a Shanley play, that exchange portends catastrophe for Fran.
“There are moments in Shanley’s script that reach for the gently lunatic magic of his ‘Moonstruck’ screenplay. ”
Fran’s sister Trish (Florencia Lozano) is nearing the end of a terminal illness. Trying to advise the ineffectual Fran, Trish proffers the cautionary tale of her own failed marriage. In youth, she fancied herself and her ex-husband latter-day counterparts of Bonnie and Clyde. Now she recognizes “[w]e never really did anything, him and me. What did we do? If you looked us up, we’re not even in the book.”
From her deathbed, Trish observes that life is “over in a minute,” and warns Fran, “We have to do it now, whatever it is.” This is Trish’s clumsy way of giving her baby sister the counsel Lambert Strether offers a younger character in Henry James’s The Ambassadors: “Live all you can; it’s a mistake not to. … If you haven’t had [your life], what have you had?”
Fran is poised to make a knee-jerk commitment to Owen when life throws her a series of curveballs. In Moonstruck, the coincidences that propel Loretta (memorably portrayed by Cher) in an unexpected direction are the stuff of fairy tales. Fran, by contrast, is battered by truly grievous misadventures (the stuff of Oprah’s Book Club), including bad tidings about Susie (Andrea Syglowski), her other sibling, that call for her to take responsible action. By the time Fran stops dithering and decides how to address her problems, the opportunity for a serious relationship with Owen may have passed.
Fran absorbs terrible news from the middle sister, Susie (Andrea Syglowski), in Brooklyn Laundry. Photographs by Jeremy Daniel.
There are moments in Shanley’s script that reach for the gently lunatic magic of his Moonstruck screenplay. As director, though, Shanley skates past those hints of enchantment, surrendering to melodrama. In this production, when Owen and Fran spar about the existence of God (whom Owen fears may be eavesdropping on Fran’s wish to be hit by a car for long-term economic gain), it’s clear that neither theology nor Moonstruck-like sorcery are going to rescue these characters from the neurotic malaise they share.
Thanks to veteran designers Santo Loquasto (sets), Suzy Benzinger (costumes), and Brian MacDevitt (lighting), Brooklyn Laundry is an especially eye-appealing affair. This five-scene play has four super-detailed sets, each intriguing in its own way, which arrive and depart via turntable. That’s deluxe treatment for a four-character, intermissionless play that runs a mere 75 minutes. The empyreal qualities of the production’s look and feel, combined with the consummate performances by all four actors, deliver a memorable, though never quite moonstruck, evening.
Manhattan Theatre Club’s presentation of Brooklyn Laundry runs through April 14 at New York City Center Stage I (130 W. 56th St.). Performances are at 7 p.m. Tuesdays through Thursdays and 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; matinees are at 2 p.m. Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. For tickets and information, visit manhattantheatreclub.com or call (212) 581-1212.
Playwright & Director: John Patrick Shanley
Sets: Santo Loquasto
Lighting: Brian MacDevitt
Costumes: Suzy Benzinger
