For decades the Harold Rome–Jerome Weidman musical I Can Get It for You Wholesale has been known primarily for putting Barbra Streisand on the map. In 1962 many critics found protagonist Harry Bogen, a young Jewish hustler in New York City’s garment trade in 1937, too unlikable, even though Pal Joey and its caddish hero had succeeded in various Broadway productions. But timing also played a part. John Chapman in the Daily News noted that “his success, unlike Robert Morse’s genial villainies in How to Succeed [at a nearby theater], leaves a bad taste.” In the New York Times, Howard Taubman complained that the book was not “uplifting.” Now that antiheroes are commonplace, however, Wholesale deserves another look, and the Classic Stage Company’s loving revival (with a book updated by Jerome’s son John Weidman) provides evidence that it’s an overlooked gem.
Food
Geoff Sobelle’s Food at BAM Fisher is performance art of the most engaging kind. It provokes rumination about man’s relationship to nature, to the use of the environment, and to the distance between tilling the earth with dirty hands and the meal that arrives on a plate at home or in a restaurant. If that implies an overly serious purpose, it is brightened by Sobelle’s interactivity with his audience, his deft sleight of hand, and slapstick that veers into carnival sideshow.
King of the Jews
“Power corrupts” is a global, historical truism, possibly even more so when conquerors ensnare the vanquished to do their dirty work. Such was the case for Jews in the mid–20th century in Europe’s Nazi-controlled ghettoes. The Nazis often appointed Jewish leaders to decide on the people to be deported—often a death sentence. The Jewish-run panels were called Judenrats. In Leslie Epstein’s King of the Jews, adapted from his novel of the same name, an ethnic German Nazi enforcer in Łódź, Poland, authorizes a group of Jews to select fellow Jews for deportation.
Sabbath’s Theater
Philip Roth’s 1995 novel Sabbath’s Theater is considered outrageous and raunchy even by Rothian standards, with retired, arthritic puppeteer Mickey Sabbath making Alexander Portnoy—the hero of Roth’s 1969 novel Portnoy’s Complaint, which launched his career—look tame by comparison. For Mickey there is no desire for redemption or decency; there is only narcissistic pleasure-seeking, misanthropy, and self-gratification at any cost. All of which begged the question, in a recent New York Times piece on John Turturro and writer Ariel Levy, who co-adapted the novel into a playscript, “Is 2023 ready for Sabbath?”
Poor Yella Rednecks
By this point, the plays of Qui Nguyen are starting to look like “seen one, seen them all.” From his earliest productions, for downtown theater troupe Vampire Cowboys, Nguyen’s works have their hallmarks: comic-book-style scenic design, martial arts, superhero and pop-culture fandom. The playwright has often been acclaimed for inventive storytelling and stagecraft. But now that he’s deployed the same gimmicks in play after play, their novelty has worn off. In Poor Yella Rednecks, Nguyen’s latest show to debut in New York, they seem obtrusive. The play is solidly plotted, with thoughtful, moving dialogue scenes. It could shed all the whiz-bang surrealities and still be a worthwhile, entertaining dramedy.
Emergence
Things are not as they seem,” intones Patrick Olson, the creator and driving force behind Emergence, an uncanny conceptual performance that merges art, science, music, and monologue and may well be the most original Off-Broadway show this season. Accompanied by an ensemble of four singers, three dancers, and a rock band, Olson invites theatergoers on a transformative journey that tears off the veil from familiar things and explores the deepest aspects of the human experience.
Telling Tales Out of School
Four matrons of the Harlem Renaissance, all feisty, confident, and accomplished authors, activists, and folklorists, recall racial discrimination and the realities of a man’s world in Wesley Brown’s Telling Tales Out of School. Set in 1954, a seminal moment for civil rights, the play finds the quartet—Zora Neale Hurston (Elizabeth Van Dyke), a black anthropologist and author; Nancy Cunard (June Ballinger), a white, left-leaning Cunard heiress, activist and editor; Jessie Fauset (Richarda Adams), a black editor and poet; and Nella Larsen (Petronia Paley), a biracial former nurse and novelist—becoming reacquainted in Brown’s imagined reunion.
Daphne
In “Ballad of a Thin Man” Bob Dylan sings, “Something is happening here, but you don’t know what it is,” a refrain that applies perfectly to Daphne (Jasmine Batchelor), the eponymous character in a new play by Renae Simone Jarrett at LCT3’s Claire Tow Theater. Something is certainly happening to Daphne, psychologically and physically, but the uncanny transformation doesn’t obey the conventional rules of time or space, and nothing may be what it seems.
All the Devils Are Here
Patrick Page’s investigation into Shakespeare’s villains is a master class on the Bard and a bravura demonstration of Shakespearean acting. In All the Devils Are Here: How Shakespeare Invented the Villain, Page brings a lifetime of performing and thinking about Shakespeare to the stage. He inhabits characters running the full range of Shakespeare’s dramatic career and imparts some of the wisdom he has accrued along the way, summoning evil spirits one moment and serving as congenial, good-natured, and charismatic host into the heart of darkness the next.
Partnership
An advantageous business offer, with a loveless marriage thrown in: this is one of the would-be “partnerships” around which Elizabeth Baker’s 1917 drama Partnership, a feminist parable and Romantic cri de coeur in the guise of a comedy of manners, revolves. As is so often the case with the plays that the Mint Theater Company rescues from obscurity, the issues are both historically specific and still relevant. Must the demands of business always be at odds with personal nourishment? Should one prize practicality or love? Does respectability entail a life of drudgery, while a life well lived means being branded as “mad”?
Scrambled Eggs
Reginald L. Wilson pulls no punches when it comes to tackling the subject of domestic violence in his new play, Scrambled Eggs. Directed by Fulton C. Hodges, and coinciding with Domestic Violence Awareness Month, the work explores this major public health problem in all its terrible guises. Set in Tallahassee, Fla., the family drama centers on Terrence (Wilson), a construction worker in his 40s who has trouble holding down a job because of alcohol and marijuana. He’s married to Sable (Tatiana Scott), a college graduate with a degree in education who left her teaching job after Terrence persuaded her to stay home and devote her time to family and their primary schooler named Lil T (Christopher Woodley).
The Lights Are On
In addition to crafting an engrossing thriller, dramatist Owen Panettieri shows a gift for prognostication with The Lights Are On. He wrote the play before the pandemic—it had been set for a fall opening in 2020 when COVID shut down all theater—yet it has a character who hoards toilet paper and face masks, wipes down the groceries and stays home all the time.
Bite Me
Eliana Pipes’ Bite Me—a 90-minute drama having its world premiere in a coproduction by WP Theater and Colt Coeur—has an ABC Afterschool Special vibe. It’s about high schoolers in distress, but is not harsh and graphic like much of today's teen fare; its gentleness is more in line with the ’70s-era standards of those Afterschool Specials, minus the sappiness and didacticism.
Mary Gets Hers
Emma Horwitz’s new comedy, Mary Gets Hers, is a quirky coming-of-age story. Inspired by a 10th-century comedy, Abraham, by Hrosvitha of Gandersheim, Horwitz has retooled her work for contemporary audiences, with a lot of tomfoolery folded in, and director Josiah Davis, Horwitz’s long-time collaborator, has cast women in all the roles.
Swing State
So why is Rebecca Gilman’s new drama called Swing State? Granted, it takes place in rural Wisconsin, in the recent past, when COVID shots were novelties and the Delta variant was lurking. But there’s not a lot political going on among her four principals, beyond a general head-butting between Peg (Mary Beth Fisher), the liberal, nature-loving recent widow occupying Todd Rosenthal’s hyperrealistic prairie home set, and the more traditionalist, presumably Trump-loving denizens around her. (Gratefully, the man himself rates only one mention.) In fact, when you get down to it, there’s really not a lot of anything going on.
Dig
The plant-store setting of Theresa Rebeck’s play Dig might be reminiscent of Little Shop of Horrors, but in Dig the plants are the victims, not the aggressors—victims of human selfishness, anger, and desire. For Roger (Jeffrey Bean), the tightly wound owner of the store (which is named Dig), the damage done to plants is more keenly felt than the damage human beings do to others or to themselves; and it is also more easily addressed, as Roger is a master of restoring vitality and life to seemingly doomed plants. With people, he’d really rather not be bothered.
Job
Max Wolf Friedlich packs a boomer–Gen Z clash, thoughts about modern technology, gender politics, liberals’ self-flagellation, the belligerent anxiety that’s become our national character, and a whopper of a twist into the 85-minute run time of Job, his first play produced Off Broadway. Also making her Off-Broadway debut with Job is actress Sydney Lemmon, granddaughter of movie legend Jack, recently seen opposite Cate Blanchett in Tár and opposite the venomous Roy clan on Succession—where her Job costar, Peter Friedman, had a recurring role.
Infinite Life
Annie Baker makes her much-anticipated return to Off-Broadway with the world premiere of Infinite Life, a coproduction with Britain’s National Theatre. The play, once titled On the Uses of Pain for Life, was slated for Fall 2021 at Signature Theatre, but it never materialized; Baker’s most recent play, The Antipodes, was produced at Signature in 2017. It takes only a few moments of Infinite Life’s halting and delightfully awkward opening exchange for Baker to captivate with her uncanny blend of the naturalistic and the absurd, honing in on human frailty with a merciless yet empathetic eye, this time trained on patients at an alternative pain clinic in Northern California.
Bioadapted
Bioadapted, a new theater piece created and directed by Tjaša Ferme, and written by James Yu and Alexis Roblan, is a hybrid play drawn from sources as disparate as a 2020 article in Britain’s Guardian newspaper that was written by ChatGPT; transcripts of panels of scientists discussing the subject; and scientists interacting with artificial intelligence (AI). Turning transcripts into drama has been around a long while—from Emily Mann’s Execution of Justice and Moisés Kaufman’s Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde to the recent Is This a Room, which took dialogue verbatim from FBI interviews with Reality Winner.
A Séance with Mom
Actress-playwright-comedian Nancy Redman has returned to the Chain Studio Theatre for the third run of her one-woman show, A Séance with Mom. Directed by Austin Pendleton, the piece is performed on a bare stage, with only a chair, small table, and walker at its side. Its six characters are conjured up by Redman with her expressive voice, elastic face, and physical comedy. Redman, who has been described as a cross-fertilization of Lucille Ball and Groucho Marx, steers clear of politics, preferring to take a deep dive into family relationships and the human condition.