Three well written and expertly staged shows now playing in New York struck me in the varying ways they elicit empathy in their characters and/or their audiences, making them worthwhile subjects for a deeper examination of this issue and its impact on these productions.
"A Strange Loop," a musical with book, music and lyrics by Michael R. Jackson, explores the internal thoughts (depicted by an on stage six person chorus of Thoughts) of a young, black, gay character named Usher, who is struggling writing a musical about the struggle of writing a musical about himself - hence one of many loops in the show. I first experienced this exciting new work at Playwrights Horizons in 2019 when the role of Usher was played by Larry Owens. I loved the unapologetic audacity of the show and its themes, and found it to be both deeply thoughtful and entertaining. Although I thought the show needed some fine tuning, I was thrilled when it won the 2020 Pulitzer Prize for drama, an award that is not often bestowed on stage musicals.
I was a bit apprehensive about seeing the show again on Broadway when I heard that Larry Owens had left the production, as I would venture that the lead role is a very difficult one to cast and perform. But seeing the show at the Lyceum Theatre last week was a treat well beyond my expectations, because not only had the show gained focus and fluidity on its way to Broadway, but the new actor playing Usher, Jaquel Spivey, gave a performance that was not only richer and deeper, but he seemed to channel the show's core themes in a way I had not experienced previously. Without taking away any praise from Mr. Owens' fine work as Usher off-Broadway, I found Mr. Spivey's pitch perfect depiction of Usher's wounded vulnerability provided new layers of deep empathy in this work and its main character such that by the last song (the incredible summation song "A Strange Loop") I was in tears. By tapping into and exemplifying the deep empathy that flows from the audience to the stage, the changes made to "A Strange Loop" in its Broadway incarnation, not the least of which was adding Mr. Spivey's award deserving performance, this show has risen in my estimation from a very good musical to one of my all time favorites. I cannot wait to see it again, as it is now a show that you don't just watch, rather you feel it in the depths of your heart and soul.
Empathy is employed somewhat differently in Samuel D. Hunter's beautifully written and staged new two-hander "A Case For The Existence Of God" now at Signature Theatre. Here the empathy is depicted between the two on stage characters, Ryan (Will Brill) a mentally troubled, financially challenged Twin Falls, Idaho millennial and Keith (Kyle Beltran), a pent-up, gay, black, well educated mortgage broker who encounters Ryan at a day care facility for their respective daughters that leads to Ryan seeking Keith's help obtaining a mortgage. Over the time depicted in the play, as an audience we watch the growing rapport and deep wells of empathy develop between these two characters, and the on stage connections are palpable to the audience. Among the things I admire about Mr. Hunter's plays are their ability to tap into macro societal issues by means of micro explorations of characters, and that talent is on full display here. I find this wonderful addition to Mr. Hunter's body of theatrical work to be further evidence that Hunter is among finest playwrights of our time.
I saw Paula Vogel's Pulitzer winning drama "How I Learned To Drive" 25 years ago at off-Broadway's Vineyard Theater. While I appreciated Ms. Vogel's fine writing, the theme of the show (sexual abuse by a relative) was one that left me with an overwhelming sense of aversion for the wrongdoing uncle and his enabling wife. Manhattan Theatre Club's current Broadway revival of "How I Learned To Drive" incredibly stars the same 3 principal actors as the original production- namely Mary Louise Parker, David Morse and Johanna Day. Surprisingly, I thought all three actors were even better than I recalled. Perhaps it is a combination of the aging of the actors (and hence their characters) and the wisdom we have gained in our #MeToo era that enabled me on a revisit to this play to not be so overwhelmed by aversion to the abuse that I was able to experience a deeper sense of sadness and/or empathy for the play's characters. It is almost that with this play, the twenty five year time lapse between viewings enabled me to experience that time does indeed help to heal many wounds.
Among other shows I saw on my last visit to New York were a truly astounding, engrossing and of-the-moment "Cyrano de Bergerac" at Brooklyn Academy of Music featuring a tour de force performance of Cyrano by James McAvoy; a welcome return to Martin McDonagh's very funny and tightly written dark comedy "Hangmen"; an ambitious and splendidly staged revival of Thornton Wilder's "The Skin Of Our Teeth" that spins out of control in its second act; a lackluster and surprisingly obvious Tracey Letts political satire entitled "The Minutes"; a flaccid and dated revival of "Funny Girl"; and an early preview of Sarah Silverman's unfortunate "The Bedwetter," from which I could not run away fast enough.
