Well, Did What’s-His-Name Like It?
— October 9, 2014 1 6Well, Did What’s-His-Name Like It?
By BEN BRANTLEYOCT / The New York Times
“It’s Only a Play”: From left, Rupert Grint, Megan Mullally, Matthew Broderick, Nathan Lane and Stockard Channing in Terrence McNally’s ribald play at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theater. Sara Krulwich/The New York Times
Big names drop like hailstones in Terrence McNally’s “It’s Only a Play,” the kind that look like diamonds from a distance and then melt away before you know it. As a star-struck young man observes at the beginning of this deliriously dishy revival, which opened Thursday night at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theater (and is about a tense opening night of a play at the Ethel Barrymore Theater), “This place is crawling with famous people.”
He’s referring to a noisy party that’s happening downstairs. But he might as well be talking about the comedy in which he appears, which is directed with gusto by Jack O’Brien.
One of the reasons that “It’s Only a Play” is already a gold-mining hit is its unblushing willingness to play the fame card as an ace that can’t be beaten. As any of the pseudo-cynical, theater-obsessed characters in this work from the 1980s — which has been strategically rewritten by Mr. McNally — might point out, “That’s Broadway today, baby.”
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From left, Megan Mullally, Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick in the revival of Terrence McNally’s comedy.‘It’s Only a Play’ Replaces Topical 1980s Punch LinesOCT. 3, 2014
The list of celebrities starts with the show’s cast members, whose biographies glitter with Tonys, Emmys, a box-office-bonanza film franchise and an Oscar. They include Broadway’s most popular bromancers, Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick, along with Stockard Channing, Megan Mullally (of “Will and Grace”), Rupert Grint (of the “Harry Potter” movies) and F. Murray Abraham. Then there are the many, many other well-known names that pepper the dialogue to keep it from tasting bland.
Posing for a selfie, from left: F. Murray Abraham, Stockard Channing, Matthew Broderick, Rupert Grint, Nathan Lane, Megan Mullally and Micah Stock in “It’s Only a Play.” Sara Krulwich/The New York Times
Among them are Denzel Washington, Bill DeBlasio, Bill Gates, Scott Rudin, Shia LaBeouf, Faye Dunaway, Tommy Tune, Bernadette Peters, Lady Gaga, Tom Stoppard, Steven Spielberg, Betty Buckley, Liza Minnelli and Pope Francis. Since nomenclature often equals punch lines in this production, I will limit myself to just a few examples of how such names are used in sentences.
“Who is James Franco, and why is he sexting me?”
“I won’t work with animals, children or Frank Langella.”
“I said to one woman, ‘You look just like Hillary Clinton.’ And she said: ‘I hope so. I am Hillary Clinton.’ ”
There is also another, less famous name that is bandied about. That’s Ben Brantley, the theater critic for The New York Times whose review of the play in “It’s Only a Play” is being anxiously awaited. This character is described in terms that are mostly unprintable here. But he clearly bears little resemblance to the critic who has written the review you are reading now.
O.K., so maybe he does. But I still find it hard to take the references too personally. For one thing, the self-important, vitriolic Mr. Brantley is treated no more harshly than the self-important, vitriolic characters onstage. For another, the review by Ben Brantley that is read aloud in the second act is pretty much the same review that was heard in the 1986 Manhattan Theater Club production.
At that time, though, the name of the critic was Frank Rich, one of my predecessors in this job. And if “It’s Only a Play” is revived in another 30 years — and if The Times still exists — the name of my descendant will surely be used to fill in the blank. Perhaps it will be Tavi Gevinson, the 18-year-old polymathic actress and blogger, currently appearing on Broadway in “This Is Our Youth.”
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As you may have gathered, spending two and a half hours in the company of “It’s Only a Play” (which is roughly an hour too long) tends to leave you speaking in boldface.
Mr. Rich’s name, by the way, is not only the one for which a substitution has been found. Shirley MacLaine has made way for Rosie O’Donnell (sorry, Shirley), while Kelly Ripa (whose encounter with the dog of the producer figures prominently in the plot) is substituted for Arlene Francis. Harvey Fierstein is now cited instead of Charles Nelson Reilly in a slur on the masculinity of Nathan Lane’s character, who says he would rather be compared even to Nathan Lane.
The language that surrounds these names is often bluer than it was in the original script. And after every foul-mouthed attack on a celebrity, the audience roars with the delighted pretend-shock that used to greet the dearly departed Joan Rivers’s skewering of the badly dressed on “Fashion Police.”
Such improper proper-noun-slinging probably goes down better now than it did three decades ago. In the intervening decades, we the people have been feasting more and more on journalism, reality shows, stand-up comedy and websites that are devoted to deglamorizing the glamorous, presenting them as folks whom we feel we know more intimately than we do our next-door neighbors.
Getting the jokes allows the audience to preen itself on being with the insiders. This is especially true for those meta-theatrical jokes that make nudging reference to the cast and creators of this production. Mr. Lane, playing a former stage star who is now in a television sitcom, gets to name-check one of his own Broadway vehicles, saying, “What do I know? I liked ‘The Addams Family.’ ”
Mr. Lane’s performance was the best reason to see that unfortunate musical. And his portrayal here of James Wicker — the best friend of the playwright of “Play,” Peter Austin (Mr. Broderick) — is sterling. He and Ms. Channing — who is hilarious as a washed-up, substance-and-plastic-surgery-abusing Hollywood star — give the show a sheen and a heart it might otherwise lack.
Ms. Mullally is rather endearing as a clueless but kind rich-lady producer in whose deluxe townhouse (designed by Scott Pask) the show is set. Mr. Abraham seems to be enjoying himself as a mean old critic who really just wants to belong to the club. Micah Stock (whose name in the ads is quaintly prefaced by “and introducing”) is charming as a hatcheck boy with Broadway dreams.
Mr. Grint is a bit too overcharged as a wunderkind director out of Britain, and Mr. Broderick a bit too undercharged as the beleaguered playwright. They might benefit from reciprocal blood transfusions.
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But all the cast members fulfill their raisons d’être, which is to sling a whole lot of mud in the nicest possible way. As for Mr. McNally’s play itself (as opposed to Peter Austin’s), it mostly has the depth of a shot glass (and I mean that in the nicest possible way). It is to Broadway what Neil LaBute’s “The Money Shot,” downtown at the Lucille Lortel Theater is to Hollywood — an R-rated sitcom satire with some very funny jokes.
Mr. McNally’s play is a bit more old-fashioned, perhaps, but then so is the theater, God bless it. And for all its topical revisions, his script hasn’t kept pace with the times in one significant way.
What suspense there is here involves the characters’ waiting for the reviews to see if their show will survive. “It’s Only a Play” is already all but sold out. This is in large part because of the kind of celebrity presence that the script takes so many shots at. It must be sweet for Mr. McNally, whose own fortunes in the theater have zigzagged dramatically, to be able to have his cake and spit it out, too.
It’s Only a Play
By Terrence McNally; directed by Jack O’Brien; sets by Scott Pask; costumes by Ann Roth; lighting by Philip Rosenberg; sound by Fitz Patton; hair, wigs and makeup design by Campbell Young Associates; theatrical supervision by Hudson Theatrical Associates; production stage manager, Jane Grey; company manager, Doug Gaeta; general manager, Richards/Climan. Presented by Tom Kirdahy, Roy Furman, Ken Davenport, Hunter Arnold, Morris Berchard and Susan Dietz, Caiola Productions, Carl Daikeler, Jim Fantaci, Wendy Federman, Barbara Freitag and Lorraine Alterman Boyle, Hugh Hayes, Jim Herbert, Ricardo F. Hornos, Stephanie Kramer, LAMS Productions, Scott Landis, Mark Lee and Ed Filipowski, Harold Newman, Roy Putrino, Sanford Robinson, Tom Smedes and Peter Stern, and Brian Cromwell Smith. At the Gerald Schoenfeld Theater, 236 West 45th Street, Manhattan, 212-239-6200, telecharge.com. Through Jan. 4. Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes.
WITH: F. Murray Abraham (Ira Drew), Matthew Broderick (Peter Austin), Stockard Channing (Virginia Noyes), Rupert Grint (Frank Finger), Nathan Lane (James Wicker), Megan Mullally (Julia Budder) and Micah Stock (Gus P. Head).
Reference: The New York Times
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