Review: The House of Blue Leaves

© Joan Marcus

In his revelatory production of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town, director David Cromer unearthed the darkness underlying a play that is usually presented as a paean to a more innocent America. He applies the same approach to the new Broadway revival of John Guare’s 1966 absurdist comedy The House of Blue Leaves, but with vastly diminished results. The production captures the desperation and pathos of the play’s troubled characters, but at the cost of the play’s humor.

 

This is yet another star-driven revival, albeit one with some pedigree. Ben Stiller plays the lead role of Artie Shaughnessy, the Queens zookeeper who dreams of making it big as a songwriter, and it’s something of a homecoming--he played the AWOL son Ronnie in the landmark 1986 Lincoln Center production, and his mother, Anne Meara, appeared in the play’s 1971 Off-Broadway premiere. He’s joined here by Edie Falco as Artie’s schizophrenic wife Bananas, and Jennifer Jason Leigh as Bunny, the downstairs neighbor with whom Artie plans to flee to California in pursuit of stardom.

 

As the play begins, we see Artie singing his terrible songs in a seedy bar while being pointedly ignored by the loud patrons. As he keeps desperately pleading for their attention, the scene seems to go on forever, and his pain becomes palpable. Unfortunately, it soon comes to be shared by the audience.

 

Guare’s play requires a delicate balance of tone to be successful, which director Jerry Zaks provided in the Lincoln Center revival. He was aided by a pitch-perfect cast: John Mahoney, who brought charm as well as pathos to Artie; Swoosie Kurtz, heartbreakingly moving as Bananas; and Stockard Channing, wonderfully funny as Bunny.

 

Here, the major cast members don’t seem to jell. Falco emphasizes Bananas’ emotional catatonia to such a degree that it simply becomes tedious. Leigh’s Bunny is all surface mannerisms with little of the charm that would entice anyone to run away with her. And Stiller, normally so adept at conveying passive-aggressive obnoxiousness, barely registers in the lead role.

 

Some compensation is provided by the supporting players, especially Alison Pill, who lives up to her last name with her endearingly daffy portrayal of the deaf Hollywood starlet who shows up at the apartment, and Halley Feiffer, as one of the trio of nuns who burst onto the premises hoping for a good vantage point to witness the impending arrival of the Pope. And Christopher Abbott, as the son who dreams of becoming famous by an act of terrorism, beautifully nails his hilarious monologue about auditioning for the role of Huckleberry Finn for his father’s childhood friend (Thomas Sadoski), now a big shot Hollywood director.

 

The evening walks a very fine line between wild comedy and tragedy, but director Cromer seems intent only on delivering the latter. On that level he succeeds, with the shocking climactic act of violence rendered with a visceral intensity. House of Blue Leaves has lost none of its relevance in its exploration of both ordinary souls living lives of not so quiet desperation and the irresistible allure of fame. But this overly muted rendition, while occasionally displaying moments of stunning theatricality, provides little of the sugar that would help its medicine go down.

 

Walter Kerr Theatre, 219 W. 48th St. 212-239-6200. www.Telecharge.com.