ScheckOnTheater

The back story behind Being Harold Pinter is nearly as compelling as this powerful, politically themed show itself. Being presented by the Public Theater’s Under the Radar Festival, this production by the Belarus Free Theatre almost didn’t make it to these shores, thanks to the relentless persecution by that country’s repressive regime. The company members literally had to be smuggled out the country, arriving here only days before performances were scheduled to begin.

New York theatergoers are certainly the beneficiaries, as this harrowing 75-minute piece displays both well-realized thematic ambition and intellectual rigor.

Adapted and directed by Vladimir Scherban, the provocative work uses the late playwright’s texts to explore the nature of power and repression. Using excerpts from the plays Mountain Language, One for the Road, The Homecoming, Old Times, Ashes to Ashes and The New World Order as well as excerpts from his Nobel Prize acceptance speech and letters from Belarussian political prisoners, it provides a compelling argument that even Pinter’s early, seemingly non-political works have great relevance when it comes to exploring the dynamics of totalitarian regimes.

Performed in Russian--the English supertitles are unfortunately hard to read--by a seven-person ensemble, the piece includes many striking visual touches, such as the application of red paint on an actor’s forehead to suggest an injury once suffered by Pinter when he fell. At another point, the actors writhe helplessly under a plastic sheet in a not-so-subtle metaphor for artistic repression.

Although those not intimately familiar with Pinter’s works may find themselves adrift at times due to the sometimes confusing manner in which they have been excerpted, the vividness of the writing still comes through powerfully. And the physical commitment by the performers, not to mention the personal bravery exhibited by the travails they went through both to create the piece and bring it to America, is to be greatly admired. 

La MaMa, 74A E. 4^th St. 212-475-7710. www.lamama.org.

Put a wooden stake in it, it’s done.

The undead production of Dracula currently playing at the Little Shubert Theater is bad enough to put an end to the seemingly inexhaustible craze for all things vampire, that is, if anyone bothers to see it. Clearly hoping to cash in on the current frenzy engendered by True Blood, the Twilight series and the endless other examples of its ilk--not to mention older theatergoers’ fond memories of the superb 1977 production starring the sexily charismatic Frank Langella—this revival of Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston’s adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel falls short on all counts.

Resembling summer stock in its cheesy production values and mostly amateurish performances, this staging by director Paul Alexander runs a mere two hours, but feels as long as its titular character’s centuries-old existence. Granted, the play itself is quite old-fashioned, filled with talky exposition about the minutiae of vampire characteristics that we’ve all come to know by heart.

But there’s no doubt that the material could still work if done with any degree of flair, a quality that is sadly lacking here. Where to begin? The cheap looking sets, which seem made out of cardboard and contains gaps large enough to provide glimpses of stagehands scurrying in back (Willa Kim’s stylish costumes provide some compensation); the absurd use of classical music that makes one think that the proceedings are about to morph into ballet; the comical special effects, including “bats” flying about like errant kites.      

But the real problem is the performances. Emily Bridges’ Lucy is even more wan than the literally bloodless character should be, but the actress at least has an excuse: she was a last-minute replacement for original star Thora Birch. John Buffalo Mailer, as the unhinged, fly-eating sanitarium patient Renfield, seems to be amusing himself far more than anyone else, although he does have a nice bit when—aided by Flying by Foy—he crawls headfirst down a wall.

Timothy Jerome is reasonably professional as Dr. Seward, but the veteran George Hearn, as the vampire killer Van Helsing, mainly looks confused, as if wondering why in the world his agent got him into this mess.

And then there’s Michel Altieri as the bloodsucking count. A theater star in Italy, where he was apparently discovered by Luciano Pavarotti, the performer, sporting silly shoulder-length hair, is about as sexy and threatening as Christopher Walken’s “The Continental” character on Saturday Night Live. Barely intelligible with his heavy accent and fumbling all of the best-known lines (“I never drink…wine”), the young actor plays Dracula as if he was Eurotrash lounging around in a seedy disco.

Ah, well. This Dracula will undoubtedly soon be gone. But as we all know, the immortal character will undoubtedly rise again, hopefully under more felicitous theatrical circumstances.

Little Shubert Theater, 422 W. 42^nd St. 212-239-6200. www.Telecharge.com. Through Mar. 13.

A little bit of Las Vegas has arrived in New York for the holiday season. It takes the form of Donny & Marie: A Broadway Christmas, featuring the sibling performers who have nearly a century’s worth of show business experience between them. While watching this wonderfully cheesy and entertaining confection you can practically hear the whirring and squawking of slot machines nearby.

Although being sold as a holiday entertainment, the show is basically their standard act, with the addition of a handful of Christmas tunes.

It’s easy to see why Donny and Marie, unlike so many child stars of their generation, have continued to prosper in show business. They work hard, extremely hard, to give their audiences what they want. This elaborate production--which begins with the two performers emerging dramatically on risers while seemingly thousands of LED lights pop and the onstage rock band plays furiously--showcases their considerable talents to full advantage.

The brother and sister each take solo turns. Marie proudly demonstrates her vocal eclecticism by foraging into country (her hit “Paper Roses”); rock (“Would I Lie to You”), pop (“Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy”); show tunes (a Broadway medley that’s as exhausting to watch as it must be to perform) and even “opera” (“Pie Jesu” from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Requiem).

She also brings up a male volunteer from the audience for a steamy duet on “Blue Christmas” that in this case was enlivened by the recruit’s comic eagerness for both the close clinches and an impromptu vocal.

Then it’s Donny’s turn, with his now middle-aged female fans squealing with adolescent excitement. After an all-too-serious rendition of his 1989 pop hit “Soldier of Love,” he delivers a self-deprecating medley of his teen smashes like “Go Away Little Girl” and “Puppy Love.” (Observing his youthful self on a giant video screen, he jokes, “That’s Justin Bieber up there.”) He also performs “Any Dream Will Do” (from the show he toured in for years, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat) and the Osmonds’ atypically hard-rocking “Crazy Horses.”

The pair reunites for the final segment, featuring elaborate production numbers showcasing the dance moves they exhibited on their respective turns on Dancing With the Stars. A running gag has Donny proudly commenting on the fact that he won while his sister only managed to come in third.

For all the strenuous effort involved for most of the evening, the most charming moment comes towards the end, when the performers simply sit on stools and sing to a video montage of moments from their careers, including their variety and talk shows. Their kidding comic banter, scripted as it may be, has the relaxed feeling of genuine sibling affection.

Marquis Theater, 1535 Broadway. 877-250-2929. www.ticketmaster.com. Through Jan. 2.

A romantic triangle of sorts is explored in Edna O’Brien’s elusive and allusive new play, now making its U.S. premiere in a production imported from Manchester’s Royal Exchange Theatre. Featuring sterling performances by Niall Buggy, Beth Cooke and two-time Oscar nominee Brenda Blethyn (Secrets and Lies, Little Voice), Haunted  sacrifices clarity in favor of poeticism to detrimental effect.

A memory play whose events are apparently taking place in the mind of elderly widower Mr. Berry (Buggy), it depicts the relationship that develops between him and an innocent younger woman, Hazel (Cooke), who he hires for elocution lessons. In return for her services, he provides her with items of vintage clothing and jewelry that had belonged to his late wife.

Except that Mrs. Berry (Blethyn), who works as a supervisor in a doll factory—a profession all too obviously designed to make poignant the couple’s childlessness—is not quite dead. So she’s quite perplexed as her possessions gradually disappear, eventually confronting her hopelessly dithering, wandering husband.

The couple’s previously happy but now stagnant relationship is well delineated in such lines as when Mr. Berry describes his wife, at least in her younger days, as being “sturdy with remarkable thorns.”

The overly talky, mostly lifeless proceedings, filled with endless literary references ranging from Long Day’s Journey Into Night  to Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf  to Shakespeare, are made palatable only by the performances. Cooke is charming and beguiling as the younger woman; Buggy perfectly personifies a middle-aged house-husband whose long dormant intellectual and romantic passions have been rekindled only to once again be snuffed out; and Blethyn brings her trademark earthiness and honesty to her role as the long-suffering wife.

Although she’s written several plays, including Virginia, based on the life of Virginia Woolf, the Irish-born O’Brien is better known as a novelist. It’s hard not to think that this dense piece would have worked far better as prose.

59E59 Theaters, 59 E. 59th St. 212-279-4200. www.59e59.org.   

Does the world really need another 18th century British farce?

That question is fairly begged by the arrival of Nick Jones’ pastiche of a Restoration comedy that has opened courtesy of the Lincoln Center’s developmental initiative, LCT3. Aping its inspirations without adding anything contextually or thematically new to the mix, “The Coward” ultimately comes across as little more than an exercise in stylistic artifice.

Set in late 18th century England, the play concerns the misadventures of Lucidus Culling (Jeremy Strong), a foppish young man who lives up to his titular description. When he accidentally injures an old man and is challenged to a duel by the offended son, Lucidus is pressed to defend his family honor by his overbearing father (Richard Poe).

Too afraid to go through with it, he hires a macho criminal (the entertaining Christopher Evan Welch) to assume his identity. Predictable comic complications ensue, including the misplaced affections of a high-minded local beauty (Kristin Schall, of “The Daily Show” and “Flight of the Conchords”) and a body count that reaches bloodily alarming proportions.

Director Sam Gold has provided a wonderfully handsome production featuring an elegant drawing room set by David Zinn and superb costumes by Gabriel Berry. And there are some delicious comic moments to be sure, many of them provided by Jarlath Conroy’s priceless turns in several roles, including an ill-fated servant. But much like the grating falsetto voice that lead actor Strong has adopted for his role, “The Coward” quickly wears out its welcome.

Duke on 42^nd Street, 229 W. 42^nd St. 646-223-3010. www.Dukeon42.org.