1960. Immigrants Ludovica Musculino (Alyssa Bresnahan) – think restrained Anna Magnani – and her abusive husband Nic (Michael Rispoli), cliché except for an undershirt, scrape by in a tenement apartment in Brooklyn. We learn nothing of Nic’s life outside home, but Luda has inadvertently captured the heart of Irish butcher, widower Albert Duffy (Erik Lochtefeld) from whom she gets attention and discreet support.
Faith in God having been severely tested, Luda now regularly “administers” and talks to onions (you heard me) attempting to regain exorcism in lost tears. Both people and objects emerge with symbol status.
The Muscalinos have three daughters. Tina, the eldest (Lilli Kay), denied education, works in a tile factory to help support the family. She’s lumpen, friendless and can’t read. Middle child Vita (Elise Kibler), is smart and outspoken. When we meet, she’s been exiled to a convent for defending 16 year-old Francesca (Jordyn DiNatale) against their violent father. Cesca’s crime? To chop her hair short. (Had Nic been aware his youngest is gay, he’d’ve probably killed her.) Vita endured a broken nose, several broken ribs, and a concussion. She will never forgive Nic. He, in turn, doesn’t allow her name to be mentioned in table grace.
Jordyn DiNatale, Alyssa Bresnahan, Juliet Brett
Luda’s steadfast love, despite objections to her husband’s behavior, is based on his “knowing who I was before I did.” She was 16 and naïve when they wed. The girls find her loyalty unfathomable. “You’re not a stupid woman,” Vita declares when allowed home for Christmas.
Dreams fill the hardscrabble apartment. Luda just wants peace. Vita intends to move out as soon as possible. Cesca has formulated plans to stow away to France with her inamorata, Albert’s daughter Connie (Juliet Brett). Tina, desperate for connection, accidentally makes a friend of saavy, fellow employee Celia (Shirine Babb) bonding under tragic circumstances.
The tragic circumstances, a shocking, beautifully manifest historical disaster, put everything into topspin. Was the event punishment from God? A parentheses of change engenders hope then dashed. Decisions are provoked.
Jordyn DiNatale and Michael Rispoli
This is a fairly well written kitchen sink drama, but misses the mark. Though characters manage to offer occasional humor, moments of specificity, and lots of familial devotion, everything is so formalized, we don’t care enough. The scope of the catastrophe is also hard to balance against outcome.
The company is fine, though an array of accents in attempt to show generational changes throws one. (Dialect Coach Stephen Gabis)
Of particular note are Jordyn DiNatale (Cesca) who reminds me of naturalistic Julie Harris in A Member of the Wedding, Shirine Babb who underplays Celia with skill and credibility, and Alyssa Bresnahan as the passionate, tightly wound Ludovica. The latter’s prayer scene in Act II is a gem.
Director Gordon Edelstein gives each daughter distinguishing expression and physicality. Well paced scenes move smoothly from one area of the permanent set to another. Two-handers are particularly well realized. The young lesbians, ostensibly too young for sexual encounter, display physical affection in a marvelously imaginative, almost balletic interlude. Fights Directed by Rick Sordelet and Christian Kelly-Sordelet are terrifically real.
Eugene Lee’s Set Design is minimal, evocative. Overhead indicators – signs for the tile factory, the butcher shop, Christ on the Cross, a stained glass window – work well without interfering. At one point Christmas lights vividly extend into the theater. (Note: when lights and garlands come down, the holiday tree oddly remains. A mistake?)
Fitz Patton’s excellent Sound Design provides both the subtle and alarming with equal skill. His music choices are perfect.
Photos by Joan Marcus
Opening: Elise Kibler, Lilli Kay, Jordyn DiNatale
Roundabout Theatre Company presents
Napoli, Brooklyn by Meghan Kennedy
Directed by Gordon Edelstein
Through September 3, 2017
Laura Pels Theatre
111 W 46th Street
Avoiding talk about religion and politics is prudent, particularly during a dinner party like the one we see in Disgraced that brings together four friends from very different ethnic and religious backgrounds. The setting is an upscale apartment on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, a balcony providing a spectacular view of the Chrysler building. Amir Kapoor (Nehal Joshi) is a corporate lawyer at a major firm who specializes in the lucrative work of mergers and acquisitions. His wife, Emily (Ivy Vahanian), is an artist whose career is about to take off. The dinner guests include Isaac (Joe Isenberg), a Jewish curator who is helping Emily with a new show, and his African-American wife, Jory (Felicia Curry), a fellow associate at Amir’s firm. The evening begins on a civil note, but before the main course is served, tempers flare, accusations fly, and violence erupts.
Ayad Akhtar has written a play for our times, one that delves into topics that most of us think about but rarely dare to voice our opinions upon. After seeing this play, chances are conversations will follow. And in our current political climate, that’s not a bad thing. Disgraced, winner of the 2013 Pulitzer Prize for drama, is the most-produced play of the 2015/16 theater season. Akhtar, a novelist and screenwriter, has obviously touched a nerve about what it means to be an American and if assimilation, particularly for Muslims, is ever really possible.
Samir Raval and Nehal Joshi
Amir and Emily are an odd couple, and not just because of the differences in their backgrounds. He was born in Pakistan and raised as a Muslim. But with his feet firmly planted in America, he’s left his religion behind, deriding Islam as an ancient religion out of place in the modern world. Emily is obviously American and not Muslim. However, she tends to romanticize Islam and even uses Islamic images in her artwork. (The set design includes one of Emily’s paintings over the fireplace.) Amir’s nephew, Abe Jensen (Samip Raval), is similarly conflicted about his origins, having changed his name after being born Hussein Malik. Yet Abe is determined to help an iman who has been arrested and asks Amir to help. Amir initially refuses, but when pressured by Emily, agrees. Although Amir doesn’t actually represent the iman, his name winds up in the newspapers, exposure that will damage his position at his firm.
The evening of the dinner party, Isaac arrives a half hour early, followed shortly by Jory. While Emily rushes to get dressed, Amir, after rudely admonishing Isaac for arriving ahead of schedule, grudgingly pours drinks and attempts to entertain his guests. The mixup in timing is the first indication that things are about to go awry.
Conversation over the fennel and anchovy salad begins innocently enough, but when talk turns to Amir’s involvement with the iman’s case, the discussion grows more heated. Akhtar’s dialogue is, at times, searing. The playwright has talked about how his own struggle with his identity, ethnically and religiously, inspired the play. While Amir has made accommodations to be accepted and succeed in mainstream America, when challenged, he finds himself defending Islam even excusing acts of violence, a moment which produced gasps from the audience.
Joe Isenberg,Felicia Curry, Ivy Vahanian, and Nehal Joshi
The other explosions have less to do with identity and more to do with the typical conflicts that erupt when hard-driving professionals compete for success in the board room and the bedroom. Amir receives bad news on both fronts. How much his cultural struggles contribute to the outcome becomes less important than how he will move ahead.
Arena Stage’s production benefits from strong direction by Timothy Douglas who also directed Arena’s King Hedley II. Confrontations between the actors, both verbal and physical, are staged for maximum effect. Pacing is impressive. At 90 minutes with no intermission, the action never flags and when the lights go down, the audience is left breathless.
The four actors are up to the challenges. As Amir, Joshi displays an impressive range, from a hard-hitting attorney at the top of his game, to someone who sees his dreams crash and burn. Emotions are conveyed, not only with facial expressions, but with body language. In the beginning he seems puffed up by his own importance; by the end, he seems deflated.
Vahanian goes toe-to-toe with Joshi, never backing down even when faced with her own wrong-doing. We watch her transformation from loving, idealistic wife, to a woman who can stand on her own and no longer needs to define herself as part of a multi-ethnic couple.
I found Curry’s performance most powerful. Her time on stage was less than the other actors, but she left such a strong impression that her absence was immediately felt. Isenberg’s character came off as the least likable, someone who was ready to cross even those closest to him in order to achieve his goals. As Abe/Hussein, Raval’s performance was telling, reflecting the conflict felt by so many young Muslim men who struggle to fit into a society that often targets them.
Set Designer Tony Cisek has created the quintessential Manhattan apartment for urban professionals. Even before Amir and Emily begin their first conversation, we understand their aspirations and life-style. Costumes by Toni-Leslie James are perfect, while lighting by Michael Gilliam and original compositions by sound designer Fitz Patton take us from scene to scene and heighten the emotional impact.
Disgraced is a provocative evening of theater. Don’t miss it.
Photos by C. Stanley Photography
Opening: Left to right, Joe Isenberg, Nehal Joshi, Ivy Vahanian and Felicia Curry
1101 Sixth Street SW