I had very high hopes for this show. I enjoy Noel Coward, and I enjoy theatre that doesn't try to hide how theatrical it is. So I arrived at Studio 54 ready for a treat. Opening my Playbill, I found a page-long (!) director's note for what (as originally envisioned by Coward) was a one-act play. Whoa. I didn't read it out of principle. I don't really believe in director's notes, I believe that what you put on stage should pretty much speak for itself. If you feel your production needs an entire page of explanation for the audience to understand it, then you have already failed. So my excitement started to turn into trepidation as I tried to find a comfortable position in the hell that is the mezzanine of Studio 54. Why oh why do the rows of seats have to be so close together that you can't even put your legs in front of you?
The way they've configured the theater for the show, there is a little cafe section right in the front of the house. As the show was about to begin, a small band came out and began to play and sing. I saw a few costumed people making their way towards the cafe tables and began to wonder how these tables were going to be worked into the show. Would they seat audience members there like when Studio 54 was the Kit Kat Club for Cabaret? Would cast members watch the show from the cafe tables and jump on stage when needed? I could think of several possibilities to justify this hard to see little cafe, but, as it turns out, they were mainly there to languish... empty and useless. Except for the opening. Soon a couple appeared in the cafe as a movie began playing on the stage. Both the movie and the man in the cafe were calling out to the woman. Then, she went through the movie screen and appeared in the movie. Very clever! I started to believe that the show might overcome that director's note and become something I could recommend to my guests.
What I found however was a small show that was overburdened with theatrical concepts and playing in a house that was far to large for it. The theatrical trickery in the show was very charming, but it rarely served to enhance the story. More often it distracted by drawing attention away from the actual storytelling. It was like hanging three boxes of Christmas ornaments on a tiny twig, the basic framework couldn't support the mounds of crap that were piled on top of it. I can't really even speak much to the plot of the show since I was continuously distracted. Why are they singing? Why are they dancing now? Oooh, mylar confetti! Isn't projecting giant surging and crashing waves onto the back wall whenever the woman sees her lover a little too on the nose? Ostensibly, all of these strange happenings were meant to explain the feelings and emotional turmoil underneath the "stiff-upper lip" surface of the play, but isn't that what actors and acting are meant to do? Much like Enron the theatrical trappings seemed arbitrary. They could have just as easily been piled on to justify the cost of a Broadway ticket as to add any clarity to the story.
Overall, I was very disappointed. I can imagine Brief Encounter being much more enjoyable off- or off-off Broadway in a smaller house. It the cavernous Studio 54, it just felt too much like that little cafe in front of the audience... empty.
******** UPDATE **********
Since I wrote this, several friends have seen the show and loved it. It also got a really positive review in the New York Times from Ben Brantley. Perhaps I was just not in the right mood or frame of mind to appreciate this show. Perhaps the torturous seats of the balcony at Studio 54 proved too distracting. In any case, if you would like to see it for yourself, please click here to buy tickets.
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