#1
Posted: 2/23/08 at 6:07pm
Geeky Jean (Mary-Louise Parker) is writing a letter in a cafe when a ringing cell phone interrupts her. It belongs to Gordon (T. Ryder Smith), deceased. Jean answers the ringing phone and is sucked into his world, and digs herself in deeper with every lie she tells to make his family (Kathleen Chalfant, Kelly Maurer, David Aaron Baker) feel better.
This is the plot, in a nutshell, of Sarah Ruhl's newest work, Dead Man's Cell Phone, now playing at Playwrights Horizons. Ruhl, no stranger to imaginitive fantasy, takes the audience on a journey, as usual, this time to Hell and back, with stops in a cafe, a stationary store's closet, and South Africa. And while the play isn't the best thing since sliced bread, it's certainly a delightful evening of loveable fluff.
Mary-Louise Parker is a luminous Jean, and really makes "Geek Chic" work. She carries the show with great flair, except for a mannered post-nasal drip accent which adds nothing but frustration on the part of the audience.
Kathleen Chalfant is at the top of her game, and, with one phrase, grabs the audience in the palm of her hand and teaches a master class in the art of the comic delivery and the proper ways to play unbearable sadness.
T. Ryder Smith is frightening as Gordon, the dead man of the title, and delivers one of the most brilliant monologues in recent memory at the top of the second act (as he's cut off at the end of the first).
Strong supporting performances from David Aaron Baker, Kelly Mauer, and Carla Harding.
Ruhl's play doesn't say much, there's no profound statement, just a lot of questions as to why people feel a need to become voyeurs when it comes to talking on cell phones. The play mirrors The Clean House, in terms of the great journey to find the object that will lead to absolution (in this case, a Kidney), and the dialogue is just as poetic.
Anne Bogart is a great match for Ruhl's work. A longtime collaborator of Charles Mee, Bogart is known for her thought-provoking productions, and this is no different. To say anything more would undoubtedly reveal spoilers, and I don't want to. I will say that the way the first act ends is one of the most ingenious things I've seen in a long time.
A very nice, spare set by GW Mercier, appealing costumes by Mercier, as well. Haunting lighting by Brian H. Scott. But the show really comes alive with the Darron L. West's dazzling "soundscape."
Perhaps the funniest - and most ironic - moment of Dead Man's Cell Phone happened even before the show began. I was standing in the lobby, picking up my ticket when I happened to see Ms. Parker arrive. She was yammering away on her cell phone, not seeming to realize that there were people in the lobby who were within earshot of the conversation.
In the show, Jean delivers a speech about something very true: Do people talk loudly on their cell phones in public because they think they're the only ones in the universe, or, is it because they want everyone else to hear it? Just made me laugh, knowing what I had seen.
If anyone wants spoilers about the show, please PM me. I'll be happy to reveal.
This is the plot, in a nutshell, of Sarah Ruhl's newest work, Dead Man's Cell Phone, now playing at Playwrights Horizons. Ruhl, no stranger to imaginitive fantasy, takes the audience on a journey, as usual, this time to Hell and back, with stops in a cafe, a stationary store's closet, and South Africa. And while the play isn't the best thing since sliced bread, it's certainly a delightful evening of loveable fluff.
Mary-Louise Parker is a luminous Jean, and really makes "Geek Chic" work. She carries the show with great flair, except for a mannered post-nasal drip accent which adds nothing but frustration on the part of the audience.
Kathleen Chalfant is at the top of her game, and, with one phrase, grabs the audience in the palm of her hand and teaches a master class in the art of the comic delivery and the proper ways to play unbearable sadness.
T. Ryder Smith is frightening as Gordon, the dead man of the title, and delivers one of the most brilliant monologues in recent memory at the top of the second act (as he's cut off at the end of the first).
Strong supporting performances from David Aaron Baker, Kelly Mauer, and Carla Harding.
Ruhl's play doesn't say much, there's no profound statement, just a lot of questions as to why people feel a need to become voyeurs when it comes to talking on cell phones. The play mirrors The Clean House, in terms of the great journey to find the object that will lead to absolution (in this case, a Kidney), and the dialogue is just as poetic.
Anne Bogart is a great match for Ruhl's work. A longtime collaborator of Charles Mee, Bogart is known for her thought-provoking productions, and this is no different. To say anything more would undoubtedly reveal spoilers, and I don't want to. I will say that the way the first act ends is one of the most ingenious things I've seen in a long time.
A very nice, spare set by GW Mercier, appealing costumes by Mercier, as well. Haunting lighting by Brian H. Scott. But the show really comes alive with the Darron L. West's dazzling "soundscape."
Perhaps the funniest - and most ironic - moment of Dead Man's Cell Phone happened even before the show began. I was standing in the lobby, picking up my ticket when I happened to see Ms. Parker arrive. She was yammering away on her cell phone, not seeming to realize that there were people in the lobby who were within earshot of the conversation.
In the show, Jean delivers a speech about something very true: Do people talk loudly on their cell phones in public because they think they're the only ones in the universe, or, is it because they want everyone else to hear it? Just made me laugh, knowing what I had seen.
If anyone wants spoilers about the show, please PM me. I'll be happy to reveal.
Updated On: 2/23/08 at 06:07 PM
