It’s Only a Play But It Means So Much
Terrence McNally knew, like so many working theatre artists do, that the joys of what happens on the boards are often counterbalanced by the rigors of commerce and the egotism of the participants. Thus, It’s Only a Play, set after a 2015 Broadway opening of playwright Peter Austin’s (Fox Carney) unfortunately named The Golden Egg, congregates its theatre lifers in the townhouse of producer Julia Budder (Mouchette van Helsdingen), who admits she chose the play because it had no swear words in it. Predictably, they’re all waiting for the reviews, while a raucous offstage party ensues. Austin’s former dear actor friend James Wicker (Todd Andrew Ball), who refused the lead role, has flown out from L.A., where his nine year reign on an inane sitcom may be ending.
The effusive congratulations, handed out like toothpicks at a BBQ joint, pile up though British wunderkind director Frank Finger (Peter Henry Bussian) actually is tired of always getting great reviews, and glamorous though aging actress Virginia Noyes (Cheryl David) has to wear an ankle monitor — McNally’s richest running gag — because of a murder she supposedly was responsible for. She’s also got a virtual pharmacy in her purse and when she asks Julia if she wants a hit, Virginia means cocaine, not a Tony Award.
A theatre wannabe who is hired help, young Gus P. Head (Joe Clabby) is unrepentantly optimistic, in direct contrast to theatre critic Ira Drew (Jeffrey Winner), who for most of the second act has food all over his tux from someone assaulting him downstairs for a previous bad review. McNally cleverly has the neuroses and selfishness of his characters mixed with their true love of the creative arts. He drops lots of show biz names, connected to the coats that Gus constantly lays across Julia’s bed. But director Larry Eisenberg has a wavering pace for this confection and not all his players fit the bill. Bussian is entirely too young to have won double digit Olivier Awards and his supposed accent seems mere affectation. Clabby is broad and puppyish, to the point of annoyance. Those who amuse while attaining a comedic reality include the aptly named Winner as a hangdog loser reviewer and especially David, whose foul-mouthed, drug-taking insecure diva is the highlight of this cast.
McNally’s smarts are only undercut by some unbelievable assumptions that insiders know would never happen on Broadway: There are no solo producers for the prohibitively expensive Great White Way, critics are not allowed to review work from which they leave early and it’s not the playwright who pulls the plug on a commercial disaster. Still, it’s only a comedy play and this from one gifted writer.
It’s Only a Play at Theatre 40, Beverly Hills. Thurs-Sat at 7:30, Sun at 2 through April 23.
