L-R: Warren Kelley, John Long, Phil Gillen, Rachel Botchan.
Photo by Hunter Canning / @huntercanning.
By Eugene Paul
you’re a theatergoer who, some time ago, discovered the cornucopia of
offerings on Theatre Row, you’ve probably use the internet to find out what’s
playing. I’m going to make you nervous. Even though there’s not a clue as to
why the play is called what it is, the lucidity and coherence of the blurb for The
Property is its finest moment. The show, in person, is a shambles.
not as if we weren‘t warned from the first look. Caitlynn Barrett’s pretty
setting, those hung pieces indicating attic here, the endless projected picket
fence across the stage there, those four varied working doorways to nowhere,
and no walls at all. Inevitably, we see our actors go on and off, to and from
the void, to plonk in the middle space where a thick love seat and a thicker
chair facing us says living room. No matter the early security of the old
Sinatra sound track, all this trumpets an artistic decision to turn a
conventionally structured play into a “statement”. It doesn’t work.
Phil Gillen and Rachen Botchan.
though veteran director Robert Kalfin pitches his actors right off the bat at
high intensity: rebellious teen age son, Todd (splendid Phil Gillen),hapless
mom, Irene (Rachel Botchan), it’s confusion. She wants him to meet his
biological father, Vernon (fine Sam Tsoutsouvas) . Now? After sixteen years of
total absence? (Vernon and Irene? Vernon and Irene? No, can’t be. What else
is going on?)
Sam Tsoutsouvas, John Long
husband, Eddie (excellent Warren Kelley) marvelously annoying as an ineffectual
Marxist, is not keen at all about such a meeting between Todd and his
capitalist father but Eddie’s book store salary and Irene’s back office bank
salary barely keep them afloat which is why Irene is renting out the cottage in
back of her house. To Greg, (John Long) a sort of drifty do-gooder teacher,
whose salary is so low the rent is a problem. (Er-hold on a moment: Irene is a
back office bank functionary? In straggly hair, bib overalls and
half-Wellies? With never a single bank functionary question about security?
Just how far back in the office? And just what is costume designer Gail
Cooper-Hecht projecting about Irene? Or is she?)
come to a head between Irene and her son, Todd, when he finds his mother and
the cottage tenant Greg, in a clinch, vile things are shouted and Todd goes off
in high dudgeon. A year later, vital, verbal Vernon is a frequent presence,
Eddie, having lost his book store job is now a uniformed security officer,
Marxism is dead, drinking is rearing its ugly head and Greg has been an awkward
tenant, moony about Irene. Irene ,now in a sun dress and flip flops and that
hair is still a back office bank functionary making ends meet. Sort of. And
comes crawling back, a heroin addict, desperately in need of help. And so is
playwright Josephson, whose bio indicates that he has a very successful day job
so that he can keep on writing plays and soap operas, thus, this rewarding
learning experience.. Already he has found out that while touching on Marxism,
Capitalism,, Parenting, Finance, Sex, Real Estate, all with no plot, walls or
backing, it is more strategic not to have an intermission which can be an
opportunity for audience members to decamp gracefully. (No such thing,
gracefully. Some try, anyway intermission or no intermission.)
now, he also sees that the sparkling, magnetic, enchanting leading lady he
envisioned is indispensable to the life of his play. Director Kalfin’s actors
work valiantly in spite of having to deal with the leading lady’s
uncomfortableness, which affects them all, she being the central focus.
Unfortunately – or fortunately -- she is also frequently inaudible.
is not to say there aren’t gems when she is not present. Warren Kelley, as
Eddie, racks up a marvelously spellbinding scene as speechlessly paralyzed
drunk, stunned by the appearance of J.J. (Matthew VanFagna), Todd’s friend who
has come to see him. We presume he’s Todd’s dealer. Yes, that, too.
At the Clurman Theatre, Theatre Row, 410 West 42nd Street. Tickets:
$40-$50. 212-239-6200. 100 min. thru July 14.