Review of: Buffalo Gal

In the stilted and contrived play, Buffalo Gal, Susan Sullivan manages to make her character breathe an honesty into the proceedings that enlivens the "there's-no-place-like-home" theme. That the work was penned by the usually gifted A.R. Gurney makes one wonder if this effort had a very brief time-line to be ready to begin Primary Stages' new season.

A well known film and television actress, Amanda, returns to her home town of Buffalo to star as Madame Ranevskaya in a regional theatre's production of Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard. Two problems arise for the theatre's director and company: 1) will the African-American actor hired to replace Amanda's friend who has pulled out of the production pass the test to play her brother (and please note that Amanda epitomizes the typical Gurney old-school WASP); 2) will the offer of a tempting television series scheduled to shortly begin filming lure Amanda out of her commitment to the theatre? Hard up for cash with a need to care for her drug-rehabilitated daughter and her new grandson, Amanda's temptation is a great one. On top of it all, Amanda's old home town flame arrives willing to divorce his wife to reignite his relationship for the woman he can never forget.

The fact that the circumstances of Amanda and Madame Ranevskaya directly and obviously parallel each other is not the problem here as one might expect it to be. Mr. Gurney's heartfelt yearnings about returning to one's roots ring out with the universal pangs of nostalgia. It is the rest of the play that is unabashedly contrived, stranding the actors on little islands of forced dialogue. As if to give the supporting actors some depth, Mr. Gurney throws them a meatless bone or two. The company director has a same-sex partner whom she wants to wed and the success of The Cherry Orchard for some reason would give Buffalo the go-ahead to okay it. The stage manager's parents are deaf so that the heady language of theatre enthralls him thus permitting himself to work for peanuts. The interning assistant stage manager is working on her theatre thesis and can spout off theatrical references and nuggets of Buffalo's history at the drop of one of the many pencils stuck into her hair-bun. All of this allows Mr. Gurney to wax ineloquently upon the country's sorry state of theatre arts and give out a thinly-veiled call for government funding.

Through no fault of their own, none of the performers, except for Ms. Sullivan, have anything substantial to portray. When they speak they sound like people trying too hard to land something that hasn't risen. As the old flame, Mark Blum, a kind of contemporary Lopahin, is able to avoid the embarrassment of the role but just. You can feel he knows he's got a losing proposition on his hands. Ms. Sullivan has the good fortune to be playing an actress so that she can afford to overdo the sentimentality and play up the obsequious novice bit entering the church of theatre. Her best moments not only involve the nostalgia of being back in Buffalo remembering her grandmother and her home (which, like the cherry orchard, is for sale), but also her actual scenes as Ranevskaya. Even the cheap joke or two, a rarity for Mr. Gurney, and Amanda's sketchy past get solid backing in Ms. Sullivan's capable hands.

The production values are serviceable as is Mark Lamos' direction. You can tell Mr. Lamos wasn't particularly gung-ho with the job. Mr. Gurney clearly laments the loss of the solid values that generations past engendered and how new generations feel lost in their search for something worthwhile. But unlike Chekhov, at least in this case, he spells it out like an old-time primer.

...end