Review
Frank's Home
Playwright's Horizon
January 31, 2007

VanLoan

vanloan@nyconstage.org


Richard Nelson's latest play Frank's Home deals with one of the greatest architects of the 20th century: Frank Lloyd Wright. Among his architectural achievements are Fallingwater, a private residence in southern Pennsylvania, the Guggenheim Museum in NYC and many of the buildings in the Florida Southern College complex. A difficult, cantankerous visionary, Wright's relationships with clients and family were famously complicated and often alienating. Mr. Nelson tries to capture some of this complexity in this bio-drama of a play. Considering the subject matter, it's sad to report the work is a tepid, boring affair.

Set in California in the summer of 1923, Wright (Peter Weller) has just returned from Japan where he has finished the latest "wonder of the world"; the Tokyo Imperial Hotel. Rather than return to his home base in Chicago; he and long time mentor Louis Sullivan (Harris Yulin) go out west in search of a little rest and recreation. Wright's estranged son and daughter are living out there and he feels the slim hope of a possible reconciliation taking place. Also traveling in Wright's entourage is his current mistress Miriam Noel (a whiny Mary Beth Fisher).

Unfortunately, what Nelson comes up with is a dreary tale of family resentments and dysfunction suitable for a daytime soap opera. Frank apparently cheated on his wife and ignored his children. His genius required him to be "wedded" to his work; the global architectural forum was his true family. His adult children are bitter and indignant at the halfhearted rationales for his behavior; yet yearn for the slightest show of affection (both Jay Whittaker as Lloyd, Jr. and Maggie Siff as daughter Catherine are given nothing but broad stereotypes to play). Peter Weller, a fine actor, tries desperately to pump some life into this dull, one dimensional portrait of an emotionally abusive father but more often than not just grows more vocally fractious. Only Harris Yulin as the alcoholic Sullivan who yearns for the creative spark to flourish again comes off with any significance or dignity. The play is heavily researched (numerous academic sources are acknowledged) so much of what is on stage could well be truthful. It's Nelson's uninspired dialogue and tedious dramatics that kill the evening (a 20 minute tirade about one of Wright's more difficult clients totally takes the air out of the later half of the piece). One would be better off going to Wikipedia to find out about the fascinating, self-absorbed genius of Frank Lloyd Wright.

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