| Review A Feminine Ending
Peter J Sharp Theater
416 West 42nd St
October 19, 2007
Morgan Wycks
mwycks@nyconstage.org
There is so much wrong with the first 60 minutes of Sarah Treem's A Feminine Ending that the following 30 minutes seem brilliant in contrast, but believe me, they're not. One seriously must question Playwrights Horizons' literary selection committee for allowing a full production of play not ready for viewing even if the playwright might show some potential.
Like the playwright, the main character, Amanda (Gillian Jacobs), shows potential for a career in the arts, in this case as a symphonic composer - a rarity in the music world. The word 'genius' gets tossed around a lot, mostly by her parents, Kim (Marsha Mason) and David (Richard Masur). As young life would have it, other matters cross Amanda's path, like nabbing the catch of the Julliard student body, Jack (Alec Beard). He is about to become a rock star of major proportions, at least if his agent has anything to say about it, but until such time, Amanda must become the bread winner in their relationship and so she sells herself out by writing commercial jingles. In the meantime, Kim is having a mid-life crisis rather late in life and decides to leave her husband and pursue the career she gave up to be a wife and mother. It seems she had a talent for painting. When Amanda goes to talk sense into her mother's head, she reconnects to her high school boyfriend, the weird and wacky Billy (Joe Paulik) who is now a postman. There are no surprises by the end of this little life-study, not that there have to be, but jeez, talk about being way ahead of the author.
The title for the play comes from Amanda's study of language and discovering how many native tongues divide vocabularies into masculine or feminine, feminine words and their derivatives being diminutive, weak, soft and relegated to the back. So both Amanda's and Kim's dreams are being shunted aside and thereby rendering the two of them I guess, to lives with feminine endings. The problem with Ms. Treem's play, besides being crushingly precious, is that we've heard it all before from writers with clearer purposes, insights and arguments. Not until David securely arrives late in the play with his live-learn-and-move-on attitude does Ms. Treem's writing begin to take on a modicum of weight. It helps that Mr. Masur has found a quirky, yet regretful, manner in which to play dear old Dad.
The other actors struggle not to embarrass themselves and to their credit they don't - embarrass themselves that is. As David, Mr. Beard is completely miscast and so the first third of the play makes little sense. As Billy, Mr. Paulik doesn't always escape "the cutes" (how could he?) and at least gives an inkling as to why women are attracted to men like their fathers. Poor Ms. Mason is saddled with a plethora of clichés but she gets her job done efficiently by never condescending to the role. Ms. Jacobs plays most of her scenes on the verge of tears as if this emotional life might lend some heft to her shallow existence, but it's a choice that works against her in the end.
Theatre companies, like political players, really shouldn't hire people as favors but more about that topic at another time. Let's just say that actress Blair Brown, now with a director's hat, decides to take a relatively clumsy play and make it even clumsier. First, there's way too much scenery where sets get changed with alarming awkwardness. For a play about music and its fluidity, this is a misstep of gigantic proportions. Even during the love duet between Amanda and Billy, the depiction of an orchard arrives behind them, in the abstract no less, even though the characters reference it as being in front of them. The mother/daughter phone calls early in the play have Ms. Mason continually running on and off stage right with a phone in her hand as if she's training for a marathon. Can't she just perch somewhere on stage? And though it spares us a set change, do people really bring their luggage and all the clothes they're going to pack out of the bedroom and into the living room to accomplish said task? Ms. Brown, an economical actress, needs to bring that asset to her directing.
I don't want to smash Ms. Treem's dreams of being a playwright, but like her heroine, perhaps she should sell out and consider writing for sitcoms.
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