I’m in The Wall Street Journal this morning, reviewing Stephen Belber’s Match, which opened at the Plymouth Theatre last night. The play itself is somewhat uneven (though very funny), but Frank Langella’s performance is wonderful:
“Match” might have been written for the sole purpose of giving Mr. Langella a platinum-plated chance to flounce his stuff. No sooner does the curtain go up than he grabs the reins and gallops down a theatrical steeplechase that leads straight from outrageous bitchery to unadorned, heartfelt emotion. If Mr. Langella doesn’t own this play, then at least he’s got a thousand-year lease.
He’s so exciting, in fact, that “Match” comes off looking rather better than it really is. Not that Mr. Belber’s play is shoddy goods–far from it–but it’s possible to head for the subway thinking you’ve seen something other than a highly efficient tearjerker lightly sprinkled with honesty, a somewhat deceptive impression for which the star of the show deserves most of the credit.
Alas, you’re going to have to take my word for it, since “Match” is built around a series of surprises that critical etiquette forbids me to disclose. Were it a clunker, I might blow the gaff out of sheer spite, but it’s so entertaining that I wouldn’t dream of spoiling the fun. This much, however, I can say: Mr. Langella plays Tobi Powell, a first-class dancer turned second-class choreographer who now teaches at Juilliard and lives in a dingy, souvenir-crammed apartment far from the scenes of his flaming youth. Shy, mousy Lisa Davis (Jane Adams) and her regular-guy husband Mike (Ray Liotta) pay him a visit, ostensibly to interview him for Lisa’s dissertation about ballet in New York in the ’50s. Before long, though, the “interview” has morphed into an inquisition, Mike has revealed himself to be a raving homophobe who can no longer conceal his disgust at Tobi’s effeminacy, and…well, I’d better stop there….
No link, so to find out more–though not too much more–buy this morning’s Journal, turn to the “Weekend Journal” section, and give me the once-over.