
Jean Smart and John Krasinski in solo shows that illustrate the gender wars
NEW YORK — A dramatic faceoff of Judith Butler proportions is underway on New York stages, where a pair of star vehicles is condemning the tyranny of conventional gender roles from each side of the divide.
Depending whom you ask, men and women are both in trouble. Several waves of feminism have decried the injustices facing the latter: subjugation under patriarchy with fallouts that range from unequal pay to death. Enter 'Hacks' star Jean Smart in 'Call Me Izzy,' as a hothouse flower whose artistic aspirations are suffocated by her unseen ogre of a husband. Pressure to escape the trailer park is paramount.
Meanwhile, rumblings that began on the dark web and are now broadcast on something called the manosphere have reached the opposite conclusion: It's men whose well-being is threatened under the current regime, one that the red-pilled nice guy played by John Krasinski in 'Angry Alan' calls 'the gynocracy.' That would be a world governed in deference to women that ignores men's loneliness and insecurities while demanding they be heroes and moneymakers. (Straight people are a trip.)
Arguments anchoring each end of this age-old tug-of-war are everywhere. Throw in the economic appeal of producing celebrity solo shows, and it's no wonder the debate is being hashed out on Midtown stages. Despite their opposing perspectives, they present the actors with identical challenges — proving that vulnerability is the ultimate common ground.
The familiarity of domestic violence narratives allows for a naturalistic approach — Izzy, in all her delicacy and emotional candor, would be impossible not to root for. A few minutes with Smart's graceful, fluttering narrator, as she toils and daydreams on the can, and you would practically kill for her. A Louisiana belle who was married by 17, Izzy spills with dishy Southern talk, sweeter than gossip but with the same conspiratorial flavor.
Call this corner of her modest digs 'A Bathroom of One's Own.' It's where she hides out to scrawl poetry on toilet paper, using the hamper as a desk and stashing reams of words in a box of Tampax. Dressed in a plush teal bathrobe, her face framed with frizzy golden curls, she recalls reciting Joyce Kilmer's 'Trees' in a childhood pageant and falling in love with 'mind pictures,' a phrase she borrows from Zora Neale Hurston. Of course, Izzy's husband wouldn't approve of her literary pursuits, and this being a drama, he's bound to find out.
The world premiere from playwright Jamie Wax, who's also a correspondent for CBS News, treads sensitive but familiar territory. The plight of a woman's authorship curtailed has been covered with much greater sophistication elsewhere — including in previous centuries, by women writers themselves. The appeal of this borderline Southern Gothic production, from director Sarna Lapine, lies entirely with its beguiling star.
Smart, returning to Broadway after some 25 years, brings astonishing clarity and depth to the part. Spinning an enticing yarn from shopworn material — the action is set in 1989, when it may have struck a modern tone — she delivers a performance that feels deceptively featherlight while demonstrating total command. She lends Izzy's tin-eared poetry a soaring lyricism and Wax's trope-heavy script the texture of a character study. Every expression feels alive, and the sum total is transfixing.
'Angry Alan,' the first show at the newly christened Studio Seaview off-Broadway, takes a different tack. Written by Penelope Skinner and created with Donald Sage Mackay, the show is premised on the fact that engendering compassion for a man in need is a trickier prospect. Especially when that man has plunged down a slippery wormhole into an online realm led by a man-fluencer named Angry Alan. Here, male grievances — many of them legitimate — assume a sour cast by turning the blame on women.
It's true that men are in crisis. Among the dilemmas cited by Roger, a cheery everyman not unlike Krasinski's character on 'The Office,' are elevated rates of suicide and 'a period of unprecedented uncertainty' that's confused men about their place in the culture and at home. Given that men are not, as the stereotype goes, particularly forthcoming with expressing emotion, the gag is that Roger has the audience as his unlikely confessor. Skinner and Mackay, who premiered the show at the 2018 Edinburgh Festival Fringe in Scotland, set out an uneasy game in which Roger flips, repeatedly and on a dime, from relatable to revolting.
Roger is an avatar, a stand-in for 'you know the type,' in this exploration of a sociological problem, directed with shadowy, uncanny undertones by Sam Gold. (The setup is not unlike Young Jean Lee's 'Straight White Men,' which played Broadway in 2018.) Roger has particulars — an ex-wife, who glowers down from the conference-like projections, a big-shot job that ended badly at AT&T (he now works at Kroger) and a new girlfriend who's recently (and conveniently, plot-wise) undergone a feminist awakening. Even as he buys into Alan's dark talk, Roger is posited as a generic good-natured dude trying to get by.
So it goes that by design, Krasinski mostly plays mild-mannered, which fans know he's ideally suited for. Though they won't be disappointed here, Krasinski is better when he gets more to do, such as voicing Roger in conversation with his girlfriend, who's bewildered by his slide into men's rights. In the end, Roger's fixation on the double binds of masculinity faces a provocative test (which I won't spoil here) that snaps the whole play into focus. It's an affecting shift, but the stakes might have been clarified sooner.
At the heart of 'Angry Alan' is the tension between how Roger really feels — the suffering he admits he's long buried inside — and the sturdy exterior he's been conditioned to wear as a mask. The difference in consequence between the two stories comes down to that adage about men, like Alan, being afraid that women will laugh at them. Women like Izzy, on the other hand, put on a pleasant face to avoid a far worse fate.
Call Me Izzy, through Aug. 17 at Studio 54 in New York. 90 minutes without an intermission. callmeizzyplay.com.
Angry Alan, through Aug. 3 at Studio Seaview in New York. 85 minutes without an intermission. studioseaview.com.
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That would be a world governed in deference to women that ignores men's loneliness and insecurities while demanding they be heroes and moneymakers. (Straight people are a trip.) Arguments anchoring each end of this age-old tug-of-war are everywhere. Throw in the economic appeal of producing celebrity solo shows, and it's no wonder the debate is being hashed out on Midtown stages. Despite their opposing perspectives, they present the actors with identical challenges — proving that vulnerability is the ultimate common ground. The familiarity of domestic violence narratives allows for a naturalistic approach — Izzy, in all her delicacy and emotional candor, would be impossible not to root for. A few minutes with Smart's graceful, fluttering narrator, as she toils and daydreams on the can, and you would practically kill for her. A Louisiana belle who was married by 17, Izzy spills with dishy Southern talk, sweeter than gossip but with the same conspiratorial flavor. Call this corner of her modest digs 'A Bathroom of One's Own.' It's where she hides out to scrawl poetry on toilet paper, using the hamper as a desk and stashing reams of words in a box of Tampax. Dressed in a plush teal bathrobe, her face framed with frizzy golden curls, she recalls reciting Joyce Kilmer's 'Trees' in a childhood pageant and falling in love with 'mind pictures,' a phrase she borrows from Zora Neale Hurston. Of course, Izzy's husband wouldn't approve of her literary pursuits, and this being a drama, he's bound to find out. The world premiere from playwright Jamie Wax, who's also a correspondent for CBS News, treads sensitive but familiar territory. The plight of a woman's authorship curtailed has been covered with much greater sophistication elsewhere — including in previous centuries, by women writers themselves. The appeal of this borderline Southern Gothic production, from director Sarna Lapine, lies entirely with its beguiling star. Smart, returning to Broadway after some 25 years, brings astonishing clarity and depth to the part. Spinning an enticing yarn from shopworn material — the action is set in 1989, when it may have struck a modern tone — she delivers a performance that feels deceptively featherlight while demonstrating total command. She lends Izzy's tin-eared poetry a soaring lyricism and Wax's trope-heavy script the texture of a character study. Every expression feels alive, and the sum total is transfixing. 'Angry Alan,' the first show at the newly christened Studio Seaview off-Broadway, takes a different tack. Written by Penelope Skinner and created with Donald Sage Mackay, the show is premised on the fact that engendering compassion for a man in need is a trickier prospect. Especially when that man has plunged down a slippery wormhole into an online realm led by a man-fluencer named Angry Alan. Here, male grievances — many of them legitimate — assume a sour cast by turning the blame on women. It's true that men are in crisis. Among the dilemmas cited by Roger, a cheery everyman not unlike Krasinski's character on 'The Office,' are elevated rates of suicide and 'a period of unprecedented uncertainty' that's confused men about their place in the culture and at home. Given that men are not, as the stereotype goes, particularly forthcoming with expressing emotion, the gag is that Roger has the audience as his unlikely confessor. Skinner and Mackay, who premiered the show at the 2018 Edinburgh Festival Fringe in Scotland, set out an uneasy game in which Roger flips, repeatedly and on a dime, from relatable to revolting. Roger is an avatar, a stand-in for 'you know the type,' in this exploration of a sociological problem, directed with shadowy, uncanny undertones by Sam Gold. (The setup is not unlike Young Jean Lee's 'Straight White Men,' which played Broadway in 2018.) Roger has particulars — an ex-wife, who glowers down from the conference-like projections, a big-shot job that ended badly at AT&T (he now works at Kroger) and a new girlfriend who's recently (and conveniently, plot-wise) undergone a feminist awakening. Even as he buys into Alan's dark talk, Roger is posited as a generic good-natured dude trying to get by. So it goes that by design, Krasinski mostly plays mild-mannered, which fans know he's ideally suited for. Though they won't be disappointed here, Krasinski is better when he gets more to do, such as voicing Roger in conversation with his girlfriend, who's bewildered by his slide into men's rights. In the end, Roger's fixation on the double binds of masculinity faces a provocative test (which I won't spoil here) that snaps the whole play into focus. It's an affecting shift, but the stakes might have been clarified sooner. 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