And already,
I’m deviating from my chronological order, but I’ve decided to make exceptions
for anything new coming out, and I saw a performance of this limited-run
revival two nights ago. I’ll get back to
Andrew Rannells’s season 1 episodes of Girls
next week – this one can’t wait!
Written
50 years ago, The Boys in the Band
gives us a window into a single night of a group of gay men in a New York City
apartment in 1968. Host Michael has
assembled the usual suspects to celebrate the birthday of his friend Harold,
but the party shows signs of going off the rails even before the unexpected
arrival of the uninitiated Alan, Michael’s old college roommate who doesn’t
know about the life Michael leads. As
the night wears on, quips become barbs, discomfort becomes hostility, and
Michael becomes his own worst enemy, urging his friends into a shockingly
ill-conceived party game that puts all their emotional vulnerabilities on
display.
I’ll
start with the play itself, which I’d previously heard of but didn’t know much
about. The play shares a resemblance
with Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?,
gathering together a collection of contrasting personalities, letting the
tension simmer, and waiting for the inevitable disaster. It’s almost startling to see a gay-themed
story from the past that predates HIV, just as its pre-Stonewall sensibilities
feel conspicuous. This is a group of men
whose lives are both pathologized and criminalized, whose internalized
homophobia fuels their psychiatry sessions along with the cutting remarks they
make about each other. While now, during
Pride month in the 2st century, some of what we see feels dated, stereotypes
and attitudes best left retired, the production and performers bring a sense of
immediacy to the proceedings and imbue the characters with a recognizable, if
often vicious, truth.
The fact that
the entire cast, headed by Hollywood names, is composed of out actors has
certainly gotten its share of promotion, deservedly so. While the play exists outside of that, of
course, there’s something special about watching a whole collection of actors
onstage together playing gay characters, knowing that none of them are fielding
interview questions about what it’s like to “play gay.”
The real
big-ticket names here are Jim Parsons as Michael and Zachary Quinto as
Harold. To be perfectly honest, these
were my least-favorite performances in the show, though neither was bad, not by
a long shot. Instead, both feel just a
little distant, a little removed. Of
course, with Harold’s precisely-curated brand of apathetic neurosis, artifice
is the whole point, but I still feel like Quinto doesn’t quite hit the mark of
Harold the person beneath the droll pronouncements and carefully-arranged
poses. And while Parsons does a nice job
navigating MIchael’s descent from fluttery anxiety to meanness fueled by his
own self-loathing, there are points where I think he falls just shy and I see
the work of his performance more than the emotion of it. Also representing the celeb contingent is
Matt Bomer as Donald, Michael’s best friend who makes several valiant attempts
at being the voice of reason within the madness. Though his role is certainly less demanding
than Parsons or Quinto’s, Bomer plays it well, offering support and cautions as
necessary.
Then, of
course, there’s Brian Hutchinson as the bewildered Alan, harboring some sort of
private trouble of his own. The party
would’ve likely devolved without Alan’s presence, but he certainly helps it get
there much quicker, and Hutchinson’s uncomfortable performance is very
effective. The other non-invited member
of the group is the Cowby, played with endearing dimness by Charlie
Carver. A “birthday present” for Harold,
the rentboy sits on the periphery of the trainwreck and makes clueless comments
at inopportune moments. As for the
guests, Robin De Jesús (Sonny from In the
Heights) is probably the heart of the piece as Emory, a flamboyant man who
wears his much-maligned feminine side like a badge of honor. In De Jesús’s skilled hands, Emory is always
more than a stereotype, and as things get heavy in the second half (where
pretty much everyone gets at least one meaty spotlight scene,) he makes the
most of Emory’s big moment. Michael
Benjamin Washingon plays Bernard, conspicuous as the one Black guest at the party,
with the careful control of a man conscious of his intersectionality. While Michael’s apartment is a rare place
where, for better or worse, the others feel freer to be themselves, Bernard
knows he doesn’t get that luxury and guards himself accordingly. And Tuc Watkins’s Hank, in the midst of a
divorce from his wife, is the most conventionally-masculine of the bunch, the
one Alan latches onto like driftwood in a gay ocean. Hank himself is a bit out of place among the
campy friend group, and Watkins plays that precarious position delicately and
with heart.
Finally,
we come to Rannells (phew!) Although
billed above the title with the other recognizable TV faces, his character
Larry fits more into the supporting cast.
Larry and Hank are the show’s only couple, and they arrive at the party
already in mid-argument. The big point
of contention between them is Hank’s expectations of fidelity, which Larry
doesn’t want to fulfill, insisting that relationships only work with “an
arrangement.” The two begin at odds,
which only deepens when Hank is the most successful at Michael’s entreaty that
they “straighten up” while Alan is there.
Larry can’t keep his pointed remarks to himself, and, annoyed with and
feeling hurt by Hank, he flirts with other guys and offers little digs while he
makes a show of what a great time he’s having.
Even
though Rannells’s performance as Larry isn’t markedly different in voice or
manner than many of his most well-known characters, he still feels distinctly
his own and, what’s more, entirely natural.
“Effortless” is the first word that comes to mind when I think of
Rannells’s performance here, at least that’s how he makes it look. He seems utterly at home as Larry, genuine in
a way that the bigger leads don’t pull off.
Again, Parsons and Quinto’s roles are trickier and Quinto’s in
particular is predicated on a sense of artificiality, but watching Rannells, I
felt like I was watching a person at a disastrous party – sometimes stirring up
more trouble, sometimes sitting back to see it unfold, by turns relaxed,
snippy, wilfull, ardent, upset, and softened, always real. To me, Larry and Hank were my favorite part
of the piece, and I didn’t feel at all cheated by Rannells having a smaller
role than his Hollywood compatriots. Oh,
and his big spotlight scene? Tremendous.
Recommend?
In
General
– Yes, although I know that’s not necessarily possible with the expense of
seeing a Broadway show and the August closing date (for which I assume we can
blame The Big Bang Theory.) If you have the opportunity, I’d highly
recommend this caustically-funny, emotionally-harrowing production.
Andrew
Rannells
– Yes. Rannells may have an easier job
than some of the actors on that stage, but he plays it masterfully; I
thoroughly loved him in this show.
Warnings
Language
(including homophobic and racial slurs,) brief violence, drinking/smoking/drug
use, sexual content, and thematic elements.
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