The Book of Rannells: The Boys in the Band (2018)

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.