Garrison and Pierce in Accent on Youth. Photo by Samson Raphaelson
What the hell did audiences do to the Roundabout and Manhattan Theater Company to deserve the last season? Hot on the heels of a dry-as-dust Man for All Seasons, the tonally-schizophrenic Hedda Gabler, a sweaty Pal Joey and the abysmal To Be or Not to Be (remember that?), the Roundabout and MTC have opened The Philanthropist and Accent on Youth, respectively, two startlingly dull period pieces.
The Philanthropist, in fact, is easily the worst Broadway show I’ve ever seen, topping a list that includes Dance of the Vampires, Urban Cowboy and this season’s short-lived American Buffalo. There is absolutely no reason for this Christopher Hampton comedy to receive a full-fledged Broadway revival, even one as half-hearted as this.
Set entirely in the strangely empty and menacing drawing room of philologist Philip (Matthew Broderick), a man so kind that he borders on simple, The Philanthropist purports to take a comedic look at the ways in which genuine niceness is misconstrued in a cynical ‘70s Britain. And thank God for the period setting, because the show’s only moderately amusing moment comes courtesy of the purple suit created for Jonathan Cake (who deserves better) by Tobin Ost. Otherwise, the entire excruciating evening is spent listening to Broderick doing his best Wallace Shawn impression, without the latter’s flashes of urbane whimsy.
At least Accent on Youth, a 1930s comedy improbably unearthed by some enterprising producer, boasts a tolerable performance from David Hyde Pierce. As playwright Steven Gaye, Pierce does everything he did on 11 seasons of Frasier—only with a less talented supporting cast. As the female lead, Gaye’s secretary/star/mistress Linda, Mary Catherine Garrison chirps all of her dialogue, whether she’s a mousy secretary or a mercurial Broadway star. Linda may eventually become a tantrum-throwing diva, but Garrison clings to the audience’s benevolence as tightly as she can, in the process killing whatever chance at comedy she might have had within the confines of director Daniel Sullivan’s funereal pacing.
But both Accent on Youth and The Philanthropist, however dreadful their scripts, feature one performer who almost salvages the evening. As a monstrously egotistical novelist who appears for one scene, Cake relishes his character’s insults and aggressive conversation, though one hopes that he’ll stop running his mouth long enough to throw one well-aimed punch at the simpering Broderick. Youth, meanwhile, has two whole scenes with Rosie Benton as an over-the-top stage diva. Sweeping grandly in and out of Steven’s apartment, she has all of the snap and spark that the rest of the show so desperately needs, polishing dusty one-liners until they gleam like jewels. They’re only one-liners, but at least Benton (and Cake, too) has bothered to turn so much stale bread into enough croutons to distract audiences from owning subscriptions to two such misguided theater companies.
>The Philanthropist
Through June 28, The American Airlines Theatre, 227 W. 42nd St. (betw. 8th & 9th Aves.), 212-719-1300; times vary, $66.50–$111.50.
>Accent on Youth
Open run, The Samuel J. Friedman Theatre, 261 W. 47th St. (betw. 8th & 9th Aves.), 212-239-6200; times vary, $56.50–$96.50.
