Grumpy, Drunk Old Men

| 13 Aug 2014 | 03:00

    Two old friends sit on a porch in Sam Shepard’s latest play, [Ages of the Moon], drinking bourbon and reminiscing. And that’s it. They squabble, they indulge in self-pity and they complain about the finicky ceiling fan, but they don’t do much other than talk.

    And just talking is fine, but even at 90 minutes, Ages of the Moon seems as endless as the loneliest night you’ve ever spent waiting for daybreak. Ames (Stephen Rea) has summoned his friend of 50 years, Byron (Seán McGinley) across the country via bus to console him after being left by his wife. And over the course of the day, both men get the opportunity to bitterly complain about the misery of old age and solitude, in between Ames drunkenly abusing poor Byron for imagined misdeeds.

    This isn’t quite the stuff of high drama, or even consistently interesting drama. Rea and McGinley are both accomplished actors who arrive at the Atlantic Theater Company trailing a long string of critical plaudits, but the best they can do is intermittently flash their own particular brands of talent. For all their posturing and tall tales (neither character is entirely sure if the other is guilty of embellishing their pasts), Ames and Byron aren’t exactly the most fascinating men in the world.

    As the day draws to a close, the booze starts hitting them both, turning them alternately irritable and maudlin. Fight consultant J. David Brimmer contributes some surprisingly physical confrontations between the two, but director Jimmy Fay can’t overcome the talky nature of Shepard’s two-hander, which asks little of the two performers other than that they adopt convincingly American accents and sip their drinks in unison. The only moment of genuine theatricality comes from a moment mid-play, when Ames has enough of the recalcitrant ceiling fan and takes matters into his own hands. Then it’s back to tippling and talking, for both men, about their wives and their (occasionally) shared past, along with plenty of chatter about the moon and its effect on women. Hardly the conversation between two crotchety old men we’d expect from Shepard, even with the presence of bourbon and a gun.

    By the play’s end, as Ames and Byron sit perfectly still on Ames’ porch, waiting for the eclipse of the moon, we’ve been given no real reason for liking either man except their mutual success at surviving the rigors and pain of life. That may be enough to earn congratulations in life, but the theater demands something more than just two men talking about their surprise at finding themselves still alive, against all odds. For anyone who wants to watch two old men sadly contemplate their lives over drinks, well, that’s what dive bars during the day are for.

    [Ages of the Moon]

    Through Mar. 7.

    The Linda Gross Theater, 336 W. 20th St. (betw. 8th & 9th Aves.), 212-279-4200; $65.