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A Jew Grows in Brooklyn

Jake Ehrenreich in A Jew Grows in Brooklyn (Photo © Carol Rosegg)

Every season brings its share of Jewish-themed shows; the assumption must be, "Build it and they will schlep." In recent weeks, we've schlepped to two Jewish-themed solo shows, Sherry Glaser's Family Secrets and Judy Gold's 25 Questions for a Jewish Mother. Glaser's play closed last weekend; it may have been too sentimental for some, but the star demonstrated considerable talent in playing all the characters in her family. Gold's show, which is scheduled to return this fall, is sophisticated, smart, and hilarious as it dissects the modern cliché of the Jewish mother.

The best thing about the latest entry in the genre, A Jew Grows in Brooklyn, is its title. This one-person show (with a band) was written by and stars Jake Ehrenreich. At best, it's an embarrassingly naïve piece of theater; at worst, it's a cynical compilation of buzzwords intended to elicit knee-jerk reactions.

The impulse behind this show may be entirely sincere, but the combination of Ehrenreich's poorly written script and his even worse delivery makes almost everything he says sound desperate and false. In fact, the one saving grace in this debacle is his singing; thanks to Ehrenreich's sweet sound and impressive vocal control, the show improves by leaps and bounds during the musical numbers. But as soon as he starts talking again, it's back in the dumpster.

On the surface, the show purports to be about Ehrenreich's emotional journey as the son of Holocaust survivors. At first, he wants nothing more than to run away from his heritage and assimilate into American culture, but by play's end, we learn that he has grown to be proud of his history and his name. Unfortunately, all of this feels more like an excuse for the play than its true theme.

What does Ehrenreich do here that's so wrong? For one thing, he baldly attempts to milk as much nostalgia out of familiar names, places, and events as he can while adding nothing to these memories. All he wants is to make the audience sigh or laugh in recognition of our shared contemporary Jewish roots. That simply doesn't add up to a satisfying theatrical experience.

There are some touching moments in A Jew Grows in Brooklyn, most of them concerning Ehrenreich's father. Though a small man, he looms large as a person with considerable character. These scenes, plus the set designed by Joseph Egan to conjure the Ehrenreich home in Brooklyn, may call to mind Billy Crystal's 700 Sundays; but you may well find that this self-indulgent play simply isn't worth your time.

 

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