It’s Not a Wonderful Life

Shows that are panned in an across-the-board fury of negative adjectives are sometimes not as bad as the critics say, but this certainly isn’t the case with In My Life. Once a production has been described as putrid, one’s expectations are lowered to such an extent that mere mediocrity can appear to be a virtue; but this Joseph Brooks show (he’s credited with the music, lyrics, book, and direction) can’t even be credited with mediocrity. In fact, it may be the most outlandishly bad book musical we’ve ever seen.

The only other Broadway show in our memory that beat In My Life for total ineptitude was The Blonde in the Thunderbird — and that’s just because the cast of the Brooks musical is quite talented, Allen Moyer’s sets are fluid and fun, and Catherine Zuber’s costumes are amusing. But then there’s the score — and oh, oh, oh, that book! The music is bland pop, the lyrics are the worst possible combination of insipid and pretentious, and the book is (literally) a car crash. It’s not even good enough to be a train wreck.

What we have here are two extremely unlikely and unlikable characters who meet and fall in love. J.T. (Christopher J. Hanke) is a singer/songwriter with Tourette’s syndrome, plus he’s got a brain tumor, not to mention a dead mother and sister singing to him from heaven. Jenny (Jessica Boevers) is an obsessive-compulsive fast-track failure who seeks out J.T. after hearing him sing on a college radio station, beds him the day they meet, and lets him move in with her almost instantly. The entire story could be told within 30 seconds, which isn’t entirely surprising, since Brooks has won 21 Clio Awards for his work in TV commercials.

Despite Brooks’ best (or is that worst?) efforts, the talented cast members escape with their lives — and, hopefully their careers. Hanke and Boevers can’t be faulted for the way their characters were written, and one must give them credit for throwing themselves into these mad creations with gusto. The same goes for Chiara Navarra, the young girl who plays J.T.’s sister Vera, an angel with a kick-ass singing voice; and the sweet-sounding Roberta Gumbel, who plays their mother. David Turner as Winston, a gay angel, has the show’s few funny lines and plenty of presence. In supporting roles, Michael Halling shows leading-man promise and Laura Jordan is striking. Michael J. Farina plays God, here named Al — but not even He can save this show.

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A Rather Absurd Choice

The Manhattan Theatre Club has mounted Sir Alan Ayckbourn’s Absurd Person Singular on its Biltmore stage, and no doubt there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this decision. We’d like to hear it. There’s nothing compelling in this mildly amusing play about the way people almost willfully refuse to understand each other yet somehow muddle through. Moreover, the production seems emotionally remote, in large part due to John Tillinger’s serviceable but stolid direction.

The play consists of three acts, each set at a Christmas Eve party ostensibly thrown by one of three British couplest. The show is uniformly well acted, with particular praise due Paxton Whitehead, who cleverly understates his role of an old-money gentleman. Deborah Rush is equally good as his hard-drinking wife. Mireille Enos gives an amusing physical performance and Clea Lewis is also disarmingly funny, while Sam Robards and Alan Ruck are solid foils for these fine actresses as their respective husbands. But, all in all, this is a forgettable evening in the theater.

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[To contact the Siegels directly, e-mail them at siegels@theatermania.com.]