Review: An Underappreciated Wife Turns the Tables—Timidly—in Art of Leaving

Prepare for an attack of real-estate envy upon viewing the elegant, nacre-gray bilevel Upper East Side apartment that set designer Frank Oliva has wedged into the Pershing Square Signature Center for Art of Leaving, a new play by Anne Marilyn Lucas. Très chic, very contemporary. The moment that the resident couple enters the scene, though, you may wonder what era you’ve been thrust into.

Using the fourth wall as a mirror while rhythmically pounding his chest, the master of the house, Aaron (Jordan Lage), recites affirmations—“I’m Fit. I’m Fun. I’m Fascinating”—while negligée-clad spouse Diana (Audrey Heffernan Meyer) hovers nearby in worshipful anticipation, ready to hand him a smoothie. She has erred, however, in adding “Male Long Life Powder” to the mix: annoyed, he reminds her that his morning regimen calls for “Enhanced Male Brilliance Recipe.”

Aaron, an apparently successful stockbroker, is a rabid acolyte of an unseen therapist, one Dr. Stang: copies of Stang’s book Male Satisfaction Over 40 are strewn conspicuously about the apartment. Suffering from midlife angst, Aaron—a world-class narcissist—expects his wife to cater to his every whim while he’s busy reclaiming his virility.

She’s happy to oblige, despite having her own job—and a rather prestigious one at that. Aaron “won’t let” her work full-time, though, preferring to have her on call to attend to her domestic duties, which include keeping his corporate wardrobe up to snuff. Iron any boxers lately?

Just one brief snag: By participating in Aaron’s affirmation calisthenics, Diana fluffs his ego just enough to spark a temporary rapprochement (cue a “flare of romantic music,” a swoopy orchestral number suggestive of decades past).

One feels for the family members called upon to blunt the blow; they must shoulder double duty, in schematically representing the Ages of Man and stages of relationships. Elders Felix and Esther Katzman (Alan Ceppos and Pamela Shaw) harbor some secrets that apparently helped them weather a similar storm. Meanwhile, 24-year-old fiancés Jason Katzman and Caitlyn Sharp (Brian Mason and Molly Chiffer) are planning a looser, more modern arrangement to accommodate the possibility of a roving eye.

Ceppos and Chiffer wrest relatable authenticity from a formulaic script. Shaw does her best with a role that’s basically harpy-chic smother-mother, and Mason valiantly keeps the gears grinding as a psychology grad student tapped to serve as in-house family therapist.

The one-note role of Aaron, however, leaves Lage no room in which to maneuver, and in Meyer’s limp, dithery portrayal, Diana remains a dishrag throughout, even as she plans a do-over.

The play’s premise seems dated, despite the ongoing viral chest-thumping of diehard bro-influencers (little did Robert Bly imagine the backlash he would set in motion). Certainly, the role that Diana takes on within the marriage seems several decades behind the times.

Watching a woman’s self-esteem get battered for 90 minutes, while being asked to find her travails amusing, is an experience that many may find masochistic.