Review: I Ought to Be in Pictures Has Some Nostalgic Charm but Not Much Else

Unlike popular Neil Simon plays like The Odd Couple and Plaza Suite, which recently had a Broadway revival and later transferred to the West End, I Ought to Be in Pictures ranks among his lesser-known comedies. It had a modest run on Broadway in 1980 and hasn’t had a major production in New York City since. The company Theater Breaking Through Barriers has changed that with the play’s first off-Broadway production, now running at Theatre Row, but it’s not hard to see why it’s gone missing for so long.

That’s not a diss to this production. Bert Scott’s impressive 1980s West Hollywood apartment set, with old Frigidaire, classic touchtone telephone, and random 8-tracks lying around, wows us as soon as we enter the theater (Paul Birtwistle deserves credit for the spot-on props). There are also endearing performances, especially from Makenzie Morgan Gomez as Libby, the plucky 19-year-old who journeys to LA from New York to get her big break on the big screen. But the story is just not one of Simon’s best, and there’s nothing that director Nicholas Viselli can do to fix that.

It’s about grumpy screenwriter Herbert Tucker (Chris Thorn) who’s battling writer’s block when his daughter, Libby, unexpectedly shows up at his unkempt LA flat. He hasn’t seen her in 16 years, and she’s as quirky as he is crotchety. Her go-to for life advice is her grandmother, who’s been dead for six years. Adding to Herb’s stress is his girlfriend, Steffy (Pamela Sabaugh). The sex is great, but Steffy wants to take things to the next level. Over two weeks, Libby’s zippy personality and colorful knack for interior design start to lower Herb’s hackles and inspire him to sit at his typewriter again. Libby discovers that maybe she came to Hollywood to find something more than a career in pictures, and Herb finds his writer’s block disappear as he finally comes to terms with his role as a father.

Theater Breaking Through Barriers showcases actors and creatives with disabilities and makes its productions accessible to the disabled; scenes begin with audio descriptions for blind and low-vision audiences, and open captioning is provided throughout (projections by Scott and Samuel Biondolillo). Sound designer Eric Nightengale pipes in ’80s music to help set the atmosphere, and song titles are projected onto the set walls so that everyone knows what’s happening, while Liv Magaraci’s costumes are described in detail. Gomez uses a wheelchair and a cane, but this goes without mention over the play’s two hours and 10 minutes. Director Viselli seamlessly blends these elements in without needing to alter the story.

Despite Gomez and Sabaugh getting off to a shaky start, with delivery that sounds like line readings, everyone eventually hits their stride, and we see some real father-daughter chemistry between Thorn and Gomez in a riveting shouting match, and the cast does a great job creating tender moments of intimacy between Herb and the women in his life.

The problem is that Simon never gets too deep with these characters, relying instead on tried-and-true tropes of opposites: the jaded father and the dreamy daughter, the relationship-averse man and a love-deprived woman. Yet we’re expected to believe that these characters have evolved into better versions of themselves in a matter of days. Throw into the mix an off-handed homophobic remark by Libby prompted by mention of her brother’s high voice — “Don’t worry. He’s not what you’re thinking” — and you have some painfully creaky dialogue and story lines begging for revision or deletion.

Simon’s usual wit is on display, and the cast knows how to deliver most of it for laughs. Nevertheless, the play seems destined to remain on the list of Simon’s lesser-known works. He adapted it into a film in 1982 starring Walter Matthau, Ann-Margret, and Dinah Manoff, who won a Tony for originating the role of Libby. It was largely panned, suggesting that critics thought I Ought to Be in Pictures ought not to be in pictures. It’s not great onstage, either. If you’re a Simon completist, best get a ticket to this production. It probably won’t come around again anytime soon.