Review: The Balusters Is the Most Fun You’ll Ever Have at an HOA Meeting

Anyone who’s dealt with an HOA or a co-op has one of those stories. Mine is about a board president who grilled hotdogs on his balcony even though it was forbidden (we all know it was you, Michael). But it would be hard to top the goings-on in The Balusters, a rollicking and riotous comedy at Manhattan Theatre Club’s Samuel J. Friedman Theatre on Broadway. David Lindsay-Abaire pits his characters in battles over race, age, and gender, balancing mockery with sympathy in a work that’s elevated by strong performances.

It opens on the stately interior of an Instagram-worthy home. With Victorian columns, mid-century modern furniture, and huge, abstract portraits of Black women, the set (Derek McLane) reflects someone who has found the “right” look to broadcast her ascension into the upper class. That would be Kyra (Anika Noni Rose), who is preparing to host her first neighborhood association meeting. Her family is new to the historic district of centuries-old homes that, as Elliot (Richard Thomas) the association president says later, was luckily landmarked before it could be razed to build housing projects. If the race implications of this statement bother Kyra, she doesn’t show it. Krya’s friend Melissa (Jeena Yi) secured her a spot in the group to stir things up, but Kyra is determined to get things done without making waves.

At first, it seems like she might succeed. Though the other group members needle one another—Ruth (Margaret Colin) wears a rabbit fur jacket to piss off vegan Willow (Kayli Carter) while Isaac (Ricardo Chavira) stirs up Facebook drama—everyone welcomes Kyra. That is until she brings up the intersection in front of her home, which, thanks to screeching tires that squeal at regular intervals (sound by Dan Moses Schreier) seems dangerous.

This gets pushback from Elliot. He doesn’t want stop signs disturbing the view of the street that’s “like standing in an old postcard,” he waxes poetically. To add to the tension, Elliot’s former housekeeper Luz (Melody Butiu) is now employed by Kyra, and the reasons why she left are murky. Still, Elliot encourages Kyra to research traffic solutions—only to begin hatching a plan of his own. Because for Kyra and Elliot, this isn’t just about stop signs. It’s about control over the future of the neighborhood, and perhaps even a matter of life and death.

Rose and Thomas lead a cast that is generally punching well above weight when it comes to wringing laughs out of the material. They are equally matched as sparring partners determined to appear magnanimous, and each brings depth to their increasingly thorny characters. It’s enticing to watch Kyra’s mask slip from gracious collaborator (giving Michelle Obama in her “We Go High” years) to a snappy lady with no time for your BS (Michelle Obama now). Elliot’s mask doesn’t so much slip as break off entirely, revealing someone both more horrifying and more sympathetic than he initially seems. Among the rest of the stacked cast, Marylouise Burke gets a lot of laughs as a sweet old lady who seems slow on the uptake. Carl Clemons-Hopkins milks as much humor as possible from his role as gay travel writer Brooks.

With so many characters, a few fall through the cracks. We don’t learn much about Melissa, and Isaac and Willow trend into stereotypes. It’s a running joke that Alan (Michael Esper) never gets to speak without being interrupted. When he does get a monologue, it’s rant about how difficult it is to be a white, liberal man of a certain age when everyone’s pronouns keep changing. It’s a speech that feels like it’s coming from the playwright himself instead of a fully realized character.

Aside from the incredible set, other production elements are mixed. The naturalistic lighting (Allen Lee Hughes) from Kyra’s windows is perfect, but other scenes turn spotlights up and down for unclear reasons. Some of the costumes are excellent (that rabbit hair coat!) but designer Emilio Sosa missed an opportunity to mirror the progression from buttoned up to unhinged. Kenny Leon’s direction keeps things moving as this intermission-free show simply flies by.

While the play is taking shots at everyone for everything, the “woke” younger generations get dumped on the most. But, by virtue of time, the youth always win. That’s the way of it here, though the play’s final moments suggest that the new guard is as corrupt as the old, and class solidarity beats all other kinds. This message requires a character shift that didn’t work for me, but made for a great debate topic with my companion afterwards.

Regardless of anything else, The Balusters is hilarious, skewering not only neighborhood associations but also identity politics while maintaining compassion for all its characters. Too bad real HOA meetings can’t be this fun.