Kenneth Lonergan's Medieval Play: Thou Swollen and Not Witty

                  Someone has to say “no” to Kenneth Lonergan, so I guess it’s up to me. His Medieval Play, currently at the Signature Theatre Center in Manhattan, is misconceived, not funny and has a terrible title.

         I assume it’s intended to be a comedy because the claque in the two unsold rows behind us started laughing before a word was spoken. (At rise, neither the sets nor costumes were risible.) When the two main characters, knights in armor, finally spoke, those laughs turned to howls. What the characters said were reams of facts about the play’s time and place. If this was an attempt to be mock heroic or to mock conventions of exposition, it failed. It wasn’t funny, either. Even if it was funny, it went on too long. Far too long. Even if it didn’t go on too long, it shouldn’t have been repeated several times in the first act because it wasn’t a running gag, he didn’t top the gag nor did he change it’s meaning by changing the context. It did, however, succeed in establishing a level of cleverness for the play.

A level that was achieved, but not surpassed by two other pieces of business. One is a knight taking a squatting crap at center stage. A long one, too. I don’t know how long, but I wanted something to read. The other highlight is St. Catherine of Siena dropping f-bombs like The Flying Nun on a strafing mission. (The actor playing her, Heather Burns, is - like any good saint – covered from head to toe except for her face. Bearing, however, a strong resemblance to former supermodel, Paulina, it works to her advantage.)

I should say at this point that I was in a good, even generous, mood when I saw Medieval Play. I loved two of Mr. Lonergan’s previous plays, This is Our Youth and Lobby Hero. This production had an excellent cast including - in addition to Ms. Burns - Tate Donovan and John Pankow. The Signature Theatre Center is brand new and designed by no less an architect than Frank Gehry. It is spacious, comfortable, conveniently located in midtown and houses both an ambitious café and a bar that serves excellent cocktails, one of which I enjoyed before the performance. The theatre, one of three in the center, where I saw Medieval Play is well-proportioned, with great sight lines and acoustics. Perhaps best of all – and certainly the most surprising aspect – is that every ticket for the performance retails at $25! (A variety of major sponsors makes that possible.) So, why did this play fail to justify even that low a price?

Part of the reason may be that Kenneth Lonergan is a Playwright In Residence at the Signature Theatre Center. I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure that mean he’s pretty sure of getting produced. What’s more, he directed Medieval Play himself. Together, it’s a lack of supervision that, shall we say, encourages excesses. The first act alone clocks in at a less than crisp hour-and-a-half.  Too long for most plays and much too long for a comedy. (I don’t know how long the second act is.) No excess thought, however, was expended on coming up with a title. Medieval Play? That would suck as a working title. Then there are the promotional materials. What could be visually richer and more fascinating than medieval culture? Mr. Lonergan seems to think it’s his face. His picture appears in every ad, poster and program for the show. The look I think he’s going for is Brad Pitt with bed head. The one he gets is – well, let’s say he misses insouciant by a mile.

Mitt Romney. By A Hair.

Voting for Mitt Romney is like buying a box of hair color for men.


1) You're buying the paper-thin image of a handsome man with distinguished-looking grey hair.


2) You're getting hair color, which - by its nature - is a form of genteel fraud.


3) If you use it, you'll get amateur results while being done over by professionals.

With Friends Like Mitt Romney . . .

Mitt Romney is like a rich friend who lends you an expensive suit for your job interview.


If you don't get the job, you can't blame him - or the suit. 


If you do get hired, you've just used an expensive suit to get a job wearing a paper hat or - if you're really lucky - a shirt with your name on it.


Either way, he gets his suit back. 


And becomes leader of the free world. 

Detective School Graduation

     Greetings, class of 2012. A few words of wisdom from Raymond Chandler before you hit the mean streets. In the story, "Trouble Is My Business," Chandler writes, "Anna Halsey was about two hundred pounds of middle-aged, putty-faced woman in a black tailor-made suit. Her eyes were shiny, black buttons, her cheeks were as soft as suet and about the same color. She was sitting behind a black glass desk the size of Napoleon's Tomb and she was smoking a cigarette in a black holder that was not quite as long as a rolled umbrella. She said, 'I need a man.'"


     Beginnings are important. They can tell us a lot about the rest of the story, even determine it to a certain extent,but no one should presume to guess the end from the beginning. Especially with a mystery. The same is true of you. It's fine to have ambitions and feel you have a grip on the future, but not too tight. A relaxed grip is best.


     "I need a man good-looking enough to pick up a dame who has a sense of class, but he's got to be tough to swap punches with a power shovel. I need a guy who can act like a bar lizard and backchat like Fred Allen, only better, and get hit on the head with a beer truck and think some cutie in the leg-line topped him with a bread stick."


     This passage is both prescriptive and descriptive. It prescribes the kind of man that Anna Halsey claims to need. Indeed, the sort of person that any man would proudly be. Right down to knowing who Fred Allen is. But this passage also describes Anna as a woman who knows what she wants. Not literally, of course, but vividly and explicitly. That's a good quality. Have goals, but don't get hung on specifics. Note that Anna never says why she wants this man or even if she expects to find him.


     "'It's a cinch,' I said, 'You need the New York Yankees, Robert Donat and the Yacht Club boys.'"


     Don't ever take yourself too seriously. Who was Robert Donat?       He was a lot of people, he was an actor.


     "'You might do,' Anna said, 'cleaned up a little.'"


     You might, too. Congratulations. And good luck.