The inaugural production in the Roundabout Theater's new Broadway home, the unfortunately- titled American Airlines Theater (formerly the Selwyn Theater), is The Man Who Came To Dinner, a revival of the 1939 Moss Hart-George S. Kaufman comedy about a pompous, enraging critic who wreaks havoc on a decent, upstanding family when he takes a tumble on their property. The great news is that the critic is played by Nathan Lane, a treasure of the Broadway stage.
The less-thrilling news is that it is directed by Jerry Zaks (Smokey Joe's Café) who, while knowing his way around this kind of material, helms the play in the usual loud antics over controlled-substance style. The problem is the play is three acts long, most of it surprisingly quiet, yet Zaks either has everyone screaming and slamming doors or so laid-back they're ready to nap. Not that this is a bad thing, actually.
Lane gives his best performance in years here, effectively showing the dastardly lout as being capable of a few other dimensions, and his comic timing has rarely been this attuned to the material. His character, Sheridan Whiteside, a famous writer modeled after Alexander Woollcott (another famous writer), risks being a heel to the audience, but Lane never makes the mistake of taking things too far (something he's been accused of in the past). Over the first act, we see him at his most cantankerous and rude, tossing icy asides to his overly-patient nurse (Mary Catherine Wright), the local doctor (William Duell) with aspirations of being a writer, Mr. And Mrs. Stanley (Terry Beaver and Linda Stephens), the couple whose house he is ransacking, and especially his tried-and-true assistant Maggie Cutler (well-played by Harriet Harris), who has fallen in love with Bert Jefferson (Hank Stratton), a local newspaper man to whom Sheridan has begrudgingly given an interview.
Things are further complicated as Bert and Maggie fall for each other, and selfish jerk that he is, Sheridan enlists the help of the vampish actress Lorraine Sheldon (Jean Smart), a man-killing sexpot whom Sheridan is sure Bert will fall for at first sight. Along the way we meet some of Sheridan's closest confidantes, including the dashing Beverly Carlton (Byron Jennings), a former co-star of Lorraine's with a taste for sweet revenge, and most amusingly, Banjo (Lewis J. Stadlen), a hyperactive, skirt-chasing madman modeled after Harpo Marx. Sheridan's scheming land him in bad standing with the home's owners, who are tired of his seize of their home, and especially Maggie, who despite his attitude toward others, harbors a deep affection for him.
Dinner is pleasant to watch, and Tony Walton's tasteful yet rich designs illuminate the setting without swallowing them whole. Yet, the play usually seems a slight beat off, especially in the middling first act, where we get not much more than Sheridan fuming in a wheelchair.
Things do improve, however, with the arrival of Beverly who, as wonderfully played by Jennings, gives the play the kind of naughty humor and roguish charm it had been lacking up to that point. And Lane works wonderfully off of him and the magnificent Stadlen (who, sadly, only appears in Act III), who gives a breathlessly funny portrayal of Banjo. Honestly, the whole cast makes a fine effort, save for Smart, who is correctly cast but tries way too hard for effect, and seems uneasy in some of her line readings. Of course, it's definitely a challenge to keep up with Lane on stage, but to her credit, at least Smart gives it her all, even if it doesn't always work.
Older audiences may appreciate this kind of play more, but certainly young theatergoers with a sense of the old-fashioned will find some joy (though many won't believe it, my companion was greeted with puzzled stares when laughing at a Jimmy Durante joke). The jokes still work, even 60 odd years later, but one wishes director Zaks found something more to offer us.
Sometimes the play is leaden when it should be soaring, and merely amusing when it should be hilarious. But credit has to be given to Lane for making it work. Confined to a wheelchair for almost three hours, he is an alert performer even when denied the privilege of mobility and can command your attention while sitting down for an entire performance. Now if that isn't a testament to a first-rate actor, I don't know what is.
