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A CurtainUp Review
The Dinner Party
This being a 6-actor play, what we have is not a lovers' rendezvous but a dinner to which six people have been mysteriously summoned by the lawyer who handled their divorces. The men who arrive first don't know each other, the women who follow one by one are also strangers to each other but not to the men. Since dinner isn't served until the play's almost over, this is more a cocktail than a dinner party. The guests at the party Simon has concocted are not visiting Americans but echt Parisians with names like Claude and Albert (that's with the "t" silent), André, Mariette, Yvonne and Gabrielle. Yet, except for Jan Maxwell and Penny Fuller (dressed by costume designer Jane Greenwood who could no doubt get a top job in any Paris fashion house), you'd have to go far to find more American types -- especially John Ritter and Henry Winkler. Unless Mr. Simon wanted to show that Parisians are no more successful at fending off divorce than Americans, the Parisian setting brings out no special flavor or meaning -- though in the case of Winkler's Albert, Nebbish, every "Albair" seems to add a measure of hilarity to his comic persona. Not that Winkler needs the name incongruity to be funny, or, for that matter, the repeat shtick about a finger injured sustained when adjusting the bow tie for his rented tuxedo. His artistically inclined used car rental dealer (he does paintings of, what else -- cars) is drolly amusing throughout. The dialogue between Winkler and Ritter gets the party off to a start that's Simon at his best and sharpest. The two well-known television stars are as at home on the live stage as Oscar and Felix of The Odd Couple and Willie Clark and Al Lewis The Sunshine Boys. The whole ensemble is terrific. Veanne Cox, who would be my choice as the lead if Mr. Simon ever decides to do a one-person show, once again proves her mastery of the dead-pan, monologue of a woman teetering on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Jan Maxwell, who I admire more every time I see her, is very fine as the first woman on scene -- Claude's ex-wife and André's (Len Cariou) Moroccan weekend fling. Len Cariou and Penny Fuller admirably carry off the roles of the partners in a marriage most heavily overhung by a dark cloud. While Cariou and Fuller are not weighed down by the darkness of the parts assigned to them, the play does not fare as well when comedy turns into psychoanalytical comi-tragedy. The playwright is certainly free to break out of the mold of his successful quick-on-the-one-liner comedies. But when comedy farce (the two doors of the set get enough of a workout to make up for the two additional doors usual for a standard farce) assumes shades of Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolfe , and the funny stuff keeps cropping up, even John Rando's otherwise swift-paced direction can't prevent the play from striking a false note. Like a musical in which the songs are stuck in rather than comfortably integrated, Mr. Simon's generally tasty soufflé collapses into a somber heap of genre confusion. The shortcomings notwithstanding, I liked The Dinner Party considerably more than our DC critic Susan Davidson did. At 73-years young, Mr. Simon is still cooking on all burners and shows promise of dishing up a last supper that will make it into the theatrical Michelin Guide. LINKS Reviews of Neil Simon plays: The Dinner Party in DC Little Me The Odd Couple (Female Version) The Sunshine Boys Reviews of Neil Simon's Memoir The Play Goes On
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