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    On London Stages, Uplifting Tales of Black Masculinity

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    “For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When The Hue Gets Too Heavy” and “Red Pitch” offer generous portrayals of male bonding.If you believe the Op-Eds, men are in a bad way these days: perpetually beleaguered and isolated, if not irredeemably toxic. But two lively new plays in London suggest an alternative, sanguine vision of 21st-century masculinity, foregrounding generous portrayals of male bonding and togetherness.In “For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When The Hue Gets Too Heavy,” six Black British men participate in a group-therapy session punctuated by bursts of song. The show, written and directed by Ryan Calais Cameron, is a male-centric spin on Ntozake Shange’s 1976 work, “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow is Enuf,” in which women of color recount their experiences of racism and gendered violence through performance poetry, music and dance.“For Black Boys” runs at the Garrick Theater in the West End through June 1. On a stage decked out in bright, blocky primary colors like a pop music video, the men — called Onyx, Pitch, Jet, Sable, Obsidian and Midnight, each a shade of black — bare their souls one by one. Every so often they morph into a ’90-style boy band, delivering neatly choreographed, crowd-pleasing renditions of R&B classics like Backstreet’s “No Diggity” and India.Arie’s “Brown Skin.” (The set design is by Anna Reid, the choreography by Theophilus O. Bailey.)Banter is their love language. Jet (an engagingly plaintive Fela Lufadeju) is joshed for wearing chinos — a “white” affectation — prompting a spiky discussion on the vexed subject of “acting Black.” Gradually, deflection and bravado give way to introspection and insight as the men unpack the perniciousness of machismo in their lives: Jet recalls how his father refused to seek cancer treatment for fear of appearing unmanly; Sable, a self-styled Casanova (Albert Magashi, suitably strutting) concedes that insecurity might be driving his philandering ways; a flashback scene depicts Obsidian (Mohammed Mansaray) reluctantly engaging in senseless violence for street cred, with life-changing consequences.The play ends with an upbeat mantra about keeping your chin up in the face of adversity. Its core message is about collective solidarity: By embracing emotional vulnerability and opening up to one another, young men can build support systems that will help them overcome life’s hardships. And the audience’s enthusiasm at the curtain call suggested to a sense of recognition: These sentiments rang true, and it meant something to see them conveyed from a West End stage.But that easy accessibility comes at a price. The six characters feel like stock types, their respective travails a little too generic to be truly compelling — each existing, rather like pictures in a high-school textbook, to illustrate a trope. This is echoed in dialogue that relies heavily on melodramatic cliché (one character tells us his father was “destructive like a wrecking ball and I was the collateral damage”) and lingo taken from social sciences (“We’re not monoliths!”). Despite its exuberant energy, “For Black Boys” is ultimately somewhat two-dimensional.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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      ‘Brokeback Mountain,’ Onstage, Lacks Some Intensity

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      A new West End adaptation, starring Lucas Hedges and Mike Faist, recasts Annie Proulx’s 1997 short story as a memory play.“This ain’t no little thing,” Jack Twist (Mike Faist) says of the depth of attraction he is experiencing in “Brokeback Mountain.”But the rodeo cowboy could equally be referring to the ongoing life of Annie Proulx’s celebrated short story. First seen on the pages of The New Yorker in 1997, Proulx’s distilled account of a tragically foreshortened affair has been an Oscar-winning film, an opera and now a self-described play-with-music.This latest iteration opened Thursday night in the @sohoplace theater in the West End, where it is scheduled to run through Aug. 12, offering a passing glimpse of some powerfully familiar characters. The bare bones of the narrative are there; the dramatically necessary flesh and blood and sinew are not.I was pleased to renew my acquaintanceship with the gregarious Jack and the more indrawn, troubled Ennis del Mar (Lucas Hedges), the two men who begin a furtive relationship in 1963 while herding sheep in the rural Wyoming locale of the title.But I’m not sure that the American writer Ashley Robinson’s adaptation actually deepens our understanding of material that many will inevitably associate with Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger in a lauded movie that lasts a good 45 minutes longer than the play (Jonathan Butterell’s atmospheric production clocks in at 90 minutes, no intermission).In the production, the Scottish singer-songwriter Eddi Reader performs original songs by Dan Gillespie Sells to give voice to the characters’ emotions. Manuel HarlanTold piecemeal across 20 years, the play comes punctuated with an attractive sequence of original songs by Dan Gillespie Sells, the English musician with whom Butterell collaborated on the (very sweet) homegrown stage and screen musical, “Everybody’s Talking About Jamie.”The seductive country twang of his music is punchily delivered here by the Scottish singer-songwriter Eddi Reader and an ace band visible at the side of the stage: look closely and you’ll see the pedal steel guitarist B.J. Cole, who has worked with Elton John and Joan Armatrading, among others.The music exists to express emotions to which the men, and the women they marry, are reluctant to give voice outright. Reader, billed as the Balladeer, is granted an articulacy missing from the characters nearby onstage who live in their bodies and not their minds.A standout number, “Sharing Your Heart,” comes at the point at which Ennis’s wife, Alma (a sympathetic Emily Fairn), realizes that her husband’s lasting affections lie elsewhere. In a separate track, lyrics describe “the lavender sky,” which a film can easily depict but which here has to be taken on faith. Tom Pye’s evocative set keeps closer to the ground, bringing to life kitchens, campfires and the tent inside which Ennis and Jack first allow themselves to be intimate.Alma (Emily Fairn) and her husband, Ennis, onstage.Manuel HarlanThe two seek shelter from the cold only to find further comfort in each other’s arms, and the tent shakes on cue to signal the carnal activity going on within it. What we don’t get, beyond stolen kisses, is the layered unfolding of a relationship with an intensity that takes the pair by surprise, so movingly evoked in both the original story and the film.It’s one thing for Jack to look on, clearly intrigued, near the start of the play as Ennis washes himself. But the writing is too synoptic and the action too abbreviated to allow the full weight of what is happening between them to be felt.“I ain’t no queer,” Ennis says early on, eager to disavow the feelings that will come to consume his life. What’s missing is time properly spent in the pair’s company, so that we feel the ebb and flow of this impossible romance. As it is, we get a sequence of highlights, a seeming annotation of the play rather than the thing itself, with the advancing years indicated by the ages of Ennis’s two daughters and Jack’s son. Mentions of the Vietnam War and the draft offer a perfunctory nod to the wider world beyond.Onscreen, of course, you can age up the actors on the way to the story’s bleak conclusion. The innovation here is to recast the story as a memory play, with the Older Ennis (a grieving Paul Hickey) on hand throughout to show the continued impact of Jack upon Ennis. The effect, at least for me, was to cast a glance back to Sam Shepard’s “Fool For Love,” another play about a combustible relationship defined by a character named solely as The Old Man.The two leads, in their West End debuts, acquit themselves well given the formidable challenge posed by their screen forbears. Hedges may not have the immediate physical command that Ledger had onscreen, but he shares his late predecessor’s furrowed brow and a sense of roiling anguish at society’s intolerance, and to some degree his own. This is someone who will never know peace.And Faist, so memorably springy and vital as Riff in the Steven Spielberg remake of “West Side Story,” is really wonderful: engaging and likable from the start, only to reach a psychic abyss on the way to Jack’s signature comment to Ennis: “I wish I knew how to quit you.” Pausing to play a mean harmonica, Faist more than justifies a play that can otherwise feel a tad superfluous.You may or may not weep at this “Brokeback” — I did not — but just as Jack is to Ennis, I expect Faist’s performance will be impossible to forget.Brokeback MountainThrough Aug. 12 at @sohoplace in London; sohoplace.org More

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      ‘Brokeback Mountain’ Is Now a Play in London’s West End

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      Much has changed for L.G.B.T.Q. people since Annie Proulx’s short story was published in 1997. But a new theatrical version is a reminder that homophobia is far from over.In 2016, when the theater director Jonathan Butterell was considering a proposal to adapt Annie Proulx’s 1997 short story “Brokeback Mountain” for the stage, he wondered how to translate the prose’s vast landscape and insular emotions into a play.Last month, in a central London rehearsal studio, Butterell and Ashley Robinson, who wrote the play, tried to answer that question. To help the cast connect with Proulx’s story of a cowboy and a ranch hand falling in love against the wide-stretching landscapes of 1960s Wyoming, black-and-white photographs of American plains and mountain ranges were tacked to the walls during rehearsals.“The vastness has been there from the very beginning,” Butterell said in a recent interview. When it came to evoking the story’s emotional landscape, the director had stuck one sepia-toned photograph, of a lone cowboy in a snow-covered Wyoming, behind a pillar. The image “speaks to the bit of us that feels alone in the world,” Butterell said. “Maybe he’s at peace with this, maybe it’s the source of his agony.”Butterell’s “Brokeback Mountain” opened in previews May 10 at @sohoplace in London’s West End. It’s the first time the story has been adapted for theater — an opera by Charles Wuorinen premiered in Madrid in 2014 — and each version now follows in the footsteps of Proulx’s text and the film that popularized it: Ang Lee’s 2005 Academy Award-winning adaptation, which is often cited as one of the best L.G.B.T.Q. films of all time.Faist, left, and Hedges at @sohoplace. During rehearsals, black-and-white photographs of American plains and mountain ranges were tacked to the walls.Suzie Howell for The New York TimesButterell said he was aware of his audience having expectations based on the film. “They’re inevitable,” he said, “but I don’t mind that.”This theatrical version also has some Hollywood clout. Its lead characters, Jack Twist and Ennis del Mar, are played by the BAFTA-nominated actor Mike Faist and the Oscar-nominated actor Lucas Hedges.In late 2016, Robinson first wrote a treatment for what he called a “memory play” based on the short story, after speaking with the composer Dan Gillespie Sells and Butterell. Robinson’s script stated that the Wyoming setting should not be conveyed “in a purely literal sense,” and his story is set in 2013, with an older version of del Mar reflecting on the years he spent with Twist between 1963 and 1983.Proulx approved of Robinson’s vision. She has “high hopes for the play,” she said in a recent email interview. “When I read Ashley’s script several years ago, I thought he had done a fine job.”In Proulx’s story, del Mar and Twist’s interior worlds are conveyed by an omniscient narrator. In the stage adaptation, music does much of that work.“These two men can’t sing,” Gillespie Sells said, because “they don’t have an emotional dialogue.” Instead, a character called The Balladeer — played by the Scottish singer-songwriter Eddi Reader — sings with an onstage country and western band. “She takes us through time,” Butterell said. “Sometimes it’s from night to day. Sometimes it’s 10 years.”“Brokeback Mountain” will be the first time its two lead actors have appeared onstage in five years. Faist, who plays Twist, originated the role of Connor Murphy in “Dear Evan Hansen” on Broadway, and has had more recent success in film, including Steven Spielberg’s 2021 remake of “West Side Story.”Hedges “hadn’t acted in a while” when he was sent the script, he said, having been focusing on writing instead. The “Brokeback” offer and playing del Mar changed that. “There wasn’t an angle I didn’t love about this,” he said.“As terrifying and frustrating as it is, I really am having the time of my life,” Faist, left, said of the production.Shona LouiseAs the project entered its final week of rehearsals, both actors were grappling with the process in different ways. Hedges said he was experiencing “tragic and triumphant ups and downs” about his own work. “I have a day where I think I’ve figured it all out, and then a day when it all disappears,” he said. The “collective experience” of theater was daunting compared to working in film, he said, adding that onstage, “I can’t use tricks to make it through.”Faist concurred: “It’s a challenge, and it’s terrifying,” mainly because of the expectations of having to match the source material and 2005 film, he said. “But as terrifying and frustrating as it is, I really am having the time of my life,” he added.Butterell said that Faist and Hedges were “as men, as actors, very different creatures.” Faist, he said, had “a sense of life and vivacity,” while Hedges “has this deeply complex interior landscape that’s very much of Ennis.”Neither Hedges, Faist nor Butterell had revisited Lee’s film since they were approached for the project. “The truth of the matter is, no matter what, he’s not Heath Ledger and I’m not Jake Gyllenhaal,” Faist said of the film’s two lead stars, who both earned Oscar nominations for their performances. He and Hedges, Faist added, would both bring their “own weird things” to the roles.The production has forced Faist to confront his “traumas,” he said. “We can take those traumas, turn them around,” he added, and, he hopes, make the audience “think deeply about their own lives.”Following the success of the “Brokeback Mountain” film, Proulx said fans of her text sent her fan fiction that rewrote the ending of her short story, claiming the original was too sad. She told the The Paris Review that those fans had “misunderstood” the story and stated that it was, most importantly, about “homophobia.”Jonathan Butterell, the play’s director, said his two lead actors had different strengths: Faist, left, has “a sense of life and vivacity,” while Lucas, right, “has this deeply complex interior landscape that’s very much of Ennis.”Suzie Howell for The New York TimesThis is the first adaptation of “Brokeback” to be released since the Supreme Court made gay marriage legal in all 50 U.S. states. Robinson — who lives in Brooklyn but was raised in the tiny town of Lockhart, S.C. — said he wrote it to remind audiences that gay trauma still exists.“These stories aren’t necessarily being told anymore because of a trend to put onstage what we want the world to be,” he said, referring to the theater community. “That’s a wonderful thing to do, but we shouldn’t cancel out all of the opportunities to talk about what’s going on underneath it.”Butterell added that the fight against homophobia was “not over” in Britain either, citing a recent spike in the number of attacks on L.G.B.T.Q. people.“This is a tragedy,” Butterell said of the play. “Of course love exists — I don’t want it to be solemn — but the tragedy of this piece is that fear wins.” More

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      On London Stages, Finding Something Fresh in Tragedy

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      New productions of “Medea” and “Phaedra” feature outstanding performances from Sophie Okonedo and Janet McTeer as women pushed to the edge.Tragedies are rarely absent from the London stage, but some defining theatrical titles don’t always deliver. It can be tricky to empathize with characters pushed to unimaginable extremes, and mythical landscapes can feel remote.What’s needed is a way of tapping into those works’ primal power afresh. It also helps to have performers with vocal and emotional range. London is offering two such powerhouses onstage right now: Sophie Okonedo and Janet McTeer, both Tony Award winners, though only Okonedo is in a production equal to her gifts.That would be the recently opened “Medea,” at the West End’s new in-the-round theater, @sohoplace, through April 22; performed in modern-dress without an intermission, Dominic Cooke’s expert production reminds us of the elemental fury at the heart of Euripides’ timeless play.The National Theater’s “Phaedra,” through April 8, is a new play from the Australian writer-director Simon Stone that draws from Euripides, Seneca and Racine. McTeer plays Helen, an anxious modern-day politician undone by love, as Phaedra was before her. But the tone wavers on the way to an attenuated close; the show runs nearly three hours.“Medea,” by contrast, charts a merciless 90-minute descent into the abyss, using the 1946 Robinson Jeffers adaptation from the Greek that is the play’s preferred version on Broadway.Daniels plays all the production’s male roles, including Medea’s husband, Jason.Johan PerssonWe hear the sorceress Medea before we see her, pleading for death from somewhere beneath the stage. Her husband, the explorer Jason, has transferred his affections to the daughter of the king of Corinth, leaving Medea to fester in grief and anger, and to plot literature’s most celebrated infanticide. Those children she will murder first appear onstage sweetly eating ice cream cones‌‌ — but that innocence won’t last.When Okonedo does appear, sunglasses hide the eyes. “I did not know I had visitors,” she says, deadpan, taking in the playgoers seated on all sides. (The intimacy of this circular theater opened last fall by the impresario Nica Burns is among its assets.) The effect draws us further into Medea’s plight, rendering us therapists or co-conspirators — or perhaps both.The play’s chorus consists of three women of Corinth seated in the audience who speak up now and again to voice their alarm. But Cooke’s primary innovation is to cast Ben Daniels, a London stage veteran, as all the play’s men. Seen before he speaks, Daniels circles the perimeter of the auditorium in silent slow-motion before stepping into the space to play a smugly dismissive Jason, or any of the other roles. The actor puts a deliciously camp spin on the Athenian king, Aegeus, in marked contrast to Jason’s knife-wielding machismo.The suggestion is of a male-dominated world in which the high-born Medea is doomed by her gender. Her fury, though, is directed at Jason specifically, and she commits the barbaric murder of their sons unseen, emerging afterward in embittered triumph.Throughout, Okonedo displays the suppleness of thought, and the wit, with which Medea surely once bewitched Jason, and the remorseless logic that has led to her monstrous deeds. Medea may go to extremes unknown to most of us, but this production keeps you on her side every step of the way.Chloe Lamford’s set for “Phaedra” at the National Theater encases the action in an revolving cube.Johan PerssonIt’s easy to imagine a younger McTeer as Medea, a role well matched to this fearless actress’s elegantly smoky voice and imposing physicality. As the sleekly attired Helen in “Phaedra,” she suggests a woman of wealth and power who knows how to work a room.That self-assurance is why it’s startling to watch her composure crack across a fitful evening that might work better if the production felt less remote. It’s a challenge to connect with the characters through the revolving cube of Chloe Lamford’s enclosed set.Not only must the actors be heavily amplified to be heard, but there are long blackouts while we wait for the various locations to be revealed — among them, a London restaurant, a field of reeds in the English countryside, or the rough Moroccan terrain of the play’s end.The characters at the start talk very fast, as if challenging the audience to keep up. But the gabble ceases with the unexpected appearance of Sofiane (Assaad Bouab) whose father, Ashraf, Helen’s lover, was killed in a car crash; Helen was in the vehicle at the time of the incident, which occurred when Sofiane was still a child.In “Phaedra,” Janet McTeer, left, plays Helen, who has an affair with the son of a former lover, played by Assaad Bouab.Johan PerssonHelen transfers her dormant feelings for Ashraf to the now-grown, and flirtatious, Sofiane, unaware that he is soon also bedding Helen’s daughter, Isolde (Mackenzie Davis, in an accomplished stage debut).The play surprises with its bursts of humor. Playing Helen’s sharp-tongued diplomat husband, the wonderful Paul Chahidi brings whiplash timing to a series of stinging takedowns of his philandering wife, who revels in feeling young again. (It would be helpful, though, to know more about Helen’s political life than the play lets on.)But for all McTeer’s considerable magnetism, this “Phaedra” feels like a messy story of romance gone wrong, modishly dressed up. Helen and her world may belong to the here and now, but it’s the centuries-old tale of Medea that really strikes at the heart anew. More

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      London Theatergoers Are on the Edge of His Seats

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      One family firm supplies seating for most of the West End’s theaters, from flexible new spaces to Victorian treasures. Its chief designer reveals some tricks and traps of the trade.LONDON — Earlier this month, during the first performance at the West End’s newest theater, @sohoplace, the audience repeatedly cheered the actors performing “Marvellous,” a comedy about a British eccentric. At one point, several hundred theatergoers even applauded a technician who came on to clean the floor.But there was one person key to the evening whom no one cheered, whooped or even politely clapped. And Andrew Simpson, the designer of the theater’s seats, was happier that way.“If a seat’s good, you don’t notice it,” he said. “You only notice it when it’s bad.” In the world of theater seating, he added, “No news is good news.”Simpson, 62, is in a position to know. He is the lead designer at Kirwin & Simpson, a family firm his grandfather founded that started out patching upholstery in a local movie house during World War II and now supplies the seats for most West End theaters. (It works with some in New York, too, including the Hudson Theater and St. Ann’s Warehouse.)Andrew Simpson, Kirwin & Simpson’s lead designer (and the grandson of the company’s founder) at the firm’s headquarters in Grays, England.Tom Jamieson for The New York TimesThe West End is challenging territory for a seating designer. Many of the London theaters Simpson caters for are Victorian jewel-boxes: tight, ornate spaces built with more attention to gradations of social class than to comfort.Originally, according to David Wilmore of Theatresearch, a company that restores historic theaters in Britain, they would have had a few front rows of luxurious armchairs — known as fauteuils — for their wealthiest patrons. Everyone else sat on wooden benches. When middle-class visitors were finally accorded seats, Wilmore said, theaters preserved their old sightlines by forcing the sitters bolt upright — “part of that Victorian strictness in all areas: ‘You jolly well better sit up and listen!’”That won’t do for seats that now often cost hundreds of dollars to occupy.A recent tour of Kirwin & Simpson’s works in Grays, a working-class town east of London, included a room filled with rolls of multicolored cloth and a shed where five men were busy screwing, stapling and gluing sleek maroon seats for the forthcoming Ronald O. Perelman Performing Arts Center in New York. One warehouse is filled with emergency replacements, so that if a seat rips at, say, the Victoria Palace Theater — the London home of “Hamilton” — a new, perfectly matching one can be installed within hours.Each theater needs many types of seats. The new, 602-capacity @sohoplace has 12 types, according to Simpson, all removable to allow different styles of staging, but some tricky older spaces require far more.A seat that Kirwin & Simpson designed for @sohoplace, a West End theater that opened this month.Tom Jamieson for The New York TimesThere are high chairs with built-in footrests, to give a clear view from the back of Victorian balconies where front-row patrons would once have sat directly on a low step. There are chairs with wide backs, but smaller seats, designed to fit perfectly into tight curves, and others with hinged armrests that can be raised so wheelchair users to slip into them. And there may be any number of things in between. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Theater Royal, Drury Lane, has over 160 different designs, with widths and angles tweaked to ensure the best view.The seats themselves have become less cluttered over time, losing accessories like ashtrays and wire cages for men to store their top hats. But in the most cramped spaces, Simpson still sometimes employs an illusion. Short armrests make a narrow aisle feel wider, he said, because visitors don’t have to squeeze past them to get to their places, and they are then less inclined to start thinking about how little legroom they have. “It’s all psychology,” he added.It similarly helped if the show was a hit. “If the stuff onstage is really good,” he said, “then people don’t mind what they’re sitting on. If it’s anything less than that, then the surroundings come into focus, shall we say.”The Sondheim Theater in London, which has a capacity of more than 1,000. The seats are by Kirwin & Simpson.Tom Jamieson for The New York TimesInside the Kirwin & Simpson workshop.Tom Jamieson for The New York TimesEven with the good will of a good show, it can be tough to accommodate theatergoers of varying shapes, sizes and tastes. Nica Burns, the chief executive of Nimax Theaters, the company behind @sohoplace, said she wanted the seats in all her venues to be comfortable for short people like her (she’s 5 foot 2 inches), who don’t want their feet to dangle in midair, and for tall people like her 6 foot 3 inch husband. While the theater was being designed, she kept two Kirwin & Simpson seats in her office and asked visitors try them. But, she said, “you’ll never find a seat that suits everybody.”One demand that Simpson hears increasingly is for wider seats. Last year, Sofie Hagen, a popular comedian, began a campaign on Twitter, urging theaters to publish details of seat widths on their websites, to help larger people like her decide if they wanted to attend. “The amount of times I’ve gone to see a musical only to be in constant, excruciating pain,” Hagen wrote. “Once I had to leave before the show even started because the seat was too narrow.”Hagen said in a telephone interview that every venue on her current British tour had agreed to display details of the width of their seats and she hoped more would follow. “If theaters had signs up saying ‘Fat people are not welcome,’ people would be like, ‘What?’,” she said, “but that’s subliminally the message we’re being told.”At @sohoplace, some dozen seats at the orchestra level and balcony discreetly offer an extra three inches of width, on top of the standard 20 or so. Simpson, the designer, said that during a test event he had happily shared one with his 27-year-old son.For some, however, a big seat might be a little too much comfort. Seats that leave theatergoers “practically rubbing shoulders with one another” make for more of a communal experience, Wilmore, the theater restorer, said.An original cast-iron row end from the Victoria Palace Theater, in Kirwin & Simpson’s workshop.Tom Jamieson for The New York TimesMichael Billington, who resigned in 2019 after nearly 50 years as The Guardian’s chief theater critic, said he felt “a degree of austerity” helped keep audiences awake. For example, Shakespeare’s Globe in London has both Elizabethan-style standing space and backless wooden benches: Billington described those benches as “a form of terror,” but added that he certainly paid attention whenever he sat on one.The new seats at @sohoplace drew typically mixed reviews from some of their first paying users. In interviews with a dozen audience members at the recent “Marvellous” performance, seven were glowing. John Yee, 22, visiting from Canada and sitting in the balcony, said they were “comfy as hell.”Josh Townsend, who had a spot in the orchestra level, said he was 6 foot 2 and often struggled with seats that lacked legroom, yet @sohoplace’s were “really good.” The week before, he had watched “Dear Evan Hansen” in London’s Noël Coward Theater — whose seats are also by Kirwin & Simpson — and his legs were jammed against the seat in front. This was a huge improvement, he said.But though she had loved the show, Ayesha Girach, 26, a doctor, said the seats were so hard they were “probably the most uncomfortable” she had ever sat in. She then praised those at the Gillian Lynne Theater, just a few blocks away, where she’d recently seen “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.” “Those were really comfy,” she said. They were Kirwin & Simpson seats, too. More