More stories

  • in

    Time-Traveling Film ‘Safety Not Guaranteed’ Hits Some Bumps Onstage

    Adapted from the offbeat 2012 movie, this new musical about loneliness and the longing for do-overs is promising but still needs to find its shape.From all appearances, Kenneth Calloway is the kind of oddball you would want to steer well clear of. Wild-eyed and radiating a frenetic intensity, he wears a fleece-lined baby-blue earflap hat so oversize that he can’t help looking tiny underneath. Also, there is the matter of the classified newspaper ad he placed.“Wanted: someone to go back in time with me,” it reads. “This is not a joke. P.O. Box 91, Oceanview, Washington 99393. You’ll get paid after we get back. Must bring your own weapons. I have only done this once before — safety not guaranteed.”Maybe he is a genius; more likely he is unhinged. Either way, as embodied by Taylor Trensch in “Safety Not Guaranteed,” the bumpy new musical comedy that opened on Thursday at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, he is riveting. Earnest, obsessive and vulnerable, he is soon so endearing that you may have the impulse, as I did, to keep him safe — from himself, and from the team of Seattle Magazine journalists who are pursuing an article about him.Directed by the Obie Award winner Lee Sunday Evans, the musical is adapted from the offbeat 2012 film of the same name written by Derek Connolly, which starred Mark Duplass as Kenneth and Aubrey Plaza as Darius, a young journalist who bonds with him.Like the movie, the stage version (book by Nick Blaemire, music and lyrics by Ryan Miller) is about loneliness, lost chances and the longing for do-overs. It has an appealingly indie Pacific Northwest sound and an elemental goofiness, but the show hasn’t yet found its shape. (Music direction is by Cynthia Meng, who leads an onstage five-piece band.)Darius (Nkeki Obi-Melekwe), the writer who spotted the ad, is joined on her reporting trip by Jeff (Pomme Koch), her shallow dirtbag of an editor, and Arnau (Rohan Kymal), a shy, brainy researcher. Once in Oceanview, the three operate unscrupulously in undercover mode, never disclosing to Kenneth who they really are or what they’re up to.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

  • in

    Review: Cynthia Nixon Is Nowhere and Everywhere in ‘Seven Year Disappear’

    A sleekly designed production, starring Cynthia Nixon and Taylor Trensch, aims to skewer the art world but falls flat.The problem with writing a play about absence: How to fill the void? When a performance artist known as Miriam (Cynthia Nixon) vanishes in “The Seven Year Disappear,” a two-hander by Jordan Seavey that opened Monday at the Signature Center, we know only that she is a narcissist who steals the air from any room she enters.“The Whitney is mine,” she exclaims in the opening scene, after her adult son and manager, Naphtali (Taylor Trensch), informs her that the museum has made some sort of offer to Marina Abramovic. After seven years off the map, when Miriam returns, she has the gall to ask Naphtali whether he will help turn his abandonment into her next piece.Scenes following Miriam’s reappearance, which occurs on the heels of the 2016 election, are intercut with a reverse chronology of Naphtali’s search for her, which is really a quest to find himself — in a change of careers, a series of sexual liaisons and a lot of hard drugs.“The Seven Year Disappear” has the ostensible trappings of an art-world satire, and this New Group production, directed by Scott Elliott, appears sleekly designed to deliver one. But satire calls for a more distinct point of view, discernible targets, and a greater measure of specificity and insight. The staging here, with an emphasis on style and high-tech mediation, appears keen to make up for their lack.The production includes a mix of live and recorded footage displayed on flat screens suspended above the set.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesA mix of live and recorded footage of the actors is displayed on flat-screen TVs suspended above the slick, black set (by Derek McLane); at times, their faces appear in close-up stills (projections by John Narun) that could be digital ads for Jil Sander. Onstage, the actors are dressed in black-canvas coveralls and combat boots (costumes are by Qween Jean), and intermittently speak into standing mics (sound is by Rob Milburn and Michael Bodeen). The cumulative effect is one of performance-art cosplay, which could be funny if it didn’t seem so earnest.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