On Stage
The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall
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Washington Post
'Fall of Annie Hall': A Club Deserving Plenty of Members
By Peter Marks
Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
In his early stage and screen comedy "Play It Again, Sam," Woody Allen enshrined tough-talking Humphrey Bogart, the quintessential man's-man film star of the '40s, as a model for handling women and other intimidating tasks of modern life.
Now, a young dramatist named Sam -- Sam Forman -- plays it his own way, by turning the tables on Allen. Forman projects the nebbishy writer and movie director into something akin to the Bogart role in his new, on-the-fringe-of-showbiz satire, "The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall."
The result is an entertainingly cheeky and charming New York comedy, heavily seasoned with inside-theater jokes and, more to the point, the wit and wisdom of the man who first made neurotic self-absorption a turn-on.
If Theater J's "The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall," directed by Shirley Serotsky, accomplishes anything for the culture, it's to remind us of Allen's golden age, when his best work -- "Manhattan," "Hannah and Her Sisters" and the Oscar-winning "Annie Hall" -- set a standard for cinematic urbanity. Those movies had powerful moral cores, too, the kind that could make you feel virtuous for staying true to your quirky nature, for holding to your love of 4 1/2 -hour French documentaries -- or the unattainable object of your affections.
You can feel Allen's presence all through the world-premiere engagement of Forman's play -- and maybe at times, a bit too literally. As the evening's bespectacled Allenesque hero and narrator, ingratiatingly played by Josh Lefkowitz, regales us with the story of his struggles in love and work, a poster image for some applicable Woody Allen film is flashed on set designer Robbie Hayes's mock-up of a movie-theater facade. And on a marquee above, an ironic title materializes to provide a chapter heading for whatever comedic point Lefkowitz's Henry Blume is trying to make.
If the script had less allure, the meta-theatrical tinkering would be more understandable -- and more tolerable. But Forman's flavorful wit -- he knows a thing or two about the crispness of a one-liner -- gets all the rewarding underlining it needs in the musings of his main character and the outbursts of the cynical, fatuous and zany types with whom he mixes.
Forman's Henry addresses the audience in the D.C. Jewish Community Center's Goldman Theater in much the same manner as the voice of Allen's Alvy Singer takes us through the events of "Annie Hall." Not to give you too many of the parallels, but the play posits Henry as a deceptively sheepish, quip-ready Manhattan writer living (in a neighborhood he sarcastically describes as "Ground Zero-adjacent") with an actress from the Midwest named Annie (the appealing Tessa Klein).
Henry's aspiration is to write the libretto for a Broadway musical, a goal that remains elusive, at least as long as he spends fruitless days with his MacBook and his writing partner, a perpetually stoned composer embodied a tad too manically by Matt Anderson. After Henry learns that the theatrical wunderkind of the moment -- played by Alexander Strain and identified in the program only as "Tortured Genius" -- plans to adapt "Annie Hall" as a musical, he schemes to wangle a meeting and perhaps the job of the Genius's collaborator. How this pans out entails a subterfuge involving Facebook, lying to a movie producer's pampered daughter (the fetching Maureen Rohn) and enduring the Tortured Genius's lounge-lizard rendition of the musical's proposed title song.
Although the number doesn't sell you on the Tortured Genius's genius, Strain's self-adoring performance is a wit-filled variation on the egotists who are frequent Allen foils (see: Alan Alda pontificating on the roots of comedy in "Crimes and Misdemeanors"). The play is laced with contemporary allusions -- the gossip Web site Gawker might very well be making its theatrical debut here -- and only those with an obsessive-compulsive theatergoing disorder may get all the Broadway and off-Broadway references.
Among the names for which some might want to consult a guidebook: the BMI Musical Theatre Workshop and Angus McIndoe, the theater-district eatery. (A neat little shot is even taken at the exorbitant running time of the Pulitzer Prize-winning "August: Osage County.")
Strain's and Rohn's jaded authority helps to make juicy what comes out of their entitled characters' mouths, but it is Lefkowitz who bears the greatest share of the comic duties. He's appeared in Washington before, principally as star of his own one-man shows; the ability of the solo performer to make an audience his confidants serves Lefkowitz well. The character's believability as a doppelganger for Allen, however, is sometimes tougher to credit, for the actor and the playwright add an ambiguous edge to Henry's sexuality. This might be a modernist touch, but it also injects some unnecessary narrative confusion.
Still, Forman has composed an effective and affectionate homage. Any admirer of "Annie Hall" will appreciate the clever sway the movie maintains over the plot, down to the narrator's jokey storytelling and the lovers' eventual heart-to-heart. It's gratifying to sit in a theater and count the echoes of one of the most sophisticated comedies Hollywood ever produced. It just goes to show that after all these years, we still need the eggs.
The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall, by Sam Forman. Directed by Shirley Serotsky. Original music, Gabriel Kahane; lighting, Garth Dolan; costumes, Deb Sivigny; sound, Matt Nielson; choreography, Matt Anderson. About 2 hours 10 minutes.
Washington City Paper
Allusions of Grandeur
Woody Two-Shoes: The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall is a sophisticated but ingenuous homage.
By Bob Mondello
Posted: April 22, 2009
The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall
By Sam Forman; Directed by Shirley Serotsky
At Theater J to May 24
Don’t let the glasses fool you. In The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall, Josh Lefkowitz may be playing leading man Henry Poole as a Woody Allen doppelgänger, but there’s more than a bit of This American Life host Ira Glass to him too. The helplessly ingratiating smile, the sly, sideways storytelling. The actor doesn’t just let fly with Henry’s quips, he wraps his body around them, sidling up to punch lines, cocking his head one way and curling his leg the other to send zingers zinging so unpredictably that an audience never quite knows where it’s about to be tickled.
Henry is the linchpin in a nifty comic throwback—a lightweight romcom of the sort that used to be the lifeblood of Broadway in the days before megamusicals took over and $110 orchestra seats became the norm. Washington used to play host to a few of them during tryout season every year—Cactus Flower with Lauren Bacall, Three Bags Full with Paul Ford.
Forty years ago, one of these lightweight confections tried out at the National Theater. It had a movie-referencing title and a plot about a nebbishy, fourth-wall-breaking hero who seeks romantic inspiration in Humphrey Bogart flicks. At the time, nobody’d really heard of Woody Allen; Play It Again Sam changed that.
Now, just blocks away at Theater J, playwright Sam Forman’s found a way to, um, play it again, in an eminently Broadway-worthy comedy with a movie-referencing title and a plot about a nebbishy, fourth-wall-breaking hero who seeks romantic inspiration in Woody Allen flicks. Nobody’s really heard of Sam Forman at this point, but I suspect that’ll change too. Lightning has, to a far greater extent than anyone has any right to expect, struck twice.
And not because the young playwright is slavishly mimicking his muse, though from the script’s references to the obscurer corners of the Allen oeuvre, you’ll gather that he’s a dedicated aficionado. Forman’s central gimmick is different (Woody never materializes onstage as Bogie did), and so is his hero’s comic voice—less guilt-ridden than irony-addled; ’60s angst recast so it sounds right coming from a post-millennial dweeb.
In fact, even calling Henry the evening’s hero is overstating a bit. Behind the audience asides and Allen-esque glasses, Lefkowitz lets us see that inside the show’s leading man lurks a second-banana yearning to be free. The plot hinges on 29-year-old Henry’s fear that he’ll be a failure if he doesn’t have a show on Broadway by the time he turns 30. He and his stoned composer buddy Will (Matthew A. Anderson) spend the first part of the evening tossing around adaptation possibilities—a musical Schindler’s List? Titus Obamacus?—but Henry’s actions are those of a man more interested in being in the proximity of fame than in being famous himself.
Take the way he goes after the musical rights to Annie Hall once they’ve settled on that title, cozying up to the film producer’s daughter (Maureen Rohn) by looking her up on Facebook, memorizing her interests, and presenting himself, Zelig-like, as her soulmate. Or note the obsequiousness with which he approaches a humor-challenged Tortured Genius of a composer—played by Alexander Strain as an ego with toe rings and a 6-foot scarf—who’s already acquired the rights and just might need a librettist.
That Henry’s betraying—or at any rate, hoping to betray—both Will and Annie (Tessa Klein), his girlfriend of 12 years, bothers him only after the fact. And it would likely bother audiences if Lefkowitz weren’t making him such amusing theatrical company. Warned by the producer’s daughter that he should steer clear of her because she’s trouble, he delivers the would-be macho comeback, And I’m sayin’, what if I like trouble? in a manner so hysterically hesitant, that what might have been a throwaway becomes a haymaker. Lefkowitz can also take a mean pratfall when required, and I’ve never seen an actor pull a punch to such hilarious effect.
Strain’s egomaniacal composer is a wonderful foil for Henry, whether selling a hilariously dreadful “Ballad of Annie Hall” to the rafters (Gabriel Kahane composed the deliciously overwrought music), or soaking up the compliments he regards as his due. Anderson makes the gay stoner who is Henry’s best bud both funny and the evening’s conscience. And if the show’s women have been given less outsized personal quirks to work with, they still land their punch lines and their emotional punches deftly. Nothing devastating, mind you.
While a cursory familiarity with Annie Hall won’t hurt—the evening’s plot echoes the film’s, particularly its ending—Foreman has been smart enough about laying out the script’s references so clearly that you needn’t study up in advance. Shirley Serotsky’s observant, sharply paced staging assumes a certain basic literacy, but she’s made sure the scenes play as scenes, even when they’re at least partly homages. And just so that more casual filmgoers won’t feel left out, designer Robbie Hayes has provided a theater marquee and film posters to point up parallels where they might be useful.
All in the service of a whole Netflix queue’s worth of plot points, a raft of theater and film in-jokes, and a romcom story that’ll work just fine even for those who don’t get most of them.
DC Theatre Scene
The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall
April 22, 2009 by Steven McKnight
Henry Blume (Josh Lefkowitz) worships at the altar of Woody Allen, eats anti-anxiety drugs (without effect), writes about paranoia and anti-Semitism to an audience of zero, and lives off the largesse of his furniture-selling parents. He is about to blunder into the funniest play I have seen in DC this year, Theater J’s The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall.
Henry is a librettist who dreams of writing a musical that will catapult him to fame and fortune. He is nearly thirty, and he hasn’t had a hit since his graduate-school adaptation of The Seagull briefly earned him wunderkind status. His live-in girlfriend Annie (Tessa Klein) is running out of patience as she sees Henry schmoozing more than working. His writing partner/composer Will (Matthew A. Anderson) is a human cloud of marijuana smoke whose ideas are either ridiculous (Titus Obamacus!) or have been tried before.
Henry finally brainstorms an original and commercially viable idea, a musical version of Annie Hall. Henry’s first problem involves finding a connection to the holder of the rights, which involves him in some Facebook stalking of a character only identified as “Producer’s Daughter” (Maureen Rohn), a beautiful and complicated young woman. To make matters worse, Henry discovers that rights to a musical Annie Hall have already been optioned to a world-famous Tortured Genius (Alexander Strain). To achieve commercial success, Henry will face temptations that could threaten his relationships with Annie and Will.
This material could be stale or hackneyed in other hands, but playwright Sam Forman imbues Henry with such an appealing, nebbishy character that he seems to fall into his various calamities in fresh, intriguing ways. Henry certainly has his faults - he is an ambitious egotist who constantly Googles himself - but he is basically a sweet guy whose weaknesses recall the character Allen himself most frequently portrayed.
Lefkowitz and director Shirley Serotsky get this, and they give us a character whose rueful self-awareness reminds us that none of us is perfect and most of us aren’t even in the neighborhood. The frequent forays into audience-directed monologues - a frequent Allen device - play into the strength of Lefkowitz, an experienced monologist (Help Wanted, Now What?).
Lefkowitz has a natural feel for the Woody Allenesque humor that charms the audience even when Henry is behaving in a less than admirable manner. It is easy to empathize with the concerns of Henry and Annie as they face the pressures of a moment of truth for their careers and their relationship. The comedy is humorous but realistic, even in scenes that are bittersweet.
While the comedic monologues are amusing, their use verges on excess and the monologues do limit our time seeing Henry interact with the other characters. In particular, the script could better illustrate the positive aspects of Henry and Annie’s romance and why he might miss her if he can’t save the relationship.
All of the actors give strong performances. Anderson gives a convincing and funny take on the lovable stoner composer. Strain’s performance as the pretentious scion of a theatrical family serves as the basis for much of the play’s winning satire. Rohm exhibits just enough vulnerability to add dimension to her intellectual ice princess.
Sam Forman’s smart and witty script also adeptly skewers the world of theatre and the route to show biz success. To paraphrase Tortured Genius in less profane language, Broadway’s not for weaklings.
In Play It Again, Sam, Allen’s character is guided to success by the ghost of his icon, Humphrey Bogart. During the performance of the hilarious The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall, it is easy to imagine the Woodman sitting in the balcony of Theater J wearing an uncharacteristically broad smile.
Washington Times
THEATER: 'Annie Hall' satire instant hit
Musical pays homage to Woody Allen films, humor
By Jayne Blanchard | Friday, April 24, 2009
The romantic and career entanglements of young, self-absorbed New Yorkers are the focus of Sam Forman's hip, laugh-out-loud-funny musical comedy "The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall," an homage to Woody Allen movies tweaked with references to Twitter and Facebook.
The world premiere opens this month at Theater J under the seasoned direction of Shirley Serotsky. Although it embraces trends and new technologies, "Annie Hall" doesn't convey anything particularly new or insightful about relationships and the nuttiness of show business. The material, however, is presented in such a wildly entertaining way that you just shrug and say, "Whatever, dude."
The story charts the quarter-life crisis of Henry Blume (Josh Lefkowitz), a writer for the theater who has yet to pull an "Avenue Q" and make it on Broadway. He and his collaborator, an amiable stoner named Will (Matthew A. Anderson), decide a musical version of "Annie Hall" will get their names up in lights.
Yet in order to secure the rights, Henry must cyberstalk the celebutante producer's daughter (Maureen Rohn, smart and self-aware as a rich slacker). In a hilarious scene, he convinces her they are possible soul mates by parroting information gleaned from her Facebook profile. When she introduces him to his idol, theater wunderkind the Tortured Genius (Alexander Strain), Henry's dreams are within his grasp. But first he must turn his back on his friend Will and his longtime girlfriend, Annie (the appealing Tessa Klein).
"Annie Hall" employs a loose, shoot-from-the-hip structure and irreverence suggestive of cable sitcoms. The show alternates between self-deprecating narration by Henry and scenes of his various triumphs and humiliations - also cleverly portrayed as film titles on a light-up marquee on the side of the stage - as he attempts to join New York's elite.
The situations are pat, as are the characters: the excruciatingly enlightened impresario Tortured Genius, with his flowing Indian robes and smug mellowness; the loyal and long-suffering girlfriend; the snobby producer's daughter. But Mr. Forman takes these conventions and gives them a fresh twist, especially in his tart and telling dialogue.
Sometimes, you wonder if "Annie Hall" is too insular, with its numerous fandom references to Mr. Allen's films and modern theater allusions. (You had better know about Duncan Sheik, Adam Guettel and Michael John LaChiusa, or you'll be totally in the dark.)
Mr. Lefkowitz, a gifted monologist, probably could learn to share more with his fellow actors and resist the urge to ad-lib and employ scene-stealing tactics. Still, with his idiosyncratic delivery and self-conscious charm, he is one captivating nebbish. Mr. Strain is subtle and masterly as the Tortured Genius, and Mr. Anderson mines such infinite delights in the role of the pothead friend that he makes a strong case for legalization.
Like the iconic movie, this "Annie Hall" is an instant classic.
★★★½
Metro Weekly
Hall of Fame
Fresh on the heels of its first Helen Hayes Award, it would appear that Theater J has another winning show on its hands
by Tom Avila
Published on April 23, 2009
It's amazing what people will post online.
Leave aside the conversations people will have, loudly, on their cell phones while walking down the street or riding the train home (''I'm on the train...''). Forget about the level of trust afforded to a tiny logo and the phrase ''secure server'' as we hand social security and credit-card numbers over like they were the address of a favorite deli.
Think Facebook. Think Twitter. Think of all the random comments and photos posted for the world to see without so much as a second thought.
How much could a perfect stranger learn about you with just a few minutes on your Facebook page? Enough to convince you that you had a friend in common? That you were alumni of the same school? That you hate your job and were only pretending to be sick last Thursday?
How solid is that electronic trail to your front door?
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'Rise and Fall of Annie Hall' at Theater J
The social-information age that is laying siege to some of the great devices of the creative class -- hard to have a missed connection when you're Tweeting your whereabouts ever 20 minutes -- is put to very good use in Sam Forman's play, The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall. Now onstage at Theater J, this world premiere is a bright and witty show that mixes new media and neuroses with fantastic results.
Our narrator for the evening is Henry (Josh Lefkowitz), a struggling young librettist who has struck on an idea. He and his writing partner will do a musical version of Annie Hall. All they need are the rights to the material and nothing can stop them. After all, while at Northwestern they turned The Seagull into the well-received musical Birds of a Feather.
With a few clicks Henry finds that the daughter of Woody Allen's producer, known to us as Producer's Daughter (Maureen Rohn), works in a gallery downtown. Armed with a few Facebook-mined facts, he quickly convinces her that they share a strange and deep connection.
He also learns that world-renowned and painfully arty composer Tortured Genius (Alexander Strain) is already doing a musical of Annie Hall.
Of course, he still needs someone to write the book.
That's the set-up. Throw in a relationship with a struggling actress and make the writing companion a good-natured stoner and it's a romantic comedy that feels timely without trying too hard to be hip.
And that might be what makes Rise and Fall so successful. There's something refreshing about the straightforward nature of its storytelling. The play is not trying to be anything bigger than its own stage. It's not trying to teach some universal life lesson. It's a smart, solid and impeccably constructed play about a very particular incident involving a small collection of people who do not change the world.
They just live.
Bringing this collection of New York artists brilliantly to life is an ensemble cast that is sheer joy to watch.
Strain's Tortured Genius is frighteningly familiar. You've seen him speaking seriously to Arts Section interviewers about his ''process,'' heard him confessing dark family secrets on NPR and watched the name-dropping profile piece on A&E. Strain gives us an artist who is painfully self-absorbed and brutally self-assured. It's good fun.
Matthew A. Anderson, who plays Henry's writing partner Will, and Rohn turn in the evening's surprise performances because little would seem expected from their characters. Will is constantly stoned and the Producer's Daughter is caught in a constant volley between bored and lost. Both actors bring their roles a warmth and good humor that make their characters utterly endearing.
The same can be said of Henry's girlfriend Annie (Tessa Klein). Yes, she's actually named Annie, but there are no ties or floppy hats involved. Klein's Annie is something of a mystery, the character with the least number of cards showing. Klein works carefully and with great determination and turns this question mark into a great performance.
But, as wonderful as this cast is and as beautifully as they work together, in so many ways this play belongs to Lefkowitz. Funny and casual and in complete command of both his character and the stage, Lefkowitz is the kind of actor who puts an audience completely at ease. His timing is flawless and his complete embrace of Forman's skillful writing is clear.
Fresh on the heels of its first Helen Hayes Award, it would appear that Theater J has another winning show on its hands. The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall is a romantic comedy about the social networking set. And you don't even have to know about Twitter to enjoy it.
Decider
Recap: The Rise And Fall Of Annie Hall at Theater J
La-di-da, la-di-da, la la
by Maura Judkis
May 1, 2009
If Woody Allen had a Facebook profile, his relationship status would constantly be set to “It’s complicated.” So, too, would Henry Blume’s: A struggling playwright, Henry (Josh Lefkowitz) wants to write the next big musical, but in the eight years since his graduation, he and his stoner writing partner (Matt Anderson) have struggled to produce anything more than pithy, unrealized concepts. So, when he gets the idea for a musical remake of the 1977 Woody Allen film Annie Hall, he pursues the daughter of the film’s producer in a manner similar to Allen’s technique for seducing Julia Roberts in Everyone Says I Love You: He memorizes the details of her Facebook profile to come across as the perfect guy for her—all so he obtain the film's rights.
After that, the parallels between the The Rise And Fall Of Annie Hall at Theater J and Annie Hall go deeper and deeper. Neurotic, horny, and bespectacled, Henry and Allen's Alvy Singer are both likely to break the fourth wall to address the audience, tell jokes as a metaphor for life, and lament the fact that they’re just not getting laid nearly enough these days. “We haven’t had sex since the invention of Twitter,” Henry says to his girlfriend, named (of course) Annie (Tessa Klein). The play is also filled with contemporary references to Gawker, the Internet Movie Database, and a heavy-handed use of the word “bro.”
But where Annie Hall mocked the vapidity of Hollywood culture, playwright Sam Forman aims for the Broadway elite, filling his show with jabs at fellow writers. Henry’s girlfriend, an aspiring actress, can’t have sex with him because she is too stressed out practicing for roles such as “Girl Who Gets Assaulted By Her Pilates Instructor” on Law & Order. A wealthy, tortured-genius dramatist (Alexander Strain) that Henry hopes to work with becomes his romantic and professional foil when their plans to write Annie Hall: The Musical together go terribly awry. The dramatist’s voicemail message, “I’m away at Duncan Sheik’s ashram in East Timor with my publicist and agent, so call my agent’s publicist or my publicist’s agent,” is totally the new “I forgot my mantra.”
For a play about a musical, though, it would have been nice to include more songs. The tortured genius sings the title song of Annie Hall: The Musical (“Annie Hall / you’re the light that shines in every young Jew’s eyes”) and the cast’s rendition of a song from their college production, a musical adaptation of Chekhov’s The Seagull—coincidentally, the next show in Theater J’s season—left audience members wanting more.
Ultimately, Henry and Annie struggle with one of Allen’s most famous quips: “A relationship is like a shark. It has to constantly move forward, or it dies.” The result? Well, let’s just say it’s complicated.
Express Night Out
Written by Express contributor Erin Trompeter
See My Complete Profile: 'The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall
'IF NOTHING ELSE, Theater J's latest offering serves as a cautionary tale to Facebook users: Adjust your privacy settings. That's the device by which young would-be Broadway genius Henry Blume (Josh Lefkowitz) snares the trust of a film producer's daughter (Maureen Rohn) in Sam Forman's ultra-contemporary comedy, "The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall."
Nearing 30 and desperate to make a Broadway musical of Woody Allen's perhaps greatest work, Henry memorizes the woman's Facebook profile — it's Allen's films her father produces, after all — visits the gallery at which she interns and dazzles her with their totally coincidental interests.
The daughter connects Henry with a composer (Alexander Strain) who plans to turn the movie into a musical, but needs a book writer. The composer, a "tortured genius" type from an eminent entertainment dynasty, admires Henry's love of Allen and ill-advised frankness, and the pair plan to work together.
In doing so, Henry betrays his perpetually stoned writing partner, Will (Matt Anderson), and his girlfriend of 12 years, Annie (Tessa Klein), a struggling actress with whom he hasn't slept since "the invention of Twitter."
Directed by Shirley Serotsky, this world premiere features a winning cast and uncovers the mundanely seedy aspects of showbiz. Lefkowitz manages to keep Henry likeable, though, even as he attempts to cheat on his girlfriend and claw his way to stardom.
In a play that references insanely popular social networking devices and the current president, it might be Henry's struggle to succeed that feels the freshest of all.
DCist
The Rise And Fall of Annie Hall; Laughing With and at Woody Annie Hall: The Musical.
By Missy Frederick
Does the concept cause chills of horror to run down your spine? An odd thrill of excitement? An eye roll and a laugh? Complete and total apathy?
Unless your response is the fourth, you've got a reason to check out The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall, a new play with music from Sam Forman. The plot, after all, revolves around Henry (Josh Lefkowitz), a nebbish little composer with his sights set on pulling off such a feat – if only he can get in good with the folks who are controlling the rights. But if the amusing presence isn't enough to grab your attention, the play has more than its premise going for it.
For one thing, it's laugh-out-loud funny. Whether the target is Woody Allen himself, Jews or modern societal references from Twitter to Gawker, the jokes land their punches. The dialogue – with the exception of an excessive number of "man"s and "dude"s thrown in almost without regard for character – also feels extremely natural. I'm not sure I've seen a typical late-night "relationship" discussion that seemed more real than the one that takes place between Henry and his girlfriend, Annie (the engaging Tessa Klein).
There's also the welcome presence of Alexander Strain, who plays the Tortured Genius who's currently working on the non-lyrical-end-of-things for the musical in progress. Strain perfectly captures how painful self-involvement can also be charismatic, while making the audience feel they're in on the joke, and much too smart to be taken in by such a fraud. Hearing him wax on about how terrible it was to grow up in a show biz family never ceases to amuse.
Due to the script, Lefkowitz's job is to interact casually with the audience. On the night I attended, this was admittedly a tough task – no one seemed eager to play along, even at the script's brightest moments – and the actor seemed visibly uncomfortable throughout a good chunk of he first act. It doesn't help that he's working with what's essentially a very grating character – snobby, weak, egotistical and ready to trade in his girlfriend of more than a decade for a thrill. But Lefkowitz relaxes into the roll enough during the second act to strike up a reasonable rapport regardless.
About that less-than-enthusiastic audience. There's something surreal about watching a play that features Facebook as a major plot point in a crowd where the walkers literally outnumbered the individuals under 35. it's a cheap shot, but it's also an important point. Forman's out there producing a fresh, contemporary script that may not have a grand theme or point, but is amusing and witty enough to capture the attention of a younger generation of theatregoers. He needs an audience – there's enough value in Annie Hall to give him one.
District Beat
The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall is a story of 20-something angst. It’s a tale of artists, starving in the city, trying to figure out if they can become the performers they think they should be, or if they even want to. It’s all the kooky neuroticism of Woody Allen, with all the hip banter of Friends, and all the pot scenes of Seth Rogan. In the world premiere of Sam Froman’s new play, we are told the captivating story of Henry (Josh Lefkowitz), a struggling 29-year-old playwright, who hasn’t writing a good play since college. He is clearly addicted to brain crack. He sits in his apartment, thinking of brilliant ideas with his writing partner, Will (Matthew A. Anderson)and his girlfriend Annie (Tessa Klein), but he doesn’t seem to do much to make them happen. He seems to mistake networking for working. The story is deliciously impotent. It has all the signs of progress without any notable change. It is full of big ideas, and small actions. It is a tall of the intimate, ongoing crisis of the day to day life of an average gen-x-er. Oh, and it’s really funny (in a Woody-esq way). Lefkowitz has moments of sheer brilliance, especially in his asides to the audience. His monologues make us waffle between giggles and belly laughs, with moments of incredible awkwardness (but the best kind of awkwardness). He is a master of the humorous over-share.
The parallels to Annie Hall are numerous. I’d say you really need to see the movie before you see the play (but then again, if you haven’t seen the movie yet, you really need to get on it. It’s a classic, dude!). The characters, the relationships, and the plot are all a sweet (if not over-eager) homage to Alan. There are moments when Lefkowitz is Woody incarnate, though his character is a little more effeminate, and a little less Jewish.Funny scene from Woody Allen’s 'Annie Hall'. He's suing American Apparel for the use of a scene from it. gothamist.com
[via Apture]
The show is a blast. It’s a nearly non-stop comedy that waffles between silly and brilliant. It is touching, and frustrating in all the right places. It is especially appropriate for young adults, so I encourage all of you to take advantage of that YA price. If I hear of any other deals, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, rent the movie, and then go see the play. I am happy to be able to give 4/5 starving artists to a play about 4 starving artists (and one artist who is making money). How apropos.
Washington Jewish Week
4/22/2009 8:59:00 PM
'Rise and Fall' -- Woody's wackiness, but with heart
by Lisa Traiger
WJW Arts Correspondent
Life, the famously nebbishy Alvy Singer opined, "is divided into the horrible and the miserable. The horrible are terminal cases and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. And the miserable is everyone else. So you should be thankful that you're miserable."
If that sounds a lot like Woody Allen, it is. For those who aren't fans, or for Gen Y-ers who came of age with the darker, more morally challenged and challenging Allen oeuvres, Alvy Singer is, of course, Allen's alter ego. Alvy is also the centerpiece of the filmmaker's 1977 neurosis-laden love story Annie Hall and inspiration for many young, male Jewish nerds from New York and beyond.
The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall takes Alvy Singer into the 21st century, where texting, IMs, Google and Facebook rule the love lives of the under-30 set. The world premiere runs through May 24 at the Washington DC Jewish Community Center's Goldman Theater.
Playwright Sam Forman has a thing for Woody Allenesque moments, at least the Alvy Singer kind, in this homage and take-off. Scenic designer Robbie Hayes provides a Manhattan skyline to highlight Allen's most beloved star -- the city of New York.
Rise and Fall is a small play about people muddling through, like many of Allen's earlier works. Forman's dialogue and direct address to the audience are mostly amusing, and riff lovingly on the master of neurotic paranoids.
Forman isn't an imitator, but an adapter, playing the failed artist and failed relationship cards with a degree of finesse and finding a soft spot for the broken-hearted. Thereby lies the probable success of Forman's reverence for the now-fading (or faded, depending on whom one asks) comic with the existential neurotic streak.
Rising young actor and playwright Josh Lefkowitz (who had a hit in the DC Fringe Festival with an autobiographical monologue called Help Wanted: A Personal Search for Meaningful Employment at the Start of the 21st Century) plays Henry, an Allen/Alvy Singer alter ego. He's a nebbishy, whiny, stuck-in-a-rut-as-a-musical-theater writer. And, as overheard in the lobby, the cute factor is not small potatoes, especially with the Jewish grandmother demographic, which on opening night fell completely for Lefkowitz. That Henry freely admits to sponging off his parents' largesse didn't bother the bubbes as much as it did his live-in girlfriend, a struggling actor.
Henry's partner, the very funny Matthew Anderson as Will, a pot-smoking, gay composer and old-time college buddy, proves a steadfast friend. It's his girlfriend, Annie -- Tessa Klein is no glorified shiksa goddess a la Diane Keaton -- who despairs as an unhappy, overworked, underpaid, starving actor.
Meanwhile, Henry strikes up a friendship with a producer's daughter to get his Annie Hall musical in the right hands.
Annie Hall, Henry notes, is perfect for the Broadway ticket-buying public: "70-year-old Jewish New Yorkers É not people like us." That is, poor, struggling artists, clad in geek-chic tattered T-shirts and grungy jeans, too-new Converse All-Stars and retro horn-rimmed glasses -- costume designer Deb Sivigny's work.
Henry sets out to ingratiate himself with a producer's daughter for a chance at wooing Allen. His Allenesque technique, updated from culling personal information from a shrink, involves memorizing the producer's daughter's Facebook profile.
Maureen Rohn plays her blond and beautiful nameless character as an emblematic failed rich kid, who only wants to be happy.
When Alexander Strain does Rohn's unnamed character one better in the pretentious category playing his "Tortured Genius," also unnamed, character with deep-voiced bravado, it's hard not to notice that this character bears an uncanny resemblance to rising Broadway composer Adam Guettel, auteur of two Broadway musicals, Light in the Piazza and Floyd Collins.
Guettel, like Strain's character, suffered a "rough patch" with cocaine and other controlled substances in mid career. Strain relishes the irony of his supercilious character and makes a funny portrayal memorable with a few too many sideways glances and pregnant pauses while lounging in his Indian kuti tunic.
The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall is sure to please those with a yen for Woody Allen repartee with a heavy dose of 21st-century-speak -- dude, like, whatever. But unlike some of Allen's loopiest works, Forman's has heart and his characters show real hurt, real love and real loss without the wisecracks.
Sure, the evening is awash with Allenesque asides and snap judgments, but at its core, it's about growing up and moving on when the realization comes that not everything works out as one wishes.
Hill Rag
The Sound of Laughter
A New Comedy Debuts At Theater J
by: Brad Hathaway
Laughter fills Theater J’s home on 16th Street NW through May 24 with the world premiere of a five-character comedy called “The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall.”
Now, the sound of laughter isn’t exactly unknown in the 238-seat Goldman Theatre. After all, laughter punctuates many of the serious explorations of morality and the human condition that Theater J often offers. The company has even hosted a whimsical klezmer musical, and Theodore Bikel’s program of stories about author Sholom Aleichem had the word in its title: “Laughter Through the Years.”
But rarely has the theater resounded to such continuous mirth as it does right now with actor/monologist Josh Lefkowitz carrying the audience through the trials and tribulations of the lead character in Sam Forman’s tale of a 20-something, would-be writer who dreams of making a Broadway musical out of Woody Allen’s famous 1977 film.
To have a fine time watching this comedy, you really don’t need to know a thing about Woody Allen or the movie in which he starred as a neurotic New Yorker whose relationship with the title character (Diane Keaton) just doesn’t work out. The story and the humor in Forman’s script are strong enough to carry you along without an encyclopedic recall of all things Woody.
But if you have a chance to do as one character in the play does, rent the movie from Netflix or a local video store and screen it once or twice, the play will have even more delights.
Author Sam Forman seems to be following the old adage, “Write about what you know about,” in creating this comedy about a young man trying to write the book and lyrics for a musical. He is, after all, a young man who wrote the book and lyrics for the musical “I Sing!” He has recently written another musical, something called “Broadway’s Next Season,” which has yet to be produced.
Forman came to the attention of Theater J when the late Pulitzer Prize winning playwright Wendy Wasserstein, who was at the theater for the premiere of her last play, told Artistic Director Ari Roth about two of her promising students including him in that short list. Since then, Forman has worked on television pilots, written plays as well as other musicals, and performed on off-Broadway stages in New York.
Not only does his “The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall” deal with problems Forman must have experienced while trying to create a musical, it is presented as if it were autobiographical. The character of the writer addresses the audience directly, acting as the narrator of the piece.
Forman isn’t playing the part of the writer. Instead, Josh Lefkowitz takes the stage, and in the manner that has been so engaging when he charmed local audiences with his own autobiographical monologues (the lengthily titled “Help Wanted: A Personal Search for Meaningful Employment at the Start of the 21st Century” and the more precise “Now What?”) he walks us through the saga of Forman’s story.
As a monologist, Lefkowitz knows how to engage and charm an audience not just with words, but in posture, gesture and a remarkable ability to seem as if he’s making eye contact with everyone even if he’s under bright lights and can’t really see out into the dark. As an actor, he brings to the stage a natural ease which he polished in a number of dramatic roles at local theaters. He was the son in Woolly Mammoth's production of “The Mineola Twins,” the flighty young Dauphin in Olney's “Saint Joan,” and the questioning medic in Signature Theatre's “One Red Flower.”
Two women complete and complicate the writer’s life. One is his girlfriend of 12 years who just happens to be named “Annie.” Played with a nice light touch in the premiere by Tessa Klein, who was so much fun in Theater J’s “Sleeping Arrangements” two years ago, this “Annie” has many of the traits of Woody Allen’s own “Annie,” and the relationship between the narrator and his girlfriend is just as tenuous. He complains that despite sharing a Murphy bed in their Manhattan apartment, they haven’t had sex in four months or, as the narrator puts it, “since, like, the invention of Twitter.”
The other woman in the play isn’t listed by name, just by description. She’s “Producer’s Daughter,” an Ivy Leaguer who the narrator researches through her Facebook page because her father was one of the producers of the movie “Annie Hall,” and he hopes she can help him get the rights to “musicalize” the screenplay. Maureen Rohn makes her Washington debut in the role and is an impressively bright presence. She lands some of the sharpest barbs of the night with aplomb.
Washington veteran actor and director, Alexander Strain, who is Theater J’s associate artist-in-residence this season, has another of the play’s roles which go by a description rather than a name. He plays “Tortured Genius,” an established composer with strong family ties to musical theater. Perhaps the character isn’t given a name because it is a bit too close to identifiable for longtime musical theater buffs. (The description of the family ties drew knowing chuckles on press night.) In the play, “Tortured Genius” already has a commission to make a musical out of “Annie Hall,” and the narrator’s task becomes getting the chance to write the musical with him.
With the exception of the delightful performance by Lefkowitz, the most fun of the night comes from Matthew A. Anderson, who emerges from the background where his talents went largely unnoticed in Theater J’s “David in Shadow and Light” and “Shlemiel the First” last year. He scores a host of belly laughs and an equal number of warm chuckles and smiles as the pot-smoking best friend of the narrator with whom he originally wants to write his musical.
They go back a long way, having written a musical version of Chekhov’s “The Seagull” together in college. A song from that musical, “Birds of a Feather,” is the closing event of this delightful, mostly non-musical comedy.
Anderson gets to deliver some of Forman’s funnier lines. While puffing on a pot pipe, he suggests updating Shakespeare as a musical about the new administration in Washington with the title “Titus Obamicus” or basing a show on a selection of Russian short stories as “When Pushkin Comes to Shove.”
The script is peppered with funny lines and bits for the rest of the cast as well. Lefkowitz’s physical comedy includes scrunching down in order to deliver the line, “Woody Allen is standing over my shoulder.” Some gags are a bit more obscure, however. He cements his reputation as a dyed-in-the-wool theater person by pointing out that he worked at the drama book store in high school, something only funny to other dyed-in-the-wool theater people.
This refreshing comedy plays Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday evenings and Sunday afternoons. Tickets are $21 to $55 and can be purchased online at www.washingtondcjcc.org.
Brad Hathaway is the editor/reviewer for Potomac Stages, a website and e-mail service covering theater in Washington, Maryland and Virginia (www.PotomacStages.com). He has written about theater for Theatre.Com, Musical Stages Online, The Connection Newspapers and such magazines as American Theatre, Show Music, the Sondheim Review and Live Design. He and his wife live on Capitol Hill. He can be reached by e-mail at Brad@PotomacStages.com.
TheatreDC.com
Dude, Theater J's musical The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall is just what you need to cheer up your recession blues. Director Shirley Serotsky, her designers and cast have hit a home run with this play about turning a classic film into a Broadway musical.
And dude, playwright Sam Forman has crafted an edgy story about twentysomethings on the cusp of thirty, finding it's time to let go of one set of dreams and embark on another. Dude, his use of current cultural phenomenon like Twitter, Facebook and Wikipedia make it seem like he wrote the play last week. But his story line of two men trying to succeed on the Great White Way is right out of a 1930's or 40's musical. Dude, it just goes to show that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
THE RISE AND FALL OF ANNIE HALL'S Matthew Anderson and Josh Lefkowitz (Photo by Stan Barouh)
Briefly dude, the story goes like this...
Rise and Fall follows the trials and tribulations of Henry, this dude who is trying to find a way to bring one of his musicals to the stage. Not off-Broadway dude, but on Broadway. Only problem is that Henry (played by this dude, Josh Lefkowitz) spends more time schmoozing and plotting to meet famous people than he does writing musicals. Meanwhile his perpetually stoned, gay, best friend -- another dude named Will (Matthew A. Anderson) -- is not helping matters by constantly reliving their college theatre days while offering lame ideas for musicals like Titusobamacus. Now Henry's girlfriend Annie (Tessa Klein) is a mildly depressed, struggling actress who hasn't had sex with Henry in four months (yeah dude that cold, but at least she keeps apologizing to him). Frustrated in more ways than one (you can imagine dude), Henry spends his time Googling his own name (yeah dude, that's lame but we all do it), watching Internet porn (like you never did that dude!), and searching the IMDB for odd tidbits of information on his favorite stars. Oh, and he keeps trying to figure out a way to meet his favorite director, Woody Allen because he wants to turn the movie Annie Hall into a musical. Which could have something to do with the fact, that his life kind of resembles the movie in certain respects.
Then dude, into this mix walks the Producer's Daughter (Maureen Rohn), a 23 year old, Ivy Leaguer who's father is a successful Hollywood insider and who produced the movie Annie Hall with Woody. Seeing opportunity right in front of him, the dude Henry immediately goes to work and stalks the woman through her online presence. Yeah, Facebook, Twitter -- all of it dude. Next the Henry guy stages an accidental meeting at the Producer's Daughter's place of work (she had it on her Facebook account -- obviously dude, she's never been stalked). And then once entwined in her world, Henry meets the Tortured Genius -- this theatre icon dude who has already been given the rights to turn the movie Annie Hall into a Broadway musical. I know dude, bummer. But Henry, being a celebrity obsessed theatre-world wanna-be, isn't going to let any of this stop him in his quest to see his name in lights.
Dude, Rise and Fall's director Shirley Serotsky and her designers have come up with a free flowing, easy to watch performance. From the way Henry steps out of character to address the audience (a bell rings) to the moving set, to images of Diane Keaton, to the caftan costumes favored by the Tortured Genius, dude each step of this play moves right into the next without a pause.
And dude, set designer Robbie Hayes utilizes a backlit skyline of New York City with moving buildings that serve as narrow streets, loft apartments, or the ubiquitous name up in lights. The latter is used throughout the performance, as a summary of the action occurring on stage is lit up in the theatre marquee. The effect is really funny, dude.
Being a play about a musical, the composer guy Gabriel Kahane provides the original music, which since it's a play about a musical keeps the Annie Hall references going and adds an interesting element to the play.
And Ms. Serotsky has made a casting coup by placing Josh Lefkowitz in the role of the dude Henry. Mr. Forman's writing is so similar to Mr. Lofkowitz's one-man shows, that it is easy to think the actor has improvised the dialogue for this play as he is going along. But while he didn't do any of the writing, he certainly brings Mr. Forman's words to life in a way that makes them his own. With every smile, winsome look and line delivery, the Lefkowitz guy has the entire show in his hands. His nerdylicious looks don't hurt, since he pulls off the neurotic guy next door routine really easily.
Dude, the Henry character, as written by the playwright, is the glue that holds the whole show together and this requires an actor who melds right into the role from the get go. And this Lekowitz guy makes the show a fun ride. So smooth a ride in fact, that it would be interesting, to see the show without him to compare how well it works.
As the dude Will, Matthew A. Anderson provides a fun slacker who isn't taking anything seriously except his 420. Constantly apologizing for his lack of long term and short term memory, the guy delivers the character's insightful lines through a hash induced haze with a note of authenticity. His Will is just enough, the character never eclipses Henry, yet is never drowned out by Lefkowitz's fast pace.
In the role of Henry's girlfriend, Tessa Klein moves from depressed twentysomething to happy thirtysomething very believably, especially considering how the character's onstage time is in a series of frequent snippets. Dude, she does funny depressed really well.
Ironically dude, Maureen Rohn's Producer's Daughter comes across as the most mature person onstage. She may be confused and spoiled, but you still end up liking this jaded twenty-three year old who keeps her most intimate thoughts online and constantly wonders why she is a mess.
And finally as the Tortured Genius, Alexander Strain is terrific as a kind of musical theatre idiot savant who started drinking with his dad at age nine and now spends most of his time on retreat and hiding from the phone.
Dude, this is a show you gotta see, cause it just makes you smile. Just like those old musicals of the silver screen!