University of Virginia Library

Broadway Beat

Laughing On Cue With Simon

By STEVE WELLS

NEW YORK — Neil Simon,
the most prolific playwright in
theatre today and quite
probably the best comedy
writer in the history of the
American stage, has another
smash hit. It is entitled "The
Prisoner of Second Avenue"
and, like all of Simon's plays, it
keeps the audience in a happy
state of laughter. No one —
repeat, no one — can write
comic dialogue and create
humorous situations as
skillfully as Simon can.

Yet there's a flaw in the
gem. Despite its many
good-natured laughs, "The
Prisoner of Second Avenue"
isn't as totally satisfying as
some of Simon's earlier plays.
You can't help but admire it;
why then is it so hard to warm
up to it?

The main trouble, I think, is
that everything about the play
seems mechanical rather than
human. It's slick, professional,
and cold. For some reason it is
difficult to sympathize with
the protagonist — a middle-aged
executive en route to a nervous
breakdown due to the
pressures and tribulations
brought about by city life. You
laugh at his antics, but you
don't feel for him. You begin
to think you've seen both him
and the play before (actually,
the whole enterprise could
serve as a sequel to Simon's
film "The Out-of-Towners"
with the title changed to "The
In-Towners") and recognize
him as little more than a
mouthpiece for Simon's wit.

This isn't to take anything
away from Peter Falk, who
plays the role with a superb
flair for Simon's style of
comedy. Ditto Lee Grant as his
wife. As for director Mike
Nichols, this is his fourth
collaboration with Simon (the
superior "Barefoot in the
Park," "The Odd Couple," and
"Plaza Suite" being the others).
In the past, their work has
resulted in unprecedented
commercial appeal; now the
commercialism is apparent on
the stage as well as at the box
office. Still, no two men can
make an audience laugh on cue
any better, and "The Prisoner
of Second Avenue" is sure to
be around for a long time.

* * *

George Furth, the author of
the hit musical "Company,"
took the title of his new
comedy, "Twigs," from a line
in Alexander Pope's Moral
Essays, "Just as the twig is
bent, the tree's inclined."
From this, he has written four
short playlets about three
women and their acerbic but
lovable mother.

In the first, chatterbox
Emily moves into a new home
and strikes up a relationship
with the moving man. In the
second, Celia reflects over
missed opportunities as she
listens to her crass, redneck
husband and an old friend
carry on a conversation into
which she is not welcomed. In
the third, Dorothy and her
husband learn that they really

do love each other after a
quarter of a century of
marriage. And finally, Ma
makes a dying request, not so
much with love as with
sardonic determination and
domination.

"Twigs" is never offensive
or dull, but nor is it ever
particularly exciting; rather, it
is pleasantly tolerable. The
four episodes are no more than
looks at characters and the way
they live — often shallow,
often poorly developed. It's
situation comedy, Carol
Burnett style, in fact, television
is probably where. "Twigs"
belongs. It seems a bit too
thin for Broadway.

Whether it was Furth,
producer Frederick Brisson, or
director Michael Bennett who
decided to cast one actress in
all four female roles, it was a
very wise decision, especially
when that actress is Sada
Thompson, who was brilliant
in Paul Zindel's "The Effect of
Gamma Rays on
Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds"
two seasons ago.

Here Miss Thompson gives
an extraordinarily versatile,
probably Tony Award
performance. With the help of
director Bennett, she is able to
give considerably more
substance to each of the four
women than Furth has
supplied in the script. Her
rendition of a song-and-dance
that Celia did in an old-time
Hollywood musical is at once
outrageously funny and
pathetically heartbreaking. If
"Twigs" is remembered years
hence, she'll be the reason.