Robert O’Hara’s scalding new comedy Shit. Meet. Fan. was sold out before it even opened, and it’s riotously funny, as were his previous works Bootycandy and Barbecue, but it’s not really anything new. The hit status can be attributed to a cast stuffed with familiar TV names (such as Neil Patrick Harris, Jane Krakowski, Debra Messing and Constance Wu) and a limited run in a small Off-Broadway space at MCC Theater. The script is based on Paolo Genovese’s 2016 Italian film called Perfect Strangers which has had many remakes in various languages and the basic premise is familiar from numerous American plays. As in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and The Boys in the Band, a group of friends gather for an evening of cocktails, but a seemingly harmless party game reveals uncomfortable truths and relationships are altered or shattered. The modern twist here is all seven guests are required to leave their cell phones on a table for an hour and whatever messages, texts, calls or email come in must be shared with the entire group. 
Debra Messing and Jane Krakowksi
in Shit. Meet. Fan.
Credit: Julieta Cervantes
Naturally, each of the participants has at least one secret, mostly of a sexual nature, to hide and they all come spilling out electronically, often to hilarious results. Even though the format and revelations are hardly surprising, the magic trick here is how O’Hara as both playwright and director pulls back the curtain to expose them and how the expert cast reacts to their characters’ metaphorical nakedness as the titular action unfolds. As author, O’Hara plants seeds of details early in the evening which blossom into riotous embarrassment and conflict. No spoilers, but a pair of earrings and a necklace become very important and the switching of two cellphones leads to the funniest bits of the entire show.
As director, O’Hara stages the roundelay of betrayal on Clint Ramos’ elegant, two-level set like a commanding ringmaster, cracking his whip to get the maximum laughs at precisely the right moment. Watch how two of the wives not-so-subtly move as one on the sofa so as to eavesdrop more easily to the warring twosome who just dropped a huge source of struggle. In another masterful piece of staging, O’Hara often has all seven of the partygoers having their own individual business, but, with the aide of Alex Jainchill’s clever lighting, we know exactly where to look. Yes, this is a formula play of sorts, but it’s directed and acted with such professional polish, the familiar structure doesn’t interfere with having a non-stop laugh riot. 
Garret Dillahunt, Debra Messing, Tramell Tillman,
Michael Oberholtzer and Constance Wu in
Shit. Meet. Fan.
Credit: Julieta Cervantes
The cast of eight (the additional character is the sexually precocious teenaged daughter of the homeowners) has a grand time dissecting these deceivers. Messing provides the most interesting characterization as the hot-mess alcoholic Claire (perhaps a reference to the alcoholic sister in Albee’s A Delicate Balance?). She covers up Claire’s rage and guilt with gossip-mongering and giggles, finally revealing her shattered soul in a blatant tour de force of exhibitionism. Krakowski and Harris spar admirably as the battling hosts. Garret Dillahunt and Michael Oberholtzer skillfully embody childish frat boys in adult bodies. Trammel Tillman has the difficult task as the sole African-American friend, acting as the group’s conscious and delivering the playwright’s message in a big “eff-you” monologue to his pals. He manages to pull it off as does Wu as Oberholtzer’s Asian girlfriend uncovering her own buried anger. Genevieve Hannelius adds snark as the bratty teen. 
Neil Patrick Harris and Jane Krakowski
in Shit. Meet. Fan.
Credit: Julieta Cervantes
There are flaws here. The high number of indiscretions and infidelities stretches credulity and the fact that the two minority characters are the only ones even relatively not repulsive is a bit heavy-handed. But these caveats dissolve in a salvo of screaming laughter.
Like Shit. Meet. Fan., Katori Hall’s The Blood Quilt at Lincoln Center’s Off-Broadway Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater, employs a familiar plot structure which it overcomes with strong acting and direction. This is yet another family dysfunction play where surviving, estranged siblings gather at the homestead to reveal secrets and confront long-held grudges after the death of a beloved/hated parent (depending on which sibling you are.) We’ve seen this type of show already once this season with Jez Butterworth’s The Hills of California.
Lauren E. Banks, Mirirai, Adrienne C. Moore,
Susan Kelechi Watson and Crystal Dickinson
in The Blood Quilt.
Credit: Julieta Cervantes
Set in set designer Adam Rigg’s homey “country chic” cabin on an island off the coast of Georgia in 2015, Hall’s quartet of African-American sisters, like their white British counterparts in Butterworth’s play, have plenty of past regrets to unearth. They share a mother who has just passed away but each has a different father. In addition to family connections, what binds them together is an annual quilting ritual where they sign the corners of their work in blood.
Eldest sister Clementine (fiesty and furious Crystal Dickinson) had been caring for her invalid mother and is now confronted with a massive tax debt. Gio (volcanic Adrienne C. Moore), a Mississippi-based police officer, resents her mom’s neglect and takes it out on the youngest daughter Amber (complex Lauren E. Banks), an entertainment lawyer whose high salary has helped pay for her family’s various needs. Cassan, short for Cassandra (sturdy Susan Kelechi Watson), is an Army nurse whose marriage to a career soldier is on shaky ground. Her daughter Zambia (a delightfully enthusiastic Mirirai) is going through many identity crises including her religion and sexuality.
At close to three hours, Hall’s drama is infused with poetry and pathos and she deftly explores themes of family history vs. practicality as the sisters struggle to save their heritage, confront ghosts, and find their identities. But this Quilt could use some cutting. Each sibling has her own revelation and accompanying dramatic monologue and, like the secrets in Shit. Meet. Fan., they tend to pile up and feel repetitive. After you think nothing more can happen following the first-act curtain, more plots twists and turns are added after intermission. Without revealing any spoilers, there are elements of The Color Purple and The Piano Lesson in an already crowded script as the women clash and collide over their past and finally reach a resolution on their uncertain future.
Susan Kelechi Watson, Crystal Dickinson,
Lauren E. Banks and Adrienne C. Moore
in The Blood Quilt.
Credit: Julieta Cervatnes
Director Lileana Blain-Cruz keeps the action moving and holds our attention even as the action borders on melodrama. Jiyoun Chang’s lighting and Jeanette Oi-Suk Yew’s projections evoke the surrounding waters of the family’s island home and create an atmosphere alternating between cozy-warm and spooky-frightening. Each of the five-member cast commits fully to their objectives, balancing Hall’s mysticism with gritty realism. Moore is particularly moving in a recreation of childhood trauma and Dickinson is commanding as the eldest sister striving to maintain her authority and loving compassion.
As with the titular quilt the characters work on over the course of the play, there are many fascinating pieces in Hall’s work, it’s just a little overwhelming to take in all of them in one sitting.
Shit. Meet. Fan.: Nov. 18—Dec. 15. MCC Theater Space, 511 W. 52nd St., NYC. Running time: one hour and 45 mins. with no intermission. mcctheater.org.
The Blood Quilt: Nov. 21—Dec. 29. Lincoln Center Theater at the Mitzi Newhouse Theater, 150 W. 65th St., NYC. Running time: two hours and 45 mins. including intermission. lct.org.
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