Off-B'way Review: Good Time Charlie; Fish; Anon

Ryan Haddad and Jonathan Raviv in
Good Time Charlie.
Credit: Joan Marcus

“There is no plot, but there is a narrative,” exclaims Ryan J. Haddad in his autobiographical play Good Time Charlie, at the Public Theater. Despite the lack of a cohesive storyline, this is a heartwarming, tender love letter to a cherished relative and a celebration of theatre fandom and participation. Haddad is playing a version of himself, and when speaking this line about the plotnessess of his work, he is explaining to the character enacting the title figure, his beloved uncle Charlie, that they are not in a conventional “well-made” play. Instead they are in a tender evocation of Ryan’s childhood, his relationship with Charlie, their mutual love of theater and their contrasting experiences as gay men of different generations. Several playwrights have offered similar strolls down memory lane, most recently Joshua Harmon with We Had a World in which Broadway-loving, gay narrator-protagonist similarly declared “There is no straight line in this play.” Like Harmon’s evocation of his past, Charlie is a combination love letter and excorism of family secrets and buried resentments told in meta-theatrical terms, often directly to the audience.

Haddad has previously explored his background and development as a gay, handicapped Lebanese-American theater artist in solo or semi-solo shows such as Hold Me in the Water and Dark Disabled Stories. Here he expands his canvas to include his whole family, focusing on his uncle (actually a cousin) who introduced him to theater and encouraged him to fully explore his sexual identity. Haddad and Jonathan Raviv as Charlie have a believable bond as the relatives seeking strength and comfort from each other and sharing a joy of the stage.

Ryan Haddad, Tim Bagley, Beth Malone,
Jonathan Raviv, and Michael Cristofer in
Good Time Charlie.
Credit: Joan Marcus

We also meet Charlie’s empathic partner Lou (warm and loving Tim Bagley from Will and Grace), their longtime friend Sheldon (acerbic and tender Michael Cristofer) who runs a revival cinema, Ryan’s supportive lesbian aunt Janice (sturdy Beth Malone), and the parents of both Ryan and Charlie who deal with their offspring’s coming out in vastly different ways. Nael Nacer and Artemis Pebdani double as both sets of elders, differentiating between the two with subtle variations and with the aide of Robert Pickens’ hair and wig design.

Haddad’s script is somewhat rambling, but does offer a moving, funny portrait of his family. He contrasts his own mom and dad’s accepting of his being gay with Charlie’s parents violently rejecting him decades earlier. Theater and classical movie fans will enjoy the numerous references to Broadway and Hollywood icons. How many other plays include allusions to the 1990s TV-movie version of Cinderella and Alice Faye in Hello, Frisco, Hello? 

The play is entertaining and heartwarming but doesn’t say very much new. Danny Sharon directs with speed and fluidity and Afsoon Pajoufar’s lush garden setting evokes the idealized version of Ryan’s early days. 

Melis Aker’s Fish (a co-production of WP Theater and Signature Theater) is also an exploration of fraught family dynamics, but unlike Charlie, leans heavily on plot and goes further into the social context of its characters. It also subtly makes its points rather than telling us what we should think or conclude. This is a scathing, prickly comedy intelligently exploring immigration, adolescence, mother-daughter dynamics and the potential ill effects of the Internet. 

Alyssa May Gold and Yasmin Ranz-Lind
in Fish.
Credit: Joan Marcus

Set in 2016 London on the eve of Brexit, the play centers on Karya (excellently amusing and vulnerable Yasmin Ranz-Lind), a Turkish-British teen coping with the disappearance of her brother as well as her mother Ceyda (magnificently wry Roxanna Hope Radja)’s obsession with finding the missing son after two years. With the aide of her snarky BFF Libby (acidic Alyssa May Gold), Karya attempts to infiltrate the dark web in search of her sibling, setting up “deep fakes” with possible ISIS recruits. In a parallel plot arc, Ceyda signs Karya up for swimming lessons with handsome instructor John (charming Kario Marcel), evoking the ocean of Karya and Ceyda’s beachside Turkish hometown. Thus the title refers to both phishing and aquatic fish. The brother’s ex-girlfriend Isha (sharp-edged Sara Haider), from Pakistan, is drawn into this confusing household when her parents throw her out for being mixed up in a potential police investigation. 

Emmie Finckel’s set cleverly incorporates the white tile of a public pool while director Tatiana Pandiani creates the illusion of swimming as well as communicating via social media in a fluid staging.

The Internet also plays a huge part in Anne Washburn’s scathing but uneven Anon at MCC Theater. The first act of the play is piercing in its depiction of a conspiracy-theory obsessed Texas housewife and her potentially explosive relationship with her new neighbors, a gay couple from the Northeast. But the second act fails to bring the conflict to a satisfactory resolution and despite some spectacular storm effects (effective frightening lighting by Cha See and sound by Tei Blow), the drama fizzles out. 

Andrew Garman, Izabel Mar and Crystal Finn
in Anon. Credit: Monique Carboni

Washburn’s central premise is strong. Jeannie (fantastically complex Crystal Finn) obsessively posts on social media on every right-wing crackpot concept to the point of alienating her very bright teenage daughter Delia (luminous Izabel Mar) and incredibly indulgent husband Michael (solid Andrew Garman). Meanwhile the gay couple across the street (humorously endearing Jeff Biehl and Jeremy Shamos) are adjusting to their new surroundings and set the action in motion by displaying a gay pride flag.

It’s a great beginning. But Washburn does not bring the plot to full fruition. She does make pointed observations on the pervasive, addictive nature of social media and its divisive influence on American society. (Jeannie can’t even prepare a family meal without first photographing it with her phone and they posting it to Instagram.) In addition, director Anne Kaufman stages a well-paced production with gripping visuals and projections by Jared Mezzocchi. But the second act doesn’t deliver on the promise of the first. There is no direct confrontation between the two households and Washburn’s forced references to King Lear (the climactic thunderstorm as metaphor for a political one) don’t have much impact.

Jeremy Shamos, Jeff Biehl and Crystal Finn
(on screen) in Anon.
Credit: Monique Carboni

Finn is a wonder in her performance as Jeannie, concealing delusion beneath a mundane exterior. After intriguing turns in Cold War Choir Practice and The Saviors, she is becoming one of Off-Broadway’s most reliable performers. Her performance and that of the rest of the intense cast, along with Washburn’s insightful portrait of our media-mad society make for a thought-provoking, but not entirely satisfactory experience.

Good Time Charley: Oct. 9—25. Public Theater, 425 Lafayette St., NYC. Running time: two hours and 15 minutes including intermission. publictheater.org.

Fish: Oct. 11—25. WP Theater and Signature Theatre at WP Theater, 2162 Broadway, NYC. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission. ovationtix.com.

Anon: Oct. 13—Nov. 1. MCC Theater, 511 W. 52nd St., NYC. Running time: two hours and 10 mins. including intermission. mcctheater.org.