Angst in a New York condo
By Juliet Schoen/Staff Writer
Anyone allergic to theater pieces about Jewish New Yorkers and their shtick will find “The Tale of the Allergist’s Wife” rather tedious. The humor is overworked, the acting is over-the-top and the writing by Charles Busch is overwrought. All along, you can sense the actors are reading lines.
The allergist’s wife is played by Valerie Harper, the New York specialist who was such a delight on the “Mary Tyler Moore” show. Here she is a screeching ninny who never lets her voice get below the decibels recorded during a Lakers game. As the play revolves around her problems as a frustrated housewife with intellectual affectations, she quickly becomes a bore. After all, she has a tolerant (if somewhat self-satisfied) husband, a “bee-oo-tiful” apartment (a highlight of the production) and all the money needed to shop at Saks Fifth Avenue. Are we to sympathize because her therapist died?
Unfortunately, she also has a Jewish Mother, with all the trite characteristics associated with that job. This mother is not only a classic nag, she has certain digestive problems which crop up ad nauseam (an apt phrase). She is burdened with junior high school level lines, but her constant referrals to suppositories provide an adult perspective. Shirl Bernheim offers a gallant performance in this thankless role. Tony Robert is stuck playing the doctor who has nothing to do and not much to say. He does seem to care about his wife and, for this, the poor schnook deserves a bow. In a minor role, Anil Kumar does well.
Aside from a magnificent chandelier, the bright spot of the show is Michele Lee who lights up the production with her presence. Chic and exuberant as the ultimate career woman, is she too good to be true? She is one of the best characters to show up on stage this year. If only the other cast members were as intriguing.
Santo Loquasto is the set designer and his gorgeous New York condo almost makes a visit to the Ahmanson Theater worthwhile. (Was he inspired by the designer rooms at Bloomingdale’s?) Christopher Akerlind is the lighting designer who does wonders with the aforementioned chandelier. Meadow does the best she can as the director.
Los Angeles playgoers may find humor in the jargon of New York’s culture vultures, but the stereotypes pall.