Zach Grenier and Jane Fonda in 33 Variations/ Photo by Joan Marcus
It’s a testament to director Moisés Kaufman that even as playwright Kaufman is transparently tugging heartstrings with his 33 Variations script, his production of the play is nonetheless moving.
Under anyone else’s direction, the final scene of act one would have been unbearably schmaltzy. Slowly deteriorating from Lou Gehrig’s disease, musicologist Katherine Brandt (Jane Fonda) is desperate for the time to complete her final book, a study of Beethoven’s 33 variations on a minor waltz. As the act ends, the conversation between Brandt and the head of the Beethoven archives in Bonn is echoed by Katherine’s daughter Clara (Samantha Mathis) and her new boyfriend (Colin Hanks) and Beethoven himself (Zach Grenier) and his assistant Schindler (Erik Steele). As the characters deliver the same lines in different contexts or beg for the opposite things, the emotions reach a crescendo that is both technically suspect and undeniably touching. Which is as good a description of the play as any other, really.
Under Kaufman’s firm hand, the flaws of his play are obscured both by the talent of his actors and the newsworthy return of film star Jane Fonda to Broadway after four decades. And what a delight to see Fonda giving the kind of prickly, intelligent performance that made her an icon, rather her much-anticipated (and ultimately disappointing) film return a few years ago opposite Jennifer Lopez in Monster-in-Law. Crisply delivering exposition and unwittingly destroying her slightly estranged daughter with off-hand remarks, Fonda’s Dr. Brandt is an echo of the women who made her a feminist icon, now older and coming to terms with mortality.
But 33 Variations is anything but a vanity project designed to showcase Fonda at her best. In addition to her gradual transformation from an acerbic researcher to a frail woman in a wheelchair, Fonda shares the stage with plenty of talented actors, all of whom have the chance to shine. Mathis and Hanks both bring a prickly vulnerability to their scenes together that elevates what often seems like a romantic subplot shoehorned into the script as evidence that even amidst death, life still carries on. But it’s Susan Kellermann as the very German Dr. Ladenburger who steals the show with her slow thaw from uptight archivist to surprisingly inventive friend, one who suggests hiring a male prostitute to perk Katherine up.
Kaufman’s biggest misstep as playwright is the inclusion of Beethoven and his milieu. Watching Beethoven, his assistant and his publisher arguing, discussing,and ooohing over the variations detracts from Katherine and her struggle far more than Beethoven’s own physical struggles enhance the play’s running thread of mortality—especially when Katherine makes a discovery that contradicts what we’ve thus far seen of Beethoven and Schindler. In some ways, the audience resents the time taken for Beethoven’s story for allowing us less Fonda time. Seeing a living legend giving such a marvelous stage performance this late in her career is a rare treat, and we long for more.
Through May 24. Eugene O’Neill Theatre, 230 W. 49th St. (between 8th & 9th Aves.), 212-239-6200, $67–$117.
Under anyone else’s direction, the final scene of act one would have been unbearably schmaltzy. Slowly deteriorating from Lou Gehrig’s disease, musicologist Katherine Brandt (Jane Fonda) is desperate for the time to complete her final book, a study of Beethoven’s 33 variations on a minor waltz. As the act ends, the conversation between Brandt and the head of the Beethoven archives in Bonn is echoed by Katherine’s daughter Clara (Samantha Mathis) and her new boyfriend (Colin Hanks) and Beethoven himself (Zach Grenier) and his assistant Schindler (Erik Steele). As the characters deliver the same lines in different contexts or beg for the opposite things, the emotions reach a crescendo that is both technically suspect and undeniably touching. Which is as good a description of the play as any other, really.
Under Kaufman’s firm hand, the flaws of his play are obscured both by the talent of his actors and the newsworthy return of film star Jane Fonda to Broadway after four decades. And what a delight to see Fonda giving the kind of prickly, intelligent performance that made her an icon, rather her much-anticipated (and ultimately disappointing) film return a few years ago opposite Jennifer Lopez in Monster-in-Law. Crisply delivering exposition and unwittingly destroying her slightly estranged daughter with off-hand remarks, Fonda’s Dr. Brandt is an echo of the women who made her a feminist icon, now older and coming to terms with mortality.
But 33 Variations is anything but a vanity project designed to showcase Fonda at her best. In addition to her gradual transformation from an acerbic researcher to a frail woman in a wheelchair, Fonda shares the stage with plenty of talented actors, all of whom have the chance to shine. Mathis and Hanks both bring a prickly vulnerability to their scenes together that elevates what often seems like a romantic subplot shoehorned into the script as evidence that even amidst death, life still carries on. But it’s Susan Kellermann as the very German Dr. Ladenburger who steals the show with her slow thaw from uptight archivist to surprisingly inventive friend, one who suggests hiring a male prostitute to perk Katherine up.
Kaufman’s biggest misstep as playwright is the inclusion of Beethoven and his milieu. Watching Beethoven, his assistant and his publisher arguing, discussing,and ooohing over the variations detracts from Katherine and her struggle far more than Beethoven’s own physical struggles enhance the play’s running thread of mortality—especially when Katherine makes a discovery that contradicts what we’ve thus far seen of Beethoven and Schindler. In some ways, the audience resents the time taken for Beethoven’s story for allowing us less Fonda time. Seeing a living legend giving such a marvelous stage performance this late in her career is a rare treat, and we long for more.
Through May 24. Eugene O’Neill Theatre, 230 W. 49th St. (between 8th & 9th Aves.), 212-239-6200, $67–$117.
Sinibaldi
