Philanthropist Fails to Invest in Plot, Dialogue
By Lauren Yarger
Christopher Hampton’s The Philanthropist starts off with a bang – a literal one – as one of the characters blows his brains out in full graphic detail. Who he is and why he’s there and why the two professors to whom he was pitching his new play seem to think it’s funny to make “empty headed” jokes about him later isn’t really known.
As the production running at American Airlines Theatre continues, we discover that lots of things aren’t known, like why the Roundabout Theatre Company thought such a boring piece of drivel, written as an opposing view to Moliere's The Misanthrope, should be financed as a Broadway show or why talented stars like Matthew Broderick and Steven Weber would want to be in it. The play is not often produced. We understand why.
Broderick stars as Philip, a boring professor of words, who has a lot of trouble communicating. He is engaged to graduate student Celia (Anna Madeley), though how such a boring milquetoast could have attracted or won Celia, or anyone for that matter, is left unanswered. His friend and colleague Donald (Weber) suggests that he really is in love with shy Elizabeth (Samantha Soule), who is so shy, she never utters word (unless I missed it when my mind was wandering during the pointless dialogue to more interesting things like what I needed from the grocery store that week). Meanwhile, Araminta (Jennifer Mudge) has her eye on Philip (why, we don’t know) and manages to seduce him, though the encounter is less than satisfactory and we’re supposed to find this to be an interesting plot point, despite the fact that Philip is the most boring person on the planet and his lack of enthusiasm is hardly a surprise.
Meanwhile, obnoxious acquaintance Braham (Jonathan Cake, though the night I attended, I saw understudy Matthieu Cornillon) has a thing for Celia. Cornillon brought some humor to the character and for a few moments, gave the play, directed by David Grindley, its only signs of life. He was gone too soon.
Milk, bread, peanut butter, eggs… Oh, sorry, my mind wandered back to the shopping list there for a moment. Some more attempts at plot and dialogue pass and Philip and Araminta decide to part. Then a really bizarre thing happened. Broderick poured himself a bowl of cereal and the audience laughed. He poured sugar on it: more laughter. He poured milk on top: even more laughs. At this point, I think the audience just wanted something – anything – about which to laugh or care about at all. Broderick’s nerdy Philip eating a spoonful of the cereal brought more jovial response from the audience. His ensuing dialogue with Araminta did not.
At one point, Weber dropped a line. At least I and my audience neighbors discussing this at intermission, think he did. The round of apparent prompts from his cast mates to get him back on track might very well have been part of the intended dialogue since the whole play sounds like one big dropped line. It really was hard to tell.
All of the characters attempt to do English accents (the play is set in 1970s England) and have varying degrees of success. I started to regret not counting how many times Broderick's character responded with a highly accented, “What?” At least it would have kept my mind occupied.
In the midst of the ennui, Tobin Ost’s outlandish and garishly colored costumes for the women stand out against the plain and imposing walls of Philip’s quarters as designed by Tim Shortall. Those walls offer one of the most exciting parts of the production: a border of lighted letters that scramble, then spell out the seven deadly sins in between scenes. Overall, The Philanthropist fails to give us an interesting theater experience, but I did come away with one valuable thing: a completed grocery list for the week.
The Philanthropist plays at American Airlines Theatre, 227 West 42nd Street, NYC through June 28. For tickets, visit www.roundabouttheatre.org.
Christians might also like to know:
• The suicide is very bloody
• Lord’s name taken in vain
• Sexual dialogue
• Language
• Sex Outside of Marriage
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