ONCE IN A BLUE MOON

Hats off to the five-member jury that awarded the Pulitzer Prize in drama to Doug Wright's "I Am My Own Wife." Smart choice. It doesn't always happen. But easy choice, too.

When "Wife" opened last December on Broadway, it bowled me over: "Once in a blue moon a play comes along that restores my belief in the vitality of the theater," I wrote. "Wife" bowled everyone over. The raves were unanimous. For the actor, too. Jefferson Mays is, after all, the sine qua non of this one-man piece. "Mays gives a virtuoso performance the likes of which comes along once in many blue moons," my review went on. "It is a spectacular achievement, but to describe it that way is to give a misleading impression.

Playing "multiple roles, chief among them a singular Berliner whose transvestitism is only one aspect of her unique identity ... Mays illuminates his impersonations with subtlety, not fireworks. He re-creates Charlotte von Mahlsdorf, who was a real-life figure, with a controlled, riveting intensity. His fusion of intelligence, feelings, irony and humor radiates heat and light, but purposely kept at room temperature. This allows Charlotte's bizarre survival story from the Nazi and Communist eras to unfold as part of daily experience rather than as blinding revelation."

The Pulitzer jurors were Ben Brantley, chief drama critic of The New York Times, who chaired the panel; Robert Brustein, theater critic of The New Republic and former artistic director of American Repertory Theater in Boston; Karen D'Sousa, drama critic of the San Jose Mercury News; Michael Phillips, drama critic of the Chicago Tribune; and Linda Winer, drama critic of Newsday.

In June we'll find out how smart the Tony Awards committee is. You'd think that "Wife" is a shoe-in for best play and Mays would win, hands down, for best actor. With the Tonys, however, even when the smart choice is the easy choice, you never know.

April 6, 2004 9:54 AM |

Categories:

Me Elsewhere

'WILD SIDE' STILL ROCKS 

Nelson Algren was one of the great American authors of the 20th century, it is no exaggeration to say, and among the most neglected. Consider his underrated classic, "A Walk on the Wild Side." The title -- popularized and co-opted as an idiomatic phrase by Hollywood and Madison Avenue (institutions Algren loathed) -- is familiar to most anyone who speaks English or knows Lou Reed's lyrics. But the novel itself? Hardly.

BUSTER KEATON REVISITED 
Buster Keaton: Tempest in a Flat Hat is not a biography. "This book is merely a fan's notes," Edward McPherson writes in the introduction, although his publisher ignores the disclaimer and calls it a biography on the cover. In fact, the book is a bit of both, a difficult combination to bring off unless you're David Thomson, who set the standard with Rosebud, his penetrating rumination on the life and career of Orson Welles, which was nothing if not a distillation of every obsessive thought he ever had about the myth and the man and all his movies.
LAUREN BACALL, STILL SALTY AT 80 
When Lauren Bacall writes that her singing voice ranges "somewhere between B minus sharp and outer space," she's being candid and funny. It's not every stage star with two Tony Awards for best actress in a musical whose vocal talent offers so little promise. (OK, Harvey Fierstein excepted.) Still less would one admit it.
THE STARS ACCORDING TO BOGDANOVICH 
Peter Bogdanovich's superb collection of movie-star profiles and interviews -- a sequel to Who the Devil Made It, his interviews of top film directors -- begins with an affectionate tale about Orson Welles that reminds us just how intimate the author's connection to Hollywood's greatest has been. But contrary to what we've come to expect from dime-a-dozen celebrities and celebrity interviews not worth two cents, the tale avoids bromidic egotism and journalistic platitudes.
SAMMY'S WHITE DREAMS 
Four decades ago Lenny Bruce sentenced Sammy Davis Jr. to "30 years in Biloxi," stripping him of "his Jewish star" and "his religious statue of Elizabeth Taylor." Now we have two new biographies of Davis that spring him from ridicule, if not from doubts about his legacy, and restore a measure of dignity to a black entertainer whose huge fame and success never overcame his devout wish -- indeed his lifelong effort -- to be white.
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