Marcel on the Train review

Ethan Slater in Marcel on the Train (Emilio Madrid) 

Before Marcel Marceau captivated the world with his silent art, the famous mime was a young Jewish man in Nazi-occupied France. And an unsung hero who helped to smuggle Jewish children across the Swiss border and out of harm's way.

It's unfortunate that such an amazing story fails to come alive dramatically in Marcel on the Train, an intimate 100-minute play by Marshall Pailet and Ethan Slater (from the Wicked movies). Pailet directs and Slater tackles the title role in Classic Stage Company's Off Broadway production, which unsuccessfully casts adults as the four orphan children Marcel, posing as a scoutmaster, shepherds across France in a train car. 

Part of Marcel on the Train's problem is that the four kids — played by Alex Wyse, Maddie Corman, Max Gordon Moore and Tedra Millan, all accomplished actors — aren't given the depth of characterization that, for example, the child characters (also played by adults) receive in The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. 

The boys bicker; Corman's character, Etiennette, doesn't speak a word, while Millan's weak-bladdered Berthe is convinced she won't live to see adulthood. Marcel playfully tries to ease their fears, engaging them in games and showing them how to make shadow puppets with their hands, but the sequence drags on until real danger threatens, in the form of a Nazi officer (a chilling Aaron Serotsky) who inspects their car.

But despite the danger they face, the characters in Marcel on the Train are too thinly sketched to fully captivate audiences. I'd love to read more about their exploits, but this well-intended drama doesn't do them justice. 

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee review

Justin Cooley in Spelling Bee. (Joan Marcus)

Think life isn't fair? What if you're a middle school student competing in a spelling bee and the word you have is "strabismus," while one of your opponents gets "pineapple"?

In The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, a nostalgic charmer of a musical currently being revived Off Broadway at New World Stages, you lament your plight in a song called "Pandemonium": "Life is random and unfair/Life is pandemonium."

It may be for the six smarty students vying for victory, but audiences who long for more character-rich tuners will find their innocence and genuineness a welcome reprieve from the bleakness of grown-up life in this 20-year-old original musical by William Finn (music and lyrics) and Rachel Sheinkin (book).

Played by adults, this mixed-up group of misfits endure the pressure of competition and the stress of adolescence, and the ensemble cast in director-choreographer Danny Mefford's beautifully affecting production imbue them with heart and humor.

With an absentee mother and a busy father, lonely Olive Ostrovsky (understudy Emily N. Rudolph at the performance I caught) had to transport herself to the event. William Barfee (Glee's Kevin McHale), likely on the spectrum, uses his "magic foot" to spell words on the floor. Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre (Cecilia Snow, also an understudy) feels pressure from her two dads to win. 

Marcy Park (Leana Rose Concepcion) also faces familial pressure, but has a creative solution to it. Leaf Coneybear (Justin Cooley) appears to be a goofball, but when he starts to spell there's no stopping him. And poor Chip Tolentino (Philippe Arroyo), last year's winner. His out-of-control hormones could be his Achilles' heel this year.

Corralling the kids are three adults: former spelling bee champ Rona Lisa Peretti (Lili Cooper); "comfort counselor" Mitch Mahoney, ready to hand out juice boxes and hugs; and vice principal Douglas Panch (Jason Kravits), tasked with giving the kids their words — and using them in hilarious sentences.

That the kids' struggles are relatable to those of us who are long passed puberty shows how strong the material is. What's especially endearing about Spelling Bee is how unique and original the characters and songs are. At a time when so many new musicals are based on movies and filled with forgettable songs, this show's eccentricities seem all the more welcoming.

Bug review

Carrie Coon and Namir Smallwood in Bug (Matthew Murphy)

Conspiracy theories didn't begin with social media, as Tracy Letts' dark psychological thriller from 1996, proves. Now making its Broadway debut at the Friedman Theatre courtesy of Manhattan Theatre Club, Bug presents a chilling portrait of two lost souls who forge a connection that ultimately leads to their undoing in the most horrific way.

Agnes (Carrie Coon) and Peter (Namir Smallwood) use drugs to cope with their pain. She's the mother of a boy who went missing on her watch; he suffers from a mental illness that landed him in a military hospital. Their meeting in an Oklahoma motel room leads to a sexual encounter and growing paranoia over the "bugs" that seem to have infiltrated their bodies. Is the military trying to capture Peter so it can continue experimenting on him? Is Agnes' ex-husband Jerry (Steve Key), now out of prison, trying to take revenge? Or is this just the only way their troubled minds can cope?    

The influence of Sam Shepard pervades the drama, from its increasingly bleak setting to its downtrodden characters. Coon bares soul and body to reveal a woman cracking from within. Smallwood's performances can't quite match hers (or that of Michael Shannon, who played Peter Off Broadway in the play's premiere in 2004).  

In fact, those who've seen Bug in its more intimate confines likely won't be as impressed with David Cromer's new production, or its excruciating ending. But those experiencing the play for the first time — likely the majority of the audience — likely will be mesmerized by Bug's bleak portrait of darkness and despair.