"The Prisoner of Second Avenue", by Neil Simon, returns us to an Aquarian Age before Global Warming, when glib New York comedies were automatically cool. Reviving these tried-and-true chestnuts is a challenge since they don't exactly fit with today's organic acting methods. Such glorified tv situation comedies demand a metro-fast pace with hard-rail characterization as they roll from cliche to punchline with only token reflection on darker sidetracks. "Prisoner" did miss one chance to "break out" of the schlock genre when housebound hubby takes up painting -- when being laid off might have become a golden opportunity for onstage unfolding of long-buried art talent.
Having said all this, the director (Amanda Steurer) cast the play well and stages it nicely. The apartment setting (Terry Tenneson) is a wonderful rabbit warren of alcoves. The small kitchen with its painted cabinets and the hallway of family photos are my mother's old house along with a few sight-line issues. The set has a finished Seventies look, though the building next door is a work in progress. Balcony shouting and background street noise give us a flavor of the Big Apple (as does Lew's applejack cocktail at halftime). The costumes (Dessa McFadin) are fun, the lighting design (Adam Matthew) functional, and the large flat-screen tv emblematic of future news-streaming.
Mel (Dave Cunningham) is very credible in the challenging lead role of a paranoid schlemiel in hard times. Edna (Erin Lamb) plays the quiet long-suffering wife who, whenever she channels Fran Drescher, makes us laugh. The sibling scene is a welcome comic treat. Pauline (Marcia Perlstein) feeds us all the one-liners we crave and the coffee sequences with upright Harry (David Hillman) are downright funny.
On balance, I give this production of "The Prisoner of Second Avenue" 4 amateur stars.
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