"Four Bites of the Big Apple"
Ordinary Days, Adam
Gwon’s bookless, sung-through, chamber musical, is one of those intimate little
shows that has gained something of a cult following with its depiction of young
strivers seeking love and fulfillment within the bustle of New York City. Following
its 2008 premiere in London’s Off West End, it was given an admired Off-Broadway
production by Roundabout in 2009 and has had multiple international stagings since
then. Its first New York revival, kicking off the Keen Company’s 19th season, is enjoyably well done but nothing notably out of the ordinary.
 |
| Whitney Bashor, Kyle Sherman. Photo: Carol Rosegg. |
Performed on a utilitarian set of black platforming and
translucent cube-like enclosures (one of them hiding its piano, reed, and bass
orchestra, led by John Bell), it’s about two couples. One is Deb (Sarah Lynn
Marion) and Warren (Kyle Sherman), the other is Jason (Marc delaCruz) and
Claire (Whitney Bashor). A flip phone reminds us that it’s 2007.
Warren’s a gay, sweet-natured, somewhat nerdy, aspiring artist who does odd
jobs (like cat-sitting and handing out flyers) for a trust fund-wealthy artist.
Deb’s a sassy-mouthed grad student who’s at her wit’s end because she’s lost her loosely
bound book of research notes for a thesis on Virginia Woolf. Warren finds the
notes, notices Deb’s email address, and arranges to meet her at the
Metropolitan Museum to return them.
Their bumpy friendship begins when the distressed Deb has a rude (and rather unconvincing) way of showing her appreciation, calling Warren a “fucking weirdo.” Of course, as they discuss art and aspirations, they eventually resolve their mutual issues as they discover “the big picture” of their mutual ambitions.
Their bumpy friendship begins when the distressed Deb has a rude (and rather unconvincing) way of showing her appreciation, calling Warren a “fucking weirdo.” Of course, as they discuss art and aspirations, they eventually resolve their mutual issues as they discover “the big picture” of their mutual ambitions.
 |
| Kyle Sherman, Sarah Lynn Marion. Photo: Carol Rosegg. |
Jason and Claire are seriously in love. He lives 14 blocks
away and wants to be closer, so they agree on his moving in with her. This, though,
causes their relationship to stumble. Because of tensions Claire’s feeling but that
we can’t at first fathom, his proposal that they marry causes their break up. Only
later, when Claire sings about it, do we learn the sad reason boy has lost girl.
Of course, there’s still time before the final curtain for boy to win girl
again.
 |
| Sarah Lynn Marion, Kyle Sherman. Photo: Carol Rosegg. |
Each couple’s story is enacted separately from the other in
alternating scenes. While the couples never actually meet, they now and then
pass each other as people occupying the same urban space. The thinness of Gwon’s
plotting is not substantially enhanced by these unsurprising characters, nor are the experiences they encounter notably illuminating. It’s
all pleasant enough but there’s a been-there, heard-and-seen-that feeling that
simply fails to ignite.
 |
| Whitney Bashor, Marc delaCruz. Photo: Carol Rosegg. |
The burden of maintaining our interest lies in the sequence
of Gwon’s narratively-oriented songs, whose clever lyrics define who’s singing
them and provide the expository background. A couple of numbers stand out from
the 14 heard in this revival, one of those that most delighted me being “Calm,”
a rapid patter song Deb performs while standing in a crowded subway car as she fights
to find calm amidst all the pressures she’s feeling.
The excellence of Sarah Lynn Marion’s lightly comic
rendition is matched by Whitney Bashor’s moving expression of Claire’s “I’ll Be
Here,” the 11 o'clock number in which we learn what’s behind Claire’s commitment issues. Admittedly, despite
the reason being a contrivance that expects the knee jerk response it receives, it’s still hard not to feel a lump in your throat when you hear it.
Too many of the other numbers, though, are in the generic, faux-Sondheim
mode of narrating rhyming exposition to a steady beat. Their witty lyrics are
often a delight but the melodies tend to bleed into one another.
 |
| Sarah Lynn Marion, Kyle Sherman. Photo: Carol Rosegg. |
Jonathan Silverstein’s direction elicits all the right emotional
notes from his appealing cast, whom he moves about with spirited élan. The
performers have charm, fine voices, and the acting skills to bring their
songs to life. Visually, though, Steven C. Kemp’s neutral set is too bland, and
Anshuman Batia’s lighting, despite his use of marquee light strips, could do more
to kick up the effect. Jennifer Paar provides amusingly kooky clothes for Deb
and Warren; Claire and Jason, not so much.
 |
| Marc delaCruz, Kyle Sherman, Sarah Lynn Marion, Whitney Bashor. Photo: Carol Rosegg. |
What most catches your eye comes when, near the end of this
80-minute show, Deb and Warren toss dozens of colored pages (his art and her
notes) into the air, creating a vivid paper rainstorm. At that moment, the too
frequently ordinary Ordinary Days becomes
extraordinary.
 |
| Kyle Sherman, Sarah Lynn Marion. Photo: Carol Rosegg. |
OTHER VIEWPOINTS:
Clurman Theatre/Theatre Row
410 W. 42nd St., NYC
Through November 17