“The Real Thing” Broadway Review

“I’m acting normal! You’re all acting strange”.

For much of the beginning of Roundabout’s revival of “The Real Thing”, this quote by Maggie Gyllenhaal’s Annie holds very true. Director Sam Gold has crafted an uneven, sometimes frustrating, but ultimately rewarding revival of the Tom Stoppard classic.

One of the playwright’s finest plays; “The Real Thing” is an exploration of commitment and how we define fidelity. The excavation of the relationships on display was quite ahead of its time in its initial bow.

We are introduced to two couples. Henry (Ewan McGregor) is a playwright, his wife Charlotte (Cynthia Nixon) the lead in his play. Annie (Gyllenhaal) is a free spirited actress married to Charlotte’s co-star Max (Josh Hamilton). An affair is quickly revealed between Henry and Annie, curiously mimicking the fiction their better halves portray in Henry’s play. The two lovebirds must find out if love born out of betrayal can work, and whether tradition thoughts on monogamy are practical.

“The Real Thing” is arguably Tom Stoppard’s most accessible play. However, Mr. Gold has made a few frustrating choices with this production that do not help in that regard. As per most of Stoppard’s work, there are frequent time and location jumps. But, the decision to stage every scene in the same space makes realizing where and when the scene occurs more confusing than it ever needed to be. In the second act, there are a few simple furniture adjustments and a moving set piece that clearly delineate place. Why similar tactics weren’t used in act one is beyond me.

The two acts truly feel as if two different people directed them. It unfortunately permeates the acting as well. In the confusing first act, the performers seem inclined to overdo everything. Hamilton pushes every line out. As a result I’ve already forgotten most of what he said. Even the mighty Cynthia Nixon is far too affected with each gesture and phrase, sabotaging many of the laughs she’s trying for. For most of the first half you are watching people ACT rather than getting a glimpse into fully nuanced characters.

Fortunately, something magic clicks in act two. This is where Stoppard engages in his signature cerebral back and forth, and perhaps it’s the shift in tone that aids the troupe. Ewan McGegor really shines here. His Henry moves with gusto and surety as he confidently defends his worldviews to Annie, all the while revealing telling insecurities. Gyllenhaal matches him every step of the way, and is able to convey mountains physically, with a character that isn’t the verbal match of her writer sparring partner. Watching them negotiate their relationship is certainly the highlight of the play.

Essentially they all stop acting in act two, as Stoppard moves away from banter and delves into meatier ideas, and begin embodying relatable people. Even Cynthia Nixon gets a scene to redeem herself when Henry comes back to wish their daughter (Madeline Weinstein, in a fun wiser-for her age cameo). The now divorced couple reveal battle scars underneath the pleasantries that should resonate with anyone who fought and lost for love.

I almost forgot one other confusing directorial choice. They sing. For reasons beyond my comprehension, the actors come onto the stage as themselves to sing classic 80’s doo-wop before each act and in-between scenes. They move furniture around David Zinn’s sterile living room set, harmonizing as they prepare the next scene. It adds absolutely nothing to the show, unless you count the collective “Huh?” and hesitant clapping from the audience.

Sam Gold is a smart director, known for taking risks. And we the audience are almost the better for it. Alas, what he threw against the wall this time simply hasn’t stuck. Despite two compelling leads, The Real Thing surrenders too much of its run time to artificiality.

The Real Thing

American Airlines Theatre
Roundabout Theatre Company
227 West 42^nd Street, Manhattan
Written by: Tom Stoppard
Directed by: Sam Gold
Starring: Ewan McGregor, Maggie Gyllenhaal, with Cynthia Nixon, Josh Hamilton, and Madeline Weinstein
Run Time: 2 hours and 15 minutes, with one intermission