By Bart Greenberg***One of the most difficult genres of theater to execute well are those concerning famous actors. And Orson’s Shadow by Austin Pendleton, who also co-directed with David Schweizer, currently revived at Theater for the New City, features four of the most famous of the 20th Century, along with one highly influential critic. 
There’s also a personal assistant/stage manager whom no one pays much attention to. All of these iconic performers are vividly brought to life here via fine acting and witty dialogue; yet the play lacks a driving story to keep the audience’s attention for its long two hours (including a ten minute intermission).
Orson Welles (Brad Fryman) is in Dublin at the Gaiety Theatre starring in his pet project, Chimes at Midnight, in which he plays Falstaff. But the production is failing to draw an audience. To boot, his most recent film has been again taken away from him, his latest marriage is falling apart and he’s desperately trying to find any way he can to finance his future projects. His good friend, the critic Kenneth Tynan (Patrick K. Hamilton) arrives with the suggestion that he direct a play in London to reestablish himself—and not just any play, but the first English-language production of Eugene Ianesco’s absurdist Rhinoceros, to star the greatest actor in the world, Laurence Olivier (Ryan Tramont). Yet this star has his own issues to deal with, trapped between his manic-depressive wife, Vivien Leigh (Natalie Menna), and his much younger mistress, the actress Joan Plowright (Cady 
McClain). He’s also struggling to play a contemporary common man (in John Osborn’s The Entertainer) rather than the historical heroes his talent and personality more suits him for. And everyone but Plowright hates the play. Stage manager/man Friday/mother hen, Sean (Luke Hofmaier) oversees all of this with a mix of boredom and bemusement.
So, we have interesting characters and situations, and conflict, but no dramatic arc to drive the show, despite outstanding performance. Hamilton’s fine interpretation of Tynan captures his adoration of both Olivier (who he doesn’t know) and Welles (who is a close friend); highlights his addiction to cigarettes (he would die of emphysema 10 years later,); and his passion for the theater. Without a frame of reference for Tynan, other than his written work, Hamilton had more freedom in creating a complete character.
Cady Mclain as the young Plowright simply glowed as the sanest and most grown up character in the ensemble. She navigated the tricky role of conveying her love for Olivier without a specific romantic scene, while conveying a great deal of concern towards her lover’s unraveling wife. That spouse, of course, was the biggest star of them all, Viven Leigh. Natalie Menna takes on the daunting task of recreating the Hollywood icon, and 
while not offering a strict imitation, does capture her essence, especially in a second act scene where her manic depression takes her to very dark places.
Ryan Tramont had the unenviable job of capturing “the greatest actor in the theater,” especially since he is portrayed as a pompous egotist and somewhat silly man who spends far too much time fussing over a single line in Rhinoceros—a bit that quickly becomes boring and stalls movement in the second act. If Tramont doesn’t really have the enthralling on stage charisma that the real Lord Olivier did, he definitely focused well on theatrical ambitions and romantic frustrations in dealing with a complicated wife he still loves but can no longer live with.
Likewise, Brad Fryman had the difficult task of impersonating the galvanic Welles, a man who was as famous for his personality as for his one completed work of art, Citizen Kane. Haunted by this early success he’s never been able to live up to, he is a mass of contradictions. If Fryman couldn’t quite keep up to the sum total of the man, he did capture both his warmth and his anger. There is one moment of meta theater where Welles, while directing the play within the play, 
flings himself into a chair in the front row amid the audience, sitting next to Pendleton, the other director. Their shared heads of white hair picked up by the lighting, effectively bound several levels of reality together. One expected to hear the playwright chime in on giving notes to the on stage actors.
Pendleton and co-director Schwizer do well in filling the large deep playing area, often effectively marking separate locations at the same time, such as when Olivier places a phone call to his wife residing at their country house while he is in the theater. The effective lighting design of Alexander Bartenieff also aids in delineating space, while the smart costume designs of Billy Little help to define the characters and their era.
The production ultimately offers intelligent acting, smart staging and fine design. There are some highly emotional and touching scenes, especially those involving Leigh, and intriguing glimpses into how early fame can effect artistic geniuses haunted by their own shadows. If only a more compelling story could have been devised, it would have been so much better.
Orson’s Shadow plays at Theater for the New City, 155 First Avenue, NYC through December 1, 2024. Tickets may be purchased at ci.ovationtix.com or at the box office.
Photos by Russ Rowland
