Art, as well as life, can be messy. And no more so than Lorraine Hansberry’s The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window, from its production history to the play itself. Regarding the former, this follow-up from the heralded playwright of A Raisin in the Sun received mixed to negative notices upon its 1964 Broadway premiere starring Rita Moreno and former “Dead End Kid” Gabriel Dell shortly before Hansberry’s untimely death from cancer at age 34. It lasted a mere 101 performances despite the impassioned support of notable figures ranging from James Baldwin to Mel Brooks and Anne Bancroft. The work has largely been neglected since then, not achieving broader prominence until an acclaimed 2016 revival at Chicago’s Goodman Theater directed by Anne Kauffman.
And it’s easy to see why, as this play revolving around white bohemian characters in Greenwich Village feels overstuffed and overwritten with its dense profusion of subplots and themes. Its messy unwieldiness may well be the result of Hansberry’s illness which prevented her from doing the rewriting that might have brought it into sharper focus.
And yet, it still bursts with vivid theatrical life and provocative ideas which are as well realized as they probably could ever be in the current revival at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, also directed by Kauffman. Featuring a stellar cast led by marquee names Oscar Isaac and Rachel Brosnahan, the latter fresh off her star making turn as The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, it’s a production no serious theatergoer will want to miss.
[Read Melissa Rose Bernardo’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
The work feels a bit schizophrenic, its early section resembling nothing so much as Barefoot in the Park in its comic depiction of the loving marriage between Sidney (Isaac), a disillusioned idealist whose most recent venture, a folk music nightclub called “Walden Pond,” has just failed and who is now embarking on a quixotic quest to publish a neighborhood newspaper, and Iris (Brosnahan), a struggling actress who slings hash to earn money between failed auditions.
Their large orbit includes David (Glenn Fitzgerald), a gay playwright whose ambitiously absurdist works have so far failed to find an audience; Max (Raphael Nash Thompson), a genial artist; Sidney’s friend Alton (Julian De Niro, son of Robert), a young Black activist who’s light-skinned enough to pass as white; and Wally (Andy Grotelueschen), a local politician currently running for office. There’s also Iris’ straightlaced sister Mavis (a terrific Miriam Silverman), who doesn’t understand the couple’s lifestyle, and another sister, Gloria (Gus Birney), romantically involved with Alton, who doesn’t know that she’s not a successful fashion model but rather a prostitute.
The play’s title refers to the large sign that Sidney hangs in their apartment window supporting Wally’s candidacy, which he later comes to bitterly regret after discovering that the supposed reformer is actually in cahoots with the corrupt political machine he professes to condemn.
The longer it goes on, the darker the play gets. Sidney and Iris’ marriage begins to unravel as she begins to discover herself in therapy and he becomes increasingly didactic and intolerant; Alton learns Gloria’s secret and immediately dumps her, resulting in tragic consequences; Mavis reveals that her supposedly happy marriage is basically a sham, and so on. All of the characters are struggling for meaning and self-definition in a world in which artistic, political and social mores are tectonically shifting at a dizzying rate.
The text for this production has apparently been augmented with sections from various drafts of the play, which may not have done it any favors. Running over three hours, the evening often feels draggy and repetitive; some judicious cutting, rather than throwing in as much as possible, might have made it a more rewarding experience.
Still, it’s a pleasure to encounter Hansberry’s insightful wrestling with so many provocative ideas, marvelously realized by Kauffman’s vibrant staging. (The sole misstep takes place in the second act, when for one scene she has several of the performers drag out folding chairs and sit in front of the audience, watching the action onstage as if they were curious theatergoers. It’s the sort of directorial conceit that serves mainly to call attention to itself without adding meaningful context.) The authentic feeling, lived-in set created by the design collective known as “dots” is another outstanding element, especially since it’s raised high enough that we actually have good views of it. (Memo to BAM: please remember this for future shows.)
The performances by the supporting cast are uneven, with Silverman and Fitzgerald coming off best and Birney nearly vocally unintelligible in her overly frantic turn as the ill-fated Gloria. Broshanan is terrific, especially in the play’s first half when Iris comes across as vibrantly sexy and funny (her dancing interludes are priceless). And Isaac, who has the more prominent role, proves compelling every moment he’s onstage, confirming his status as one of the most charismatic, talented actors working today and making the play seem more cohesive than it actually is.
