Fans of Will & Grace, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Sean Hayes is delivering a tour-de-force performance, or shall I say a “twofer-de-force“ as he dazzles us with bravura skills as both actor and classical pianist. And if you think that this play set in 1958 about Oscar Levant—a man most audiences have never heard of–is too remote to hold much interest, you would be dead wrong. Good Night, Oscar is a captivating work, as hysterically funny as it is heartbreaking.
Levant was way ahead of his time. Like Lenny Bruce who skirted the decency rules about comedy back in the day, Levant spoke his mind. And what a mind he had! Struggling with a host of mental disorders—manic depression, OCD, auditory hallucinations among so much else—he became hooked on drugs. And that landed him in mental institutions where he was subjected to electroshock therapy.
He was also something of a musical prodigy, dazzling concert goers with virtuosic skills on the piano. But it was his unvarnished way with a quip, his stinging wit and sometimes vulgar observations that put him on the talk show circuit where he routinely ran afoul of the censors.
[Read David Finkle’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
Good Night, Oscar takes place on a night when Levant is booked as a guest on The Tonight Show which was hosted back then by Jack Paar, a comedian in his own right as popular back then as Jimmy Fallon is today. Levant is late to arrive as usual but this time, his wife shows up to explain the delay. When he does finally arrive, he is a mess with his OCD coffee regimen on full display along with his bizarre superstitions. But he is funny, sometimes self-deprecatingly: “For exercise I stumble and then I fall into a coma”, and insultingly: “I knew Doris Day before she was a virgin.” But like a court jester, the humor was bitingly honest.
In the role, Hayes pulls off a most incredible transformation taking on the posture, the tics, the halting voice of a deeply troubled man who pushes the limits of likeability. Throughout, he is unapologetically irascible and difficult. And yet we are totally on his side. For that, credit must be shared by Hayes with his phenomenal performance, director Lisa Peterson, and Doug Wright who penned an outstanding play that brilliantly captures Levant, warts and all.
In 1958, when wholesomeness was the watchword on television and everyone had to avoid the third rail of politics/religion/sex, Levant routinely touched on all three. As he put it, “polite comedian” is an oxymoron, adding “People dislike me or hate me.” It was his brand, so to speak, and it cost him dearly.
The play has added resonance today, as comedians are contending with so-called “woke” culture where everything they say is scrutinized under a lens of appropriateness, and jokes must avoid causing offense.
Despite Levant’s inappropriateness, he was tolerated in large part because of his prowess at the piano. We learn that he would often conclude his talk show appearances with a musical performance which won him accolades and another guest booking. But as gifted as he was, Levant measured his talents against the genius of George Gershwin, a contemporary and friend; and the comparison always left him feeling so deeply inadequate, he stopped performing. On this one night though, after much angst, he finally agrees to perform, and what follows is a stunning revelation. Sean Hayes as Levant plays Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue with astonishing mastery. It’s a huge bonus in an already remarkable production.
The rest of the cast is quite marvelous. Emily Bergl as Oscar’s wife, June, is wonderful, revealing the restraint of a good wife in the patriarchal 50’s while tactfully maneuvering to get her way. As June lovingly spars with her husband, the chemistry between them rings true, giving the play a much needed emotional foundation.
Ben Rappaport’s Jack Paar is equally convincing. He commands the stage with the slick delivery of a late night host while allowing the better comedian to take center stage. He champions Levant as something of an idiot savant, all the while knowing the risks he poses on live TV.
Alex Wyse adds fine comic relief as the over eager production assistant Max. His celebrity worship serves as a perfect catalyst for Levant’s unhinged rants. Marchant Davis plays Alvin, Oscar’s minder from the mental hospital where he’s been furloughed for a few hours. Davis too sounds just the right notes of exasperation and admiration as Oscar pushes boundaries to the limit.
If there’s such a thing as a villain in this play, it is Bob Sarnoff, the president of NBC who continually pushed back against Levant’s unscripted appearances. For him, Levant was a time bomb just waiting to blow up the entire network with his inflammatory humor. True to form, it happened time and time again, but it was hard to argue with the entertainment value he provided. Levant’s off the wall wit gained viewers even as the advertisers threatened to (and often did) pull out. Peter Grosz makes a persuasive case as the CEO whose prime directive is maintaining profit margin.
Lisa Peterson, helmed the production beautifully with the finesse of an artist balancing the sweet spot between comedy and drama. And it all feels and looks entirely real. Kudos to costume designer Emilio Sosa for conceiving the period so accurately with the simplest of touches. And scenic designer Rachel Hauck completes the picture with an authentic rendering of a TV studio’s inner sanctum.
I couldn’t help thinking that if Oscar Levant was around today, he would be more readily accepted. But maybe not. Comedians are still finding that slaughtering sacred cows, even when targeting themselves, remains risky business.
Good Night, Oscar opened April 24, 2023, at the Belasco Theatre. Tickets and information: goodnightoscar.com
