Mix one half Charles Ludlam, one half Charles Busch, and one third Carol Burnett; stir gently; then churn it all through a frappuccino machine. That’s what we get, approximately, from Cole Escola in Oh, Mary! Good old Honest Abe and his troubled missus have the Lincoln logs knocked out from under them, and one suspects that laughter can be heard from Christopher Street all the way over to Hoboken.
Playwright/star Escola’s conceit is that the marriage between Lincoln and Mary Todd was somewhat dysfunctional, with a capital diss. Not a new revelation, certainly; Escola’s aspersions toward the legendary Republican standard bearer are outrageous, sure, but nothing that hasn’t been suggested before. That said, Mary’s husband (as he is referred to in the program) does go several leaps beyond what an imaginatively fertile dramatist might have previously imagined.
Mary Todd Lincoln is the main character in Oh, Mary!; wise is the actor/author who writes the juiciest role for themself. Mary spends her time, mostly, searching for whiskey; paint thinner will do, and in fact does do. Although she admits to other inappropriate behavior. “Why would I throw an entire woman down the stairs?” she asks Abe indignantly but unconvincingly. “Because it’s hilarious?”
[Read David Finkle’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
Lines like this might not come across on paper, but the effect is indeed hilarious when Escola spits them from Mary’s puckered mouth. Lincoln (Conrad Ricamora), meanwhile, spends his time searching for the opportunity—as he explains to his compliant orderly—to “let off some steam.” His hands are also full, of course, with that war with the South.
“The south of what?,” Mary repeatedly asks. And it’s funny every time.
Escola has determined that Mrs. Lincoln (1818-1882) in her spare time was a not-very-good, washed-up cabaret singer; if you’re writing that juicy role for yourself, you might as well play to your strengths and go whole hog. Lincoln determines that if his wife must perform, it should at least be on the legitimate stage; or at least, a stage as legitimate as that upon which Oh, Mary! is performed. That being the case, Abe brings in a down-on-his-luck actor friend to give Mary acting lessons. How’s that for an historical plot twist? In the end, Abe goes to the play and is shot.
Warning sign on the lobby wall: the performance will contain haze, flashing lights, and ONE SINGLE GUNSHOT!
“The war is over!” Mary says. “Now I can do cabaret!” So much for logic.
The cabaret act finale, mind you, is howlingly funny; an exquisite mix of luscious (or, rather, lush-ious) piano bar divas, all on off-nights. Did Joan Crawford ever hit the cabaret skids? If anyone gives out awards for dementedly out-of-kilter cabaret montages, arranger David Dabbon and onstage pianist Tony Macht should share the prize with Escola. If they can grasp said award out of Escola’s clutched mitts, that is.
In any case, it all adds up to a briskly uproarious 80 minutes. Abetting Escola every step of the way—although always a safe couple of steps behind the star—is Ricamora, who was last seen playing a different politico, Ninoy Aquino, in Here Lies Love. Wearing those trademarked whiskers and eventually slipping into the familiar stove-pipe hat, Ricamora keenly fuels the comedy while stepping aside (wisely) to let Escola shine. Also going through supportive paces and successfully managing to keep a straight face most of the time are Bianca Leigh as Mary’s minder; James Scully as the Shakespearean acting teacher; and Macht, prior to the cabaret section, as Abe’s orderly.
The hilarity is well-modulated by director Sam Pinkleton, who is better known thus far as a choreographer (with Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 and Here We Are among his credits). The design collective known as “dots” has provided the perfectly tacky scenery, featuring a presidential-looking desk and a replica of the Gilbert Stuart portrait of George Washington. Mary, as she passes by, continually refers to Washington under her breath as “mother.” And doesn’t that get a laugh. Costumes are by Holly Pierson, with “gowns for Cole Escola” by Astor Yang. Mary’s black taffeta is so crisp you can almost feel it crinkle. Lights (Cha See), sound (Daniel Kluger and Drew Levy), and wigs (Leah J. Loukas) are just right, as is the original music by Kluger.
Playgoers might be advised, incidentally, to get to the theater early enough to peruse the mock publicity photos of Escola in famous roles (Cassie in A Chorus Line, Sister Aloysius in Doubt) which adorn the walls. Let us also mention, in passing, that the Lortel—formerly off-Broadway’s prime showcase, long turned shabby—has at some recent point undergone a handsome renovation.
All of which is beside the point. Oh, Mary! is Mary’s show, and Cole Escola is Mary. The playwright already has a following from writing, television, and cabaret appearances. Oh, Mary! though, is likely to springboard Escola to new and deserved prominence.
To put it succinctly: Just try to stop laughing.
Oh, Mary! opened February 8, 2024 at the Lucille Lortel Theatre and runs through May 12. Tickets and information: ohmaryplay.com
