In 1975, screenwriter Frank Pierson masterfully adapted a true story about a pair of inept robbers who held the employees of a Brooklyn bank hostage in a 14-hour standoff with the NYPD and FBI as thousands of onlookers crowded the streets to watch the drama unfold. His screenplay for Dog Day Afternoon won the Oscar the following year. 50 years later, the story is once again adapted, this time as a Broadway play and I don’t expect many writing awards will be handed out for this stage version by Stephen Adly Guirgis. As a longtime fan of the Pulitzer Prize winning playwright, it is disappointing to write this, especially since his particular gifts – capturing the fringe elements of New York’s urban underbelly – seemed so perfectly suited to the material. There is still much to applaud in the production, first and foremost the performances of its two lead actors – Jon Bernthal and Ebon Moss-Bachrach, both making their Broadway debuts.
The actual robbery which took place in 1972 was, in essence, symbolic of New York City’s chronic decay. Crime rates were high; neighborhoods were slipping into poverty and chaos made the city seem ungovernable. The incident took place on a sweltering Tuesday in August as the bank was closing for the day. Sal (Moss-Bachrach) arrives first, and a few minutes later, after the security guard locks the doors, Sonny (Bernthal) shows up. He displays an empathetic nature that persuades the guard to let him in. That empathy is key to the character along with his impulsiveness and criminal ineptitude. As the robbery gets underway, even the tellers and bank manager recognize the pervasive incompetence; and while the robbers talk threateningly, it becomes ever more clear that they’re not born killers. Before long, the hostages’ initial fear turns to cautious amusement amid a media circus as police surround the bank, and the female tellers find themselves in the spotlight earning their 15 plus minutes of fame.
The absurdity of it all is somewhat comical as we observe Sonny and the bank staff warm to each other. The film portrayed the dynamic with a nuanced sensibility. Despite the friendlier tone, there was always an understanding that things could turn violent, and it created an air of suspense that heightened the drama. The play, conversely, lacks any real suspense, choosing a more comedic approach with forced humor. When the head teller is finally allowed to use the restroom, her peeing behind a closed door is amped up so that everyone hears it for a cheap laugh. The hostages all have superficial backstories that are inconsequential for the most part. And for whatever reason, when Sonny demands that the cops bring them something to eat, instead of pizza which was the food of choice in real life and in the film, the stage characters end up with donuts after a silly back and forth with the police deciding where to buy them.
[Read Frank Scheck’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
The film had the added dimension of Sonny’s social consciousness. Remember Al Pacino’s repeated chants of “Attica” to the cheering crowds outside the bank? In the play, Bernthal’s Sonny is egged on to invoke “Attica” by the head teller Colleen (Jessica Hecht) giving her a more prominent role in this version. Hecht is a terrific actor and there are no qualms with her performance but her character is forced to undergo a complete about-face after being introduced as a no-nonsense straight arrow.
Bernthal tackles the role with gusto. His shouting and bluster are covers for a guy with a good heart. At one point he says “Admittedly we’re off to a rough start…this is my first robbery.” And it’s fun to watch him relish his newfound platform as a folk hero who sees himself as a defender of the city’s disenfranchised. Sonny’s ultimate motive involves a gay component which, in 1975, must have been rather shocking. Even today, it elicited some startled gasps from the audience. The introduction of Sonny’s “wife”, Leon (Esteban Andres Cruz), allows Bernthal to display a tender side. And the brutal honesty in their scene together is touchingly poignant.
Quite opposite Sonny is Moss-Bachrach’s hardened Sal in the role played by John Cazale on screen. He is clearly a disturbed individual with a fatalistic streak, Moss-Bachrach’s restrained performance is a big plus in the show as his menacing presence poses the only real danger for the hostages. When he impatiently demands more action from Sonny, repeatedly saying “Words, words words” you sense he’s going to blow. It’s an underwritten part that I wish could have been beefed up because he is just that good.
The NYPD detective Fucco in charge of the negotiations makes a game effort to negotiate with Sonny. John Ortiz does solid work as the well-intentioned cop who matches Sonny’s incompetence. The character’s name gets a cheap laugh as the condescending FBI agent who shows up, repeatedly mispronounces Fucco to sound like a profanity.
Director Rupert Goold gets a huge assist in this production from scenic designer David Korins’ revolving bank setting. It allows for the action to take place inside and outside the bank walls; and as the set slides further downstage it amplifies the characters’ claustrophobic desperation amid the prolonged standoff.
At two hours fifteen minutes including the intermission, the production feels overlong, though I bet audiences unfamiliar with the movie might appreciate the play all the more. And while it may be unfair to compare them, those of us who know the film well are likely to feel the play falls short of expectations. Then again how do you compete with a cult classic?
Dog Day Afternoon opened March 30, 2026, at the August Wilson Theatre and runs through July 12. Tickets and information: dogdayafternoon.com
