Review: A Few Good Men

Review of the Saturday, October 24, 2026 matinee preview performance at the Vivian Beaumont Theater in New York City. A Lincoln Center Theater production. Starring Bradley Whitford, Tom Blyth, Krysta Rodriguez, Stephanie Berry, Nick Blaemire, Michael Braugher, Christopher Gurr, Billy Eugene Jones, Collin Kelly-Sordelet, Michael Oberholtzer, Lavel Schley, Thom Sesma, Daniel Valez and John Zdrojeski. A play by Aaron Sorkin. Composer Gabriel Mann. Set design by Dane Laffery. Costume design by Alejo Vietti. Lighting design by Japhy Weideman. Sound design by Joshua D. Reid. Vocal coaching by Kate Wilson. Movement direction by Ricky Ubeda. Directed by Michael Arden. 2 hours 30 minutes, including one intermission.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Everything about the Lincoln Center production of Aaron Sorkin's play A Few Good Men is big. A massive set (on a massive stage in a massive theater) and a huge cast bring out the big themes of the work - justice, loyalty, honor. Despite reported updates made by the playwright prior to its Broadway return, the play remains largely what I remember from the original production, and of course, the iconic film. A detailed recounting of the plot is unnecessary for anyone previously familiar with the piece. Unlike a revival of say Death of a Salesman or any number of musicals, a courtroom drama doesn't really leave much wiggle room for creative big swings. Add to that the parameters of it being focused on the U.S. military, and there's even less room to maneuver. That does not mean, however, that this endeavor isn't worth a visit. To the contrary, it is as taut and provocative as ever. And that is thanks to some deft direction and smart, powerful acting.

    

The cave that is the Vivian Beaumont Theater has been, and will likely always be, a challenging space. It's a damned if you do, damned if you don't kind of thing. Either you play everything on the thrust so more of the seats are full view, but then get criticized for not making use of the whole stage, or you use the whole space and leave patrons on the extreme sides facing in and missing something on either side of the upstage space. Scenic designer Dane Laffery and lighting designer Japhy Weideman have opted for something in between. Action occurs all around the enormous set, center stage with platforms that rise and fall, far down stage with its imposing staircase that seems to end in unseen depths, and even up in the air on a platform that suggests a watchtower. The lighting effectively guides us where to focus our attention, while simultaneously creating moody shadows in the background that suggests nefarious military cover ups and backdoor dealings. Imposing warehouse style windows at the top also add some piercing beams of light on occasion as if enlightening events while watching over everything.

Director Michael Arden has used his experience in staging musicals to good effect here, with groups of Marines marching in formations, imposing in their dress uniforms (designed by Alejo Vietti), standing in silent vigil while also serving as a warning to anyone who dares violate the honor code. Save for an odd moment where he has the lone female main character give a girlish squeal of delight, the performance is admirable for its serious consistency and build up of tension. This is all the more remarkable given that the vast majority of the audience knows in advance what is going to happen. The pace of the piece, as well as the variety of staging areas, creates a theatrical feel without foresaking realism, and it is engaging throughout.

What I appreciate the most about this revival is that none of the actors here are trying to replicate very familiar film performances, instead bringing a fresh take on lines many could repeat verbatim as they watched.

Among the supporting roles, several stand out, including the platoon leader who thinks his truly wicked ways are justified by wearing his Christanity as if it were impenetrable armor, chillingly played by John Zdrojeski. His self-righteous swagger is maddening. Then there is Christopher Gurr, as the end of his career doctor who fudges reports and twists himself into knots to cover things up. Gurr's physicality is remarkable - his body language is so specific you can see him shrink as the guilt for his complicity in a young soldier's death finally wears him down. Holding court, literally, is the stern, seen-it-all, don't-mess-with-me judge played delightfully by Stephanie Berry, with the sass to pull off the few moments of comic relief and still strike fear in anyone who tries anything cute in her courtroom. Finally, there's Thom Sesma, always a reliable and chameleon-like actor, as the officer struggling with maintaining the unwritten order of things and doing what is right. Even from deep in the house, I could see his internal battles, and his part in two powerful moments are all the richer for his work here.

As the defendants in this case, two Marine grunts - one a protective, by the book soldier, the other, a somewhat dim young man who knows the rules, lives by them, and simply can not vary from them - both Lavel Schlay (the former) and Collin Kelly-Sordelet (the latter) give striking performances that make you really understand the need for black and white thinking, while lamenting that neither understands that life is really more of a grey area. The prosecutor, a bit of an arrogant guy at times, as portrayed by Micheal Oberholtzer is made all the more interesting by the actor's sly way of negotiating until he can't and immediately doing the right thing once all is revealed. This mix of extremes really keeps things interesting.

  

The four main characters of this production are all richly played - again without imitating their film counterparts - by actors who are all able to play out this chess game of sorts with a satisfying dexterity. As the charming if wary assistant to the defense team, Nick Blaemire is endearing even as he stands up to his colleagues when necessary or when he has to make sacrifices for his own young family. Krysta Rodriguez shines as the no nonsense JAG officer with something to prove. Her fiery delivery is inspiring even when it creates chaos where there wasn't any. Her physicality is equally impressive, especially when she - a rather small in stature woman - literally goes up against her male counterparts. Rodriguez walks the fine line between antagonizing and righteous with dexterity.

Bradley Whitford is saddled with the unenviable task of taking on the role made famous on film by Jack Nicholson. Fortunately, he doesn't even try an imitation, instead forging ahead with a captivating, stalking presence the reeks of narcissism and a blinding arrogance. Watching him strut around that huge stage and seeming to somehow make it not seem big enough is a true sight to behold. And watching the cracks begin to show as his lies and manipulations are revealed is incredible. But nothing he does is more riveting than watching his face as it finally dawns on him that he is done for. Truly amazing. (And yes, he does that famous line, but not like we've heard it a thousand times - and the audience gasped like it was brand new.)

Finally, in the role made most famous by Tom Cruise is another Tom, Tom Blyth, an accomplished Julliard trained British actor (here without a trace of a British accent). Making his Broadway debut, he is completely captivating as the lazy junior defense attorney assigned to the case because he is known for plea bargaining and not fighting. Everything about Blyth's star turn suggests early on that his character is out of his depth and ill-equipped. But just as he charms us with his boyish good looks (he is stunning to look at),  he turns right around and impresses us with equally effortless smarts. He makes it easy to believe that he really does know what he is doing. We trust him before his partners do, which makes their coming together all the more satisfying.

A Few Good Men may not be covering any new territory with this revival, but it remains as poignant as ever. Doing the right thing isn't glamorous and it shouldn't be. But these days, it's nice to see it play out that way.

📸: E. Madrid

Review: Our Town

Review of the Saturday, November 9, 2024 matinee performance at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre in New York City. Starring Jim Parsons, Zoey Deutch, Katie Holmes, Billy Eugene Jones, Ephraim Sykes, Richard Thomas, Michelle Wilson, Julie Halston and Donald Webber, Jr.  Written by Thornton Wilder. Scenic design by Beowulf Boritt. Costume design by Dede Ayite and Audrey Peterson. Lighting design by Allen Lee Hughes. Sound design by Justin Ellington. Direction by Kenny Leon. 1 hour, 50 minutes with no intermission.

Perhaps I went into Our Town with unrealistic expectations. The Thornton Wilder classic is one of my favorites; I've seen it several times, performed scenes from it in high school and college, and studied the text as well. Also, after his exhilarating production of Purlie Victorious, I couldn't wait to see what Kenny Leon would bring to this venerable classic. Boy, I was disappointed. For all of its "for our generation" hype, it was flat and boring. Worse yet, the cast looked as bored as I was. This revival committed what I consider the very worst of theatrical sins: it left me feeling nothing at all. Not bad enough to hate, not daring enough to be even the tiniest bit intrigued, and even the decent parts weren't worth giving much of a second thought.

First, what worked for me offers little surprise. Beowulf Boritt's set design was exactly what the play needed, no more, no less, though the Act 3 setting was nicely revealed and rendered. Similarly, Allen Lee Hughes' moody area lighting fit the nebulous nature of the work's requirements; the lanterns that hung over the stage in reaching up into the balcony were lovely, serving as guiding lights, stars, and whatever other momentary need there was. 

As far as the actors go, there were four absolute standouts: the mothers and central children of the piece. As Mrs. Gibbs, the doctor's wife and icon of housewivery, Michelle Williams brought the energy up every time she entered, and Katie Holmes does some heavy lifting with the built in mundanity of her role. Both did what I think Wilder expected by giving subtext and gravitas to their line readings. As George Gibbs, awkward teenager/mature man before his time, Ephraim Sykes also lifted the whole thing out of its self-inflicted doldrums with each speech, gesture and movement, while Zoey Deutch as Emily Webb, the confident, smart young woman and object of George's affections, burst open each scene she was in, too. And when the two of them were together, their chemistry wrapped over the audience like a warm blanket. All four actors come the closest to what I think Mr. Leon was going for - characters that are both of their time (1901) and of our time (2024). I can't even put my finger on how exactly they did that, but you could sense it nonetheless.

Considerably less effective were the costume designs of Dede Ayite. Though it is obvious (too obvious) that she was trying to convey the "then is now" directive of the production, what appeared on stage was such an inconsistent hodgepodge of styles and eras that it took you out of the scenes it was so jarring. Little House on the Prairie dresses for some, canvas bodices and short shorts/skirts for others. Some looking like they were part of a forgotten revival of The Music Man, with still others dressed for office work in the 1970s and 80s. One of the "ladies of a certain age" came to the wedding dressed like a community theater Joanne from Company. And the milkman was in what appeared to be a denim onesie and combat boots! I heard more than one patron discussing it as we were leaving, "Were the costumes confusing, or was it me?" No, ma'am, it wasn't you. 

Then there were the actors. Some were completely wasted: Jim Parsons, who I adore, it pains me to say, was not good. Sure he knew his many lines, but he played the Stage Manager as a bearded Sheldon Cooper, same gesticulating and quirky affectations and all. Richard Thomas brought nothing to his role as Mr. Webb. Not even at the funeral for his daughter did he seem even mildly upset. The usually funny and smart Julie Halston was ridiculous stereotype who seemed like she was pushing for laughs. Not that I can blame her - anything for a response. Others were shockingly amateurish. Billy Eugene Jones, as the perpetually exhausted Dr. Gibbs, gave line readings you'd expect from a high school kid reading the play aloud in English class. And if other characters on stage hadn't gossiped about it, you'd never know Donald Webber, Jr.'s Simon Stimson was the town drunk. I mean there's hiding it, and there's not playing it at all. Is it a good thing when the rest of the townspeople - representations of all types of day-to-day folks - were so nondescript as to be virtually meaningless?

I thought this might be the first show in years I've been to that didn't get a standing ovation, but of course, someone stood and slowly everyone was on their feet. The applause, however, did not match the ovation, so at least there's that. I did not stand, and the lady next to me, who had been audibly sobbing at the end, gave me some serious stink eye, as if to say, "what is wrong with you??" To each their own.

📸: D. Rader