Theater review
OH, MARY!
80 minutes, with no intermission. At the Lyceum Theatre, 149 W 45th Street.
How on earth, amid the political implosion in Washington D.C., is the most heavenly escape on Broadway a non-musical play about the White House?
The preposterously enjoyable “Oh, Mary!,” which opened Thursday night at the Lyceum Theatre, does the impossible — thanks to the irrepressible comic genius of playwright and actor Cole Escola.
The situation gets even stranger. The Mary of the exuberant (or, perhaps, exasperated) title is first lady Mary Todd Lincoln, the wife of our 16th president Abraham Lincoln.
On its face, the tumult of the Civil War and a traumatizing assassination do not a recipe for laughter make. And yet the Great White Way has not witnessed a comedy this funny, or a comedic star turn this dazzling, in at least a decade.
I recommend wearing a loose-fitting shirt, should your howls pop a button.
Escola, in grandiose Wednesday Addams drag (the costumes by Holly Pierson are a character, themselves), brilliantly plays Mary as a raging alcoholic and bored, acid-tongued housewife whose dreams of becoming a cabaret star and performing her “madcap medlies” are thwarted by her absentee husband, Abe (Conrad Ricamora).
Should you now wander over to Wikipedia, know that next to nothing about this show is rooted in historical fact. There are just three pillars of truth: Mary was married to Abe, the Union won the Civil War and the president was killed by John Wilkes Booth.
The rest of “Oh, Mary!” is Escola’s outrageous fantasy, a cracking combination of sharp wit and dunce-cap idiocy that’s laser-focused on entertaining us, and all the better for it.
For instance, I’m pretty sure that Mary Todd Lincoln never drank a bucket of paint thinner as a cocktail. But this one does — with gusto!
Every single one of Escola’s glugs, put-downs, punchlines, glares and loony line deliveries is a scream.
Mary’s only friend is a social climbing gossip named Louise (a wacky Bianca Leigh), who is flabbergasted by the depressed first lady’s blasé nonchalance over her extraordinary circumstances.
Louise barks, “Nothing ever happens? Our country is at war! Thousands are being ravaged by typhoid. Your own son perished just last year.”
Shoots back Mary: “It’s no use trying to make me laugh, Louise.”
Meanwhile, not-so-honest Abe is having a sleazy dalliance with a naive soldier named Simon (Tony Macht). So, to distract the wife he so loathes, the prez hires an acting teacher (James Scully) to give her lessons so she can forge a path in the legitimate theater.
Mary and her dashing instructor, outfitted like a Gaston in training, start to flirt, and suddenly the play turns into a sex farce, with slamming doors and sneaky pairs getting caught in the act. Be warned that the play is, at times, quite filthy.
What elevates “Oh, Mary!” from a hilarious and raunchy skit to an unexpectedly juicy yarn, though, is Escola’s oddly suspenseful plot. Multiple revelations get shocked gasps in this laugh-riot about that ol’ boozehound Mary Todd Lincoln.
Adding to our satisfaction is that the tremendous cast never winks or acknowledges the ridiculousness of what’s in front of us. They treat their characters with the utmost seriousness.
Director Sam Pinkleton, known mostly as a choreographer, nails the physical comedy as you’d expect a dancer would. But, more importantly, he keeps his actors steadfastly committed and the stakes stratospheric.
A tense confrontation in a saloon between Abe and her teacher late in the show is as riveting as any climactic moment in a meaty drama.
Commanding Ricamora and sweet Scully are fired up and full of passion, and both performers are better than they were off-Broadway at the Lucille Lortel Theater.
Actually, any fears that “Oh, Mary!” would lose its way in the big uptown move are dispelled within seconds. Escola’s Mary is so enormous — practically planetary — that even a 922-seat can’t contain her galvanic energy.
Escola, who New Yorkers will know from Joe’s Pub gigs and TV viewers might recognize from “Search Party,” is conjuring theatrical magic at the Lyceum that must be seen to be believed. And, as the show is so bizarre as to defy description, to be fully grasped.
“Oh, Mary!” might not be another theatrical history lesson Broadway is used to, but I reckon it’s a show for the history books.