Hang On to Your Hats! It's Zero Hour
Theater Review
by
Drew Kopf
March 7, 2010:
Zero Hour by and staring Jim Brochu Directed by Piper Laurie
First and foremost, let us make clear that Zero Hour is a play that should not be missed.
If you are a vintage theatergoer who was fortunate enough to have experienced the fabulous acting, performing and entertaining talent of the late Zero Mostel, who died on September 8, 1977, you will be amazed at how wonderfully well Jim Brochu captures Mostel-the-man in his one-man-show, “Zero Hour”, now playing at Off-Broadway's DR2 Theatre, 103 East 15 Street, New York (east of Union Square).
If you are an avid but somewhat newly minted moviegoer and TV watcher, who has seen any of Mostel’s more than twenty-five films, which includes Waiting for Godot (1961), A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1966), The Producers (1968) and Rhinoceros (1974), you will be able to say you met the man, because that is how one can feel after sitting in the theater and watching and listening to Mr. Brochu, who brings Mr. Mostel back as well as anyone could ever imagine; better really.
But, if theatergoing and watching old movies are not your thing, but some how you are getting to read this review and if you will allow yourself to be motivated enough by our words to see Zero Hour, you will be introduced, perhaps overwhelmingly, to Mostel, an artist who reached the towering heights of his profession, was enamored by millions who loved the characters he created for them to remember for the rest of their lives and who did so having lifted himself up from abject anonymity and who survived perhaps one of the worst times our country has known, where witch hunts by our “government-gone-mad” were commonplace and when the worst of peoples’ characters was allowed to flourish; the McCarthy Era; not a fun time for sure, but one from which we can and must all learn in order to prevent such terribleness from happening again.
Zero Mostel was a man of many contradictions. As art reflects life, it can be seen in A Fiddler on the Roof, the blockbuster musical hit in which Mostel created the part of Tevya the Milchika (the milkman) one of whose five daughters, the youngest, marries outside the faith, which causes him (Tevya) to disown her as his own parents (Mr. Mostel’s) disowned him for having done the very same thing. Mr. Brochu, selects this and a number of other such items from Mostel’s life to craft a dialogue to which we, the audience, is privy as we sit where the imaginary interviewer from the New York Times sits as the supposed interview for an article is taking place.
There is a great deal of material in Mr. Mostel’s life: his work, his youth, politics, the World War, which is hardly mentioned in the play, major figures of the day, each a play in and of themselves, such as FDR, Eleanor Roosevelt and who was that acting teacher who changed Mostel’s life so profoundly, he certainly deserves some kind of credit but, though described briefly, goes unnamed through out. But, where the play leaves off as written, he, Jim Brochu, takes over as actor to help fill in the blanks for us. He recreates Mostel’s trademarked expressions and mannerisms with amazing accuracy and finesse and uses them to punctuate the written words and brings them to life for us in the way of the man who is supposedly saying them.
But, “the play is the thing….” and it could use a little work, which, in our opinion, could and perhaps should come from the director’s part of the show making equation and which we also believe could shake this work out of its Off-Broadway level of appreciation into an appropriate Broadway venue. Piper Laurie, who directed Mr. Brochu may well have been up against a monumental task if Mr. Brochu’s creativity and personality is anything like that of the subject’s own personality; if so, it may well have been like trying to direct a volcano.
Indicating is, perhaps, the lowest form of acting; if it is acting at all. It’s when an actor wipes his or her brow to “indicate” that it is hot in the room instead of acting like people act when the heat is getting to them, such as moving slower or breathing heavier and deeper; sweating even, but not just wiping ones forehead as if to wink at the audience saying, “Please understand the following: ‘It’s supposed to be hot in here.” They then leave it to the audience to fill in the blanks that the actor has chosen to leave out of his effort to create a reality in which we the audience can believe. Instead and in essence they ask us, the audience, to do all the work for them. There are times when Ms. Laurie allows Mr. Brochu to take the “easy way out” by indicating rather than digging a little deeper for things to do that will work better and keep the reality Mr. Brochu works so hard to create in place.
It must be tough to maintain the high level of energy that Mr. Brochu does in Zero Hour; and mostly it works, but only mostly, not completely. This is another area that could use some smoothing out by Director Laurie; orchestrating really. When Mr. Brochu gets it, he gets it great. But, if it came from a better set up, it could be fabulous. Keeping a high level of intensity may seem like a tour de force but it more often comes across as too much and would be even more forceful were strategically placed lulls allowed to serve as launch pads for bursts of power, energy and emotion to drive home a point or a massage or to “make ‘em feel it!”.
Further, in our directorial notes, anticipation is fine for ketchup but not on the stage. The phone rings at one point and annoys Zero, but Mr. Brochu rushes it. Even when the phone is between rings, he anticipates the next ring and reacts to it before the phone rings out; as if he could not wait for the cue. Where do cues come form in a one man show? Mostly from the actor. So, is he rushing it? Any show flows from moment-to-moment and from motivation-to-motivation; self-driven. But, it is important to keep a directorial eye and the audiences’ eye on the “road”; i.e. on the “emotional trip” of the play and not allow unmotivated glitches to work their way into the fabric of the play.
Little things mean a lot. On the entire set, there is not one single piece of evidence that Zero Mostel was an accomplished artist; i.e. painter; none at all. All the canvases were turned to the walls of the set and the backs of each is painted with “swished-on” paint as if someone had been drying out their house painting brush on them. Every one. Why? It is a poor choice in a reality driven set to have fake art. The only picture we are allowed to see is a horrible mess of a thing Zero is working on at rise; something no one would want; no one. Thankfully, he turns it upstage to hide it from our view. But, as they say, if it is over the mantel piece in Act I, it ought to be used for something by the final curtain.
There must be a way of getting replicas of Mr. Mostel’s actual painted works and permission to have them included on the set. Or, why not have paintings of other artists that Mostel might have admired sprinkled around the set which might serve as inspirational pieces for him? His paintings were apparently quite important to Mostel as he says in the play itself, “My only friends are my paintings; my canvases.” We could never know it from the set of Zero Hour.
Zero Hour, opens with the strains of a clarinet playing Klezmer music, which is very appropriate both thematically and for the emotional heartstrings it plucks as it wends its way into the play and our hearts. The transitions form topic-to-topic were well done and the end of Act I worked so well, we were certain that Ms. Laurie would not disappoint at the end of the play. But things started to get out of focus when the concept or convention of having the imaginary newspaper reporter, who is established as being located in the midst of the audience, comes apart as Mr. Brochu broadens his focus away from the “reporter” and even starts to single out certain members of the audience to address. It is a small problem and can be easily fixed to keep the play from drifting off the stage as it were through what might be called conventional mismanagement.
That drift continues through to the end when one might have expected a return to the same hauntingly beautiful and mystically upbeat music at the end of the play but surprise abounds; and what we get is something with all the subtlety of a neon sign that seems to say, “Remember, you just saw a Jewish play”, not something uplifting, not motivational, no; just music filling the place on a play production check list that says, “End with Music”. Opportunity missed. The ending could be crisp instead of wishy-washy. It needs work; not much work, but something.
This music inequity is not the only musical miss hit in our opinion. Zero Mostel, if he was anything, was a music man. But, his ability as a musical performer is almost entirely ignored here and we have to ask, “Why?” Is it because Zero Hour is a play and not a musical? Perhaps. But, something could have been and needs to be done about it.
Zero Hour, is a wonderful effort that has been enjoying success with small to medium sized venues for some time. Why? What is keeping it going and, more to the point, what is holding it back? It is hanging in there because people loved Zero Mostel and don’t want him to be gone. It is playing to limited circles because there needs to be, in our estimation, a dose of electricity that will smooth out the inconsistencies, make the emotional journey more felt by the audience and not just witnessed by them as outsiders looking in.
Does Mr. Brochu capture Mostel in his play Zero Hour? Yes; much more than not. Is his performance energetic? Yes; but, it hits a height and pretty much stays there through out. It needs to be re-modulated to get the most out of his great power and delicate nuance. Should it be seen by everybody? Yes; but let’s get it sculpted for Broadway and then for film. (30)
