Is it true love or a rewarding romp in the sack? You’ll go back and forth for two hours trying to decide in “Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune.”
What’s undisputed is the sparking chemistry and riveting banter between the diner waitress and cook on their first date. Specifically, the show, playing at the Gamm Theatre, starts mid-spicy part of the evening. If the moaning and tumbling in the pull-out bed don’t give it away, the sight of a nude Johnny and topless Frankie will.
Directed by Gamm Associate Artistic Director Rachel Walshe, the show digs deeply into the emotional baggage carried by the two flawed, yet endearing, characters and their struggle to figure out the next steps, if there are any.
Is Johnny – whose endless verbal rambles belie a deep-rooted insecurity – as needy as Frankie claims, or is he just hoping to grab something he thinks is possible and wants so badly? And, why is Frankie – who practically self-identifies as insecure herself – so resistant to Johnny’s romantic advances and talk of the future?
“There is no ‘us’!” she exclaims, calling the coupling “a crime of passion.”
The 30-year-old Terrence McNally play, which evolved into a 1991 movie starring Al Pacino and Michelle Pfeiffer, is gorgeous in its simple yet keen exploration of human bonds and the frailty of battered hearts. The audience focuses on just two characters, enhancing the emotional connection.
While the Shakespeare quoting – if not fully grasping – Johnny sees their tryst as “a chance to make everything all right again,” Frankie is unsure, perhaps because he’s somewhat manic or because past experiences warn her it’s too good to be true.
Either way, over the hours, the pair connect, argue, and physically wound each other, ending the show in a way that allows audience members to decide for themselves the characters’ ultimate fate.
For Johnny, Walshe taps familiar Gamm face Anthony Goes – whose Stanley Kowalski in the company’s version of “Streetcar Named Desire,” coupled with this performance, cement him as the go-to for rough-and-tumble guys with soft hearts. He’s tousled and tattooed, giving the character the edge needed for an ex-con, and exudes unrefined, almost untethered emotions in a way that is seemingly effortless and completely effective.
Frankie is a delightful – as in give us more, please – Liliane Klein, who tenderly crafts a middle-aged woman living behind a wall built by previous bad relationships. Her facial expressions, generally when Johnny is rambling about something inane, are priceless, and her presence solidifies the character as teetering in the familiar emotional space between standoffish and clingy.
As much as we might want theatre to be an escape from reality these days, there is something so rewarding and absolutely joyous in experiencing McNally’s realistic rawness in Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune. This production draws audiences right into the cramped New York City apartment as voyeurs of a very relatable and sweet night.
The show runs through Nov. 30 at Gamm, 1245 Jefferson Blvd., Warwick. For tickets, go to gammtheatre.org.
My wife and I, season subscribers for over 10 years, left during intermission for the first time. The characters are caricatures of people whose lives have gotten away from them. Worse, the playwright seems to think, if you’re over forty, this is your absolute last chance at love so you should settle for this terrible person you spotted across the grill at your job. It’s a strangely desperate gloss that this production never successfully addresses. Dull one-note Johnny is tedious in the extreme. He’s the epitome of the worst of male behavior—he talks over Frankie, he invades her privacy, he pressures her, and he believes that he knows what serves her best (hint: it’s him). And in all this we’re supposed to root for her to give in to him. Not love him. But let down her erected walls because he asked. Not even asked nicely.