The summer of 2025 in New York theater will probably be best remembered for its many plays with major Hollywood actors featured in solo (or nearly solo) off Broadway performances, from Hugh Jackman to John Krasinski to Liev Schreiber, as well as a couple reviewed here. While these shows attracted large audiences due to their star power, critical reception was ambivalent . . . at the very best. Here’s a look at two of those plays that are still running, as well as a misguided new musical about the Vietnam War.
Ava: The Secret Conversations. Through September 14 at New York City Center (131 West 55th Street, between Sixth and Seventh Avenues).
***/***** (Three stars out of five)
The lives of Hollywood starlets from the Golden Age of Cinema are usually compelling and full of intrigue — seemingly the perfect subject matter for a play or movie. Sadly, Ava: The Secret Conversations, which delves into legendary actress Ava Gardner (The Killers, Night of the Iguana) — based on her never-published interviews with would-be biographer Peter Evans — falls completely flat. It’s not that her life (featuring marriages to Mickey Rooney, Artie Shaw, and Frank Sinatra, not to mention a decades long-affair with Howard Hughes) wasn’t fascinating. Rather, this narrative, written by the usually terrific Elizabeth McGovern (“Downton Abbey”), who also stars as Gardner, is scattered, and the story never knows what it wants to be. Gardner and Evans (Aaron Costa Ganis, who never feels right for the part, despite an acceptable performance) spend much of the beginning of the play arguing about how Gardner’s proposed autobiography will be structured. It’s information the audience doesn’t, and shouldn’t, care about. What’s more, Evans spends several scenes arguing with his agent, an irrelevant disembodied voice (Chris Thorn) who doesn’t seem to understand much about the responsibilities of literary agents or ghost writers. These scenes are purely expository and unnecessary.
It’s unfortunate, really, because we do learn about Gardner’s surprisingly modern (for the era) sexual agency and her independent, feminist spirit, despite her being connected to some of the most controlling and powerful men in Hollywood. Had the play expanded on these themes it would have been far more captivating. And despite her command of the stage, McGovern doesn’t convey the seductive allure (particularly in some very flirtatious moments with Evans) that Gardner is reputed to have had. She’s simply not a convincing Gardner. Director Moritz Von Stuelpnagel was at a disadvantage from the start, with McGovern’s weak script, and it’s doubtful there’s anything he could have done to make the play more palatable.
Rolling Thunder: A Rock Journey. Through September 7 at New World Stages (340 West 50th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues).
**/***** (two stars out of five)
In one of the strangest musicals to come along in some time, Rolling Thunder, a jukebox musical featuring songs from the 1960s with a storyline (book by Bryce Hallett) centered around young men going off to fight in the Vietnam War somehow fails to capture the mood of this chaotic and traumatic period of American history. The musicals concept is valid and has great potential, but in this instance it goes wildly off the rails. One doesn’t get the impression that the six young singers/performers have any real understanding of the era nor the power the music had over American youth. Their well-sung performances (backed by an excellent five piece rock band led by keyboardist Sonny Paladino) were light and airy, lacking any of the music’s complex emotions. For example, the Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter,” a song that literally screams, “rape, murder!” in protest of the atrocities in Vietnam, was neutered, coming off as merely tuneful. The effect was akin to Pat Boone singing Metallica. One wonders if director Kenneth Ferrone exposed the cast to films like Platoon, Apocalypse Now or Full Metal Jacket — which perfectly convey the horror and sadness of that era — prior to production. And if not, why? Furthermore, the struggles of the civil rights and free speech movements that also defined the era were all but ignored. Perhaps it’s an era that’s far too complex to be addressed by musical theater.
Call Me Izzy. Through August 24 at Studio 54 (254 West 54th Street, between Broadway and Eighth Avenue)
***½ / ***** (3.5 stars out of five)
Writer Jamie Wax could not have been more fortunate than to have the amazing Jean Smart (HBO’s “Hack’s”) star in his play, Call Me Izzy, the story of a poor, young, southern woman (based on his aunt) whose writing talents are forcibly stifled by her abusive husband. We meet Izzy (Smart) in her hideout, the cramped bathroom in her mobile home, as she scribbles her thoughts on a scroll of toilet paper, which she hides in her tampon box because she knows her husband will never see it there. Though Wax’s story (the likes of which we’ve seen many times over) meanders a bit too much, Smart captivates the audience with her heart-rending monologues. Though her circumstances are dire, and despite our knowing that the odds are stacked against her, we root for her to get away, to be able to pursue her love of writing and literature. Mikiko Suzuki MacAdams’ dynamic set, and Sarna Lapine’s able direction set the play on the right track, keeping us engaged even when the writing stumbles.
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