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BIRTHDAY CANDLES
by Noah Haidle
Directed by Vivienne Benesch
Starring Debra Messing
A Production of the Roundabout Theatre Company
American Airlines Theatre

Reviewed by David Spencer

In Birthday Candles, playwright Noah Haidle gives us a life that progresses in birthdays. The setting is a kitchen in a very nice house, which could be anywhere (literally; in another language, even nationality could be up for grabs), and our female lead, Ernestine, goes from very young child to very old woman before our eyes. Every time we hear a particular tone (shades of David Ives), we move forward. The number of years we move forward isn’t set; what marks the jump is a development in Ernestine’s life. As you might imagine, her trajectory takes us through dating, marriage, children, marital strife and various other such that I won’t list here lest they be spoilers. It’s a dramatic structure that can, and does, provide a modest showcase for its lead actress (in this case, Debra Messing), who plays Ernestine at all ages; as well as a most of the others (John Earl Jelks, Suzanna Flood, Christopher Livingston [his very capable standby Brandon J. Pierce the night I attended] and Crystal Finn) who, in the tradition of family timelines dramatized onstage, play several generational roles. One actor stays with the same role throughout (Enrico Colantoni), his constancy eventually becoming the point. And there are a few surprises. A few

But even so, the strength of the device is also its weakness. There’s an anecdote that may be apocryphal—though I hope it isn’t—about Stephen Sondheim attending a performance of Lerner and Loewe’s Camelot. Robert Goulet began the opening lyric of Lancelot’s big ballad: “If ever I would leave you,/It wouldn’t be in summer…” Whereupon Sondheim turned to his companion and whispered, “Oh, shoot, now we have to sit through fall, winter and spring.” Similarly, once you understand the gimmick of Birthday Candles you also accept, with a sense of resignation, the inevitability of being stuck with it.

And I’m not sure it can be conquered. Mr. Haidle provides a decent amount of particularization for his supporting characters, in the sense that they have their key phrases, and idiosyncrasies. But because they can only truly exist as passing essences, these signatures aren’t given the opportunity to enhance and advance character, but rather land as place-markers that keep us from getting succeeding generations confused with past ones.

Mr. Haidle also quite deliberately avoids any reference to world events or  technology that would firmly anchor the play in a historical context: Ernestine’s centennial life can begin at almost any point in the 20th century between, say, 1920 and 1980—probably in any country with a culture of suburban community—and even tacitly extend into the future. Not that he’s obligated to so anchor it; he’s into universal verities of life-cycle progression. If the play’s timeline “floats,” a production concept can give it the specificity appropriate to the audience and their own times.

And fair enough.

But then you have to cope with the paradox of specific lives led in general terms. And that’s key to the diminishing returns.

With its decent-enough cast and craft-solid direction by Vivienne Benesch, Birthday Candles is not such a push-through that it’s dull, but it’s also not effervescent enough to be stimulating. But it may merit a Lancelot citation for heroic persistence.

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