The Broadway Theatre Review: Stereophonic
By Ross
With a door slam and an exhausted entrance, Stereophonic, the new magnificent masterpiece of a play, written most deliberately by David Adjmi (The Blind King Parts I and II), throws itself down with a vengeance, filling the space with flavors unknown, even for someone who has already witnessed the outcome before. The exacting play is exceptional; well framed and constructed both musically and with its meandering melody in the best of all possible ways. Yet, somewhere inside Adjmi’s engaging three-hour running time, a deeper level of contextual art formulation is unpacked with determination. It saunters forward, with a complicated level of physical exhaustion, angst, and inspiration, unearthing something that almost defies expectations and compartmentalization. It’s a 1970s rock saga, clearly modeled on the legendary Fleetwood Mac and their dynamic backstage friction, that leans into and plays with the problematic relationships within this unnamed band as they try to create magic behind a glass wall, while also trying to fulfill their emotional needs in the confines of the studio and real life.
“I’m reaching out….reach back!” she says, orchestrating a need for connection inside an action. It’s all emotional breakups and reconciliations, with a layer of bored and sleep-deprived banter; circling around a broken coffee machine and the annoying reverberations of (not only) a pesky drum. The play is electric and conflictual, playing havoc on each and every one of these characters’ insecure hearts, while offering up no grand solutions or stereotypical final product. The detailed Stereophonic is all about the tiny scratches and the little frustrations that grow and become emotional cannonballs bent on destruction, leveled and defused out of an undercurrent of love and need for creation. It is incandescent in its artful construction, displaying and writing about a realm few of us can understand, but always dream of. It’s the agony and ecstasy that lives and plays inside the magnificent creative process of musicians, artists, singers, and writers, who hear aspects that most of us can’t understand, let alone hear or comprehend. We have been invited in; to bear witness to its creation, in all its meticulously dull and exhausting detail. Giving light to the darkness of the process, and how art can both create and destroy those involved in its coming to life.
Stereophonic, as directed solidly by Daniel Aukin (LCT’s Admissions), is relentless, casual, and wonderfully detailed, giving us the band experience of trying to organically create music, supplied by the immensely talented musician and composer, Will Butler (Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs). It all plays out over a long period of time, driving each other mad with their internal and external struggles and ego manipulations. The set, miraculously well designed by David Zinn (Broadway’s Kimberly Akimbo), with the solid amped-up help of sound designer Ryan Rumery (PH’s Placebo) and exacting lighting designer Jiyoun Chang (Broadway’s The Cottage), delivers the dichotomy of the control room in the foreground and the soundproof recording space in the back, separated by a wall of glass, where different elements unfold with deliberation. It’s a fantastic formulation, that seems to have grown stronger in the Broadway transfer, resembling and playing with the making of the classic ‘Rumours‘while also paying tribute, (I am told – this detail flew over my head), to albums by Todd Rundgren, Talking Heads, Pink Floyd, and Elton John.
The unnamed Stereophonic band before us seemingly has a hit album that is climbing the charts as they start recording, and their record label is becoming more and more generous as they become more and more famous. All the actors find their fantastic, unique space within that iconic construct, with the two couples taking center stage, along with nods to all those around them. It’s a compelling narrative, with their body language giving off the boredom and exhaustion that comes with all the late-night partying and endless recording and re-recording. It is in that body language where we find true authentic connection, dominated by an American guitarist and singer; the aggressive Peter, played exacting by Tom Pecinka (TFANA’s He Brought Her Heart Back..), with his insecure songwriting girlfriend, Diana, beautifully portrayed by Sarah Pidgeon (Hulu’s “Tiny Beautiful Things“). They act out a fascinating dynamic that is as raw and rocky as one would imagine when two artists, both with faltering egos and needs, collide. They cling to one another in desperation, while also mistreating and hurting one another endlessly. It’s electric and disturbing while being entirely believable and dynamic.
There is also, almost more fascinating, a trio of Brits, two of which are struggling to connect within their explosive marriage; namely, Holly, magnificently embodied by the truly gifted Juliana Canfield (ATC’s Sunday), who sings and plays the piano, and her husband, Reg, brilliantly portrayed by Will Brill (Off-Broadway’s Uncle Vanya), the bass player, who drinks and snorts so much that he can barely walk, at least at the beginning of this play. There is also the captivatingly complicated Simon, portrayed cleanly by Chris Stack (ATC’s Blue Ridge), who plays the drums while also trying hard to manage the mess that slowly and almost lazily unravels around him.
Staying firmly on the control side of the glass, we are also given those who live in the background; the young sound engineer Grover, meticulously unpacked by Eli Gelb (RTC’s Skintight), and his hilariously well-constructed assistant, Charlie, wonderfully played by Andrew R. Butler (Ars Nova’s Rags Parkland Sings…). Their tense drive and infatuation with the band and their creative power shine strong and true, especially in the beginning, but as the mystique of the band’s unity begins to unravel and explode into chaos and compulsion, their determined connection to the musicians shifts from worship to irritation as the weeks turn into months and years.
Drenched in authentic swagger, courtesy of the fantastic period costuming by Enver Chakartash (Broadway’s A Doll’s House), the creative energy and compounded exhaustion live brilliantly inside each performed and created song causing Stereophonic to soar, most magnetically. Even as the clock ticks onward, for them and for us, the pitfalls of collaboration and the art of creation mingle and mix like only musicians can, hurting one another while also elevating their craft to create that piece of art that makes all of us sit back in amazement. They riff and talk rough to one another, accessing imagery of the hotness of Donald Sutherland and the bonding of artists, regardless of gender, making music soar before our very eyes, thanks to the beautiful songwriting work done by Arcade Fire’s Butler. But it’s more about the mixing of the magical interpersonal dynamics that elevate this experience into something special, powerful, and utterly unique. Aggressiveness and control clash hard against love, creation, and connection, playing with loyalties and solo careers in a way that unlocks chaotic relationship complications that echo far beyond the room. Sudden fame does wonders to the energy within, and in Stereophonic, we are gifted with the fly-on-the-wall syndrome, watching magic develop out of thin air and focused minds, even when clouded by love, pain, and that big bag of white powder.