
Frank Langella, a financier on the run, seeks support from estranged son Adam Driver in “Man and Boy.”
A Roundabout Theater Company presentation of a play in two acts by Terence Rattigan. Directed by Maria Aitken.
Carol Penn - Virginia Kull
Basil Anthony - Adam Driver
Sven Johnson - Michael Siberry
Gregor Antonescu - Frank Langella
Mark Herries - Zach Grenier
David Beeston - Brian Hutchison
Countess Antonescu - Francesca Faridany
Frank Langella was born to play fabulous monsters like Richard Nixon, Count Dracula, and now, Gregor Antonescu, the international financier beset by ruinous scandal in Terence Rattigan's 1963 drama, "Man and Boy." Play is set during the Great Depression, but feels eerily contemporary in its cynical portrayal of industry barons who think nothing of robbing the innocent and endangering the economy with their reckless power games. Secondary roles are exceptionally well cast in Maria Aitken's well-oiled production, providing solid support for Langella's suave and superbly nuanced perf of a towering figure teetering on the edge of a moral precipice.
Where would a respected public figure like Gregor Antonescu (Langella) run for cover when his criminal shenanigans are exposed and his financial empire seems on the verge of collapse? Why, to the Greenwich Village apartment of his estranged son, of course.
As the world reels from the shocking news that this Romanian-born titan of industry ("the one who rescued Europe after the war") has been caught out in a business scandal that could spell ruin, Gregor shows up at the basement apartment (a bit too squalid, in Derek McLane's grim set design) of his bo-ho son. This disaffected youth, who calls himself "Basil Anthony" (Adam Driver), is high-strung to begin with. But Driver's artful perf deftly pushes him to the limits of his sanity and pretty much dares him to step off that cliff.
Rattigan works the father-son dynamic with subtle skill, using the contradictions of their strained relationship to keep the outcome of their awkward reunion in a state of unresolved tension. Driver makes the most of Basil's conflicted love-hate feelings for his coolly distant father. Typically inconsistent, he expresses contempt for Gregor as a capitalist criminal, and then shows touching concern for him in his present exhausted state.
Langella is almost wicked in the way that he allows Gregor to toy with his son's affections, professing paternal love even as he prepares to use him as a pawn. And when a genuine feeling stirs in his own breast, he slaps it away by declaring that, "love is a commodity I can't afford."
Although the core of the play lies in the fraught relationship between father and son, the dramatic thrills come from Gregor's devilishly clever schemes to save his sinking fortune and avoid criminal prosecution.
Drawing himself up to his full height (and striking a fine figure in the elegant suit designed by Martin Pakledinaz), Langella slips into the role of this master manipulator with the serpentine grace that defines his performance style. The eyebrow elevates, the lips twist into a sneer, and the silken voice becomes a noose from which there is no escape.
In one dazzling scene, Gregor goes to work on the industry mogul (played with foxy intelligence by Zach Grenier) who blew the whistle on a crooked business deal and the alert accountant (innocence under fire in Brian Hutchison's forthright perf) who uncovered the fraud. Through the application of guile, charm, deceit, intimidation, and blackmail, Gregor and his loyal assistant (the excellent Michael Siberry, in menacing mode) destroy the accountant and thoroughly bamboozle the businessman.
That's the showiest trick that Gregor pulls off, but it's not the only one he's got up his sleeve. There are still shady business accounts to settle, and the Countess Antonescu (Francesca Faridany, stepping out with confidence in a gorgeous travel costume) to con out of some quick cash. Even at the hour of reckoning, when Gregor finally speaks the truth, his victims would rather have more of his fantastic lies.
Set, Derek McLane; costumes, Martin Pakledinaz; lighting, Kevin Adams; original music & sound, John Gromada; hair & wigs, Paul Huntley; dialect coach, Stephen Gabis; production stage manager, Nevin Hedley. Opened Oct. 9, 2011. Reviewed Oct. 6. Running time: 2 HOURS, 15 MINS.
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