Three sisters, one the head of a bank, another a bohemian journalist and the last a self-made radio host known as "Dr. Gorgeous," meet in London to celebrate a birthday. No, this is not the set-up for punch line. On second thought, maybe it is.
Wendy Wasserstein's play "The Sisters Rosensweig" explores these three sisters' search for identity through a complex maze of nationalities and religion - pretty complex for a play that takes place entirely in one sister's living room.
Expatriate Sara Goode (Maureen Anderman), the banker, is emotionally closed-off after dealing with two failed marriages, a demanding career and disillusionment with her Jewish-American roots. To further complicate matters, her daughter Tess (Amelia Alvarez) has her heart set on flying to Lithuania to be a part of the resistance during the collapse of the Soviet Union.
When Sara's sisters arrive to help celebrate her 54th birthday, they bring problems of their own. Pfeni Rosensweig (Mimi Lieber), the journalist, is a hemp-toting, doesn't-shave-her-armpits hippie who brings her bisexual boyfriend (T. Scott Cunningham) to dinner. Their relationship seems a picture of idyllic, if absurd, happiness until he mentions that he misses men. Meanwhile, Gorgeous Teitelbaum (Deborah Offner) arrives with a legion of women from her Newton synagogue and advice on everything from religious observance to accessorizing.
The Tony and Pulitzer-winning Wasserstein is known for both her cultural insight and wisecracking hilarity. Unfortunately for her, the Huntington Theatre Company's production of "The Sisters Rosensweig" elicits both intentional and unintended laughter.
Part of the reason is that the show often seems to bite off more than it can chew. At one point Tess asks: "If I've never really been Jewish, and I'm not actually American anymore, and I'm not English, or European, then who am I?" Although supposedly answered through the comedic escapades of love, sisterhood and polite society, the moments of sentimentality seem absurdly out of place amid the comedy.
It's unclear whether the script or the actors are at fault. Anderman's hysterical collapse in front of New York furrier Mervyn Kant (Jeremiah Kissel) is too sudden and entirely without preamble. Kissel, on the other hand, perfectly suits his part, setting both the audience and his fellow actors at ease.
Offner's Teitelbaum is hilarious, but her part is less emotionally demanding than the others. Likewise, Lieber is well-suited to the part of Pfeni, but the chemistry just never seems to click between herself and Cunningham.
The questions raised during the show are valid. What level of observance is appropriate for each individual? If one moves somewhere new, which area does she identify with? How can members of a single family possibly be so different? It is unfortunate that the script wasn't better suited to answer these questions in more depth.
Accolades go to David Korins for his magnificent scenery, to Robert Morgan for the exquisite and entirely believable costume design, and to Rui Rita for her subtle and appropriate lighting. Although we never leave the living room, the set is so multidimensional that it never wears thin. The light shining through the windows of the living room smartly reflects the changing weather and time of day.
The costuming supplements occasionally make up for character development. Anderman's evening gown is luxurious but tasteful, and highlights her role as wealthy businesswoman. Offner sashays across stage in a variety of suits that are faux haute, yet aren't over the top. Her wardrobe is an integral part of her personality and Morgan understands this well.
Wasserstein is a comedic master, and she knows her material well. "The Sisters Rosensweig" makes for an uproarious evening, but the moments of introspection and self-discovery are unnecessary and weigh the show down. Sometimes it's okay for a comedy to simply be a comedy, and nothing more.
