"I'm not good with people," Frank Lloyd Wright explains when a surprised observer glances at his sketch pad assuming that what he'd been drawing was the pretty young lady sitting before him. Playwright Richard Nelson isn't always so heavy-handed in Frank's Home, the latest bio-drama that shows how genius and people skills rarely mix, but though there is a solid foundation of juicy conflict in Nelson's text, he hardly builds anything of note upon it. Director Robert Falls' production serves the piece well, but the only theatrical sparks, and they are quite dazzling, come from Peter Weller's dynamic portrayal of the title character and Harris Yulin's solid turn as his former mentor heading for self-destruction.
Set during the course of three days in 1923, the mid-50's Wright has found himself in the midst of a lull that might be signaling an end to his career in America, though his recent triumph, The Imperial Hotel in Tokyo, has elevated him to godlike status in Japan. He's in California now, among his adult children, for the opening of a school he's designed.
There's no subtlety in his consistent criticism of his son Lloyd (Jay Whittaker), who is trying to follow in dad's footsteps, and relations are not much better with daughter Catherine (Maggie Siff), married to the well-meaning but clueless banker Kenneth (Chris Henry Coffey). Separated from their mother, Wright is seeing the drug and alcohol addicted Miriam (Mary Beth Fisher) though he's not above making a play for the far younger schoolteacher Helen (Holley Fain). He treats his obedient assistant William (Jeremy Strong) like a servant, having him serve drinks and perform menial tasks instead of teaching him anything about architecture.
Nelson keeps reminding us that Wright has trouble seeing people on a human level. "Sometimes I think I am America," he says for the benefit of anyone in earshot. "Sullivan is Chicago," he says of Louis Sullivan (Yulin), his early influence whose work has grown outdated and, not exactly fighting his alcohol addiction, is grateful for any bits of work his former pupil can toss his way. The issue of highest concern with Wright is whether or not his Imperial Hotel has survived a major earthquake that has just hit Tokyo; not for the sake of the lives lost if it had indeed collapsed, but for the jolt it would give to his career and reputation if it had been left standing among the rubble. Unfortunately the news from overseas is presented in an awkwardly melodramatic fashion. Also awkward are the occasionally overacted emotional outbursts from Siff and Whittaker, who are very good otherwise, and the farcical manner in which Fisher plays the eccentric and paranoid Miriam as though it's a nutty supporting role in a Noel Coward comedy.
The relationship between Wright and Sullivan is by far the most interesting part of the evening, balancing mutual respect with desperation to save their respective careers. The chemistry between the two actors is just right. It's difficult to not think of Henry Higgins and Colonel Pickering during a lengthy monologue where Weller's Wright flamboyantly rhapsodizes his self-importance while Yulin's Sullivan politely sits, calmly attentive, interjecting the occasional positive thought.
A common knock on Frank Lloyd Wright is that his buildings can be visually impressive, but lacking in regard for those who inhabit them. (In one scene he scoffs at the complaint of a leaky roof.) Similarly, what Frank's Home lacks in human drama, it nearly makes up for in the flashy vehicle provided for the excellent Weller, who successfully combines the bombast of Barrymore with the grace of Astaire and the confident charm of Casanova. If you don't mind the drips, that could be enough for an entertaining evening.
Photos by Michael Brosilow: Top: Peter Weller
Center: Jay Whittaker, Harris Yulin and Peter Weller
Bottom: Chris Henry Coffey, Maggie Siff, Jay Whittaker and Peter WellerPeter WellerPeter WellerPeter Weller
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