Review - Knickerbocker: And None Of That Jazz

Those who miss the patter of little urbanites that made Thursday night sitcoms so popular in the 1990s should welcome the arrival of Jonathan Marc Sherman's angsty new comedy, Knickerbocker; a play generously populated by an assortment of smart, funny and hip New Yorkers whose charm lies in their ability to over-think.

The evening's seven scenes are all two-handed affairs between 40-year-old expectant father, Jerry (Alexander Chaplin) and someone important in his life; each set in the same semi-circular booth at his favorite restaurant, downtown's famed Knickerbocker Bar and Grill. (Though, from the lack of jazz music in the background, one can surmise that Jerry never patrons the place on Friday or Saturday nights.)

Though Jerry is convinced that nobody, even people who already have children, is ever prepared to have a kid, his particular fear comes from the realization that being a father means you can never go back to being "the baby."

His best friend Melvin (Ben Shenkman) assures him that screwing up is all part of the job and that every moment of raising a kid - the bumps, the fevers, the projectile vomiting - is scary. But valuable experience is simply acquired during the first weeks when the baby does nothing but eat, poop and sleep.

His ex-girlfriend, Tara (Christina Kirk), enjoys a flirtatious dominance in their now-platonic friendship while his other best friend, stoner Chester (Zak Orth), appears to be the only person in his life who makes Jerry look like the adult in their relationship. The wonderful veteran actor Bob Dishy plays Jerry's father, who tries to calm his son's fears and discourage his getting anxious about the latest parenting books ("Forty years ago, we had Dr. Spock and a book of baby names. We heard your heartbeat once before you were born, with a stethoscope. Yet here you are, and you turned out alright.") before unintentionally antagonizing him with snippets of his sexual history.

In the first of her three scenes with Jerry, his wife Pauline (Mia Barron) certainly seems the steadier half of the pair as they consider names and address the question of circumcision. Later on we learn that she is a Certified Dream Analyst. In their final exchange the playwright suggests that Jerry's regular booth at the Knickerbocker is a sort of womb for him; a fact emphasized by having him remain seated inside for the entire play until the very end, as the couple anticipate the next day's scheduled C-Section.

With nearly every moment taking place between two seated actors, director Pippin Parker keeps Sherman's frequently clever and entertaining dialogue gliding at a clipped pace. Though Dishy takes fine advantage of his chance to explore the play's best writing, the rest of the very appealing company is limited to familiar observations and situations. The drama beneath the comedy may still be embryonic but, as a work in progress presented as part of The Public Theater's LAB series, the evening's strengths are certainly worth the bargain ticket price.

Photos by Carol Rosegg: Top: Alexander Chaplin and Mia Barron; Bottom: Alexander Chaplin and Christina Kirk.

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