A Delicate Balance Broadway Reviews

Albee's title applies to virtually any scenario. But Agnes and Toby are keenly concerned with the delicate balance of keeping reality -- or anything, or anyone, unpleasant -- outside their front door...Agnes is tightly wrapped, in terms of both manner and costume, which smartly underscores the sense of insularity. Close, with her aristocratic take on Agnes, comes within inches of coming off as arch. That approach doesn't hurt the character. But Close's unintentional habit of tripping over Albee's dialogue doesn't help. Lithgow, meantime, is riveting every moment he's on stage -- which is a lot -- even when Tobias is silent. As he takes the character from quiet restraint to explosive urgency, he doesn't miss a beat and never for a second loses his equilibrium. His is a delicate -- and distinctive -- balance.

In A Delicate Balance, an ominous domestic drama of 1966 now revived on Broadway, there's hardly a sentence that isn't meant to scratch or slice or slash...The director, Pam MacKinnon, who superintended the most recent and rather dazzling revival of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, works to ground these seemingly extraordinary events and to temper Albee's penchant for absurdism with a realistic emotional palette...Despite the exertions of director and cast, the play can feel long and talky and the audience was not without its snoozers. Yet nearly half a century on, it hasn't really dated. The sense of menace and threat that underlies the chat - the tenuousness of even the most settled lives - remains immediate and disturbing. Like Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (if unlike The Zoo Story), a lot threatens to happen, but not much does....

, : I will tell you now that you can't miss these performances -- including British actress Clare Higgins. Albee's play is a masterpiece and this group conveys it very well. There is some shaky direction by Pam McKinnon...Albee's play about family, friendship, love, and loss is devastating. 'Balance' maintains its own balance as a conventional drawing room comedy of manners that becomes an existential jigsaw puzzle. Close and Lithgow have an amazing rapport, as do Balaban and Higgins. Martha Plimpton gives it all heft as the voice of reason. The amazing Lindsay Duncan is there for upheaval, and for playing the accordion. I wish she did more on Broadway.

At least Glenn Close is entertaining and fun to watch in the new, blunt revival of Edward Albee's 'A Delicate Balance'...Close has this way of turning her black-button eyes into tiny holes that don't so much see out as burrow their way into her skull...Her performance is also why this 'Delicate Balance,' directed by Pam Mackinnon, is blunt and unsubtle. And turning Agnes into an uncompromising gargoyle is only part of the monochromatic scheme at work here. Not entertaining and fun are Plimpton's merely loud Julia and Duncan's monotonous Claire, a performance that exposes a serious flaw in Albee's play: Claire, besides being clairvoyant and delivering a few amusing wisecracks, serves no function in act three...Back in the 1960s, Albee was accused of turning his female characters into harridans. Mackinnon's work with these three actresses, unfortunately, makes that case...Lithgow and Balaban give some semblance of playing human beings. Lithgow's delivery of Tobias' famous cat speech is especially multi-faceted.

MacKinnon's feisty if occasionally restless revival...makes intriguing work of Albee's portrait of WASPy retired couple Agnes and Tobias (Close and Lithgow) contemplating family and friendship in the final act of their lives...The production can feel like it's oscillating speeds, but the constant is shimmering character work, and why wouldn't you expect that from such a cast of heavy-hitters? In her first leading Broadway appearance since 1994's Sunset Boulevard, Glenn Close makes a comfy return to the stage as the self-important Agnes, whose self-pity is as dramatic as her pashminas. Close exudes the kind of veteran flair and magnetism you'd presume from such a marquee name. But although this seems to be Close's marquee, it's John Lithgow who runs away with the show. As insular dilemmas pile on for the pensive, settled Tobias, Lithgow offers a tremendous master class in the art of the slow burn, cautiously placing weight on Tobias until he hits his emotional tipping point with touching resonance. B

To begin with, A Delicate Balance is a masterpiece...Albee manages to keep the sadness, the mystery, and the ruthlessness in dynamic equilibrium, tipping this way and that but never crashing...Each fury, and there are many, is perfectly faceted and then rotated to capture different angles of the light...Luckily it is piercingly clear at the center. The question of what Agnes and Tobias should do about their best friends' need for succor grows quickly horrific after its hilarious introduction. This turn is partly the result of very fine work from Bob Balaban, and especially Clare Higgins, as Harry and Edna, who keep, yes, a delicate balance between the absurdity of their blandness and the primal terror of their plight. To watch Higgins flip from pitiful tears to snappish moralizing, both of them genuine, in a few lines of dialogue is to watch real character being built in real time. If neither Martha Plimpton as Julia nor Lindsay Duncan as Claire reaches quite the same extremes of inhabitation, they are both fine in difficult roles...It's enough to be in the presence of these words again. That they indict even as they tickle makes their pleasure more satisfying.

A storm rages at the center of the Broadway revival of Edward Albee's A Delicate Balance. Though camouflaged in the elegant, comfortable mufti of the affluent upper classes, it's leveling everyone in its wake while leaving the building intact, like a neutron bomb. Its name is John Lithgow...surveying it all, tolerating it all, the affable Tobias of John Lithgow smolders, bursts into flame and slowly grows cold. It's as rich a performance as I've ever seen, the achievement of a lifetime spent commuting brilliantly between New York stages and Hollywood screens of every size...Nothing in Pam MacKinnon's finely calibrated but emotionally uneven and infrequently unnerving staging measures up to the sheer power of either Albee's dramaturgy or Lithgow's inhabitance of Tobias. There is no better interpreter of Albee today; her revival of Virginia Woolf was nothing less than a revelation, in part because its ensemble was perfectly knit. Such unity is absent here in a stellar cast that nevertheless seems mismatched.

When you put a bunch of great actors together...and get them to perform a Pulitzer-winning drama (by no less than Edward Albee), you expect fireworks. But the starry new Broadway revival of Albee's 1966 drama 'A Delicate Balance' is surprisingly flat and likely to disappoint both those unfamiliar with the three-act play, as well as those who still remember its much acclaimed revival from two decades ago with Elaine Stritch and Rosemary Harris...Despite the witty lines and a handful of exciting moments, the production is a three-hour, very static bore. Pam MacKinnon, who directed the 2012 Broadway revival of Albee's 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?', never manages to combine these accomplished performers into a unified ensemble. Perhaps that balance will be reached as the run continues.

Albee likes his works to be directed by MacKinnon because, I think, she makes no attempt to amplify the angst, but concentrates instead on total veracity in primary colors and on turning her actors -- no small feat here -- into an ensemble of interdependent players...Close, returning to Broadway after many years away, will need more time to fully lubricate her considerable skills in this kind of stage-savvy company, although a note of self-consciousness is hardly inapt for Agnes, and Close is always true. But with Lithgow, everything is always in play. Right now. As Tobias, Lithgow's colors are as ample as his fellow's growing understanding that a drink cart is about all that separates a well-appointed home from an elevator, going down...This is, to say the least, a pleasurable three acts of watching others teeter on the brink, which always helps you last another day on terra firma yourself. Albee's gift to humanity, you might say.

: Director Pam MacKinnon...has paid exquisite attention to surface detail in her handsome revival...The work is overextended, not always dramatically convincing and sometimes too knowingly articulated. Yet there's something intriguing about its puzzling mix of realism and absurdism, which are ultimately reconciled in the dazzling display of Albee's fearless theatricality...This is an ensemble effort...The performances are all sharp -- Higgins' Edna is especially crisp -- but they're still coalescing. This is the kind of work that will deepen over time. As Agnes...Close is all patrician glamour and icy control...Her portrayal reveals the heavy burden Agnes has been carrying of keeping her family -- and her own psyche -- intact...Lithgow movingly depicts the panicked struggle of a man who realizes that he's in danger of being buried alive...If this production of 'A Delicate Balance' teeters unsteadily at moments, it remains always fascinating to behold. The pleasure lies less in the play's profundity than in its carefully coordinated staginess.

This new 'A Delicate Balance' is like a Christmas fruitcake that's been left out too long: It's boozy and loaded with goodies -- Glenn Close! John Lithgow! -- but it's also on the dry side. The booze you can almost taste because Edward Albee's characters are constantly liquoring up, probably to make up for their boredom. It's a feeling you too may share during Pam MacKinnon's bloodless production. She did a much better job with 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?' two years ago...As the play turns to the absurd, Albee's writing brims with black humor and red-hot loathing. The show, by contrast, is a benign beige. Lithgow is best when Tobias is playing along with the women in his life, but his big letting-it-all-out scene feels forced. And Close's one-note, tight-lipped performance keeps the audience at arms' length, the way Agnes distances herself from family and friends. A delicate balance? By the end of Act 3, it might refer to the one between wakefulness and sleep.

Hope arrives in the form of dread toward the end of the first act of Edward Albee's 'A Delicate Balance'...Up to that point in this production, directed by Pam MacKinnon, it's been hard to detect much feeling of any kind within the carefully color-coordinated, dust-free, energy-free environs that have been installed onstage. To be sure, the three talented and celebrated people we have been watching up there thus far -- Glenn Close, John Lithgow and Lindsay Duncan -- have been delivering their characters' zingers and stingers with crispness, clarity and, when one feels an important theme coming on, heavy italics. Yet they have the distant, flattened dimensions of specimens under glass...But then -- oh, sweet deliverance -- here come good old, miserable, intrusive Harry and Edna to shake things up...As embodied by Bob Balaban and Clare Higgins, Harry and Edna arrive like a gust of -- well, I was going to say fresh air, but what Harry and Edna bring with them is something noxious and polluted...Their acting is more subtle than anybody else's here, but it is also bone deep...Yet in this version of 'A Delicate Balance,' there is no underneath. Its stars speak the lines as if they -- I mean, the performers, not the characters -- know exactly what they're saying and why...As you would expect of these highly accomplished, multi-award-winning cast members, none of them are bad. But they're giving us the play, instead of living it.

There are few things more terrifying than a calm Glenn Close...Agnes, who sees it as her task to maintain order, never entirely loses her cool. But in Close's revelatory performance, she evolves from a woman who seems almost preternaturally composed -- even as she contemplates going mad, in her first lines -- to a more intimidating and sadder creature striving desperately for 'maintenance,' as she puts it...MacKinnon certainly doesn't shy away from Balance's absurdist leanings...Tobias and Agnes and their decades of baggage are central throughout, of course, and MacKinnon and her actors make it abundantly clear that this marriage is not a loveless one. The tenderness and regret in Lithgow's expression as Tobias looks at his wife, and the barely repressed agony Close brings to some lines, convey something greater than tolerance or co-dependence. These fine actors find the warmth in Albee's stinging message. It's a pleasure to see them in roles that accommodate both their intensity and their flair for nuance.

...if you don't let in this desolating, resonant piece (via brain or heart), it might indeed seem little else than two talky hours...A stony stare at varieties of moral vacancy, the play itself is full to bursting...I never saw the 1996 Lincoln Center revival, which reportedly struck a more realistic tone. But Pam MacKinnon directs this solid revival with a keen ear for the curling, teasing rhythms of Albee's ornate lines, and the performances are top-notch, including the perfectly deadpan Balaban and a sinister Higgins as the unwelcome guests. Martha Plimpton finds sympathetic notes in the difficult, shrill role of Julia, and Close and Lithgow handle their tricky speeches with grace and nuance. If Close is a touch too frosty, she's thawed by Lithgow's warmth.

'A Delicate Balance' proves to be the perfect vehicle for Close...On the surface, Agnes seems like an easy role to play -- a cold, emotionless monster who always appears to be in control. But Close paints a much more complex portrait. Her Agnes is a woman carrying layers of sadness and loss under that strength; A woman who allows herself to breathe through humor and love. It's a transfixing performance. Understated, yet the glue that holds everyone together. And Albee's words -- often presented in long, compound, poignant paragraphs -- will sound like pure poetry coming out of Close's mouth...Lithgow never lets us think that Tobias is a fool. He's just walked away from the battlefield. And when Tobias eventually returns to the fight in a pivotal scene in the play's third act, Lithgow leaves him raw, exposed and completely defenseless. MacKinnon, who won a Tony for directing the 2012 revival of Albee's 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf,' guides these greats through the author's lengthy literature wisely, striking her own delicate balance between pacing and performance.

What impresses arguably even more than the performances, however, is the structural brilliance of Albee's writing...Close's Agnes is all glacial poise, with articulate language to match. She rarely raises her voice above a genteel coo, even when speculating almost wistfully about the prospect of a retreat into madness...Despite his nominal position as patriarch, Tobias is a weaker specimen than either his wife or sister-in-law, and the key choices of his adult life have been about insulating himself from the truth. His tumble down the treacherous well of self-knowledge makes him the most affecting character, and Lithgow's performance is tremendous as Tobias releases years of pent-up anguish...There are piercing moments of pathos in all the performances...The director's blocking is impeccable, firmly delineating both the reaffirmations of power and the challenges to it...Both harsh and heartwrenching, this is a needling play that's of its time and yet still surging with post-modern vitality. Its dialogue and characters border on arch but are ineffably human.

...although the play still dazzles with wit, gorgeous writing and the lurking terror of mortality, we miss the accumulating shock he gave to the characters' lives of cozy self-satisfaction. Director Pam MacKinnon...spells things out here instead of letting Albee toy with us through suggestion and suspense...Albee...challenges actors with tyrannical syntactic demands -- mouthfuls of polysyllabic, unforgiving, grown-up paragraphs that require virtuosos to make them sound like speech. Lithgow is droll and manor-born as the retired Tobias, though we never believe he is as ineffectual as Agnes claims. Oddly, Close, who has three best-actress Tonys, seemed daunted at a recent preview by Agnes' exhilarating but Olympian monologues. Stumbling over the words is a special problem for a silver fox who fancies herself the fulcrum of the family's equilibrium...instead of upsetting the balance of self-satisfied old money, the scene screams ostentation. Nothing, alas, is delicate.

: 'A Delicate Balance' is a long play, and, particularly in Agnes' lengthy speeches, it can slow down, and become gloomy. It's a pitfall that this production, which is mostly rewarding, doesn't completely avoid. Its biggest asset is Lithgow, who gives one of those masterful performances that's entertaining even as it's dramatically potent.

'A Delicate Balance' is no play for sissies...All these years later, it's still very disturbing to look this work in the eye...Close, with her fine bones, imperial manner and elegant wardrobe (by Ann Roth), is positively regal as Agnes...Although Agnes admits to the all-too-human fear of losing her marbles and becoming 'mad as a hatter,' she'll brook no challenge to her authority from husband Tobias, played in Lithgow's carefully calibrated perf as a worm of a man -- but a worm who will eventually turn and deliver a blistering reckoning of the family's alienation from the living...It takes guts to take on a role famously played by Marian Seldes in the original production and by Elaine Stritch in the 1996 Broadway revival. So hats off to Duncan for the devilish joy she takes in the spiteful humor of that social rebel, a colorful scandal to the whole family, but a real menace to her sister's domination of the household.

At its best, it's thought-provoking and sometimes challenging, but it takes a long time to get moving, and I wonder whether modern-day audiences will be willing to wait for it...While the notion that well-to-do WASPs are dead inside is perhaps the least little bit overfamiliar, this is still a fairly promising setup for a theater-of-the-absurd comedy...'A Delicate Balance' comes across like a dramatically static rewrite of 'Virginia Woolf' with rather less drinking and much less cursing...Pam MacKinnon, who staged last year's outstanding Broadway revival of 'Virginia Woolf,' is Mr. Albee's preferred director, so we can assume that this direct, unmannered production is what the author had in mind...Ms. Close's performance is quiet, tasteful and underprojected, not surprising for an actor who has been absent from the stage for so long. Mr. Lithgow, by contrast, is in extraordinary form, by turns tightly inhibited and almost shockingly anguished.

Albee's 1967 Pulitzer Prize-winner, which takes an upper class, suburban WASP family to the breaking point over a weekend, is superbly directed by Pam MacKinnon and so well performed by a trans-Atlantic ensemble that each actor manages to convince you that they are the focus of the show...Albee has clearly found a soul mate in the examination of how life gets compromised and calcified. MacKinnon has an equally blistering cast this time, with Lithgow as a terribly good ineffective peacemaker, trying to avoid verbal land mines, counseling 'let it be,' and constantly fetching drinks. His story about an old house cat becomes an aria and his eventual collapse into a barking puddle of honesty is gorgeous. Close's Agnes perfectly navigates the role's twin dangers of barking self-righteousness, on the one hand, and nasty bitchiness on the other. She's able to switch from soft and loving to arch and noble to pounce like an alley cat.