Babe Off-Broadway Reviews

“Babe” runs only 85 minutes. Goldberg packs into her play both too much and not enough. Beyond Abigail’s variable health, there’s something too simplistic in the equation that female equals brilliant, male equals dumb. Is it possible that both Gus and Abigail are equally good at their job, but the one has all the power, fame and money? Then again, that novel idea might take another 10 or 15 minutes of stage time.

In any case, if the play’s point is unclear, the production has its pleasure, not least seeing Marisa Tomei on stage express an impressive range of emotions, from ecstasy to fury to resignation and regret to… rock n roll. She and Gracie McGraw dance to snippets of original rock music composed for the production by the group BETTY.

Instead, it’s fellow record producer Abigail (Marisa Tomei) and Kat jamming to Bikini Kill’s “Rebel Girl,” the riot grrrl inspiration for Kat’s persona and oeuvre. Babe is more imitative than innovative, copying not just musicians but the social politics of workplace harassment more skillfully explored by other writers. Tomei’s celebrity will attract audiences, but her performance mostly consists of blurting through awkward encounters and grooving to each new artist Katherine brings to work. (A final confrontation between Abigail and Gus finally delivers emotional satisfaction, though Abigail’s sudden change of heart arrives too swiftly.) The characters also speak of music like it’s foreign, its comforts a secret to anyone outside the industry, with only vague descriptors.

Director Scott Elliott fails to make the proceedings fully coherent, and such stylistic devices as having actors silently remain onstage even when their characters are not in the scene simply feel pretentious. The performers struggle with their underwritten roles; Howard, playing Gus with suitable bluster, feels miscast, the actor’s natural likability at odds with his character’s piggishness. Tomei fares the best, conveying her character’s emotional and physical travails with intensity and humor. But it’s not enough to prevent Babe from feeling schematic in its #MeToo movement themes.

Directed by Scott Elliott, the production takes some time to catch fire. Arliss and McGraw plumb the depths of their characters as the play progresses and, particularly in Arliss's performance, infuse the portrayals with empathy. Initially, however, they are presented as broad comic types. The set-up, recalling David Mamet's Oleanna, limits Tomei's character to responding to the situation, her emotions expressed through stilted and awkward physical gestures. Additionally, Goldberg's depiction of an unlikely flirtation between the women feels contrived, and its only purpose seems to be for highlighting Abigail's troubled history. The backstory does, however, provide opportunities for a handful of effective grunge and punk songs by the indie rock band BETTY. (Jessica Paz's sound design contributes to the periodic rock-concert ambiance.)