Lombardi Broadway Reviews

There is one scene that offers a genuine clash of ideas and personalities. Star running back Jim Taylor wants to have his agent represent him in salary negotiations. Taylor legitimately demands a piece of the game's ever-increasing profits, while the tradition-bound Lombardi bristles at the notion of a 'goddamn gutter-crawling' middleman getting between him and his players. Two worthy opponents who believe in their positions are locked in a dramatic conflict. It's strongly played by Dan Lauria, as the coach, and Chris Sullivan, as Taylor. But it's a rare highly charged moment in the middle of a Biography Channel–like documentary. Director Thomas Kail does little to increase the action, save for having David Korins' set revolve as a substitute for theatrical movement.

If you know who Vince Lombardi is, the play is most likely exactly what you'd expect it to be: a portrait of decent, honorable figure who earns the devotion of his players by tough-loving them into the best they're capable of being. If you don't know who he is, you can simply disregard the scattered names from the past and sprinklings of sports jargon, and Lombardi stands as self-explanatory. Just remember that if you hear a few chuckles and/or applause for some seemingly random lines ('We didn't lose; we just ran out of time.') it's because the evening does embrace quite a few beloved sports clichés; but Lombardi is such an earnest play that the clichés seem perfectly natural in context.

Eric Simonson's play is told through the eyes of a Look magazine reporter who spent a week with Lombardi during the 1965 season, providing an excuse for lots of irrelevant talk about editors and deadlines, but almost no useful insights into Lombardi (played, just adequately, by former Wonder Years star Dan Lauria), aside from the fact that he apparently yelled a lot. Instead, we waste a lot of time with Lombardi's wife (Judith Light) and three Packer stars — Paul Hornung, Jim Taylor and Dave Robinson — who don't act as though they could tell the difference between a safety blitz and a safety razor.

It's a fine TV special, but it's not very riveting theater. And on TV it would have had what it conspicuously lacks here: narration by that deep, gravelly NFL Films voice.

The dazzling sound and lighting turn a simple stage into a pro-football field, and Judith Light cuts through a loud, cold men’s world with her warm brilliance.

Perhaps that's the real magic of this piece—it really is for everyone, fan and novice alike. I thoroughly enjoyed this production, but that should be expected as I am an ex-football player who knows what it is like to grind it out in the trenches of the line of scrimmage. Yet my companion, who is neither a fan nor particularly fond of football, equally enjoyed the production. Credit the stellar performances of this ensemble cast, particularly that of Lauria, who triumphs as the embodiment of an icon, plus terrific direction and design. And credit an imaginative playwright who has written a loving tribute to the legend that is Lombardi.

This may not be the game most ticket buyers to 'Lombardi' pay to see; the play allows them merely to bask in a sports hero's glow. If that's all you require from the experience, 'Lombardi' may be sufficient. For others, however, the predicaments of the big man in the spotlight aren't as involving as the smaller one who's clutching the notebook.

Finally, there’s a Broadway show to which husbands can drag their wives rather than the other way around. But though the new biodrama about famed football coach Vince Lombardi is bound to attract sports fans who otherwise would not venture near a theater, theatergoers not inherently interested in the subject are going to be a much tougher sell. Heavy on sports atmosphere but light on content, “Lombardi” doesn't make it to the goal line.

Lauria does little to scrape off the bronze and find the man inside. And why should he? Neither Simonson's script nor director Thomas Kail seems to be asking him to. Lauria's merely called upon to roar and rant and aphorize, and occasionally double over in pain, a nod to the colon cancer brewing in his gut. (Clutching a protuberant belly and vowing never to let some doctor put a scope 'up there': It's the male-melodrama equivalent of the tragic cough into the blood-speckled hankie.) Occasionally, Lauria prowls the outer boundaries of the man's son-of-immigrants insecurities, but there's precious little time for detail work between barking fits, and these declamations are clearly where he's put the bulk of his preparation.

Light is stunning as his wife, a woman who reluctantly left her life in New Jersey for Wisconsin's frozen tundra. She wears a helmet of '60s-housewife hair, likes downing highballs and has some of the driest, funniest lines. The visiting journalist soon recognizes that she's the key person to talk to, much as she is the fulcrum of the play.

Like the Packers' bread-and-butter play — 49 Power Sweep — the drama generates power from its simplicity. Performed on a spare 360-degree circular stage without an intermission, director Thomas Kail's production makes effective use of vintage football footage and the evocative music that fans will recognize from grainy NFL documentaries. But there is a sitcom flavor to the play's comic rhythm and well-worn themes, and while the conclusion leaves the question of Lombardi's true character unanswered, the conflicted narrator himself seems to prod the audience to side with the legend. Of course, Lombardi is not a show to diminish its hero, and with Lauria and Light's sterling duet, fans can rest assured that their champion's legacy is secure.

There is probably a built-in audience for 'Lombardi,' the by-the-numbers biographical play that marks the National Football League's debut as a Broadway co-producer. That niche had better be a big one. For someone not previously enthralled with Vince Lombardi's famous winning streak as coach of the Green Bay Packers in the '60s, the only compelling part of Eric Simonson's untheatrical script is the mystery of what it's doing on Broadway.

The director, Thomas Kail ('In the Heights'), manages traffic effectively, but the play's scattered structure and lack of a strong focus on its central character deprive it of forward momentum. Mr. Lauria, who bears a passable resemblance to Lombardi, supplies jolts of energy when he can, lacing the pep talks with gusto or stalking the living room with broody irritability, Pepto-Bismol in hand, when problems on the field arise. (The in-the-round set, by David Korins, subtly suggests the shape of a football stadium.) What no actor could provide is the compelling emotional or psychological substance that's absent from the writing.

Researchers have calculated that in your average three-hour NFL broadcast, the ball is in actual play for roughly 11 minutes. I can guarantee that, for the 95-minute duration of Lombardi, Dan Lauria’s bellowing-to-speaking ratio is twice as much. Portraying the iconic coach who transformed his losing Green Bay Packers into serial winners in the early ’60s, Lauria barks, shouts, howls, roars, and—for subtle effects—growls ominously. Vince Lombardi, we learn in Eric Simonson’s canny and humorous script, was not a man given to understatement or mild utterance; through force of will and steel-reinforced lungs he vociferated his way into sports history.

Lombardi was idolized by players and fans for his tough-love approach. His reputation lives on, bolstered by his real accomplishments on the field and maybe even more by his inspirational speeches - he's basically Elizabeth Gilbert for guys. It would have been good to spice up the play with some plays.

Even if you never cared about Lombardi, you'll enjoy 'Lombardi.' And that really is everything.

Vince Lombardi was bigger than life on and off the football field, a sports icon whose winning record and volatile character make him a natural for dramatic exploration. No doubt writer Eric Simonson saw the potential basing his play on a Lombardi biography by David Maraniss. And while he's blessed with a solid team, 'Lombardi' the play isn't entirely a winner.

Though many scenes are static, director Thomas Kail ('In the Heights') scores points with his audience-friendly staging for this in-the-round theater. The production's touchdown comes when Lombardi drills the Pack on the power sweep, the play that helped make them unbeatable. As X's and O's rush across the bare stage and give way to images of players in green and gold, the play at last comes to life. It's the sort of winning moment Lombardi would expect - and that this show needs more of.

The acting is brilliant, the story's compelling and there are genuine moments of triumph, tension and despair. Dan Lauria, best known for his work as Kevin Arnold's father on 'The Wonder Years', is a spitting image of Lombardi, while actress Judith Light plays his wife, Marie. Paul Hornung, Jim Taylor and Dave Robinson are all central figures, as well.

But a book is one thing and a play quite another. And theater in the round, where minimal scenery must come up from below the stage and sink back again in order not to block anyone's view, is another tough nut to crack. Especially if there are only three football players along with the journalist and Marie, the coach's stoical wife, to lend support to the protagonist. There are some slide projections, to be sure, but much -- perhaps too much -- is left to the imagination.

Swigging Pepto-Bismol, a handsomely grizzled Lauria looks very much like the squat, paunchy Lombardi and easily assumes the coach's thundering ways. Often very funny, yet poignant, Judith Light creates a wry, poker-faced Marie whose wisdom shines behind an alcoholic haze. Always a dynamic actor, Keith Nobbs lends McCormick a strong sense of urgency (plus a hard-edged Jersey accent that sure doesn't sound like Bergen County to my Oradell-bred ears). Easygoing Bill Dawes is very much a sporty golden boy as Paul Hornung, solidly backed by Chris Sullivan and Robert Christopher Riley respectively as teammates Jim Taylor and Dave Robinson.

Can 'Lombardi' be the show to overcome Broadway's ingrained disdain for sports-themed plays? That depends on audience expectations of Eric Simonson's biodrama (based on a book by David Maraniss) about Hall of Fame football coach Vince Lombardi. Fans content just to spend a few hours in the company of this great guy should be mesmerized by Dan Lauria's spot-on impersonation of the famously hot-tempered Lombardi. More sports-minded auds, eager for insights on how this legendary coach famously guided the Green Bay Packers to five Super Bowl championships, might want to know why the show spends so little time on the gridiron. Lauria, the lovably grumpy sitcom dad on 'The Wonder Years,' brings that endearing quality to his scrappy portrait of Lombardi as the surrogate father who bullied, scolded, cheered and dragged the Packers out of the NFL cellar and on to glory. Working off his own bulldog physique and gap-toothed grin, Lauria achieves an eerie physical resemblance to Lombardi, who used his whole body to speak his mind.

Lombardi liked to say that while perfection isn't attainable, in chasing it we can catch excellence. Lombardi may aspire to and achieve something less, but there are worse ways to spend 95 minutes.

Mr. Lauria, whom TV viewers will remember from 'The Wonder Years,' knows a dream part when he sees one, and makes the most of this one. He plays Mr. Lombardi like a warmer but comparably tough version of George C. Scott's Patton, and lurking beneath the buzzsaw bluster of his win-or-else tirades is a stealthy note of Pattonesque desperation, the fear that he'll blow his last chance to make it as a head coach. Indeed, I was startled by the cinder-dark passion with which Mr. Lauria assures Keith Nobbs, the geeky reporter-interlocutor who narrates 'Lombardi,' that he'd 'just as soon die' as watch the Packers slip back into second place. I believed it, and so will you.