Plaza Suite Broadway Reviews

The first thing you see when the curtain goes up on 'Plaza Suite' is an aquatint image of that grand hotel in its antique glory. But when it comes to datedness, the faux-French pile that opened its doors in 1907 has nothing on the Neil Simon comedy - itself a faux-French pile - that debuted on Broadway in 1968. Despite the wearying efforts of a likable cast headed by Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker, the passage of 54 years is more than enough to reveal the triptych of one-act plays as uninhabitable in 2022.

The third play climaxes with various comic lazzi that Simon could have borrowed from Goldoni, if there were seventh-floor hotel rooms in 18th-century Venice. It's a bummer when it finally turns back into a Simon relationship play, with some limp observations about these youth today. Is this a flaw in the original, or in this revival? It's tricky to work out, since so much depends on rhythm. In all three plays, Hickey and his actors have found many little moments for physical comedy - Muriel sometimes kicks her legs like a colt trying to get to its feet, Roy clearly has a twingey back - but these jolts are rarely enough to create a sustained energy. The same is true for the evening as a whole. I know you can't wander around rewriting Neil Simon, but maybe they could have just ... skipped the middle one-act? That one's a cold cocktail frankfurter, I'll tell you that.

It's no surprise that the production's high-voltage stars, who last appeared together on Broadway nearly 30 years ago, have an easy, unassailable chemistry. There's even a slight air of voyeurism to casting Broderick and Parker to perform husband-and-wife routines, as though they might offer an oblique glimpse inside the couple's private life. But despite their offstage connection and individual talents, their performances here are out of step.

If anyone was going to make his 1968 Plaza Suite a hit in 2022, it's Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick. Two longtime Broadway darlings, they are as 'classic New York' a couple as they come. To say their name is to invoke visions of champagne-washed elegance, of well-heeled strolls through the city's tony avenues, of effortless bliss. And yet not even SJP's incandescent star power can brush off the dust settled on this three-act look at marriage in the late '60s. Unadorned by John Benjamin Hickey's straightforward direction, the highly anticipated, pandemic-delayed production does only improve as it goes on, so long as you make it past its dreadful first act.

Aside from the odd dated reference - Dr. Joyce Brothers, hello? - and some unfortunate reminders of our current time - like that powerful Hollywood producers using hotel rooms for seduction isn't very funny anymore - 'Plaza Suite' definitely feels more than 50 years old. It's stuck in the mid-20th century with its privileged elites, offering pre-feminist musings on midlife crises and the elusiveness of marital bliss, all over a room service double scotch. It is being staged for the very people who feel the need to burst into applause when they first see John Lee Beatty's gorgeous Plaza set, complete with chandeliers, sconces and timelessly elegant chairs. They know they'll be gently taken care of in here, like guests at a stuffy, hyper-expensive hotel living off its legacy, that has endured. Not challenged or stretched. It is an elegant looking past, yes, but it's time for the new. Today, it has to be new.

So thank goodness for Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick - the two contemporary stars perhaps most apt for an exercise in squareness. To call their work in the new Broadway revival of 'Plaza Suite' at the Hudson Theatre 'diligent' is to suggest a leaden night out. But the real-life married couple bring a serious commitment to the spirit of the work, allowing their own personas to throw some metatextual sparks without overtaking the spirit of Simon. As directed by John Benjamin Hickey, Parker and Broderick provoke, alienate and woo one another, and provide a strong argument for a playwright whose work seems next-to-impossible to subvert.

Alas, the stars' efforts, while certainly appealing, don't make the material any less obsolete, a throwback to the bougie boulevard comedies that were once a Broadway staple. The observations on marriage and relationships occasionally generate a chuckle, but more often seem stale and the sexual politics retrograde, something that John Benjamin Hickey's serviceable direction can't disguise. The laughs mostly spring from watching a real-life showbiz couple kick back and have fun bouncing off each other. Judging by the hearty response at a recent press night, for many that might be reward enough.

On stage now, Parker is as hard-working as Broderick is relaxed. She's always engaging because she's always coming up with some novel bit of business or an unusual line reading to keep us distracted from the fact that what she's doing and what she's saying is often not very inspired on the part of Simon. Congrats are in order here for Parker's director, John Benjamin Hickey.

In the midst of domestic political tensions, overseas conflict, the pandemic, and emotionally-charged cultural debates, 'Plaza Suite' offers sitcom comedy, sharp one-liners, sentimental and nostalgic touches, straightforward direction (by actor John Benjamin Hickey), and performances by two familiar stage and screen stars. It's the equivalent of feel-good comfort food, like grandma's chicken noodle soup - at least until it becomes clear that the production is not as good as it ought to be.

In every scene, Parker is giving the most, carrying the comedy on her narrow shoulders - slumped for Karen, shrugging for Muriel, a wilting if increasingly frantic flower for mother-of-the-bride Norma. Broderick, is doing a lot less, as is his way. But they have a flagrant enjoyment in playing opposite each other, which is the best and maybe the only reason to book in. In the midst of all this heteronormative malaise, here, at least, is one happy marriage.

More than anything else, Plaza Suite, opening tonight at the Hudson Theatre, provides one of Broadway's most loved couples the chance to share the stage in a slick, amiable setting that asks just enough of its stars to successfully woo an audience primed for love. Directed by John Benjamin Hickey with a clear reverence for Simon and the theatrical era in which his 1968 comedy titillated matinee audiences, this new Plaza Suite feels mostly like an exercise in nostalgia - for a couple we've watched grow up, for a Broadway that demands little, and for the late playwright whose contributions to popular culture go far beyond this mid-level effort.

Co-starring Parker's husband Matthew Broderick, the 1960s-set comedy is an old-fashioned affair to be sure, but a sparkling one. 'Sex and the City' fans will certainly enjoy it more than HBO's weirdly woke and clunky 'And Just Like That.' And, for everybody else, Simon's middle-drawer play is a relaxing vacation from our overly serious theater season.

If one goes into Studio 54 expecting a dusty old collection of boulevard comedies, they are in for a real surprise and a real treat. These are truly funny comedies of manners-usually bad manners-that have aged quite well, and Parker and Broderick are in top form, keeping things fresh and moving. Parker in particular gives a virtuoso comic performance. In each play, she moves easily from landing a subtle comic line to broad physical comedy to some very touching moments. And all the time, she keeps any Carrie Bradshaw mannerisms under wraps. She just has to come back to Broadway more often.

Neil Simon's Plaza Suite is back on Broadway, and the title character looks great. When the curtain goes up, the set gets entrance applause; designed by John Lee Beatty, that master of envy-inducing decor, it has a golden glow of classic luxury. Simon's hit 1968 trilogy of short comedies, about three different couples in Room 719 of the ritzy Manhattan hotel, is perhaps less timeless in its appeal. Its main characters are mostly middle-aged, and so is the writing; it is now over 50, and its comic cheek is showing some laugh lines. But the vestiges of laughs are nice wrinkles, as wrinkles go, and while this production doesn't leave you rolling in the aisles, it is likely to at least leave you smiling.

For both actors, Plaza Suite ought to be a wonderful workout, a chance to show off versatility while nailing Simon's well-crafted yuks. Instead, it feels like community theater for rich people, amateurish despite the deluxe sets and costumes (by John Lee Beatty and Jane Greenwood, respectively). When you leave Neil Simon feeling protective of his literary reputation, you know something's gone terribly wrong.