New York Times
An 1836 Plot Kept Afloat By Devices From Today
By Neil Genzlinger
Theater Review
Tuesday, July 23, 2002
Attention all cryonic labs: if you have any 200-year-old Germans in the racks,
now is a good time to thaw them out, because only they are likely to appreciate
fully “Leonce & Lena,” the 1836 comedy by Georg Buchner now receiving a
colorful staging at the Connelly Theater.
Oh, there are dabblings of whimsy that will amuse humans of more recent
vintage, and the costumes and lighting are eye-popping, but the play seems a
bit perplexed to find itself in the 21st century. Perhaps it was revolutionary in
its time, but today it seems more like a wafer-thin story buried in a mound of
spun sugar.
All of which makes “Leonce and Lena” a somewhat odd choice for the recently
created Amphibian Productions, based in Fort Worth, to offer as its first major
New York effort. Leonce (Jonathan Fielding) is a shiftless prince, Lena (Keirin
Brown) an overdressed princess; after an exceedingly long stretch in which not
much happens, they meet by accident and fall in love. The end.
Buchner, better known for “Woyzeck,” left only a few plays behind when he
died at 23. And when he wrote “Leonce and Lena,” he seems to have had a
limited amount to say. Sure, themes and ideas pole through now and again.
The idle rich get a particular skewering, but the failure of this material to
resonate today, despite all the idle richness around us, tells you that Buchner
ain’t Shakespeare. And although the aimless banter between Leonce and his
fool, Valerio (appealingly played by Carman Lacivita), may be a distant
forerunner of Gogo and Didi, it’s too anemic to be of much interest.
So with essentially no play to work with, Amphibian is left to its own devices –
lots and lots of them. Here the company shows plenty of imagination and
energy (and apparently financial backing). Laura Anderson Barbata’s
costumes are great, especially Lena’s preposterous dress. (Is it clothing or is it
a house?) Chad R. Jung’s lighting is often mesmerizing. Lenard Petit’s
direction, awash in bits and gimmicks, keeps it all moving briskly, even if it has
no place to go. When all these talents are turned loose on a play that is more
than a mere historical curiosity, watch out.