“If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change”–I thought of this line, from the classic novel and film The Leopard, immediately after seeing The Balusters, now playing at the Manhattan Theatre Club. Among many other things this fantastically fierce and funny show, the latest from Rabbit Hole and Kimberly Akimbo playwright David Lindsay-Abaire, builds word power. A “baluster,” if you didn’t know, is a vertical post that supports handrails on stairs, decks, and balconies. Elliot Emerson (Richard Thomas), the long-time neighborhood association president of the town he’s proudly called home his entire life, is essentially a baluster in human form, dedicated to upholding charming Vernon Point’s architectural and civic standards. But he’s beginning to crack…
The catalyst is the association’s newest member, Kyra Marshall (Anika Noni Rose), recently arrived from Baltimore. At first glance Kyra is an ideal addition to the multiracial, more or less progressive-minded board Elliot has assembled. She does, however, have questions, as the nine-person group holds its monthly meetings in her home, the pride of the block. Conversations about a house with historically inaccurate balusters (you will not forget this word) deepen and darken into chit-chat about episodes of alleged teenage vandalism and overheard slurs about the Muslims in the supermarket. Judiciously wielding his prized gavel, Elliot, a realtor with communal clout, urges everyone on the nine-person association to speak their mind, and they do, often hilariously. But when matters come to a vote these free thinkers inevitably vote his way. It’s a habit Kyra finds exasperating, particularly regarding an esplanade prey to potentially dangerous traffic. The problem is most easily rectified with stop signs, which Elliot simply won’t allow; they ruin the view. Nor will Kyra budge, as the two attempt to build coalitions and gird for war.
The Balusters fits snugly into the emerging genre of “board comedy,” following Tracy Letts’ The Minutes and Jonathan Spector’s Eureka Day. Lindsay-Abaire based it on his neighborhood association in Brooklyn, and anyone who’s served on any board of any kind (raises hand) will relate to the oh-so-polite twists of the plot, and the knife; as things get ugly, we learn of the lethality of Kyra’s “direct” approach. One character likens the meetings to a game of Clue, with gossip as currency to be used as brutally as required. The show put me in mind, however, of Agatha Christie’s play And Then There Were None, her adaptation of her novel Ten Little N…umm, Indians, an early example of the language policing The Balusters comically dissects. This is no two-hander; the playwright has put nine board members up there on Derek McLane’s dapper set, and even conjures a raging thunderstorm to dispatch a character as candid revelations expose each for hypocrisy, one by one. Under Kenny Leon’s expert direction the pace of this two-hour one-act show never flags, with every performer tightly bound to the ensemble, then allowed to sparkle. Everyone will have their favorites: mine included the acid Margaret Colin, in full suburban diva mode; Michael Esper, who has a fantastic monologue about middle-aged white guys like him trying, and failing. to keep up with our woke and DEI era; Kayli Carter as Esper’s youthful foil, savagely maintaining ever-changing standards of discourse; and Maria-Christina Oliveras as the tenth member of the cast, Kyra’s housekeeper (formerly Elliot’s), whose motivations are kept under wraps. Plus, of course, Lindsay-Abaire’s muse Marylouise Burke, as Elliot’s right-hand woman, his faithful secretary, who’s not as dim as she appears, maybe. Suffice to say that every player connects with the playwright’s dialogue, which draws laughs and applause throughout.
But the really funny thing about The Balusters is that for all its sharp-elbowed satire it comes out swinging in full support of community. Like Henry “Fonz” Winkler and Alan “Hawkeye” Alda “John-boy” Thomas was cursed with early TV fame; also like them he’s aged into a splendid character actor. The unchanging Elliot is clearly not acquainted with The Leopard but Thomas makes his growing rage as comprehensible and pitiable as it is amusing; there are no villains in The Balusters, just people trying to do what’s best despite their limitations and prejudices. Likewise, there are no heroes, either, with a final sting in the tail for the one, formidably played character we think will be spared. She isn’t. What The Balusters says is that we contain multitudes–but some of them kinda suck, and we just have to muddle through with each other.
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