Washington, DC—Now playing at the Kennedy Center’s Terrace Theater, Terrence McNally’s Lisbon Traviata offers quite a contrast with his Golden Age, which opened its run last week in the Center’s Family Theater. Both plays reflect McNally’s lifelong obsession with the opera. Both take a light, self-deprecating approach, at least initially. But Traviata takes a wicked turn as it explores the darker side of fan-aticism.

Set in New York City in the 1980s when the play was first written and produced, Lisbon Traviata starts out as a wildly funny slice of two very gay Greenwich Village lives. Big time book editor Stephen (Malcolm Gets) is visiting with his longtime best-pal Mendy (John Glover) in the latter’s slightly kitschy apartment whose primary décor consists of wall-to-ceiling racks of record albums. Not just any record albums, either. Mendy’s collection seems to consist solely of opera records, sometimes several different recordings of the same work, with a major focus on recordings of the last century’s ur-diva, soprano Maria Callas.

Hence the play's curious title, which alludes to a hard-to-get opera recording that becomes Mendy's single-issue passion as well as the play's life-metaphor.

Hmm. Maybe a foot-rub will communicate my
intentions more clearly. Mendy (John Glover)
and Stephen (Malcolm Gets). (Photo credit,
Carol Rosegg.)

The entirety of the first act consists of nonstop badinage between the two who conduct a running dispute as to which recordings are better and which show Callas at her best—or her rival divas at their worst. But we also sense a building unease on the part of Stephen, which extends to the much more ominous second act.

Here, we discover, this time in Stephen’s apartment, the detritus of a relationship that’s fast becoming terminal. Like Mendy’s pad, Stephen’s apartment is dwarfed by the size of his much-neater opera record collection. It's clear, however, that this collection has taken a toll on his long-running relationship with partner Mike (Manu Narayan). He's a Manhattan physician who’s deserting Stephen for hunky young lover, Paul (Chris Hartl). After a brief visit from Mendy, things head rapidly downhill as operatic tragedy morphs into real life.

Lisbon Traviata is compelling in many ways. Above all, it displays McNally’s astonishing way with words. As long as you have at least a smattering of opera knowledge—and are aware that it is a passionate fixation among many members of the gay community—you can roll along with the nonstop, in-joke hilarity of the first act. A more intimate knowledge of the opera world and the passions of classical music record collectors makes things even funnier.

Stephen and Mendy engage in an endless game of “Can You Top This?” as each tries to overwhelm the other with his superior knowledge and understanding of the genre, particularly when it comes to specific Callas performances and recordings. This stuff is sidesplittingly funny—literally—to the point where you wish the playwright would give you just a moment to catch your breath. The wittiness of the material here frequently matches that of Oscar Wilde at his best.

Act I is really Mendy’s act. Flamboyantly gay and loving it, Mendy’s behavior constantly borders on hysteria, often crossing that boundary before he himself is aware of it. Irritating, funny, annoying, and lovable in an odd, endearing way, Mendy is the kind of guy you can only take in small doses because he’ll wear you out. But McNally gives us just the right dosage in Act I.

Stephen, by contrast, seems a bit of a cold fish, constantly deflecting Mendy’s ongoing, heartbreaking desire for something more than friendship, deploying his own wavering relationship with Mike as a feeble excuse. And it’s feeble because, as we discover in Act II, there’s not much relationship left. Mendy, for all his flaws, can indulge his operatic obsession while still maintaining his friendships and sense of humanity. Stephen, however, has retreated entirely into the world of opera, leaving no room for friendships and relationships in the here and now. Fantasy, for him, has become a substitute for reality. Mendy, at least, can focus on another person between each bout of Callas worship.

Herein lies the problem with the play. Stephen is so divorced from the real world that he lacks the ability to see what’s really going on: how he himself one no one else is directly responsible for his own misery. Unfortunately, Stephen’s blindness and stupidity go on and on and on long after we’ve figured it out. At this point he becomes unbearably tedious and the play begins to drag.

And that’s the trajectory of the play, too. Act I is nonstop fun. It’s energized to the point of madness by the sheer, irresistible force of John Glover’s Mendy. I’ve rarely seen such a great performance by a single actor, but I saw it here on Thursday night. Glover himself is worth the price of admission, hands down. Even if you have a quarrel with the rest of the play—as I obviously do—you won’t regret plunking down your MasterCard to catch Glover’s over-the-top tour de force. It’s why people go to the theater.

That said, Glover’s Mendy wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun if McNally hadn’t given him such a great part. Contrariwise, if Malcolm Gets’ Stephen, particularly in Act II, seems to be so much of a stick-in-the-mud, that’s not a knock on Gets. He is not working with very sympathetic material.

Gets gives it a go, however. He’s a fine actor, and makes the most of what he’s got. He’s able to go toe-to-toe with Glover in Act I. Furthermore, his uncanny skill as a straight man makes it that much easier for Glover to launch his hilarious salvos.

Yet this is why things become less interesting in the second stanza. Lacking the sheer force of Mendy’s zaniness, Stephen’s clueless angst weighs on the action like Marley’s chains. Granted, personal disintegration is not a pretty thing. But, at least on stage, it should not become tiresome. You want to feel bad for Stephen as his life unravels before him. But in Lisbon Traviata, you end up simply not caring. Stephen is pathetic hero, not a tragic one.

Thinking about this reminded me of an interesting performance of George Bernard Shaw’sDevil’s Disciple that took place during last year’s Shaw Festival in Ontario-on-the-Lake in Canada. This is one of Shaw’s better efforts. But still, the first half began to drag in this performance. Maybe it was the direction. Maybe the actors weren’t quite selling their parts. But things noticeably picked up in the second stanza with the appearance of the witty, acid-tongued General Burgoyne.

Whether due to Shaw’s writing or the actor’s delivery, the theater was immediately electrified with this character’s energy. Even Burgoyne’s raised eyebrows would jump-start the audience laugh track again and again. It was like seeing two different plays. The first resembled an interminably dull lecture. But the second was something you wanted to take home to enjoy again and again.

In the case of Lisbon Traviata, that order is simply reversed. In and of itself, you’d like to replay that first act many times. But the second act seems a bit of a letdown. Perhaps this is the playwright’s intent, a way of contrasting functional and nonfunctional characters. But it didn’t quite work, at least for me.

Equally problematic were the parts written for Mike and Paul. While Mike is a bit more fully developed than his latest boy-toy, both seem two-dimensional when compared to Mendy and Stephen. They’re more like foils for the latter, although Mike’s brief dalliance with guilt seems. As with Gets and Glover, Narayan (Mike) and Hartl (Paul) do give it their best. That doesn’t make things perfect, but it helps a lot.

Real opera fans will enjoy Lisbon Traviata regardless of any objections I might voice. They’ll find the fun—and Act II’s very operatic conclusion—reflective of their own interests and occasional over-indulgences. Regular theatergoers will love John Glover’s boundless, life-force energy on stage. Those seeking lighter entertainment may want to find something else.

Family note: About 20 seconds of full-frontal male nudity in Act II. Little ones will be better off at home watching a “Little Mermaid” DVD.

Rating: ** ½ (Two and one-half stars.)

Tickets and information: Terrence McNally’s Lisbon Traviata through April 11. Tickets: $25-65. Call 800-444-1324 or 202-467-4600. Or click here for schedule and details and to order online.

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