Theater Online - New York Theater Reviews

Carol Rosegg ©2025  Rick Desloge, Lily Corvo, Marshall Pailet (front) Nancy Nagrant, William Broderick

They say in showbiz that timing is everything, and Michele Willens's familiar yet heartfelt new play Family Dinner might have had more sting if hadn't just followed a play with very much the same conceit that, incidentally, played right next door to this one only mere months ago. Her drama about a 1960s family trying to make sense of their relations that in the second act morphs into same family's next generation is very much in line with Bruce Norris's Clybourne Park-both examining how time changes the stakes of relationships but in no way defines them. If you happened to see the latter, it's nearly impossible not to recall it, as for all of Family Dinner's strong intentions, it never quite makes a clean breakthrough about generational discomfort like Norris's effort did.

The comparison isn't exactly aligned, as this is a play not based in satire, which is actually something of a relief. When we first see the Wells family decked out in Janell Berte's insightful costumes, we expect a winking, aw-shucks memory play seen through contemporary eyes, but there is no such tone here. The clan, led by Jane (Nancy Nagrant), a former music prodigy turned casserole-baker, and Howard (William Broderick), the hard-drinking, aloof dad, is not defined by their dysfunction but simply live with with it. Their three children are idealized yet believable: eldest Alex (Rick Desloge) is a sensitive soul into poetry and science, brother Johnny (Marshall Pailet) is a charismatic, adored jock, and youngest Maggie (Lily Corvo) is the biggest focal point, a vibrant adolescent defined by her admirations (Ann-Margret, Sandra Dee), one of which is her heartthrob teacher (John Haggerty) who has less innocent desires for her.

Young Maggie professes she does not want to be “like her mother”,and one of the play's themes is how we embody our parents' traits without knowing it, and the power of withholding from those who look after you. In Act II, set in BlackBerry-holding and fast-moving New York City of 2002, Maggie has grown into a successful yet resentful woman with two children of her own and a husband she is separating from. Alex, still close with Maggie, is a lonely teacher, and Johnny is a record industry huckster who continually borrows cash from Maggie for quick schemes that don't pan out. And their mother-nearing 80 with diabetes-pleads ignorance to the family's past whenever possible, but knows far more than she leads on.

Director Jamibeth Margolis has paced the show nicely, and the first act is thorough and entertaining until an awkwardly staged conclusion that unfortunately also defines its less satisfying second act. Strangely, the more the characters unveil about their true selves, the less compelling the piece becomes. When Johnny asks at one point after the interval if Maggie has been “watchin' too much Oprah”, we begin to wonder the same of the playwright. The first act's sly, subtle reveals about these people becomes a bit cliched in their adulthood, with dialogue that feels too predigested.

The ensemble is fairly strong though: Nagrant handles her tricky double role (playing adult Maggie in Act II) quite well, Patrick Riviere (as the adult Alex) has some very touching moments, and best of all is Lily Corvo-also doubling in Act II as her own daughter (shades of Grey Gardens)-very impressive and endearingly exact as a young teen.