Theatre in Review: The Commons of Pensacola (Manhattan Theatre Club/City Center)Recently, Manhattan Theatre Club has been giving prime theatrical space to plays by well-known actors. There's nothing wrong with this plan on the face of it, but so far it can't be said to be going well. We Live Here, by Zoe Kazan, had an interesting premise and no second act whatsoever. The Commons of Pensacola, by Amanda Peet, also has an interesting premise, but it plays like a first draft desperately in need of fleshing out. Nevertheless, director Lynne Meadow has obtained the services of Blythe Danner and Sarah Jessica Parker for Peet's debut as a playwright, ensuring that it will be seen by full houses. Whether MTC is doing the playwright a favor with this starry, glossy production is another question. Danner plays Judith, who will remind you very much of Ruth Madoff. With her husband in prison and her family in disgrace, Judith has retreated to a cheap condominium on what one character calls "the redneck Riviera" in Pensacola, Florida. Deserted by nearly everyone and beset by multiple illnesses, she makes a big show of coping, but underneath, she simmers with rage at being stripped of her life of privilege. (She isn't quite as in denial as Cate Blanchett's similar character in Woody Allen's Blue Jasmine, but she's not far off.) As played by Danner, she's both charmingly willful and tough as nails, trying to act as if her fallen state is all a lark, rebelliously dipping into a quart of ice cream (forbidden to her as a diabetic) and ostentatiously counting the dollars when paying the maid she can't afford. "I'm the only person in the entire state of Florida who can't wait to get Alzheimer's," she comments, trying to make fun of her predicament. It's Thanksgiving and Judith receives a visit from her fortyish daughter, Becca (Parker), an actress whose career is going nowhere, and her 29-year-old boyfriend, Gabe, described by Becca as "a guerilla journalist." ("Like Jane Goodall?" inquires Judith, acidly.) Without Judith's knowledge, Gabe and Becca have sold to a television network a "docu-series" chronicling the lives of Judith and Becca, making them a kind of Joan and Melissa Rivers of the robber baron set. The challenge for the weekend is to sell the project -- which is meant to rehabilitate Judith's reputation and jump-start Becca's career -- to Judith. The chances that Becca could have signed a contract without evidence of Judith's participation are nil, but this point is dropped for a lengthy period of time following the surprise arrival of Lizzy, Judith's granddaughter, and Ali, Judith's daughter and Lizzy's mother, who has opted out of the family scandal. What follows is a risible series of revelations -- a runaway daughter, a casual sexual betrayal, a condom discovered at exactly the wrong moment -- conducted without regard to character or pacing. Watching this part of The Commons of Pensacola is rather like tuning in to one of those nighttime television soaps that offer new twists at each quarter hour, just before the commercial break. The biggest revelation has to do with the substantial stacks of 500-euro notes that are hidden in the refrigerator, despite that fact that Judith was supposed to sign over all her assets to the government. This sets the stage for the long, drawn-out mother-daughter showdown that must have been the main attraction for Danner and Parker. The ladies do not disappoint. Danner tears into the scene with Medea-like fury, and Parker matches her every step of the way. In some ways, Danner has the easier job, because the ambiguity of Judith is the point: What did she know about her husband's crimes and when did she know it? Becca is so thinly drawn -- we know next to nothing about her career, except that she has been living in her car and babysitting for her agent, and she is apparently a magnet for losers in the man department -- that she barely seems to exist. The same goes for Zoe Levin as Lizzy, who behaves in a thoroughly reprehensible way for no apparent reason, and for Michael Stahl-David as Gabe, whose character flip-flops between idealism and opportunism from moment to moment. Ali Marsh makes the most of her one scene as Ali, prosecuting her case against Judith with vigor. Nilaja Sun makes a strong impression as the maid, whose devotion to Judith does not extend to being exploited by her. As is usually the case, Meadow's production is full of first-rate appointments. Santo Loquasto's condominium setting is totally on the mark, offering a nifty side view of the building's exterior through the upstage right window. (You could stage Donald Margulies' The Model Apartment, also set in a down-market Florida apartment complex, on it equally well.) Jason Lyons provides some evocative nighttime looks and also artfully shows the passage of time by creating shadows, cast by the window blinds, that move across the room as the sun sets. Tom Broecker's costumes are full of smart character observations. Jill BC DuBoff's sound design is perfectly solid. But as it stands, The Commons of Pensacola is a thin piece of construction that needs much more development if it is ever going to work; most of the plays seen on MTC's Stage are far more finished that this one. If the goal was to provide a star vehicle at holiday time, then I guess it's a case of mission accomplished. But somehow it's hard not to feel that Amanda Peet, the playwright, hasn't been well-served.--David Barbour 
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