
Theater review
ANGRY ALAN
85 minutes with no intermission. At Studio Seaview, 305 W. 43rd Street.
For nine years, audiences grew to love John Krasinski’s mild-mannered Jim on “The Office”: His half-grins, dry confessionals, knowing glances at Pam. Jim was one of TV’s nicest guys.
And that’s what makes the puppy-dog actor’s casting in Penelope Skinner’s engrossing play “Angry Alan,” which opened off-Broadway Wednesday at the brand-spankin’-new Studio Seaview, so shrewd.
There’s instantaneous affection for Krasinski’s divorced dad character Roger, sight unseen. In director Sam Gold’s production — a rapid-fire slideshow of a man unraveling — he even lives in a sit-com-like shoebox house.
After a short honeymoon phase, our devotion to Roger is repeatedly tested, tensely, as the normal-at-first dude grows darker and becomes obsessed with frightening ideologies in a warped corner of the internet.
Like watching a terrible news story, we quietly wonder if the same unfortunate fate could befall someone emotionally struggling in our own lives. Freakier still, it absolutely can.
Roger has a lot of reasons to be unhappy. His teen son barely speaks to him, an artsy girlfriend has been distant after meeting new like-minded friends and he’s landed a job at a grocery store since getting let go from a lucrative gig at AT&T.
The downcast dad finds some solace in “Angry Alan,” a YouTuber who rails online about men being given the old heave-ho by what he believes is now a women-run world.
Initially, Rog’s takeaways from the channel are innocent enough: That more men are depressed today; that fewer are graduating from college; that being a provider is an unnecessarily burdensome male stereotype. But the rhetoric fast turns violent, rage-filled and all-consuming. Those early sparks of sweet Jim are soon snuffed out.
Roger still wrings out a laugh here and there, but with increasing discomfort. He pours all his time and cash into “Angry Alan.” He’s glued to his screen constantly and attends a messed-up convention with weirdos in Detroit. He stops paying child support. He keeps damaging secrets from his girlfriend. Eventually Roger’s gross jokes make us squirm in our seats.
The ever-shifting part takes full advantage of Krasinski’s naturally positive vibe, which adds complexity to a chatty fellow who could easily be a pain in the ass. The actor also reveals an unexpected magnetism that TV kept under a bushel.
Krasiniski is a much more commanding stage performer than I ever thought he’d be, and he capably freight-trains through his almost-monologue while never sacrificing nuance or beats of the story. Gold, who theatergoers tend to associate with pregnant pauses, does just as well with Skinner’s gap-free dash as he does with Annie Baker’s pot-head grazes.
“Angry Alan,” to be sure, is a good play, not an excellent one. I’m particularly iffy on Skinner’s ending. There’s a powerful visual reveal, and then the drama’s most tender — and, in the case of Krasinski, tenderizing — acting.
But the confluence of climactic events happens way too smoothly, too deliberately, and results in more of a thesis statement about the state of gender and masculinity than a believable, gripping interaction.
It’s OK to be both, however “Angry Alan” skews too far toward the essay side of things. A moment later, the whole shebang is abruptly over with a snap of the fingers, as if a producer offstage is giving a “wrap it up!” signal.
That said, it’s a play that keeps you thinking well after blackout. “Angry Alan” leads to a contemplative audience.
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