At the American Airlines Theater, produced by Roundabout. The production came from The Menier Chocolate Factory in London. The actors are a mix of Brits and Americans; several of the Americans had a bit of trouble keeping up their accents (Russian that did not sound like any Russians I know; Romanian/French that sounded like I don't know what). But that's a quibble.
Lenin and his wife Nadya, James Joyce, Tristan Tzara, Gwendolyn Fairfax, Cecily Cardew, Henry Carr, Bennett the, um, butler. Zurich, 1917. Or perhaps not.
This is the fifth or sixth time we've seen the play. First time was a matinee, the second performance, the day after it first opened in London. Most have been very good to excellent; one had a very unfortunate directorial touch that ruined the production for us. This one is excellent; additions fit and work to advance the plot, such as it is, and the ideas, which are many and brilliant: What is art? Who is an artist? Should socialism win? Eating as usual, Algy?
Runs through June 26.