Talk Radio

Longacre Theater

I don't think I would recognize Liev Schreiber on the street, but he is easy to identify on the stage. He commands your attention, not obviously, but in the way he fully inhabits the character he is playing. He actually climbs into the skin of his character like an extraordinary chameleon.

In Talk Radio, the question that keeps coming up as an audience member is, "Why do these people keep calling into this radio show?" There is a good chance they will be cut off, yelled at, ridiculed or made a fool of. Years of listening to Barry Champlain (Schreiber) should have taught them this.

I don't think they call in to be the exception to the rule. The one person who will be loved and listened to by Champlain with respect and dignity. I think they call in because of the human need to confess. They not only confess--they usually go farther than they intended, revealing even deeper confessions while they are on the air. These people need to set free some dark parts of themselves into the greater world and Talk Radio is their router.

As the confession taker, Champlain is given only a limited side to humanity. He is almost a garbage dump for people to drive up to and let loose those things they no longer need or want to carry around with them. Eventually even a dump will overfill and so does Champlain. He overfills and melts down.

He doesn't lose his temper and rage about the stage. This is not an overworked meltdown and Schreiber brings you through a tempered meltdown on the air (where else?) where Barry ends up hating those he serves, finally crossing the line he has been toeing for so long, and really confessing his own failures on the air to his listeners. We are left to wonder if they will still call back after a final tirade at the end of his show. Sadly, something tells me that if he shows up the next night they might, too.

This is an excellent opportunity to see Liev Schreiber at what he does best. He does not take the opportunity to be better than the play, although he might be. He is like the last jigsaw puzzle piece, quietly and fittingly snapping into place on the stage, fully belonging and completing a picture. You can't go wrong if you want to see some great acting.

It did become claustrophobic, though. This aspect is enforced by the play being performed in one act, no set change and Marc Wendland's fitting gray set as far as the eye can see. In this setting, a slow intensity builds on the stage. A meltdown could have happened by anyone by the end. There is a degree of crazy in the setting. Bookended by two other talk radio show hosts, you realize that talk radio serves as more than a confessional and that shock radio isn't the only way to go. Imus nor Stern were not the first to go there. Pushing people on all of their limits and boundaries is an old art, indeed. However, in this play you begin to think that this show is the only thing going on in the world indeed.

Given the chance, go. If this fits into your budget and you like plays it's a professional experience that might stick with you longer than you expect. It won't change your life, but it will raise your standards for every actor and actress around town. I should also mention that it was surprisingly funny. It's not nearly as dire or intense as it sounds. Comic relief happened about once every two minutes. Go and enjoy!