I had an interesting experience with Living On Love. The running time was variously listed as two hours or two hours and fifteen minutes. In fact, it was quite a bit shorter, which has never happened before. Productions very often do run longer than the stated time. This led me to wonder if the play had been severely cut in an effort to make it more palatable. Sadly, as it is, this is pretty much a dud; a comedy that’s not funny is not long for this world, and I’m curious to see if the run will actually reach the stated closing date.
However, opera aficionados should flock to see the glorious Renee Fleming in her Broadway debut, doing a very credible job of playing a diva, and yes, even singing a few bars here and there. The action takes place in a Manhattan penthouse, in the spring of 1957 (no reason why this should have been set at that time, but there it is). Fleming is a Diva - and in fact, she insists on being called by this title - down on her luck, touring the provinces. She looks stunning dripping in diamonds and beautifully dressed in royal blue, carrying a docile little Pomeranian clutched to her chest. Fleming handles comedy quite capably; would that the lines she speaks had a lot more humor.
She lives in an impressive apartment, replete with her photos. On one wall is a collection of snow globes, which she and her husband bring each other as souvenirs of their travels. He is The Maestro, presented with proper panache by Douglas Sills, who manages to ring every laugh possible out of the audience. He’s broke, and needs a ghostwriter to pen his autobiography, or he’ll forfeit the advance he’s already spent. Unfortunately, he’s so impossibly conceited and so dismissive, he doesn’t even bother showing up for his interviews. Writer after writer - including Truman Capote - have quit, leaving only the lowest of scribes to shoulder the task.
Jerry O’Connell seems uncomfortable on stage, a condition which extends beyond the discomfort of his character. He’s enamored of the Diva, and forms a relationship with a young editor, played by a nearly unrecognizable Anna Chlumsky, who sports a black wig and a chirpy attitude. Predictably, the Diva and the Maestro pretend to fall for their younger admirers to make each other jealous.
By and large, this is a worthy cast, including two servants with admirable voices. It’s too bad that this play isn’t a better showcase, but I have every confidence that all these players will go on to much superior projects.
