The New York Times

Theater Review; Blue Notes, Plenty of Them, for A Jazzman
By Peter Marks

Among the many wonderful moments in "Side Man," Warren Leight's lovely, eye-opening new memory play about a jazz trumpeter, his alcoholic wife and the son who is parent to them both, is a moving second-act tableau that tells you all you need to know about what goes on between a man and his music.

Three musicians, played by Frank Wood, Michael Mastro and Joseph Lyle Taylor, sit around a cassette player listening to the tape of a fervent, wrenching trumpet solo. The jazz man on the tape is dead, but his instrument remains feverishly alive, a fact confirmed in the ecstatic faces of the three actors.

To his credit, the director, Michael Mayer, fresh from his critically applauded staging of "A View From the Bridge," lets the tape play and play. It goes on long enough for a mood to be established and a gap to be filled, for ultimately the scene identifies the sad isolation of the father, played with an eerie emotional blankness by Mr. Wood. He is a man for whom life makes sense only in the configurations of those notes, for whom nothing can be as vivid as the reflections in the polished brass of his adored horn.

"Side Man," which opened last night at the CSC Theater, is both heartbreaking and touching, a play of true feeling, full of affection for its characters and insight about the events it conjures. The Leight touch, it seems, is a light touch. Free of the soggy lyricism that can bog down a play of this nature, "Side Man" recounts the story of a broken family in plain, wry terms. One of the grandest things about it is that when it's over, you look for heroes and villains, and discover only people.

Mr. Mayer displays a superb eye and ear for the deteriorating worlds of "Side Man." Set in 1953 to 1985, the play explores the decline of the journeymen jazz players whose music was gradually being drowned out by the urgent noise of early rock. It also tracks the breakdown through booze and neglect of a middle-class marriage, beginning with the magnetic pull of courtship and advancing to the baggage-laden stage of a terminal union, when recriminations collect and love is gone.

The psychological clutter is mirrored in Neil Patel's evocative suggestion of the couple's dingy Manhattan apartment. As the relationship between Gene (Mr. Wood) and his high-strung wife Terry (Edie Falco, in an impressive stage debut) grows increasingly debris-strewn over the years, so does their house, until at last it takes on the appearance of an indoor Dumpster.

As the title suggests, however, Mr. Leight is most keenly preoccupied with the man of the house. In jazz terms, a side man is a paragon of dependability, a player in a band who can blend in or stand out, play backup or solo, according to what is required. Of course, when Gene gets home, he's anything but dependable to Terry or their son, Clifford (the appealing Robert Sella). Gene is so wrapped up in his horn he can barely remember to eat, let alone take his wife out for dinner occasionally or notice that the brand of liquor she has been guzzling has changed.

He is not a monster, however, and Terry, though shrill and self- pitying, is no Amanda Wingfield; she doesn't drive the gentleman away. Gene simply should never have been dragged into marriage. The disturbing truth is brought achingly home when an adult Clifford visits Gene in a run-down jazz club after years of estrangement. He comes with a request for the older man to play his mother's favorite song, the standard "Why Was I Born?" When Clifford asks, "Dad, why was I born?" it becomes a child's heart-rending plea for a requited love.

"Side Man" is filled with such subtly rendered, telling exchanges. Narrated by Clifford on the occasion of the surprise visit, the reunion triggers memories of a chaotic childhood. It also summons the chummy breed of musicians who share Gene's world, brass players perched precariously between art and unemployment, like Jonesy (Kevin Geer), the heroin addict; Ziggie (Mr. Mastro), the nerd, and Al (Mr. Taylor), the ladies' man in a cheap toupee. Rounding out the gang is Patsy (Angelica Torn), a blowzy waitress who ends up in bed with most of them.

Mr. Mayer guides his players seamlessly, allowing Mr. Leight's themes to take shape and the play to build to its payoff without resorting to actor-y fireworks.

But it is the performances of the three members of the family triangle that form the play's core, and all grow in complexity as the story progresses. Mr. Wood, for instance, makes almost no impression for the longest time; even in the sweet scene in which he woos the young Terry with a jazzy rendition of "Afternoon of a Faun," he's a weightless presence. By the second act, the method in his blandness becomes clear. Gene really is as ethereal as his music, as impossible to grab hold of as an improvised riff.

As Terry, the angry, earthy flip side of Gene, Ms. Falco is sharp, funny and able to keep the frustrated housewife's rants from seeming cartoonish. Mr. Sella has the hardest job; as is sometimes the case in memory plays, the character doing the recollecting can be the toughest for an actor to pin down. Still, he makes the transitions from peacemaking 10-year-old to detached adult look easy.

The play may trace the unraveling of relationships, careers and psyches. But Mr. Leight's handiwork demonstrates that even with the foundations of their world crumbling around them, the characters of "Side Man" can make beautiful music together.

SIDE MAN

By Warren Leight; directed by Michael Mayer; sets by Neil Patel; costumes by Tom Broecker; lighting by Kenneth Posner; sound by Ray Schilke; production stage manager, Andrea J. Testani; associate producer, Jack O'Connor. Presented by Weissberger Theater Group; Jay Harris, producer, and Peter Manning. CSC, 136 East 13th Street, East Village.

WITH: Robert Sella (Clifford), Edie Falco (Terry), Angelica Torn (Patsy), Frank Wood (Gene), Joseph Lyle Taylor (Al), Michael Mastro (Ziggy) and Kevin Gerr (Jonesy).