Watching A.R. Gurney’s new play is like soaking in a warm, soothing nostalgia bath for an hour and a half. Ah, for the days when theater stars were larger-than-life household names, Gurney seems to sigh.
And they didn’t need television or the movies, either: They could be famous across the country simply by sticking to the stage.
The starting point of “The Grand Manner,” which opened last night at Lincoln Center, is the real-life meeting between the young Gurney (Bobby Steggert, in full shy-winsome mode) and stage legend Katharine Cornell (Kate Burton) in February 1948. At the time, Cornell was in Shakespeare’s “Antony and Cleopatra” on Broadway, and one night she signed Gurney’s program.
The play incorporates many real-life details. Some are minute, like Charlton Heston being an extra in Cornell’s show; others more substantial, like the actress’ open marriage to gay director Guthrie McClintic (Boyd Gaines) and her relationship with general manager Gertrude Macy (Brenda Wehle, a dead ringer for Agnes Moorehead).
But “The Grand Manner” isn’t so much recollection as fantasy.
The actual encounter was brief, so Gurney dreamed up a scenario in which the actress was so delighted by her besotted visitor that she kept him around for a while, even confiding in him.
Gurney extrapolates way too much — it’s highly unlikely that Cornell would have referred to herself as “a slightly dumpy, middle-aged lesbian,” especially in front of a stranger. And Burton, though very likable, doesn’t quite project the charisma and supernova wattage Cornell was supposed to have. (Cornell mostly shunned movies and TV, so we have to trust contemporary reports.)
Unobtrusively directed by Mark Lamos, “The Grand Manner” works best as a love letter to the theater, zeroing in on the moment when it ceded its myth-making power to the screen. Gurney also points out that icons could become imprisoned by their own image and style, and that marriages come in various shapes and forms — despite having lovers, Cornell and McClintic were bound by an enduring, genuine affection.
Of course, Gurney writes with the benefit of hindsight, and his characters’ self-awareness tests credibility. Yet he still elicits sympathy, because his play isn’t about Katharine Cornell — but for her.