Throw a rock around Broadway and you’ll hit someone obsessed with Moss Hart’s 1959 memoir, “Act One,” about his escape from a destitute Bronx childhood through a love for theater.
And what a run Hart had — from Broadway office boy to Catskills entertainer to co-author, with George S. Kaufman, of hits like “The Man Who Came to Dinner,” and director of “My Fair Lady.”
That “Act One” would itself become a play seemed only logical.
The problem is that this Lincoln Center Theater production is probably better for those who haven’t read the book. Fans, on the other hand, may want to throw their well-thumbed copies at James Lapine, who adapted and directed this show.
That is, if they’re still awake.
You can’t fault the likable cast, led by Santino Fontana (“Cinderella”) as the young Hart, while Tony Shalhoub plays him as a middle-aged man reflecting back on his adventures. But splitting the part creates unnecessary distractions, especially since Shalhoub also plays Hart’s father and his co-writer.
He’s highly amusing as the kooky, nitpicking Kaufman, but this doesn’t take us far. And the invaluable Andrea Martin is underused despite handling three (small) roles, including Hart’s eccentric, stage-crazed Aunt Kate.
All this multitasking reflects the show’s busy fussiness and lack of focus. Even Beowulf Boritt’s ginormous tri-level set can’t stand still: It’s on a turntable that’s almost always in motion, forcing the poor actors to jump on and off.
But the worst part is that Lapine misses out on the book’s heart. There’s no sense of the Harts’ crushing poverty, and Moss’ Catskills camp adventures are chucked off in five minutes. Toning down Hart’s struggles makes his meteoric rise seem oddly easy.
And what of Act 2? Here it’s entirely dedicated to Hart and Kaufman rewriting their first show over and over and over.
If you think watching paint dry is boring, try watching two men edit a long-forgotten play.