A Sweet Rom-Com Without Much Depth – front mezz junkies, Theater News

The Broadway Theatre Review: Left on Tenth

By Ross

“If only we could control life.” This is one of the first simple yearnings presented by our lead character in Delia Ephron’s autobiographical play, Left on Tenth, now unspooling at the James Earl Jones Theatre on Broadway. It’s a tender feeling most people have, and one that resonates during the first few moments of this syrupy sweet romantic comedy getting its full star treatment. Based on Delia’s bestselling 2022 memoir of the same name, it opens with a clever construct; on hold and forever getting nowhere with Verizon. It’s a feeling I think almost everyone in that Broadway house can relate to. And similarly, this play never really finds its way to connect in the real world, or at least with a solidly authentic emotionality beyond the surface level.

Delia Ephron is the writer-sister of Nora Ephron, and together they created some pretty touching romantic comedies such as You’ve Got Mail and Sleepless in Seattle. Both films, when sick in bed, take me away to some enchanted place where love conquers all, aligning the stars so that all the mistakes and complications that can happen between two people who seem destined for each other just disappear, or become completely unimportant. The lovers-to-be each have problematic qualities, most of which we can relate to, but, over the course of these films, the characters see past them, and find the love they are sometimes secretly hoping for or desiring all along.

These two films, and a few others, have always lulled me into a sweet space where I can forget about my cold symptoms and drift off happily into a peaceful sleep once the credits roll. No matter how many times I have watched them. In a way, Left on Tenth, clocking in at a quick 1 hr 40 min (no intermission), did something similar to me. It made me want to drift off into a sweet gentle cloud of warmth and kindness, but unfortunately, it was not after or even later that night. It was during, and it wasn’t sleepiness or boredom that made me feel that way. It was something else, similar to a form of disconnection but not quite disinterest, mainly because the pull was never enough to fully engage in. Everyone was just too nice for me to be worried or concerned, if that makes sense.

This true story play “about second chances in life & love” starts out solidly, although somewhat casually, talking about how death has become her forever dancing companion in the Greenwich Village apartment that is easily found, just Left on Tenth. Almost too cute, right? She, our heroine, played compassionately by Julianna Margulies (Broadway’s Festen; TV’s “ER“, “The Morning Show“), is coming to terms with the death of her sister and the recent death of her husband, and learning how to tap dance through life alone in her book-filled apartment. It’s impossible not to feel for this woman as she tries to grin and bear it, with kindly neighbors and devoted friends stopping by with delicious donuts and caring insights throughout the day.

She shares with us directly, much like she does with her friends and medical practitioners, played impressively by two very flexible actors; Peter Francis James (Broadway’s Hillary and Clinton) and Kate MacCluggage (LCT’s Greater Clements), each with a character list far too long to relate, and the feeling she emulates with them and us is forever warm, yet somehow verging on the simplistic. Then a shift occurs, one of many, when an old flame, Peter, portrayed like a saint in shining armor by Peter Gallagher (Broadway’s Guys and Dolls; On the Twentieth Century), sends her an email, reintroducing himself and reminds her of the time he was introduced to her by Delia’s sister and they went on a few dates, back in the day.

Delia doesn’t quite remember, but Peter does, and so begins a courtship, via email, as well played out as possible, given the structure, using solidly formulated projections by Jeanette Oi-Suk Yew (Broadway’s Macbeth) on a well-conceived revolving set by Beowulf Boritt (Broadway’s Our Town) with straightforward lighting by Ken Billington (Broadway’s New York, New York) and Itohan Edoloyi (Shed’s Volvo Truck) and a solidly constructed sound design by Jill Bc Du Boff (Broadway’s Mother Play). There is nothing really groundbreaking about this sweet courtship, beyond its cuteness and genuinely felt asides with friends, even when it borders on syrupy. And it does, quite often, especially in regard to Peter’s one almost fatal flaw, he carries a backpack that he throws around with utter abandonment. But somehow, and I don’t exactly know how, Delia gets over it, and they move forward with lightning speed.

That is until another twist enters the room, or should I say sends her to a different type other than the many hotel rooms the two find themselves canoodling in. This time it’s a hospital bed in the oncology ward of a Manhattan hospital, and the diagnosis is not good. It’s the same disease that killed her sister in 2012, and one she has been paying close attention to for years, getting regularly scheduled routine bone marrow checkups to keep in check her anxiety. Yet, as dutifully directed by Susan Stroman (Broadway’s POTUS), the reframing isn’t as big of a shift as one might expect as it continues to play almost too cute for words.

This dynamic turn of events, although sad on a superficial level, never seems to really hit all that hard within this play. Peter rises majestically to the occasion, staying by her side constantly and helping her get through this with a shining optimism even in the few darkly scripted moments when the disease seems to be winning. Fear and hope do battle in that room, and yet the play doesn’t really have any personality obstacles other than leukemia, which is an odd thing to say. Dressed in accurate and appealing costumes by Jeff Mahshie (Broadway’s Kiss Me Kate), the people that gather around her are all lovely, warm, and endlessly caring, in totality, and without a hiccup in the horizon, the whole adventure is more Lifetime than uplifting. We care, mainly because of the tender performances delivered by this cast of four, but it never really finds internal connection, nor enough emotional power to leave us with anything but the same reaction we have when a cute dog trots onto the stage wagging its tail.