Theater: Samuel J. Friedman / 261 West 47th Street, New York, NY,
Synopsis:
David Hyde Pierce stars as a playwright who finds his muse is being inspired by another man. The muse of a successful older playwright finds love with a man closer to her age.
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April 30, 2009: Age has not exactly withered “Accent on Youth,” a 1934 comedy by Samson Raphaelson about the storms besetting a May-December romance in the theater world. But it has not done this personable but minor play any great favors either.
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Older man. Younger woman. Boy, have playwrights been here before. Yet it's amazing how much mileage playwright Samson Raphaelson got out of this well-worn plot device in "Accent on Youth," a mild comedy of manners initially seen on Broadway in 1934.
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"Accent on Youth" is a 75-year-old play, and with its new Broadway revival it looks every bit its age. This mild drawing-room comedy by Samson Raphaelson -- better known for such efforts as "The Jazz Singer" (it was a play before it was the 1927 movie) and the screenplays for "Trouble in Paradise" and "The Shop Around the Corner" -- feels like a bottle of champagne that's long lost its fizz.
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"I'm 50," explained Jack Donaghy on a recent "30 Rock." "To put it in perspective, that's like 32 for ladies." The mating game has changed considerably since 1934, and silver foxes with trophy wives half their age have become almost commonplace. That makes the dilemma of Samson Raphaelson's "Accent on Youth" -- a sophisticated 53-year-old playwright dithering over romance with his 26-year-old secretary -- somewhat obsolete. Daniel Sullivan's spiffy production and David Hyde Pierce's effortless timing make the antiquated comedy tick by painlessly enough, but there's not much substance beneath its mild charms.
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What’s it like attending “Accent on Youth”? Well, the posh Manhattan apartment set design and Depression-era costumes are pretty. The cast is pretty charming. Some witty dialogue occasionally pops up. But it’s hard to not feel underwhelmed and bored by the Manhattan Theater Club’s well-meant but unnecessary and uninspired revival of what feels like a third-rate Noel Coward play.
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