The Big Knife
I’m not exactly sure what I think of The Big Knife, the Clifford Odets play that opened at Roundabout’s
American Airlines Theatre last night. It’s interesting and boasts some stand
out elements, but it’s not gripping. It’s not ferociously engaging the way this
tale of Hollywood intrigue ought to be.
Set in 1948, the play focuses on Charlie Castle (Bobby
Cannavale), an actor who came to Hollywood (under the studio contract system,
mind you) and became a movie star. His wife, Marion (Marin Ireland), is estranged
but his agent, Nat (Chip Zien), and his assistant/friend, Buddy (Joey Slotnick),
are never far away. Neither is studio head Marcus Hoff (Richard Kind) and his
right-hand man, Smiley Coy (Reg Rogers).
At rise, Charlie must decide whether or not to sign a new,
14-year contract with Hoff’s studio. Marion, with whom Charlie wants to
reconcile, despite his wandering eye, is dead-set against it. Complicating
matters is a tragic secret from Charlie’s past that comes back to haunt him,
compliments of the young Dixie Evans (Rachel Brosnahan), who, despite having
been given hush money, is starting to talk.
It seems exciting and lurid, doesn’t it? Just the kind of
thing to grip our attention. It’s like some super sensationalized,
ripped-from-the-tabloids tale that, when turned into a movie of the week, would
fit happily on Bravo. Or, with Odets’s loftier writing, maybe one of the
premium cable channels. But it isn’t.
Directed by Doug Hughes (TheWhipping Man), the play drags here and there, and entire character’s storylines
could easily be cut and nothing would be missed. To its credit, act three is
pulpier and more aggressive, but the ending is predictable and too easy, much
like in the other Odets drama revived this season, Golden Boy. (The play is three acts, with an intermission between
acts two and three.)



Flaws and all, the melodramatic The Big Knife is an interesting look at a particular era in
Hollywood and the players who lived it. Moreover, despite being a look back and
though the specifics may have changed, the themes—the true cost of fame and
the power struggles that abound—are still relevant today. I just wish we
could have gotten around to those themes a little quicker.
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