Theater review: ‘All the Rage’

Theater review: ‘All the Rage’

In his very fine new play, “All the Rage,” Martin Moran continues his exploration of how people are hurt and how they heal.

Moran is a New York actor and author in his early 50s with nice-guy good looks and a gentle demeanor.

He recalls, with a sheepish smile, paying the bills by making dopey clip-clop sounds with coconut shells on Broadway in “Spamalot.”

But his life isn’t just about funny business. Anything but.

In 2004, in his autobiographical show, “The Tricky Part,” he recalled being sexually abused as a boy by a camp counselor.

“All the Rage,” in a way, is a sequel to the earlier work. The new play affirms Moran’s stature as an endearing and entertaining writer and storyteller.

Dressed in preppy striped shirt and plain pants, he begins the show with a few niceties, and by saying, “I’m dying to share a dream.”

Before he does, he takes a detour. It’s one of several hops across time and space during the show’s 80 minutes.

His tale leaps to Las Vegas, where he’s at his father’s funeral. He’s about to let his stepmother, a woman he’s despised for decades (whom he describes in hilarious detail), really have it.

And then, in a blink, the narrative darts to Manhattan.

Dissatisfied, or maybe in what he calls a “midlife meltdown,” Moran is on a search for meaning. This leads him, after various dead ends, to becoming a translator for a young African man who is a torture victim now seeking asylum in America.

Getting on after being victimized. Forgiving something unforgivable. The threads of parallel lives start to emerge and eventually tie together.

As he relates the story, Moran relies on a globe, maps and an old-school opaque projector, like an eager-beaver teacher trying to keep everyone in the audience on the same page.

If the story seems all over the map, the carefully charted circuitous route is one of the strengths of the piece. All roads lead eventually to the destination of that dream Moran was aching to share. It has to do with survival and the significance of anger and forgiveness toward that end.

Under the direction of Seth Barrish, Moran moves his 80-minute odyssey seamlessly. It’s always entertaining and often affecting.

At various points he engages the audience. It’s as though we’re his close intimates and it really matters to him that we get him. We do.