Brooklyn Laundry Off-Broadway Reviews

Someday, I suspect some arts organization will put on a festival of works by John Patrick Shanley that focuses on his penchant for unlikely couples, which will include his landmark first play “Danny and the Deep Blue Sea,” his Broadway outing “Outside Mullingar” and the Oscar-winning film “Moonstruck.” Now, another play can be added to this repertoire, “Brooklyn Laundry,” currently getting its world premiere at Manhattan Theatre Club at NY City Center Stage 1. But whoever that festival producer turns out to be, they may want to ask Shanley to expand this engaging, 75-minute work to give more background and substance to its main female character.

It’s not often that you leave a play wanting more. But that’s exactly the case with the new romantic dramedy by John Patrick Shanley receiving its world premiere at Manhattan Theatre Club. Depicting the rocky courtship of two damaged souls grasping for what they perceive may be a final chance at love, Brooklyn Laundry proves as frustrating as it is charming. But Shanley — who’s proven his expertise at off-kilter rom-coms with such past efforts as Danny and the Deep Blue Sea, Outside Mullingar, and the screenplay for Moonstruck — delivers the memorable characterizations and witty dialogue we’ve come to expect, and the romantic chemistry of leads David Zayas and Cecily Strong is off the charts.

Cecily Strong brings star power to this handsome production (scenic designer Santo Loquasto has gone all out, filling the Manhattan Theatre Club’s revolving stage with no fewer than four highly detailed, distinctive setlets). Strong seems oddly miscast, though, as Fran, a 37-year-old office drone whom the 50-ish laundromat manager/owner Owen (David Zayas) immediately pegs as “gloomy.”

Laura Collins-Hughes, The New York Times: I wonder what “Brooklyn Laundry” might have become if Shanley hadn’t staged it himself — if there had been a director to push him where text needs strengthening; to find a tone that breathes life into Fran’s one scene with Trish; to steer away from visual grimness in design rather than, with the exception of the restaurant scene, straight into it. That, however, is not on the menu.

Unfortunately, Shanley doesn’t offer more for Fran to do or feel. She listens, she responds, indulging in a staunch placation that is given little justification. Fran’s response and the supposed happy ending of their relationship feels more like a man’s fantasy than anything gripped in honesty. “I’m nothing but real,” Fran tells Own during their play’s final encounter. “No pretty lights.” If only that were true.