N/A
Let’s be honest – the last thing anyone wants to think about right now is a debate. Following the Joe Biden/Donald Trump faceoff and the seemingly endless analysis and agonizing that has followed, the thought of trudging through the heat to Lincoln Center to watch a political two-hander was not exactly exciting.
I’m happy to report that N/A, the new play by Mario Correa in performances at Lincoln Center’s Mitzi Newhouse Theater is far more entertaining than the CNN faceoff. Directed by Diane Paulus, the play depicts N (Nancy Pelosi) and A (Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez) through a series of behind-the-scene conversations in Washington DC. Beginning with the 2018 midterms, and Ocasio-Cortez’s surprise victory, we first meet A livestreaming from N’s office. “So, yeah, we are not in Kansas anymore,” she humbly tells her followers before N surprises her.
The ensuing conversations are awkward, a parry and thrust between two decidedly different politicians with decidedly different views of leadership and progress. N, played by Holland Taylor, is a 31-year veteran of Congress and takes a pragmatic approach to legislation, willing to compromise to accomplish.
A, on the other hand, possesses lofty ideals and a hunger to change the established systems and processes. Her refusal to compromise for the sake of the party and to obtain the necessary 218 votes to pass anything both baffles and infuriates N. When A passionately states, “It’s the job of our leaders to lead,” N responds, “Not over the cliff, it isn’t.” N still believes in the system, while A unapologetically speaks of its flaws. (This critic does not recommend a drinking game marking every time N says, “Do the work.”
Little is mentioned of either woman’s personal life, aside from a phone call, which is mined for laughs as N assures one of her ten grandchildren that the Eleanor Roosevelt Barbie is supposed to be tall and does not need to fit in a toy car because, “she is driven.” But the characters feel as developed as they can, thanks to the strength of the actors playing them. Taylor, who has played strong older women in Legally Blonde and Ann, to name a few, embodies Pelosi’s steely drive while landing every punchline in the script - and there are many, like when, assuming a maternal stance, she asks A, “Do I need to confiscate your phone?”
Villafañe is so convincing as Ocasio-Cortez, capturing her cadence and pitch, it’s uncanny. Her seemingly endless energy and righteous indignation are refreshing to watch, and in her more vulnerable moments, her steely determination and ability to survive, shine through beautifully. Myung Hee Cho’s deliberately bland set of clear plastic office furniture on a shabby carpet offer no distractions from the women, nor do Cho’s costumes – a sensible skirt suit for Pelosi and AOC’s trademark dark pants suit (or, as N calls them, “trousers”.)
Mextly Couzin’s lighting establishes the standard sterile office atmosphere, and sound designers Sun Hee Kil and Germán Martínez provide cuts between scenes or moments within a scene. Projections, by Possible and Risa Renkel, indicate the passing of time, shifts in power, and, finally, the terror of January 6.
Described as a “battle of wills – and wits,” N/A does not entirely deliver, as the play’s favor of N is evident from the first scene. The classic, and inevitable conflicts – the younger generation vs the older, the internet vs real world, moral leadership vs pragmatic leadership – are entertaining at first but grow repetitive, even during the play’s brisk 80 minutes. N frequently utilizes metaphors, while A speaks of lofty ideals. Nothing particularly groundbreaking is said, and, knowing this conflict and many others are continuing outside the theater walls, the play’s ending feels inconclusive. It’s a good play, but, like most bills that actually make it out of Congress and to the President’s desk, we wish it was even better.