Great Moments in New York Theater -- Three Days of Rain

Richard Greenburg, I believe I have mentioned, is one of Pat’s favourite playwright’s. Almost everything that Greenburg writes sits in various places of Pat’s body –his heart, his head, his soul and his tongue. If Pat were to be granted his actor’s wish, I think that it would be to spend a year doing nothing but the works of Lanford Wilson and of Richard Greenburg (though he does love his Arthur Miller and his Jon Robin Baitz). With a love like this of a particular playwright, we (natch) attempt to see all of his plays when they play New York. We’ve missed one or two, due to financial restrictions (well… one of them I refused to see because of universally bad press from members of the press, members of the theater community, members of the theater-going community and people who had brushed up against members of the theater and theater going communities on the subway, in Times Square and the aisles of grocery stores in any borough).

Three Days of Rain was a new play when we went to see it at Manhattan Theatre Club. It was that festive and fabulous thing that happens – when you go to see a play about which you know absolutely nothing; and it’s an evening filled with surprises, wonder and (if you are lucky) great storytelling.

That is exactly what we got when we saw Three Days of Rain.

I can still see the set, still see the images of the three stars of the play, still feel the crisp and cold air of the theater as the mist from the onstage rain rose into the air and freshened our faces and nostrils. Dudes, that is heady shit – when you go to the theater and (usually) only use two of your senses – sight and sound; but that special occasion when you get to use the sense of touch because something from the play is actually that palpable. I remember someone telling me of their experience seeing the musical Sophisticated Ladies and how, when the curtain first opened, the smell of all the delicious perfumes the actresses were wearing wafted out into the audience and he got to use his sense of smell at the theater. Getting to use more than the usual two senses really enhances that theatrical experience. Three Days of Rain gave us that additional level of enjoyment. It was visceral. It was as though we were eavesdropping, peeking into a room into which we were not supposed to look.

And what a sight we saw there.

I have to admit that I had never heard of Patricia Clarkson or Bradley Whitford at this point. I had seen John Slattery in various tv shows over the years but only him. I didn’t know the works of Miss Clarkson or Mr Whitford. Thank GOD they both (well all three of these remarkable actors) became wildly successful in subsequent years and their respective gifts can, now, be enjoyed by the world. Watching the play this day, listening to them recite the poetry given them by Mr Greenburg, witnessing what I can only describe as raw, uncompromising and real emotion, was thrilling. Often when we attend the theater we get to see a good performance; and we go home and say “oh wasn’t that nice”. Now and then, though, we get to see talent that goes beyond the norm, talent that one might call genius (were that word not so overused that it has been reduced in its’ meaning) – and Three Days of Rain was cast in three part genius harmony. THESE are REAL actors. I can’t think of a more eloquent way of saying it. There wasn’t a false moment in the show. They held my rapt attention – my mind did not wander and my eyes did not doze. I was mesmerized and riveted, not to mention emotionally overwrought by the beauty and the tragedy of the story and the people in it. I became instantaneous fans of all three stars, making sure to see all of their work over the years, be it onstage, on a big screen on a tv screen… I love them.

It doesn’t hurt that, during the run of the show, I got the three of them to be in The Sweater Book. They posed, together, as a family of thespians, on the set of Three Days of Rain.

THAT was the frosting.

That made me feel like I was living the life I was meant to live.