That three Parisians are discussing a purchase price in dollars doesn’t
make sense.
In this revival of ART, Serge, a native Frenchman, says he’s paid
$300,000 for a painting when the figure he should be using is
253,000 Euros.
That’s it’s French equivalent today, and quite a markup from the
price cited in the 1998 Broadway production of Yazmina Reza’s Tony-
winning play. Back then, Serge says that he spent 200,000 francs on
the artwork – tantamount to $40,000 then and almost $80,000 now.
Well, everything goes up, doesn’t it? Such as the $45 that original
production asked for a very good orchestra seat to see Alan Alda,
Victor Garber and Alfred Molina. Since then, “premium seats” have
become a Broadway standard, so now sitting in that same spot to
see Bobby Cannavale, Neil Patrick Harris and James Corden can be as
high as $571.
For that much money, you shouldn’t be misled. But Scott Ellis’
production confuses in one of the show’s early scenes.
First, though, Marc (Cannavale) directly address the audience and
reports that “My friend Serge has bought a painting. It’s a canvas
five-foot-by four: white.”
That much the audience does understand. Why would anyone spend
substantial money for a painting that could pass for a blank canvas?
But in a subsequent scene, we finally see the painting. Neil Patrick
Harris is standing there, seeming to assess it as Cannavale looks on.
Harris is silent and just staring as the audience laughs. They know
what he’s thinking: “$300,000 for this?” Or, as the famous cliché
goes, “My kid could paint that.”

Harris finally turns around and looks befuddled. He slowly extends
both his hands out to Cannavale in a What-is-there-to-say gesture.
It’s far afield from Reza’s actual stage direction – that Serge is
“admiring it and clearly delighted to be its owner.”
Yes, Harris is playing the painting’s owner, but you’d never know it
from the way that Ellis has directed him. You’d assume that he’s the
third friend who’s come to see the painting and is questioning its
worth.
Ellis soon gets ART back on track. When third friend Yvan finally
arrives and gets a look at the painting that Marc has warned him
about, he does the best he can in being supportive of his pal’s
purchase. He says “Yes” so many times that he rivals Molly Bloom’s
exclamations in ULYSSES.
That of course pleases Serge, but Marc ain’t buyin’ it. He’s already
compared the white painting to a brown substance not usually
mentioned in polite company.
Matters wouldn’t be too bad if the friends limited their observations
and criticisms to the painting. ART shows that a painting can serve as
a powerful catalyst that leads the three inexorably towards damaging
damnations of each other. In the remainder of the 120 minutes
comes the deluge of resentments and low opinions they’ve kept to
themselves during their 15-year friendship.
Or should there be quotation marks around the word “friendship”?
This one certainly isn’t the perfect blendship.
Parents will tell you that two kids getting together will get along fine,
but bring in a third, and it’s suddenly two-against-one. These men
are ostensibly adults, but, to paraphrase a lyric from FUNNY GIRL,
they’re children not needing other children. Note, too, that when two
of them are alone, it’s a perfect time to slander the absent and
unknowing third.
In the original production, only Alfred Molina received a Tony
nomination and in fact won the Drama Desk Award. History may well

repeat itself, because Yvan is the most showy role and Corden is
marvelous in it. When he laughs, he’s able to make a sound that
suggests that his lungs have suddenly been filled with helium. What
he also can do is master a monologue of mammoth proportions,
where he’s furious at all the problems that his upcoming wedding has
thrown into his lap and head. (At the September 15 th performance, he
may have set a Broadway record in getting some people to give a
standing ovation to a monologue.)
Is Cannavale not 100% healthy? His voice sounds as if he’s been
gargling with razor blades. Still, his characterization is solid, although
his evil look reveals that he’s not sincere when he says, “From now
on, I’m on my best behavior.” (Reza thinks he should be.)
Harris certainly wishes that Marc were sincere. Physically, he’s the
slightest of the three, but he’s as strong as they when defending
himself. There’s more defending that occurs, which is why two fight
directors are listed on the Playbill.
So, we have a play that shows in a completely different way how art
is powerful; in this case, it can make them reveal what’s on their
minds for better or for worse. The painting is mightier than the
sword.