Review: ‘The Minutes’

With only a few previews under its belt, The Minutes was halted due to the Covid-19 pandemic in March of 2020. (How many times have you heard that phrase this season?) Over two years later, Tracy Letts’ hilariously terrifying play opened Sunday night at Studio 54. And it is remarkable!

The play occurs at a city council meeting for the small town of Big Cherry, with all but one of its members regrouping after last week’s meeting. The talkative, bright-eyed Mr. Peel was absent from the previous assembly due to his mother’s funeral. The other members are reluctant to explain the whereabouts of Mr. Carp, who appears to have abruptly vacated his seat.

The Minutes opens with a light-hearted comedy, satirizing the various archetypes of American politicians: the traditionalist, the self-righteous, the indifferent, the overachieving, and the powerful. Letts’ ingenious wordplay is top-notch here. These well crafted characters are unapologetically quirky and original, each with a distinct vision of what they desire out of the meeting: Mr. Oldfied’s (Austin Pendleton) not-so-subtle request for an newly available parking spot, Mr. Hanratty’s (Danny McCarthy) passionate yet expensive proposal for increased disability accommodations at the town’s signature foundation, and Mr. Blake’s (K. Todd Freeman) town fundraiser “Lincoln’s Smackdown”. In one exceptionally whacky scene, narrated by Mayor Superba (Tracy Letts), the council reenacts the town’s historic founding; an alleged battle against “the savages”. All the while, an agitated Mr. Peel obsesses over hearing “the minutes” (A.K.A. the clerk’s notational rundown) from last week’s meeting in hope of learning the status of Mr. Carp.

Letts proves to be a master at penning the small-town tragicomedy (further evidenced by his 2008 Tony-winning August: Osage County.) About halfway through The Minutes, the laughter halts for the remainder of the performance. A majority ruling vote, which does not pass without great hesitation from the stiff Mr. Assalone (Jeff Still) and the dominant Mr. Breeding (Cliff Chamberlain), ensues the lengthy minutes be read aloud, delivered out-of-breath by Ms. Johnson (Jessie Mueller). As the events of last week are pieced together, a tension fills the atmosphere, including a restaging of the past meeting as Mr. Peel watches from the present.

Noah Reid, known as the heartthrob from TV comedy “Schitt’s Creek”, makes his deserved Broadway debut with a robust performance as Mr. Peel. Reid is a natural onstage, perfectly fit among veterans Mueller (in her Broadway play debut), Pendleton, Blair Brown, and writer-actor Letts himself. Pendleton and Brown are especially amusing as the bickering old-time councilmembers, Ms. Innes and Mr. Oldfield respectively. Their comedic timing is seamlessly executed, never once chewing the scenery to steal a cheap laugh. McCarthy also gives a notably excellent performance as the sympathetic Mr. Hanratty, one of the only council members who’s there to fulfill a civic duty.

David Zinn’s stark town hall feels all too recognizable, prompting my theatre date to turn to me and say, “I’ve been to this meeting before.” It’s a portrait of American politics. Supplied by prop master Larry Jennino, briefcases of notes, hand sanitizer pumps, and a well-stocked coffee station further establish a supposed devotion to realism. Lighting designer Brian MacDevitt and sound designer Andrés Pluess collaborate to provide thunderous lightning bolts, underscoring the growing friction inside the town hall.

The mere 90-minute play concludes in a sudden tonal shift that may be off-putting for some, but those who caught on early to Letts’ sinister foreshadowing will be weirdly satisfied. It’s a shocking display of brutal irony. Quite a departure from the realism that we were forced inside of, but one that reveals the true identity of the council and where their allegiance actually lies.

Every word in Letts’ script exists for a reason. The history of Big Cherry is put on trial, with language taking the stand. Concealed under the façade of farce and witty banter, The Minutes is an examination of how the passing of stories affects our perception of reality. In our current world, plagued by misinformation spread through social media and a political atmosphere so polarized that another Civil War feels possible, truth certainly is in the eye of the beholder. Opinions are protected, rather than facts. The play asks, how will a group of middle-aged, older white folk (and their singular, tokenized Black peer) respond when faced with information that challenges their version of Big Cherry’s history? Do the “truths” we tell ourselves actually align with fact or do they uphold a fantasy where the “hero” casts both hero and villain?

Review: ‘To My Girls’