Talking about ‘Almost Maine;’ remembering Philip Seymour Hoffman

Wine and roses are fine, but the very best way to celebrate a memorable Valentine’s Day is to invite someone you love — or “almost love” to join you at the Gym at Judson (right off Washington Square Park) for a hilarious, wise, bittersweet and altogether unforgettable visit to John Cariani’s “Almost, Maine.”
It seems impossible the original New York debut of the playwright’s exploration of the crazy paths to love — or not — ran for only its scheduled month at the Daryl Roth Theatre in 2006. It has since gone on to become the most produced play in North American high schools, with regional productions at an equal pace. And, via glorious word of mouth, the current Transport Group Theatre Company production has already extended its run even before it’s official opening.
Set in the small remote town of Almost, Maine — an outpost where the Northern Lights are the main attraction and the populace a most hearty breed of wisecracking waitress/bartenders and hard-toiling men — with the latter often stopping by for a beer and a respite from the long winter’s isolation.
Onto the Hudson Gym’s open stage, covered with a dusting of “snow” come a smattering of outsiders in pursuit of the magic of the Northern Lights — but more-so, locals who know each other well — or so they think! The intoxicating humor of Cariani’s “romantic comedy” takes the shape of nine two-character vignettes, where love is the hot plate all the populace are looking for — but most don’t know how to handle their emotions when it arrives. This leads to hilarious complications and a few sad ones. Some of the characters return to find fulfillment — but as many go through wrenching decisions in a small population where now adult young men and women’s lives have been entwined — for better or worse — since childhood. Much of the comic richness of “Almost, Maine” is the way the playwright handles the awakening of love, the shifting of pairings, and a few of the most giddy “situation” sketches imaginable. Some of these even involve strangers to the town in pursuit of a different kind of passion.
One of the earliest of these involves a young woman whose pitched a tent in a young man’s yard “to observe the Northern Lights.” She’s read that “people from Maine are different”— and decided that means they won’t mind if she camps out on their property. The results are gale-producing laughter.

In another, a young man reveals to his long-time companion “ I can’t feel pain,” as she dumps bag of heavy bag of “all the love you gave me” back at him (what a visual work of art!) Now she wants back all the love she gave him. It’s a tiny box, but one of the most moving moments of the evening — sweet and most thought provoking.
The glorious cast of Cariani, Donna Lynne Champlin, Kevin Isola and Kelly McAndrew make these two memorable, quotable hours shine bright as the Northern Lights. Bottom line, Cariani uses wit, whimsy and a philosopher’s wisdom to challenge our notions of what love is and can be. Directed with a sure hand by Jack Cummings III, “Almost, Maine” evokes magic among the snowdrifts, proving the true warmth of relationships lies in the “almost” where budding love — with luck and perseverance — may find its way. (234 Thompson Street, tickets at 866-811-4111 or transportgroup.org)

A tribute to Phillip Seymour Hoffman
“Success isn’t what makes you happy. It really isn’t. Success is doing what makes you happy and doing good work and hopefully having a fruitful life.” The quote is Hoffman’s discussing his craft, but his words capture the independent spirit of a beloved man whose greatest strength as a performer was to breath indelible, memorable life into every role he played. His loss leaves one with an aching sadness that this brilliant, dedicated, beloved actor, whose death at 46 from an overdose of heroin last weekend left his colleagues, family, myriad friends and admirers in saddened shock. How cruel that such a talent, with so much to live for — could not escape his demons.
An “actor’s actor,” a man whose imprint resonated in every role he played. A film and theater star that gave equal weight and attention to “the indies” (independent film and theater) and the Academy Awards (winning best actor for his 2005 turn in “Capote.”) Hoffman was perhaps best loved for making everyone feel he was “one of us.” Theater was his passion As one of his director’s Robert Falls said, learning of the actor’s death: “He brought every fiber of his being to the stage … with a depth of humanity like no other…actor I’ve ever worked with.”
My most lasting memory of Hoffman is the interview I did with him at the 2002 Sarasota Film Festival when he starred in “Love Liza” playing a man living through the aftermath of his wife’s suicide. It turned out he’d taken the role because the film was written by his brother, Gordon, and I’ve never forgotten Hoffman’s appearance in Sarasota to draw attention to his brother’s film. It brought him straight into my pantheon of great, giving human beings — and there he will shine forever.