Review: 'November' by David Mamet

Take away the gleeful dirty talk and sneak a peak under the exuberantly shameless scams and ... or, on second thought, don't do that.

Without the cavalcade of forbidden words and a lingering hope of subversive surprise, there is almost nothing that would identify "November" as the work of David Mamet.

Mamet, whose script for "Wag the Dog" may be the most prescient piece of politically subversive comedy to ever make it to the screen, takes the lazy way out with the election-year sitcom that opened last night at the Barrymore Theatre, starring Nathan Lane as a lowlife losing president called Chuck.

Instead of wit and fury, we get gags and grimaces. Instead of humor so daring that critics have been known to bite their own lips to maintain decorum, the comedy is so eager-to-please that we strain to hear Mamet's voice beyond the punch lines.

Oh, there is plenty of noisy impertinence and throwaway bits of pertinence in the hyperextended sketch about a failing incumbent. But mostly, this is a commercial Broadway fluff ball disguised as a tough-talking political troublemaker. When the desperate president asks Archer, his lawyer, "You saw the polls, how bad can the numbers be?" the loyal adviser answers, "You broke the machine." How bad can the humor be? That bad.

Mamet makes it clear that George W. Bush is not his target. Fine. Aside from the Leader of the Free World's threat to banish his enemies on the "piggyplane" to Bulgaria with bags over their heads and manacles, there is scant resemblance to real-world satire. Mamet says rude stuff about Chinese and American Indians (definitely not called Native Americans), but there is little that would get him tossed out of the playground.

Can this be the same Joe Mantello who staged the ferociously uncompromising revival of Mamet's "Glengarry Glen Ross?" and directed Lane in an unforgettable "Love! Valour! Compassion?" Mantello appears unwilling or unable to find the seriously wonderful actor who existed before Lane froze his distinctive trumpet voice and flipper eyebrows in monster comedies. When Mamet's sly street-poet humor meets the hard sell, the language grates.

The production does give us the rare chance to admire Laurie Metcalf, a pioneering Steppenwolf artist (and riveting Laura in "The Glass Menagerie") best known in America as "Roseanne's" TV sister. Here she plays Clarice Bernstein, the president's lesbian speechwriter, just returned from China with a baby girl and a bad case of flu. Metcalf doesn't have to do much more than sneeze a lot and push eloquently for the cause of gay marriage. But for Mamet, who's not exactly a specialist in female characters, this is progress.

Dylan Baker finds shades of deniability in the dry scowl of Archer, the comedy straight man who tells the president the truth but doesn't flinch at the total absurdity. "Everybody hates you and you are out of cash," he tells the boss. "Cash out. Sell a couple of pardons. Everybody goes home sometime, Chucky."

Of course, the president wants his library and his wife wants the couch and Iran may or may not have launched a nuclear strike. Any of that might be more worthy a subject than the main conflict around the admittedly absurd and heartless ritual of the Thanksgiving turkey pardon.

A representative of the National Association of Turkey By-Products Manufacturers (a title more evocative than most of the alleged jokes) becomes the possible source of much-needed campaign funds. This running gag stoops perilously close to the equivalent of tossing rubber chickens in burlesque.

Scott Pask's conventional set for the Oval Office does have a copy of a Stephen King novel stuck in a pile of legal books. Nice. Laura Bauer's men-in-suits costumes are pleasantly interrupted by the sight of Bernstein in a puffy wedding dress.

"November" includes an unconvincing spasm of idealism about the wonders of our country. Bernstein, the president's conscience, proclaims: "We aren't a 'nation divided.' ... We're a democracy. We hold different opinions, but we laugh at the same jokes." If only.

NOVEMBER. By David Mamet, directed by Joe Mantello. Ethel Barrymore Theatre, 243 W. 47th St., Manhattan. Tickets $46.50-99.50; 212-239-6200. Seen at Tuesday's preview.