Helen

 It was bound to happen. After a sterling year including the newly Pulitzer-awarded Topdog/Underdog, the interesting Keith David-Liev Schreiber Othello revival and Elaine Stritch at Liberty (probably the most rewarding and transporting production I've ever had the privilege of writing about theater), The Public Theater has finally laid an egg. And, my, how this egg is cracked. You could breathe the names Ellen McLaughlin, Tony Kushner, Donna Murphy, Marian Seldes, Denis O'Hare, Johanna Day and Phylicia Rashad to anyone in the theater world, and they would probably all tell you that putting those names together could never be catastrophic. I guess those people never witnessed Helen, McLaughlin's arch, thoroughly disgraceful retelling of the story of Helen of Troy, the beauteous creature that made men swoon and fight for her affections. After five minutes with her here, you'll wonder why they went through all the trouble.
Set 17 years after the start of the Trojan War, we first see Helen (Donna Murphy), lounging in her lush bedroom talking of destruction and despair, which is soon revealed to be that of...houseflies. She kills them daily, mostly out of boredom, awaiting the return of her husband Meneleus (Denis O'Hare). She never leaves the room for any reason and doesn't even have bodily movements, which she relays to a visitor, Io (Johanna Day), a lover of Zeus who was turned into a cow. Also dropping by (via Michael Yeargan's sumptuous Egyptian set, complete with elevator) is Athena, played by Phylicia Rashad in shockingly unflattering silver lame. Meanwhile, Helen is helped with her day by a tale-spinning Servant (Marian Seldes), who sashays in and out of rooms like a former member of the Bangles.
The entire affair plays out in an overly precious and thuddingly boring manner. In his first outing as a director, it's best to say that famed playwright Tony Kushner makes a damn fine playwright. He has little use for conceptual staging, as everybody basically overuses one mannerism for two hours or barely moves across the large stage except in the most frivolous ways. And his handling of a group of (usually) terrific actors borders on abuse. Murphy seems to try so hard to shed her past roles that she comes off as a nitwit, and the part contains none of her ingrained intelligence as an actress. Day is embarrassing, never overcoming her silly cow outfit, and anyone who would cast Seldes as a mere servant needs to be jailed. But the real low point is Rashad, who Kushner coaxes into giving a performance of pure minstrelsy. From her first appearance, every choice she makes is a bad one, and Kushner's insensitive direction only compounds the mistakes.
Another debit is having Helen address the audience more than her co-stars. With a standard clasping of the hands in an "aren't I cute?" sort of way, she begs for our attention and approval. For a few minutes, she has the former. For the rest, she has absolutely none of the latter.