As you arrive at your seats at the Helen Hayes Theatre for Straight White Men, expect blaring rap music, a silvery mylar stage curtain, and two character actors roaming around the theater, chatting with the audience and offering ear plugs. Just before the show, they take the stage and introduce themselves as Ty Dafoe, a transgender native American, and Kate Bornstein. She says, "Me, I’m a Jew from the Jersey shore. And I’m what’s called ‘non-binary,’ which means ‘not man/not woman’ in the English language.” In other words, neither one is part of the primary demographic group in this country, straight white men, and that loud bothersome music just shows how environments are often created without a thought about others. Straight White Men is the first Broadway play written by an Asian woman, Young Jean Lee, and it's about success and self-esteem shown through a straight white family. The time is Christmas, and three brothers are reuniting at their Midwest childhood home where their retired father, Ed (Stephen Payne), a widower, lives with Matt (Paul Schneider), his eldest son, who just moved back home. Visiting are Jake (Josh Charles), a brash, affluent banker, now divorced, and writer/teacher Drew (Armie Hammer). Both are successful in the eyes of society. On the other hand, Matt, a Harvard graduate and the intelligent golden boy, is puzzling, especially to his brothers. He has no career, no goals, he works as a temp in a non-profit company and craziest of all, has moved back with his father and does the shopping, cleaning, cooking. What's up with him? The play takes place in the family den, the site of many years of rough macho energy, a well-worn room with shelves of board games and DVDs and faux leather furniture probably originally bought to withstand scars of three rambunctious boys. The set, designed by Todd Rosenthal, is framed with a plaque reading, "Straight White Men," resembling an exhibit in a historic museum with "Persons in Charge" (Dafoe and Bernstein), acting as museum guides. They occasionally appear to check as scenes change, and in one case, Bornstein carefully places a blanket over Armie, passed out on the sofa. As the play proceeds, their intermittent appearances feel gimmicky. As played by skilled actors, Jake and Drew stand out comically as they fall back into their juvenile horseplay and dance moves of the old days, kudos to choreographer Faye Driscoll. They urge Matt to join them in a hilarious protest parody he once wrote of Oklahoma! with a KKK chorus line. The second act moves into more serious territory after they see Matt crying. Each has his own reason why Matt would be crying. Ed says that Matt has serious student debut and needs money. Drew suggests therapy for clinical depression. Jake says Matt has no ambition and he should focus on a goal and gain confidence. The men are all part of a privileged life with educated parents and they know what defines success and how uneven life is. Their mother had created a board came called "Privilege" that spelled it all out, "Monopoly"-style. Under Anna D. Shapiro's direction, the plot, such as it is, stagnates as Matt listens to the repetitive suggestions. He is satisfied with his menial job, does not want anything more and refuses to accept money from his father to get him out of debt. His lack of ambition is clearly demonstrated when his father persuades him to pretend he is seeking a job. Ed plays the interviewer and Matt answers the questions. When Jake demonstrates the interview with his father, he delivers a persuasive mock interview. When Matt tries, his attempt is lackluster. While both brothers show compassion and are worried about Matt before they each grow contemptuous of his desire to be "useful." Charles portrays Jake with a convincing arrogance that comes across strong but gels well with Hammer's charismatic Drew. They have had their own personal barriers to overcome, Jake with his recent divorce and Drew who is having trouble with his latest book and admits he once considered suicide. Matt will not let them help him and we never find out if, or what has happens him, but Schneider's nuanced portrayal is a clear example of the one family member who cannot fit into the jigsaw puzzle of what makes a man significant. As the father, Payne shows his quiet happiness to have his boys home, and wryly indulges their horseplay. He hangs Christmas stocks on the mantle as he always did, stuffing them, as usual, peppermint candy canes and socks. He makes them all wear plaid flannel pajamas on Christmas Eve, just like always, and like them, he is puzzled and dismayed at Matt's apathetic life. His words to Matt are heartbreaking, "I feel like I haven't done a good job as a father." Straight White Men is generous with comic moments but there is an undercurrent of melancholy as it ponders the questions of a successful life and the identities placed on us by the powers of straight white men.
