Set in 1972, based on the seminal Oscar-winning 1975 movie, Dog Day Afternoon has been fully reconceptualized as a riveting play. This unconventional heist leans into dark comedy, has some surprising LGBT themes woven throughout, and features no less than three stellar performances at the center. John Bernthal steals the show as Sonny, a nuanced bisexual with strong motivations, in his Broadway debut. Though the original film is well renowned, in this viewer’s opinion, it really has not aged well. The female characters lacked texture, and the storyline involving Sunny and Leon was relatively barebones. The theatre iteration wisely updates these elements, peppering in greater depth. Though the basics of the script—and true story!—are maintained by playwright Stephen Adly Guirgis and director Rupert Goold, this fresh take really goes for the fences, improving the structure, and making for a much more balanced end product. Rippling with fascinating characters and compelling drama, Dog Day Afternoon breaks the fourth wall, and invades every inch of its bank setting on the stages of the August Wilson Theatre.
The day seems to begin like any other for Chase Manhattan Bank, the real-life Brooklyn setting where the true story robbery played out. As the final minutes before closing time wind down, a latecomer disrupts everything from within. The security guard allows him passage against his better judgment, and before long, chaos ensues. In this case, that means: plenty of character interplay, and snide quarrelling as a team of three attempt to pull off a heist that will nab them tens of thousands of dollars. The scenic design and lighting of the play particularly impress regarding the bank itself. We constantly fluctuate in a very cinematic nature between the inside and outside; the first few times that occurs, it really stands out. The in/out does begin to grow a bit repetitive in act two, but the novelty takes awhile to truly wear out its welcome.
Each bank teller has a distinct personality, tied into the show’s methodical 70s atmosphere. The most compelling of the bunch is Colleen (Jessica Hecht), the head teller with a heart of gold and a sassy nature. The relationship that begins to form between Colleen and Sonny is a vital ingredient to the play’s success. In the film, there was no character akin to Colleen. Females existed merely to pad the runtime, given little texture and participation in the events as they played out. Even Sonny’s wife was a shrieky caricature. Guirgis drastically expands every female character; Colleen in particular receives a prominence that emphasizes her as a moral anchor for the inevitable insanity.
The biggest selling point will probably be the two lead actors plastered all over the advertising, but Hecht as Colleen absolutely holds her own against Bernthal’s more talky Sonny role. Bernthal gives, in my opinion, the best performance. So much hinges upon Bernthal’s Sonny, and he never disappoints even as he goes into the more dramatic moments of act two. As Sonny stumbles in and out of negotiations with Detective Fucco (John Ortiz), calming down his erratic partner, and quelling tensions between the tellers, Sonny really shines. Bernthal is significantly more likable in the role than Pacino ever was. Conversely, Ebon Moss-Bachrach as Sal is off-putting and freakish. Sal’s erratic behavior mostly appears that way by design, but that doesn’t make Sal any more likable or palatable to a general audience. Sal remains an unpredictable live wire, very different from his film counterpart. It’s not that Moss-Bachrach is bad; rather, he’s just a bit of an odd duck, and less vibrant to watch than Hecht or Bernthal.
The detective on the outside, working to solve the case and get the hostages to safety, always amuses. Though notable, one aspect the film pulled off better was the whole media circus surrounding the bank robbery. Turning into a full chant of “Attica!” and rousing the audience, Bernthal’s Sonny makes his rambling anti-authority speech a surprisingly potent encouragement of audience participation. As the layers peel off from a seemingly perfectly laid out plan, Dog Day Afternoon evolves into a dark comedy of errors. Anything that can go horribly wrong will indeed go wrong. The two acts do admittedly feel unbalanced. Act one leans heavier on the humorous side, while act two digs deeper into characters and motivation. Getting to experience the show on the final night of Pride Month—the “Dolls Night” performance specifically celebrated the night as being for New York’s LGBTQ+ community—felt particularly special given the socially relevant focal point of Sonny’s reasoning. Dom Martello as Leon fits so well within the framework. Their Leon floats between funny yet serious, spouting off campy dialogue comparing their prostitution to McDonalds millions served with aplomb.
There is plenty here to satiate those who may be bored with a more traditional play structure. Dog Day Afternoon feels incredibly cinematic, no doubt in large part due to its inspiration from the movie angle. An intimate phone call in the latter half is touching and tear-jerking, and the ending itself depicts a powerful dreamlike bookend to the narrative. This mines far richer territory than simply frantic robbers attempting a heist. Even when bits can grow a little tiring, the sharp jabs of humor and Brooklynite city-speak charge up Dog Day Afternoon as can’t-miss theatre.
Transport back to the 70s with Dog Day Afternoon, now playing performances at Broadway’s August Wilson Theatre through July 12th. For ticketing information, please head over to the official website.
