- April 15, 2025
Loading
Oscar Levant was a wit, a composer, a pianist, a mental patient and the most reluctant celebrity of the 20th century. Doug Wright’s “Good Night, Oscar” considers all sides of this multifaceted talent on the Asolo Rep stage.
The play unfolds in 1958. It’s the night Oscar Levant (Max Roll) appears on "The Tonight Show" with Jack Paar (Sasha Andreev). That takes some doing. Levant’s been committed to a psychiatric facility.
His wife, June (Gail Rastorfer) gets him a four-hour pass on false pretenses. As the play begins, Oscar fidgets in the green room. Bob Sarnoff (David Breitbarth), the NBC network president, gives him three conditions: No discussion of religion, politics or sex.
Oscar breaks all three boundaries. Before that, he also breaks his agreement with the orderly — and downs an entire bottle of Demerol that he manages to steal. By the end of the evening, he’s flying.
His auditory and visual hallucinations ramp up — and he’s ultimately confronted by the hallucinatory ghost of the late composer George Gershwin (Harris Milgrim). Gershwin was everything Oscar wanted to be — and failed to become. He's Oscar's idol — and a symbol of his unfulfilled musical legacy.
In the real world, Oscar reluctantly plays the piano on “The Tonight Show” to placate Sarnoff. He’d wanted to play his own tune, but — prodded by his mentor’s specter — winds up playing Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” instead.
Oscar’s playing is more demonic than rhapsodic. He brings down the house — just before his collapse. The orderly puts him back together and — despite an offer of reconciliation from Oscar’s wife — takes him back to the facility. Oscar’s a broken man. He knows where he belongs.
Director Peter Amster keeps the pacing crisp. The show clocks in at just over 90 minutes but covers a lifetime of artistic self-doubt, OCD rituals and pharmaceutical shenanigans. The show’s schizoid structure alternates between the objective reality of NBC studios and the inner reality of Oscar’s mindscape. Amster keeps the picture clear.
Andreev’s Paar is no saint. He knows Oscar’s volatile, transgressive, Mad Hatter genius will make for good celebrity television. That said, Paar’s not just using Oscar as a cynical ploy to boost ratings. He genuinely believes his guest’s sardonic voice needs to be heard.
Oscar’s wife, June, may qualify for sainthood. She’s on her husband’s side — and it costs her. She puts up with a world of grief from her Oscar — but won’t put up with abuse.
Breitbarth’s Sarnoff avoids the “Animal House” cliché of the bullying authority figure. He just wants to do what’s best for NBC — and thinks having crazy guests on a national show is just plain crazy.
Sarnoff’s nephew Max (Jonathan Acosta) is a starry-eyed fanboy and a walking encyclopedia of Hollywood trivia. Oscar manipulates the kid with ease.
Alvin (Ibukun Omotowa) is an orderly orderly and not so easily conned. Milgrim’s George Gershwin is superior and slick. His character’s not the real composer, but a creation of Oscar’s mind — a sneering phantom who tells Oscar he never was a real composer.
Roll steps into Oscar Levant’s loafers — and slips inside his skin and soul. The actor doesn't merely play Oscar — he channels the man, from his caustic one-liners to his mad-genius stare. The actor pulls off this balancing act of comedy and crackup with sheer force of personality.
Roll’s final “Rhapsody in Blue” is part virtuoso piano concert, part exorcism — each keystroke strikes a hammer blow to the devils in his head.
Robert Perdziola’s sets and costumes are a perfect fit for the play’s inner and outer realities. His set captures the pastels and geometric designs of mid-century modernism. His costumes are tailored for the 1950s media-sphere. Bob Sarnoff’s a sharp dressed man in a double-breasted blazer; Oscar (to steal a phrase from his wife) looks like "Eeyore in a cheap suit." Nicely done.
Levant’s fiercest demon was his own self-loathing. The Ghost of Gershwin Past gives it visible and auditory form in this play. The real composer died at age 39 and left behind an enduring musical legacy.
Despite his disabilities, Levant lived to 65 and raised a family. He had a smattering of popular hits, but most of his serious compositions remained unfinished. Who had the most impact?
“Good Night, Oscar” reminds us of Levant’s legacy. There were giants in those days. He was one of them.
If you walked into the theater not knowing Oscar Levant from Oscar Meyer, you’ll know what a giant he was when you leave.