Theatre in Review: First Date (Longacre Theatre)The one thing First Date has going for it is that it marks Zachary Levi's first date with Broadway; something tells me it's the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Cast as Aaron, a diffident financier trying to get back into circulation after being left at the altar, Levi mines his character's low-key manner and slow-rising panic for a steady series of chuckles. On a stage populated almost entirely by caricatures, he impresses with his easygoing, immensely likable persona. "Oh my God, I'm not a man; I'm a puppy," he declares in one of many moments of self-criticism as a blind date -- a quick drink with an option for dinner -- is dying by inches. He obsesses amusingly over every last detail of this supposedly casual event -- from what he is wearing to what to order off the menu. At the same time, without being maudlin, he reveals Aaron's yearning for a romance that doesn't end in shattered nerves. And when the moment comes for this mouse to finally roar, he does so with brio. Never mind that the song -- an imaginary takedown of his impossible ex-fiancée -- isn't very good; he tears into it with tornado force, reveling in his newfound skill at denunciation. Best known for his television work, Levi is a total stage natural; his performance may turn out to be one of the season's nicest surprises. Levi is also fortunate in his leading lady. Dressed in an alarmingly tight outfit completed with a trendy coiffure, Krysta Rodriguez's Casey, Aaron's blind date, enters with so many chips on her shoulder that you wonder how she can stand up straight. She comes on strong, but her eyes tell a different story, ranging from self-assurance to cold fury to penitence to just a little bit frightened, all in the space of a minute or two. Casey is a bit of a mess, secretly yearning for a boyfriend, yet determined to annihilate all comers with her take-no-prisoners attitude. It's a real tribute to Rodriguez that we remain on her side all night long, hoping that she will somehow manage to get a second date with Aaron. That's about it for First Date's modest list of assets. The scenario is filled out with flashbacks designed to demonstrate the enormous weight of the psychological baggage both Aaron and Casey are toting, but the libretto, by Austin Winsberg (of television's Gossip Girl), lays on the kind of jokes that usually end up on the floor of the writer's room. There's Allison, Aaron's egregious ex, who, in the bedroom, deflects his amorous advances, saying, "You know the rules: Once the retainer goes in, the vajayjay is off limits!" (If I were president, I would pass a sweeping law banning all punch lines using the word "vajayjay.") A crashing chord signals the appearance of a dozen or so projected clock faces, which is the show's way of noting that Casey's biological clock is ticking. And there is the requisite fussy gay waiter, with showbiz aspirations, who insists on butting in at various awkward moments, finally taking the stage to deliver one of the many unknown songs he has written. It's not just that the jokes are overfamiliar; it's that they're overstated. This is particularly true of the songs, by Alan Zachary and Michael Weiner, many of which consist of choral numbers featuring the restaurant's patrons, who assume the roles of Aaron and Casey's friends, lovers, and relatives. Aaron's nonplussed reaction to the news that Casey isn't Jewish is pretty funny -- but then the cast instantly dons Hasidic headgear and launches into a loud number punctuated with "oy veys" and Aaron's grandmother rises up, like Grandma Tzeitel in Fiddler on the Roof, to cast a malediction: If he dates a shiksa, she sings, "I'll break your matzo balls!" Reggie, Casey's best gay boyfriend, has been tasked with phoning in regularly with "bailout calls," allowing her to make a graceful exit if the date is beyond endurance. This cues a series of grimly unfunny numbers, notable only for the way Reggie is reduced to a loud, offensive gay stereotype. (Interestingly, Rory O'Malley played a not-dissimilar character in Nobody Loves You recently at Second Stage, but, thanks to better writing, direction, and performance, he all but stole the show.) The score is exploitative in other ways as well; for example, there's the number sung by Aaron's late mother, who has left a letter behind for her son. This device worked to powerful effect in Billy Elliot; here it comes off as a shameless eleventh-hour grab for tears. The director, Bill Berry, makes sure that every gag is heavily underlined, an approach that proves counterproductive. The best supporting performances come from Bryce Ryness, double-cast as Aaron's controlling best friend and as one of Casey's raunchy exes, and from Sara Chase, as Casey's dictatorial sister, who thinks it's time for her to get married, now. David Gallo's scenic and projection design is filled with gags designed to liven up these limp proceedings, among them a show curtain with the Manhattan skyline cut into the bottom. The restaurant set is a kind of metal box, backed by a blueprint; a set of pictures function as projection screens, so, for example, during the Jewish number, the screens are filled with rotating Stars of David. The overall effect is too busy, but the set does break apart to reveal a lovely moonlit streetscape, complete with subway entrance. Mike Baldassari's lighting transitions smoothly between a nicely detailed wash look for the book scenes and a variety of highly theatrical styles for each number. David C. Woolard's costumes achieve a series of remarkable fast changes for the chorus, who must execute transformations in full audience view. Kai Harada's sound design is a model of intelligibility. I should add that, despite everything, First Date has nervous-hit possibilities, thanks to the appealing leads, Levi's television following, and producer Sue Frost's skill at nurturing shows that haven't necessarily wowed the press. First Date reminded me of I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change, which similarly trafficked in easy, audience-baiting humor about the dubious joys of dating. First Date is unlikely to enjoy that show's multi-year run; however long it lasts, let's hope it is seen by writers and producers who can fashion future vehicles for Levi and Rodriguez.--David Barbour 
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