Once more into the nostalgic sports bio-play breach, dear friend, once more. Following up his portrayal of legendary coach Vincent Lombardi, playwright Eric Simonson digs back into the annals of epic NBA rivalries to lend his hand to the story of Magic Johnson and Larry Bird in the bluntly titled Magic/Bird. This play offers about what you would expect of it, provided you're not looking for actual athletic action on the stage or any deep, meaningful insight about the two title figures.
The illusion of seeing Larry Bird is only occasionally achieved by actor Tug Cocker and is left entirely to the generosity of the audience's suspension of disbelief in Kevin Daniels's attempt at Earvin "Magic" Johnson. There are no Frost/Nixon moments when you're left wondering where Frank Langella went and when Richard Nixon showed up, no such magical instances of theatrical transformation, but both Cocker and Daniels are likable and make pleasant company for the ninety intermission-less minutes that the play requires
Cocker seems to have begun his journey of getting underneath Bird's skin, but stopped before he got too deep. Resting on a stoic Midwestern mentality and a backbreaking work ethic, he fails to take it any further, yet manages to stir these few ingredients into a palatable performance. Daniels struggles more, trying to pull out momentary emotional truth with the limited resources he's given in a relatively shallow script about an undoubtedly more complicated couple. All other actors in the play portray a collage of characters to fill in the necessary background and sounding boards. Peter Scolari makes some strong choices and manages some clearly distinct characters, which is key, as a few virtually enter while the others exit. Deirdre O'Connell is strongest when wearing her blue collar as a bartender in Boston and Bird's mother; Francois Battiste gets hung up in gimmicks but is entertaining enough; and Robert Manning Jr. blends into the background as a variety of teammates and official figures.
The production's weakest link is its directing, with Simonson's script coming in a not-too-distant second. Director Thomas Kail appears to have had no inspiration to offer this story, nor any ingenuity on how to bring it to life. Kail drops the ball by shying away from using any actual athletic prowess on stage and compounds the issue by allowing projections to fill the gap. The main reason anyone cares about or ever cared about Johnson or Bird is their physical abilities on the court; lacking any such displays on the stage robs the play of any significance it might have. Simonson's script only supports this point, as he fails to unearth any profundity in the central relationship and instead opts for a more verbatim telling that avoids complex emotions or epiphanies, trotting down the "they're rivals, but ah shucks they're friends anyway" path. David Korins somewhat distracts from these deficiencies with a functional and, at times, exciting set design, while Jeff Sugg oversaturates the stage with projections that often remind the audience of the epic figures and moments they're not seeing in person.
For someone looking to kick back, dip in some basketball nostalgia, and watch a surface recap of the story of Larry Bird and Magic Johnson, this play should prove very satisfying. It hits on the key moments and touches on the importance of competition in bringing out the best between competitors. Those looking for insight, challenge, or complexity should abandon all hope of finding it in Magic/Bird, but if you're going for anything other than light entertainment, you may be a bit misguided. That's what Shakespeare's for.