On Iraq, Love, Philosophy, Cabbages and Kings

A quick note: Since I found out that these reviews actually can show up on Google alerts, I've decided to start posting a note at the top whenever I'm reviewing a preview performance, as is the case with the following. "The Vertical Hour" actually opens, and therefore is subject to the real reviews, on Nov. 30.

In an era when political discussion is regarded to be the mastery of talking points on "Crossfire" or "Hannity and Colmes," nuance is a liability. Supporters of the Iraq war are mindless Bush-bots, while its detractors are anti-American terrorist sympathizers.

Just don't tell that to Nadia Blye, a former war correspondent turned Yale political science professor whose firsthand experience with suffering around the world has convinced her that a war to free oppressed Iraqis was the United States' moral obligation (even if the execution turned out less than stellar). Although the work gets her steady spots on television and even once got her the ear of President Bush, her opinion hasn't exactly endeared the self-described feminist to her Yale colleagues and students. Still, the job is a more stable and safe alternative to her war correspondent days, and she's even found a stable beau to match: physical therapist Philip Lucas.

The character of Nadia in David Hare's "The Vertical Hour" marks the Broadway debut of Julianne Moore, which has already invoked comparisons of last season's debut of a certain other Hollywood golden girl by the name of Julia. I'm happy to say that Moore fares much better. But while Moore will probably and rightfully be the big draw to the show, there's a bigger reason to see this show: co-star Bill Nighy.

Nighy portrays Philip's estranged, womanizing father: nephrologist Oliver Lucas, whom Philip and Nadia visit at his isolated home near the border of Wales and England. The liberal, charming doctor obviously disagrees with Nadia about Iraq, but their discussion of the war and a few glasses of wine open up a much more personal discussion between the two.

Nighy's performance is nearly perfect down to the last expression and mannerism, and his appearance brings a spark to the stage that seems to be missing in the first scene, a discussion between Nadia and shallow student Dennis Dutton (Dan Bittner). Andrew Scott also is an excellent match for Nighy as the son who rebelled by becoming grounded.

The night I saw the show, Moore, who has only a handful of stage credits to her name, seemed just a little too broad in her first scene, a common occurrence from those most familiar with the film medium. That vanished by the time Nadia reached the United Kingdom, however, and Moore didn't disappoint from that point. There were even a few moments that neared Nighy's brilliance, no doubt in part thanks to the direction of Sam Mendes.

Hare's dialogue is sharp, although sometimes too much for its own good. As is often the case in intellectual works, the characters have a tendency to sound a bit like a Christopher Hitchens column. No one is that witty at 5 a.m. But I, for one, much prefer being talked up to than the alternative.

The set, designed by Scott Pask, is lovely in its simpleness: a gorgeous, giant tree in the middle of the stage that doubles as mere background for the window in Nadia's Yale office and the centerpiece of Oliver's yard. The black background that irises open to reveal the set following the brief monologues that begin each scene also is a nice effect.

Moore's presence probably means tickets for this show will be difficult to come by, but in this case, it would be completely justified. Brokers shouldn't have the same problem of having a hot ticket no one wants as they did with Julia Roberts' debut. And considering that more recent tenants of The Music Box theatre have included the dreary "Festen" and the bizarre "In My Life," I'm also glad the lovely little theatre once again has a tenant of which it can be proud.