Ideal, yes, but there's no coasting about it

It's been more than a week since I saw the final part of Tom Stoppard's epic trilogy "The Coast of Utopia," now playing in repertory at the Vivian Beaumont at Lincoln Center, and I still haven't been able to put together a coherent review. In retrospect, I should have approached it piece by piece, because the entire trilogy is so vast, even straight summary would be more paragraphs than most would be willing to read on an humble blog. Nonetheless, I'm still gonna try.

At a cursory glance, the first part of the trilogy, "Voyage," is deceptive. It makes it seem it seem as if this will be the story of the whiny moocher Michael Bakunin (Ethan Hawke) and his upper class family in 19th Century Russia, but his arc, as it turns out, is merely a supporting role in the true core of the story, philosopher and muckraker Alexander Herzen (Brian F. O'Byrne).

I'll stop with the plot summary there, because as I said, it's truly immense. With the exception of Hawke, O'Byrne and a few others, the 30-something strong cast, including many headlining players, rotate through a variety of roles during the decades covered by "Utopia," the final years of the oppressive system of serfdom and censorship in Russia. With each chapter, it took my brain about 15 minutes just to adjust to the scope of what I was seeing.

Once that happened, the work is truly magnificent of the raves it has received. Every piece of the production -- the costumes, the music, the lighting -- is stunning. And as always, Stoppard's use of language is nonpareil among modern playwrights.

The cast is consistently strong. Not surprisingly, O'Byrne has the gravitas to carry the show, but I would have gladly watched a show that centered on any of the supporting characters as well. Hawke is the perfect blend of angst and obnoxiousness as the moody, pushy Bakunin. Jennifer Ehle creates three great characters but particularly shines as Herzen's wife Natalie in the second part, "Shipwreck." Amy Irving, Martha Plimpton, Richard Easton, Billy Crudup, Patricia Conolly...all superb.

That's not to say this is easy to digest. Far from it, in fact. In fact, it's already found a fashionable detractor in the New York Times' Charles Isherwood, who bravely authored a piece last weekend calling the trilogy a bore. The synopses handed out with the Playbills help, but it does seem a bit daunting to have to cram before the curtain. And I'll admit the endless philosophizing in grand speeches does get tiresome. My mind wandered more than once. At one point in third part, "Salvage," as a long lost friend came to visit Herzen, he immediately launched into one such speech, and I silently said thanks that I left behind such incessant and self-important thinkers in college.

So...how should one see this show? Honestly, I don't think I would have the constitution to make it through one of the marathon performances in which all three segments are performed over about an eight-hour span, with breaks in between, of course. I think those are pretty much sold out, anyway. I don't regret having bought individual tickets for each segment, as this was a good choice for my once-every-few-months full-price splurge (good luck finding discounts on this one).

The common advice I've heard is that if one could see only one part, to see "Voyage." I disagree. "Shipwreck" had the most impact for me. The story of Herzen's family is the most intriguing and satisfying of the arcs, and most of it takes place in "Shipwreck." "Voyage" left me wanting more, so I think it alone would be a bit of a tease. And "Salvage," while strong, probably would make the least sense standing alone, as Herzen is already a defeated man when it begins. Plus, seeing the third part only would deprive a theatregoer of seeing Irving and Crudup, neither of whom are even in "Salvage."

But I hope no one lets the enormity, weighty subject matter and syllabus-style suggested reading lists for this show be a detterent from seeing this. An undertaking like this is a theatrical rarity, even in New York. And even if every syllable is not understood, it's still not difficult to appreciate the beauty of great performances, solid production values and Stoppard's delicious language.