Dog Day Afternoon
Murphy’s Law (what can go wrong, will go wrong) upends the plan of three bank robbers, reduced by one who is high on drugs, forgets a shotgun and leaves in a panic while literally sh*tting in his pants, apologizing for being unable to do any of what Sonny (Jon Bernthal) asked him. If this isn’t the makings of a gonzo, botched bank heist, it just may be the makings of a riotous play.
Sonny can’t believe that Ray Ray (Christopher Sears) dumped their well-made plans into the toilet. What other situations will be turned over in the Broadway premiere of Dog Day Afternoon at the August Wilson Theater, running through July 12, 2026?
Based on an Article and the Film
Directed by Rupert Goold (Ink), the play is by Pulitzer-prize winning Stephen Adly Guirgis (Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train). He based it on the article “The Boys in the Bank” by P.F. Kluge and Thomas Moore, published by Life Magazine, and the Warner Bros. film directed by the impeccable Sidney Lumet. The production softens the film’s tension and adds humor that provokes raucous laughter.
Leaning heavily on irony and one-off jokes, the play conveys a wild situation in a 1972 New York City, itself under siege. Judging from the audience’s response the night I saw the production, Adly Guirgis and Goold succeeded in creating a great vehicle for Bernthal and Moss-Bachrach (TV series The Bear) who plays Sal. As they elucidate Sonny and Sal with their exceptional talents, they emphasize the “haywire” in a failed bank heist inspired by real events.
Different from the Film in Tone and Theme
Goold and Adly Guirgis have kept the setting, with a few updates in ideas and language (oligarchs substituted for the rich). However, the tone of the play is different from the film, which critiqued the social issues looming throughout the decade. Indeed, one might say that the film encouraged cultural reform by creating sympathy for its LGBTQ characters. (In Act II of the play, Sonny’s wife is played with convincing humor and pathos by Esteban Andres Cruz.)
In light of current troubling events, the play’s memorializing of that time in a deteriorating New York City becomes eerily soothing. Ironically, the tone, which borders on farce, conveys safety. We can view a less problematic time, when decency abides. It’s in the characters of Detective Fucco (John Ortiz) and Colleen (Jessica Hecht) and others – it’s even reflected in Sonny. At the same time, the sinister, cynical cruelty of FBI agent Sheldon (Spencer Garr) pings today’s law enforcement.
Overall, the production succeeds with its humorous approach, sterling performances and fine ensemble work, and period set, lighting, and great music selections and sound design (David Korins, Isabella Byrd, and Cody Spencer respectively). The set features a revolving stage which shows the facade of the Brooklyn bank and swivels to the bank’s interior, with tellers’ stations, seating near the office manager’s desk, and a view into the vault upstage. The design effectively engages the audience when Sonny steps outside to address the crowd (audience) in the play’s most theatrically satisfying moment. Outside the bank, Bernthal’s Sonny dynamically chides the cops and rouses the crowd.
Law Enforcement and the Justice System
Goold’s theatricality pops this turning point in the action. Up and down the aisles of the theater cops point their guns at Sonny while he says, “All this show of force – all this sh*t – it ain’t for me! They don’t need a whole army of blue bozos to put two in the back of my head – bag me, tag me – this is for you people! Make no mistake. They wanna scare you!” Guirgis pounds out an unfortunately current theme.
Hecht’s Colleen encourages Sonny with the word “Attica.” He and audience members chant it in a powerful echo. Bernthal raises his fist in remembrance of the prisoners and hostages who were shot by law enforcement during the 1971 Attica riots, a shameful day in the history of New York’s prison system.
Over 50 years later, through Jon Bernthal’s powerful performance, the play’s searing words recall the intimidation and fear tactics of our current justice system and abuses of law enforcement.
It All Depends on Sonny
Bernthal explores Sonny’s vitality as a mastermind manipulator who thinks on his feet and capitalizes on helpers like flirtatious, older Colleen. Hecht mines that part’s humor when she happily stays behind, though Sonny offers her the opportunity to be the first released. The other tellers joke that Sonny should first release the teller they don’t like. Clearly, they believe Sonny’s assurances that no one will die. But this claim runs counter to what Sal and Sonny privately agreed to. It upsets Sal.
The light-handed approach reduces the overall tension which essentially has been left to the character of Sal to convey. Moss-Bachrach thoughtfully portrays emotionally broken Sal as the former convict with PTSD from his prison experiences. His nihilism leaves him with two bad choices: worse crimes (Sonny’s harebrained robbery) or suicidal vengeance. Sal tells Sonny he won’t go back to prison.
Sal’s Intentions Become Clear
As events progress, the charismatic Sonny shines, even creating a weird Stockholm Syndrome effect with Colleen (Jessica Hecht). Simultaneously, the already isolated Sal loses the bond he thought he had formed with Sonny. With an edgy brutality he wrecks the congenial atmosphere and stomps on the box of donuts that John Ortiz’s Detective Fucco gave them.
We understand Sal when he says, “I’m not your friend. He’s not your friend. And this – this ain’t no f*ckin’ picnic, got it?” Unless Sonny convinces him otherwise, Sal will kill everyone. Sal’s terrific speech to Sonny about his “words” resonates with power. He’d like to believe Sonny about a helicopter escape, but he can’t because he knows Sonny is a con artist who is conning both him and the hostages. Despite his promises, Sonny’s words are empty.
Dog Day Afternoon is at the August Wilson Theater in NYC through July 12.
