By: Darryl Reilly
Ayn Rand completists and devotees of theater curios should be enraptured by this spirited and occasionally hilarious “radical reimagining” of her loopy 1934 courtroom drama Night of January 16th. It ran for 235 performances on Broadway garnering attention for its then novel immersive device of selected audience members being the jury and voting on the verdict. This play has been rarely performed since its debut.
It is of its time consisting of three acts lasting two and half hours, and is filled with Rand’s consuming theme of pro-capitalism and mankind. A foreign-born high society industrialist’s body has landed mangled on the sidewalk outside his Manhattan penthouse apartment. A suicide note was left but there is evidence to believe he was pushed out the window by his mistress, she is on trial for murder.
Rand renders her legal procedural with stock characters spouting characteristically overheated dialogue and speeches, cultural concerns, and Agatha Christie-style twists and turns. It all comes across as a flashy 1930s Warner Brothers-type crime drama. Rand was a Hollywood screenwriter before offering her landmark novels and becoming a controversial philosophical figure.
Fierce fan snapping by a gay Black police expert witness, a dominatrix-style female prosecutor holding a riding crop, and a scantily clad blindfolded female bailiff who doubles as a cavorting saucy Lady Justice are among the numerous campy flourishes in this cheeky revival which is presented by the Ruth Stage theater company.
Director Theo Devaney’s grandiose physical staging achieves a stunning surrealistic dimension on an eerie void in recurrent ominous dimness. Mr. Devaney also boldly appears in close-ups via green-tinted projections as the omnipotent judge. With his stentorian English accent, he is part Hammer horror films and part Hellraiser. Casting director Nate Riccio warrants mention for assembling the exuberant ensemble.
The alluring Maryam Basir is dynamic as the prosecutor authoritatively reciting legalese while dressed for an S&M club, she anchors the show. Jovial Gary Martins magnificently blusters as the defense attorney. Facially expressive Bethany Lanza is riotous as the Teutonic housekeeper out of Mel Brooks. Bewitching Hannah Beemer’s seductive presence showcased by an exotic black outfit informs her arresting turn as Lady Justice. Sparkling Christa B. Allen is marvelously in hardboiled film noir dame mode as the woman on trial.
Silently appearing in flashbacks as the deceased tycoon, Matt de Rogatis is charismatic and exhibits sensual balletic grace. Later as a coldblooded thug, de Rogatis joyfully channels the likes of James Cagney, George Raft, and Spencer Tracy while employing his soaring tenor voice, tough guy accent, and intense physicality.
Impish Prince Hamadi is a delight as the fan snapping police handwriting expert. Jim Kempner is menacingly brusque as the old money father-in-law. Lanky John Pigate is wickedly in Richard Widmark-style overdrive as a testifying detective. Wide-eyed Emily Slass is gleefully high strung as the stoic widow. Joe Pandosh’s nutty witness bit is highly appealing. Dylan Joseph Lee Catania’s mirthful Scandinavian accent enhances his droll appearance. Nelson DePasquale brings authentic Depression-era humanity to his turn.
The unison of Christian Specht’s virtuoso scenic and lighting design is dazzling. The black-accented stage is set with a few chairs and lecterns, from such simplicity comes an epic netherworld. That is complemented by Tomas Calinao Correa’s crashing sound design which realizes music and effects with brute force. Costume designer Alexandra Rose’s fabulous creations range from vintage-type everyday wear to timeless perversity. The performance under review was efficiently overseen by stage manager Yichun Li.
This incarnation of Night of January 16th is a wild theatrical experience.
Night of January 16th (through October 18, 2026)
Ruth Stage
Theatre Row, 410 West 42nd Street, in Manhattan
For tickets, visit www.ruthstage.org
Running time: two hours and 30 minutes including one intermission and a pause