DOG DAY AFTERNOON Does Disney for Dads – Review
In order to maintain the life-or-death tension of a bank robbery, a stage adaptation of the 1975 Al Pacino hostage thriller, Dog Day Afternoon, should have no intermission and take place entirely within the scene of the crime. Based on a real-life incident in which two novice thieves immediately and continuously bungled their heist, the story relies on the intimate, livewire threat of two failures with nothing to lose. Playwright Stephen Adly Guirguis and director Rupert Goold’s take does not follow these ostensibly self-evident rules and, as a result, plays like a hangout piece with occasional bursts of danger.
It’s not totally a bad thing. David Korins’ massive set revolves to place us both inside and just beyond the bank; a source of constant gasps lit gorgeously by Isabella Byrd. And while an intermission remains ill-advised, the end of the first act fully reveals the show-saving command Jessica Hecht has over a live audience. It’s due almost entirely to her, as the branch’s no-nonsense head teller, that the production approaches any sort of stakes. Sensible and single for life, this teller knows hard work, and knows that her dimwitted captors, Sonny and Sal, have no clue what they’re doing. So it surprises even her, when she sees the crowd gathered outside of the bank respond to Sonny’s anti-capitalist tirade, to feel a certain kinship. It’s she against him, sure, but it’s also them against The Man. Hecht plays these contradictions with resolve, guilelessness, and her character’s small, thrilling wink toward adventure.
If Hecht gives the most well-rounded performance, it is not the fault of the other performers in this too-large cast. Making impressive Broadway debuts, Jon Bernthal and Ebon Moss-Bachrach acquit themselves as appealing stage creatures; especially Bernthal as Sonny, the talkative Pacino character. Each crafts specific performances that reach the back row, impressively so considering their motivations and basic relationship to each other seem to have gotten lost in Guirguis’ translation.
Sonny and Sal’s plan misfires from the jump, arriving long after the Brinks truck has picked up most of the bank’s cash and with a third accomplice fleeing before the operation begins. But where frustration should lead to chaos, with momentary comic relief from the absurdity of it all, the play cozies into something resembling a workplace sitcom: overdone ‘70s Brooklyn accents ham everything up; overlapping dialogue that, onscreen, feels Altman-esque is awkwardly split into Laugh-In punchlines; and jokes at the thieves’ incompetence play broadly, like farce. A cast of 20 (!!!), used mostly as non-speaking cops or barely-there bank employees, means talented actors like Christopher Sears and Andrea Syglowski feel forever in limbo.
Oddly, it is during that act one closer, when Sonny rallies the audience into chanting the film’s famous “Attica!” cry, that the production feels most itself. It’s essentially Disney for Dads, a curious blend of head-patting nostalgia and earnest artistry, delivered with a refreshing lack of cynicism. For all its flaws, and unlike its protagonists, Dog Day Afternoon is not trying to put one over anyone.
Dog Day Afternoon is in performance through July 12, 2026 at the August Wilson Theatre on West 52nd Street in New York City. For tickets and more information, visit here.
