Review/Theater; Robards and Ivey As Head and Heart
HE is "the oldest living man in Gloucester, Mass.," a crotchety retired high-school teacher who never married. She is the warm-hearted young widow, also childless, who answers his ad for a live-in housekeeper. He is Jewish. She is Catholic. He is a chilly intellectual. She is a sentimental slob. He likes Mozart. She likes Phoebe Snow. He has a hearing aid. She has a big mouth. So it goes, and goes and goes and goes, in "Park Your Car in Harvard Yard," the Israel Horovitz comedy that has parked Jason Robards and Judith Ivey at the Music Box Theater on Broadway, one of New York's most merciless tow-away zones. The play is one of those one-set, two-actor, odd-couple contraptions that periodically seduce producers in search of low budgets and high returns along the lines of "Same Time, Next Year" or "Educating Rita." This particular example is only five minutes old before the audience is sure that the playwright can only be heading in one of two directions: either one of his characters will die in bed, or both of them will have sex there. In the evening's sole burst of ingenuity, Mr. Horovitz nearly pulls off both these denouements, though the advanced age of Mr. Robards's teacher requires that the carnal climax be achieved by proxy.