It really is a shame I spent all last night blogging about terrible horror flicks, when I could have devoted myself to something more cultured. Anyway, here is my review of the Carol Boothe Luce's play, The Women.
A couple critics, including Hamilton's Gary Smith, have lambasted director Alisa Palmer's take on this play, mainly because the girls aren't vicious enough.
There's some truth to that, but I don't know how much.
IMO the scenes in this play that were the best-executed included one between the main character Mary Haines (Jenny Young) and her arch-nemesis Crystal Allen (Moya O'Connell). The main focus of the play is on the conflict between the two women, as Crystal's affair with Mary's husband threatens to tear Mary's family and circle of friends apart.
Jenny Young is incredible in the lead role. Her voice is consistently calm, but you feel beneath her words that she's just trying to keep her family together and fend off an ambitious tart, both young and blond, who has Mr. Haines around her finger. You yearn to see her finally draw her claws, put on that "jungle red" polish, and go right for Crystal Allen's throat.
But Crystal Allen knows she won't, and that's where Moya O'Connell's insolent determination makes the tension impenetrable.
To be fair though, the other actresses play up the camp a little too much. There are a couple "cat-fights," so to speak, that really trivialize the physical and emotional violence these women wreck on one another. Wendy Thatcher is over-the-top as the Countess de Lage, as is Nicola Correia-Damude as Miriam Aarons, Ms. Haines' untrustworthy friend and confidante. Although thematically, their own problems with unfaithful husbands, backstabbing girlfriends, and material excess, are similar to Mrs. Haines's, they don't draw the same critical interest.
That isn't to say this is wrong at all though. Each of "The Women" seem to portray a different spin on Depression-Era feminine cruelty. The backstabbing, screaming, whining, etc. are all simultaneously scary, tragic, ridiculous, and absurd. This is your brain on PMS.
My mom thought the play was set in the 50s, until I showed her the author's bio, and she realized that the play is actually set in the 30s. The costumes certainly aren't period, but that aside, the costumes are post-war with a touch of modernity (with the exception of Nancy Blake [Kelli Fox], who consistently looks like an art teacher/mime mash-up with enough jewelery to give Ke$ha an acid flashback).
On top of all that, the sets are brilliant, though there's one particular stairwell off to the side, which every building in the play seems to have--that does get a little tiresome. Other than that though, the use of these multipanel mirrors give this chilling shine to all of the beauty salon and exercise room scenes, all of which form this unsettling cultural movement to force women into strictly regimented fitness routines. The domestic scenes, on the other hand, were neat, but nothing special, and even at times suspiciously modern-looking.
Overall though, it was a great show, and I'd highly recommend it. It plays at the Festival Theatre in NotL, running until October 9th.
You can check it out here.
As for Gary Smith's review, thespec.com has a terrible search engine so I couldn't find it. Still, I'm pretty sure it's on that site; I just lack the motivation to look for it. So if you're smarter than me, perhaps you can find it on your own.
No comments:
Post a Comment