January 19, 2023
Broadway’s Revival of “My Fair Lady”: I Could Have Watched This Shit All Night, Every Nightby Randi / May 31, 2018It’s Theatre Thursday! We’re talking about “Carousel” at Broadway’s Imperial Theatre.
When the current revival of “Carousel” was announced last year, everyone was beside themselves with excitement. With a cast including Jessie Mueller as Julie Jordan, Joshua Henry as Billy Bigelow, and opera diva Renee Fleming as Nettie Fowler, it ranked among the most incredible Broadway news in recent memory. Finally a phenomenal leading role for Josh Henry! Jessie Mueller never disappoints! Renee f-ing Fleming! This cast singing that wonderful, much-loved score? Hopes were insanely high all across the Broadway community, and of course such expectations could not go unfulfilled, right? I mean, this is “Carousel”, one of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s most beloved works and the musical that many (including Time Magazine in 1999) consider the best of the 20th century. Bring this shit on!, we all thought expectantly. Well, a word in that previous sentence applies to this production more than I ever could have guessed.
Despite having some pretty tough-to-fork-up material, director Jack O’Brien does just that, by presenting a lackluster, perplexing version of the musical that is somehow completely devoid of emotion. Is boredom an emotion? Devoid of most emotions. I heard a lot of the complaints on the boards that this production cut a few songs and scenes for no good reason and made some changes that die-hard fans of the musical objected to, but since I had actually never seen a full-fledged production of “Carousel” before, I figured that I wouldn’t know enough to be upset about any changes. So I went in assuming that I would adore this production. I did not. Turns out there is plenty wrong that doesn’t require intense fandom or deep knowledge of the original to recognize.
From the start, I knew someone had some ‘splaining to do. It’s forking called “Carousel” because a lot of the important action centers around one at a carnival (and life is like a merry-go-round too I guess such symbolism) and so when a Broadway production doesn’t actually have a carousel on stage – or virtually anysets at all – you’re asking for disappointment. True, the contraption that came down from the rafters – a sort of cardboard origami light fixture that expanded into a very pretty circle that acted as the suggestion of a carousel (or at least the top section of it) – was an impressive moment of stagecraft and it is a pretty lil bit of paper funtimes that would be excellent decoration in a backyard barbecue, but as the main set piece in a Broadway production it made my stomach hurt like Chidi when making a small decision. It doesn’t help that the show I saw before this was “My Fair Lady”, which has some of the most impressive and imposing set design I’ve ever seen, but seeing the barest of stages here at the Imperial was beyond dissatisfying.
The show begins with the Carousel Waltz, sort of an overture and an introduction to the setting and the story. We’re in coastal Maine in the late 1800s (the show was written in 1945), and we see Billy Bigelow exaggeratedly miming his duties as carnival barker (the “step right up!” job) as the ensemble dances for more than 10 minutes. Choreographer Justin Peck of the New York City Ballet is one of the most famous and esteemed, so in this production it’s clear that O’Brien just let him run wild with SO MUCH BALLET. If you’ve read my past reviews of musicals and ballets, you know that I always want more and more ballet in anything. Even full-on ballets sometimes haven’t had enough dancing for me. This production has too much. It’s not that it isn’t impressive; the problem is that it rarely is doing the job that dance should be doing in musicals: helping to tell the story. Instead, all the excessive ballet seems to be there just for its own sake instead of to further the story.
The first singing comes from Carrie Pipperidge, a role I know well because Audra McDonald won her first Tony for it. The Tony-nominated performer (who is likely to win it this Sunday) playing the role now, Lindsay Mendez, was out, so she must have been pretty darn sick or exhausted considering I was there two weeks before the awards, when voters are coming out in droves. Her understudy, Scarlett Walker, was very impressive, but I am disappointed to have missed probably this production’s best shot at an acting Tony. Anyway, Carrie sings to her best good friend Julie (Mueller) “You’re a Queer One, Julie Jordan” and you’re like this is how the show starts, mmkay. Julie was just yelled at by Mrs. Mullins, the mean old widow (Margaret Colin (Eleanor Waldorf from ‘Gossip Girl’ lolz)) who runs the carousel, because Julie let Billy put his arm around her when she rode the carousel. Mullins is bitter that no one’s putting his arm around her and also it’s the 1800s so I guess it was improper but it all seems a bit silly. After Carrie tells Julie how queer she is, Carrie sings about her new engagement in one of my favorite songs, “Mister Snow”, which is her fiancé’s name. At this point Julie hasn’t really sung and you’re like…is Carrie really the main female character? In this production, she really seems it. Even with an understudy on, Carrie shone much brighter than Julie and seemed to have MUCH more to do. Somehow O’Brien made Julie Jordan seem like the supporting character. That takes effort to make the leading lady seem so unimportant and inconsequential, especially when you have the usually divine Jessie Mueller playing her. But Jessie seems incredibly miscast here. The thought she always puts into her characters seems to be misleading her here (along with her director) and the performance is simply awkward.
Mueller’s unsuitability for this role is amplified like someone was shouting about it with a bullhorn when Billy comes to join the girls. Joshua Henry is a great performer and I’ve loved many of his performances. This is not one of them. Individually, Mueller and Henry are miscast, but thrown together, with all their lack of chemistry and tension and really anything, they’re a disaster. They just don’t work as a couple. I’m sure it must be an extremely big ask to turn down even one of these esteemed performers when you could have both, but that kind of decision making is required for the good of a show.
Even aside from the poor casting and zero chemistry, this production suffers from…the story of “Carousel”. It’s outdated and problematic, and it really doesn’t hold up in modern times, and instead of refocusing the story or using different direction techniques to reframe it, this production presents the old story straight. After the girls sing, Billy comes to join them and he tells off Mrs. Mullins and subsequently gets fired. He doesn’t seem to care. Carrie tells Julie that they better get home before curfew at their mill-workers quarters or whatever, but Julie wants Billy to think she’s cool, I guess, so she gets fired too. So these two miscast fools who just lost their jobs so they could stay out a little later and ‘flirt’ (talk to each other with zero emotion) tiptoe around awkwardly and sing one of the best musical theatre songs, “If I Loved You”, beautiful but with zero emotion. It’s a real shame that this song is done such a disservice by being given to this pair. Not the miscast Mueller and Henry – they sound lovely and would even if singing the phone book – but the pair of Julie and Billy. They’re revered as one of the important love stories in musical theatre, but really, they and the story of “Carousel” are a mess. A timid, clumsy girl meets an aggressive, cold man at a carnival and gives up everything because she wants him to love her. After they get fired, they…get married?! And Julie gets pregnant. Billy may claim he does eventually but he never, ever shows any sign of it, instead abusing Julie verbally and physically after they marry because he’s so sad he can’t find a job. Julie always defends his actions, understanding that it’s so hard for him to deal with the pressure of being a provider for his family. The biggest problem of all with this revival is that it doesn’t do anything to reframe their relationship in the modern day and age, and presents all these sentiments as not the products of their time, which they are, but as good enough to stand on their own with no new way of looking at it. It’s presented as fine for Julie to excuse her abuser’s actions because he can’t find a job. It’s not. In the second act, when Billy hits another female member of his family and she defends it as feeling like a kiss instead of a slap, it just lies there again. It’s weird.
If you don’t know the rest of the story, I’ll tell you real quick. After they get married and Billy yells at Julie a lot and hits her and everyone is DEPRESSED ALL THE TIME, Billy’s friend Jigger cooks up a hare-brained scheme for the two of them to rob a rich man. Oh and kill him. Billy at first says nah thanks but after he finds out he’s going to be a father and has nothing to give his kid, he decides to do it. Kids are expensive. And Jigger is super persuasive – Amar Ramasar was one of my favorite parts of this production, mostly because he is given the enormous dance solo that actually feels intentional. Amar is absolutely electric in his dancing and it was the most exhilarating scene of the entire production. Well, tied with Billy’s “Soliloquy”, when he thinks about what having a son, or a daughter, will be like. You know this song; it’s the big “My boy Bill” moment. This is where Henry absolutely shines – it’s helped by the fact that he’s alone on stage and just singing, which is what he does best. His version of this 7-minute epic song, one of the best and most challenging for men in musical theatre, is nearly flawless. He’s great here. It’s a shame that the rest of the performance doesn’t get the chance to live up to it (and given how great he is here, I do blame the director and other aspects and not Henry). His final decision, as he sings “I never knew how to make money but I’ll try! I’ll try! I’ll try! I’ll go out and make it or steal it or take it! Or die!” is riveting and you know one of those things is going to come true. Spoilers (for a 1945 show?? really?): it’s the last one. Jigger’s plan goes awry and the mark fights back long enough for cops to arrive, and instead of getting arrested or killed by cops, Billy kills himself. Julie is distraught, and Billy goes into the afterlife. He’s met by the Starkeeper, one of heaven’s administrative assistants or what not. The Starkeeper tells Billy that he has a chance to go back to earth for one day, to try to redeem himself since he has not earned enough points to get into heaven yet. Listen, Billy is an asshole. I don’t know what a mean abusive jackwagon can do in a day to redeem himself enough for entry into heaven, but I do know that what he does – give a pep talk to his now-grown daughter (time moves suuuuper fast on earth when one is off of it) – does not seem like it should be enough, especially since the tiny pep talk comes after he hits her. Yes Dream Ghost Billy goes back down to earth, watches his daughter do the famous Louise Ballet to introduce her character and her troubles, he meets his daughter, doesn’t tell her who he is obviously because she’s be like um what, but he still F-ING HITS HER, and then at her high school graduation he tells her to believe the words of “You’ll Never Walk Alone”, and that’s enough for him to get into heaven? PUH. LEASE. Also, not to beat the dead horse that is my review of this production, but the Louise Ballet was so upsetting for me. It was actually ugly. I was so disappointed. I get having the dance convey the character’s awkwardness as an outcast teenager, but there are ways to do that without having the dancing be so hideous and disjointed and just unenjoyable. At least it was overly long too.
So yeah, while the score is gorgeous and well sung, the book of “Carousel” is not something that such weak directing and producing can help with when revived today. Fortunately, there are enough highlights in this production to make watching the show bearable and often enjoyable, even through my exasperation. As I said, Ramasar’s Jigger is a highlight, as is Henry’s outstanding “Soliloquy”, even if the rest of his performance left me freezing cold. Carrie Pipperidge and Enoch Snow (our understudy Scarlett Walker and the always great Alexander Gemignani) seem like the main characters because they are the only energetic, charming people on that stage (well, at least until Snow achieves his desired level of success and lets it go straight to his head). And our Nettie Fowler is a consistent bright spot on this bare stage, as Renee Fleming is doing a bangup job in her first Broadway musical role, and seems to be carrying the entire show and company in her warm, loving arms. Her “You’ll Never Walk Alone” is as gorgeous as you’d expect, and although she didn’t say anything about the hucka the bejeepers, her “June is Busting Out All Over” was a joyous romp. She even made the weird song “That was a Real Nice Clambake” (real song title) enjoyable. So yeah, there is a lot wrong with this production, and it’s disappointing that we weren’t given a revival for the ages like we are with the current “My Fair Lady”, especially since it will be a while now before we’ll get another one. But there are some good things about this production (thank god), so it’s not a total loss.
INFORMATION
The front row of the rear mezzanine has a big barricade tight
at your knees with a heavy curtain hanging down it, so you can’t just jump up
and go like I thought you could when I bought the seat. If you are limber, you
are able to slither through the bars and through the curtain’s onto the floor
below like I did instead of waiting for my row to get up because IDGAF what
anyone else thinks (they thought I was bananas though for sure).
Run time is about 2 hours and 40 minutes.
STAGE DOOR
The ensemble comes out pretty quickly and everyone is very
friendly (except Eleanor Waldorf, actually, who was kind of a b word to me).
Renee Fleming actually took selfies which was amazing and she was absolutely
lovely. I called it after an hour waiting for Henry and Mueller, the longest
I’ve ever waited, but I could not defend wasting any more time waiting for
them. I mean I was going to lie to them anyway, so it’s for the best.
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“Home, I’m Darling”: Hey Mama Welcome to the ‘50s, oh oh oh oh oh oh
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about “Home, I’m Darling”, which ended its run on September 5 at London’s Dorfman Theatre.
In the opening scene of the wonderful new play “Home, I’m Darling”, you’re quickly transported to the 1950s, watching a “terribly happy”, no, “appallingly happy!” husband and wife go through their morning routine: the full-skirted wife in her brightly colored period-perfect kitchen dotes on her husband and serves him his perfectly toasted toast, his perfectly made tea, before bidding him farewell as he gathers his hat and briefcase and sets off for the office. It’s all very first-half-of-‘Pleasantville’, until the wife slumps into her chair and pulls out a silver MacBook from a drawer. With that flawless introduction, we know we have this couple not in the ‘50s, but living today, among us, who are actively choosing to live like they are stuck in the past. Why they would do this and how happy they could really be are the first questions that spring to mind, of many, and this play does a marvelous job of answering them.
In the opening scene of the wonderful new play “Home, I’m Darling”, you’re quickly transported to the 1950s, watching a “terribly happy”, no, “appallingly happy!” husband and wife go through their morning routine: the full-skirted wife in her brightly colored period-perfect kitchen dotes on her husband and serves him his perfectly toasted toast, his perfectly made tea, before bidding him farewell as he gathers his hat and briefcase and sets off for the office. It’s all very first-half-of-‘Pleasantville’, until the wife slumps into her chair and pulls out a silver MacBook from a drawer. With that flawless introduction, we know we have this couple not in the ‘50s, but living today, among us, who are actively choosing to live like they are stuck in the past. Why they would do this and how happy they could really be are the first questions that spring to mind, of many, and this play does a marvelous job of answering them.
With Laura Wade’s compelling script, tight and well edited yet large in scope, “Home, I’m Darling” seems like it will be a straightforward look at gender roles and whether feminism really does encompass the choice to be subordinate, but it develops into a complex deep-dive into what makes a marriage successful. When we meet Judy and Johnny, they’ve been doing this 1950s experiment for 3 years, after Judy was made redundant at her high-powered finance job (which we see in a truly great use of flexible and creative direction). Since the two of them love ‘50s fashion and old-timey cars, Judy suggests that they go all-in and she becomes a stereotypical ‘50s housewife, doing housework (with only era-appropriate appliances and cleaning methods, which she learns from her ‘bible’, a 1949 instruction book for housewives) and cooking (meat and potatoes and other suitably ‘50s meals) and baking up a storm and bringing her husband his slippers and a cocktail every day when he gets home from work. They turn their house and every aspect of their marriage into a flashback, not realizing that moving back in time will prevent them from growing together in their marriage.
Since the play is written and directed by women, I assumed like any good feminist that the woman would get sick and tired of being subordinate. But the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that. It unexpectedly becomes a stark look at the futility of trying to capture ‘the good old days’ when it’s really a means of hiding from your own problems. I was surprised that Johnny (Richard Harrington), waited on hand and foot, would ever get tired of the arrangement, assuming that it would be a dream for him and most men. But of course he did, because both people in a relationship have to take care of each other, and anything too one-sided is going to fail. Johnny also starts to lose respect for his wife, and a self-conscious embarrassment when outsiders see how they live soon takes over.
And Judy, who seems at first to be a straightforward housewife with some self-esteem issues, is much more complex too. Played by a fantastic Katherine Parkinson, Judy desperately clings to this lifestyle, even when faced with how many problems it’s causing, because it’s her way of feeling safe against the outside world. I was struck by Katherine’s too-calm tone in her delivery, like she was deliberately avoiding causing any kind of stir to upset not only her husband but the fragile world they created. When she finally confronts why she would want to live like this, Judy admits that she feels like when you’d be sick from school for a week, missing crucial lessons and feeling a little lost on those topics from that point forward, terrified that there will be a question on the exam about that. “That’s how I feel about the world”, she says. This bubble she wanted to create was the ultimate safe space for her, and if it doesn’t work, then she’ll have to deal with her own issues.
Including the backstory of Judy’s unconventional upbringing, which influenced her worldview as well, could have felt forced but instead it seemed earnest. Raised by an uber-feminist mother (a really fun Sian Thomas, in a role that could have easily been annoying but instead was cathartic) on a commune, Judy always felt a yearning for a traditional family life. Her mother, horrified by her daughter’s decision to live this way, is the only voice of reason, continually admonishing Judy and reminding her of how silly it all is with great lines like, “You can’t be nostalgic for the ‘50s – you weren’t there!” But rather than nostalgia, it’s more a dream of an escape, an avoidance of the real world, and she has transformed her feeling of being ill-equipped to handle the real world into a decision to stay safe and secure in this way.
Plenty of time is spent looking into their relationship with their best friends and into Johnny’s work life, which lets us see the fully formed universe of this story. Johnny’s deteriorating performance at work is linked to his unhappiness at home, as is his seemingly desperate and superficial attraction to his new young boss, something modern to tell himself he wants instead of dealing with problems. Their friends Fran and Marcus enjoy dressing up in period clothes sometimes and joining Judy and Johnny at something called Jivestock, an annual weekend event that sounds like my absolute nightmare. But their reticence to commit to playing unnatural parts feels like a personal injury to Judy, like yet another little poke at her bubble threatening to force her into an unwanted reckoning. When the man friend is in trouble at work for sexual harassment, it’s unclear whether Judy’s inclination to immediate side with him (against the more-and-more obviously right victim) is a result of her role-playing warping her brain or something she actually believes in, and the haze around this side plot is brilliantly formed.
Also brilliantly formed is the set, and honestly even if you weren’t into the story, you could happily spent the 2 ½ hours examining all the details of the two-story house they built. Each room was a different bright color with period-perfect décor, down to the pineapple-shaped ice bucket on their chic mid-century modern bar. Same for Judy’s gorgeous costumes, although the rest of the costumes left me cold. And I’ve never, ever seen any play that has such elaborate prop work, most of it food. SO MUCH FOOD! They eat breakfast, she makes his lunch, they eat dinner, she bakes, she cooks for guests, they eat dinner again – I can’t remember one 10 second snippet of this play that didn’t have food or cocktails involved. Honestly I don’t know how the actors or the crew keep track of all of that (and I hope they don’t waste all of it).
Aside from the scene breaks, in which two actors would dance to ‘50s music while the scene changed (it was hella awkward when they aren’t professional dancers), there’s not much I would change about this play. Although it seems like a straightforward story, the complicated issues of our protagonists are unexpected and profound, and the show reveals a lot more about the modern world and relationships than you’d think from the candy-colored look of it all.
INFORMATION
Yeah so I didn’t know I was seeing it on the last day! I am really hoping for a transfer of some sort because it deserves a longer run in a bigger theatre, especially to get more use out of that set!
I bought a Friday rush ticket (the National Theatre offers rush tickets for the following week’s performances across its theatres at noon every Friday) for 24 pounddollars, for a restricted view seat. My seat, P58, was on the stage right side of the mezzanine, which I really liked for one reason (the stage and stalls are actually below ground so my mezz seat was ground level (I don’t like being underground)) and disliked for most others (it was really restricted). There’s a big bar like RIGHT THERE so I had to do a lot of leaning over to see the living room at stage right. Even P59 would be a better option, even though it’s a more extreme angle, because the bar isn’t there. Just so you know for Dorfman bookings.
As is expected at every London play I see, the audience (and mostly the older men) laughed at WEIRD times. Like, when the friend admits that he’s on leave from work because he was inappropriate with his secretary, the old men in the audience LAUGHED. I imagine they were laughing in remembered commiseration like ‘ho boy do I know what that’s like!’ man alive.
Since the play is written and directed by women, I assumed like any good feminist that the woman would get sick and tired of being subordinate. But the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that. It unexpectedly becomes a stark look at the futility of trying to capture ‘the good old days’ when it’s really a means of hiding from your own problems. I was surprised that Johnny (Richard Harrington), waited on hand and foot, would ever get tired of the arrangement, assuming that it would be a dream for him and most men. But of course he did, because both people in a relationship have to take care of each other, and anything too one-sided is going to fail. Johnny also starts to lose respect for his wife, and a self-conscious embarrassment when outsiders see how they live soon takes over.
And Judy, who seems at first to be a straightforward housewife with some self-esteem issues, is much more complex too. Played by a fantastic Katherine Parkinson, Judy desperately clings to this lifestyle, even when faced with how many problems it’s causing, because it’s her way of feeling safe against the outside world. I was struck by Katherine’s too-calm tone in her delivery, like she was deliberately avoiding causing any kind of stir to upset not only her husband but the fragile world they created. When she finally confronts why she would want to live like this, Judy admits that she feels like when you’d be sick from school for a week, missing crucial lessons and feeling a little lost on those topics from that point forward, terrified that there will be a question on the exam about that. “That’s how I feel about the world”, she says. This bubble she wanted to create was the ultimate safe space for her, and if it doesn’t work, then she’ll have to deal with her own issues.
Including the backstory of Judy’s unconventional upbringing, which influenced her worldview as well, could have felt forced but instead it seemed earnest. Raised by an uber-feminist mother (a really fun Sian Thomas, in a role that could have easily been annoying but instead was cathartic) on a commune, Judy always felt a yearning for a traditional family life. Her mother, horrified by her daughter’s decision to live this way, is the only voice of reason, continually admonishing Judy and reminding her of how silly it all is with great lines like, “You can’t be nostalgic for the ‘50s – you weren’t there!” But rather than nostalgia, it’s more a dream of an escape, an avoidance of the real world, and she has transformed her feeling of being ill-equipped to handle the real world into a decision to stay safe and secure in this way.
Plenty of time is spent looking into their relationship with their best friends and into Johnny’s work life, which lets us see the fully formed universe of this story. Johnny’s deteriorating performance at work is linked to his unhappiness at home, as is his seemingly desperate and superficial attraction to his new young boss, something modern to tell himself he wants instead of dealing with problems. Their friends Fran and Marcus enjoy dressing up in period clothes sometimes and joining Judy and Johnny at something called Jivestock, an annual weekend event that sounds like my absolute nightmare. But their reticence to commit to playing unnatural parts feels like a personal injury to Judy, like yet another little poke at her bubble threatening to force her into an unwanted reckoning. When the man friend is in trouble at work for sexual harassment, it’s unclear whether Judy’s inclination to immediate side with him (against the more-and-more obviously right victim) is a result of her role-playing warping her brain or something she actually believes in, and the haze around this side plot is brilliantly formed.
Also brilliantly formed is the set, and honestly even if you weren’t into the story, you could happily spent the 2 ½ hours examining all the details of the two-story house they built. Each room was a different bright color with period-perfect décor, down to the pineapple-shaped ice bucket on their chic mid-century modern bar. Same for Judy’s gorgeous costumes, although the rest of the costumes left me cold. And I’ve never, ever seen any play that has such elaborate prop work, most of it food. SO MUCH FOOD! They eat breakfast, she makes his lunch, they eat dinner, she bakes, she cooks for guests, they eat dinner again – I can’t remember one 10 second snippet of this play that didn’t have food or cocktails involved. Honestly I don’t know how the actors or the crew keep track of all of that (and I hope they don’t waste all of it).
Aside from the scene breaks, in which two actors would dance to ‘50s music while the scene changed (it was hella awkward when they aren’t professional dancers), there’s not much I would change about this play. Although it seems like a straightforward story, the complicated issues of our protagonists are unexpected and profound, and the show reveals a lot more about the modern world and relationships than you’d think from the candy-colored look of it all.
INFORMATION
Yeah so I didn’t know I was seeing it on the last day! I am really hoping for a transfer of some sort because it deserves a longer run in a bigger theatre, especially to get more use out of that set!
I bought a Friday rush ticket (the National Theatre offers rush tickets for the following week’s performances across its theatres at noon every Friday) for 24 pounddollars, for a restricted view seat. My seat, P58, was on the stage right side of the mezzanine, which I really liked for one reason (the stage and stalls are actually below ground so my mezz seat was ground level (I don’t like being underground)) and disliked for most others (it was really restricted). There’s a big bar like RIGHT THERE so I had to do a lot of leaning over to see the living room at stage right. Even P59 would be a better option, even though it’s a more extreme angle, because the bar isn’t there. Just so you know for Dorfman bookings.
As is expected at every London play I see, the audience (and mostly the older men) laughed at WEIRD times. Like, when the friend admits that he’s on leave from work because he was inappropriate with his secretary, the old men in the audience LAUGHED. I imagine they were laughing in remembered commiseration like ‘ho boy do I know what that’s like!’ man alive.
The Sweet Science of Bruising: Interesting but Overly Ambitious
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about the new play ‘The Sweet Science of Bruising’, which had its world premiere at London’s Southwark Playhouse in October.
London has seen its fair share of plays depicting women of the Victorian era, but rarely have we seen them kick some ass. In Joy Wilkinson’s new play ‘The Sweet Science of Bruising’, four women from extremely different walks of life decide to swap evening gloves for boxing gloves and enter the ring. A refuge from the confines of every other aspect of their lives, the turn to boxing – and the attempt to win the title of Lady Boxing Champion – gives the women some semblance of control and power in their restricted lives. But the kickassy nature of this premise quickly gets weighed down by the play’s overly ambitious endeavor to shoehorn every possible bit of tragedy and drama into the story.
Or, really, the four stories. Each of the four female protagonists is given a good deal of focus, and while it’s wonderful to see four female protagonists in a play, it’s impossible to give each of their characters enough of a story without sacrificing the balance of the work. In the attempt to do the impossible – have four main stories while keeping the work sensible and cohesive – the play instead feels lopsided and inconsistent, and most of all overstuffed. Some of their trajectories seem to come out of nowhere or with too little to support the drama. And most of all, the writer seems hell-bent on reminding the audience that women of this time cannot have happy endings or even happy bits in the middle; it is all dire and dreary, all the time. We know that women were treated like garbage throughout most of human history; it’s not entirely necessary to remind us of that to such a degree that it makes the whole enterprise suchhh a bummer.
The opening of the play was actually the most brilliant part, and it was almost shame to realize it was a play within a play. One of our lady boxers, Violet Hunter (Sophie Bleasdale) is at the theatre with her rich Aunt George (Caroline Harker) and cousin (Alice Kerrigan, playing a few small roles in the show which is a shame because she has the most stage presence and ability of anyone). Two men on their stage comically fight over a sick woman that they both want to marry, and it was hilariously (and purposefully) overwrought and super enjoyable. That’s where the laughs end though, because our show is about fostering melancholy across all aspects of life. Violet is a nurse, but she wants to study to become a doctor. It’s not possible for her to do so in England, it seems? So she wants to go to France to study. Her aunt isn’t the most supportive of this idea, so Violet asks the doctor she works for. Doctor man of course just wants to marry her, and if he marries her he doesn’t want her to work because she wimminfolk, so Violet’s in a bit of a pickle. She decides to start boxing! At first I think it’s a way to earn the money she needs for her studies, but then it seems like she forgets about doctoring and just wants to box, which doesn’t seem supported by the story.
Next we have prostitute Matilda Blackwell (Jessica Regan), an Irish woman who, like all prostitutes in plays, is down on her luck and it’s depressing. Apparently, she works at a newspaper and so always has ink on her hands, but the newspaper industry was dying even then, I guess, so she also has to pros. (‘Her mother was a pros…’) She also works as a nanny? Damn she has some work ethic, at least, but she can’t get a break or make ends meet. She decides to start boxing! However, when the Old Professor of Boxing (true story) doesn’t choose her for literally ONE big matchup, her prospects are over?? And so she resorts to letting men beat her? It’s VERY confusing and odd and I didn’t like her story at all because I was like, wait, so she couldn’t do this one fight, so instead of just doing what she’s always been doing, she does worse stuff? Does not compute.
One of Matilda’s regular customers at the prossing station is a ‘gentleman’ (Joe Coen) who is married to a lovely wife named Anna Lamb (Kemi-Bo Jacobs). Anna’s husband is a sumbitch and you really want him to die the whole time, even aside from the whole-seeing-a- prostitute-while-married thing. He treats Anna terribly, threatens her, and makes her timid and afraid for herself and her children at all times. She decides to start boxing! Of course, we can’t let her horrible shitbag husband find out, and of course he does. Kemi-Bo is gorgeous and is really well cast for Anna’s gentility. But Anna’s story is the saddest and most depressing. However, it isn’t very effective: instead of making us feel for Anna and her situation, what we fell is more like JESUS CHRIST STOP PILING ALL THIS DEPRESSING STUFF ON TOP OF EACH OTHER LET US BREEEEATHE.
Lastly, we have Polly Stokes (Fiona Skinner), a poor, sickly but strong girl who was orphaned as a bebbeh (her words) and adopted by a family. She was raised with an adopted brother who is now her lover. It’s rull weird guys, like even if you aren’t blood, you’ve still been siblings your entire lives, that is grosssss. Her brotherlover is a boxer so she has trained with him her whole life. She’s a natural and tough as nails. So she decides to start boxing! Will her brotherlover stand by her when she proves to be a champion in her own right? Gross. The actress is clearly really strong so they make her do push-ups for us and she jump-ropes to show the ‘training montage’. I’ve seen several shows recently where they make actresses jump rope to show that they are getting into shape and I’m over it. Polly was probably the most compelling character, because the actress was so well cast and was giving it absolutely her all, but she looked exactly like an old friend of mine so I was very distracted.
I would have loved if at least half of the show was about these women finding strength in their new ventures, but as soon as they throw their very first punches, it’s like their worlds crash around them even more. What’s the moral of that, then? That women should not even think about having agency because it’ll make things worse? If they found some strength and felt a little powerful even for a short time and then realized it wasn’t sustainable in their society, that would have been believable and still enjoyable as a story, even if it wasn’t entirely accurate. But to have them suffer even more when they decide to exert any agency over their own lives feels cruel. Even so, it’s a very interesting work, and I hope future productions happen, albeit with some reigning in of the ambition and focusing on more achievable goals.
The opening of the play was actually the most brilliant part, and it was almost shame to realize it was a play within a play. One of our lady boxers, Violet Hunter (Sophie Bleasdale) is at the theatre with her rich Aunt George (Caroline Harker) and cousin (Alice Kerrigan, playing a few small roles in the show which is a shame because she has the most stage presence and ability of anyone). Two men on their stage comically fight over a sick woman that they both want to marry, and it was hilariously (and purposefully) overwrought and super enjoyable. That’s where the laughs end though, because our show is about fostering melancholy across all aspects of life. Violet is a nurse, but she wants to study to become a doctor. It’s not possible for her to do so in England, it seems? So she wants to go to France to study. Her aunt isn’t the most supportive of this idea, so Violet asks the doctor she works for. Doctor man of course just wants to marry her, and if he marries her he doesn’t want her to work because she wimminfolk, so Violet’s in a bit of a pickle. She decides to start boxing! At first I think it’s a way to earn the money she needs for her studies, but then it seems like she forgets about doctoring and just wants to box, which doesn’t seem supported by the story.
Next we have prostitute Matilda Blackwell (Jessica Regan), an Irish woman who, like all prostitutes in plays, is down on her luck and it’s depressing. Apparently, she works at a newspaper and so always has ink on her hands, but the newspaper industry was dying even then, I guess, so she also has to pros. (‘Her mother was a pros…’) She also works as a nanny? Damn she has some work ethic, at least, but she can’t get a break or make ends meet. She decides to start boxing! However, when the Old Professor of Boxing (true story) doesn’t choose her for literally ONE big matchup, her prospects are over?? And so she resorts to letting men beat her? It’s VERY confusing and odd and I didn’t like her story at all because I was like, wait, so she couldn’t do this one fight, so instead of just doing what she’s always been doing, she does worse stuff? Does not compute.
One of Matilda’s regular customers at the prossing station is a ‘gentleman’ (Joe Coen) who is married to a lovely wife named Anna Lamb (Kemi-Bo Jacobs). Anna’s husband is a sumbitch and you really want him to die the whole time, even aside from the whole-seeing-a- prostitute-while-married thing. He treats Anna terribly, threatens her, and makes her timid and afraid for herself and her children at all times. She decides to start boxing! Of course, we can’t let her horrible shitbag husband find out, and of course he does. Kemi-Bo is gorgeous and is really well cast for Anna’s gentility. But Anna’s story is the saddest and most depressing. However, it isn’t very effective: instead of making us feel for Anna and her situation, what we fell is more like JESUS CHRIST STOP PILING ALL THIS DEPRESSING STUFF ON TOP OF EACH OTHER LET US BREEEEATHE.
Lastly, we have Polly Stokes (Fiona Skinner), a poor, sickly but strong girl who was orphaned as a bebbeh (her words) and adopted by a family. She was raised with an adopted brother who is now her lover. It’s rull weird guys, like even if you aren’t blood, you’ve still been siblings your entire lives, that is grosssss. Her brotherlover is a boxer so she has trained with him her whole life. She’s a natural and tough as nails. So she decides to start boxing! Will her brotherlover stand by her when she proves to be a champion in her own right? Gross. The actress is clearly really strong so they make her do push-ups for us and she jump-ropes to show the ‘training montage’. I’ve seen several shows recently where they make actresses jump rope to show that they are getting into shape and I’m over it. Polly was probably the most compelling character, because the actress was so well cast and was giving it absolutely her all, but she looked exactly like an old friend of mine so I was very distracted.
I would have loved if at least half of the show was about these women finding strength in their new ventures, but as soon as they throw their very first punches, it’s like their worlds crash around them even more. What’s the moral of that, then? That women should not even think about having agency because it’ll make things worse? If they found some strength and felt a little powerful even for a short time and then realized it wasn’t sustainable in their society, that would have been believable and still enjoyable as a story, even if it wasn’t entirely accurate. But to have them suffer even more when they decide to exert any agency over their own lives feels cruel. Even so, it’s a very interesting work, and I hope future productions happen, albeit with some reigning in of the ambition and focusing on more achievable goals.
