To paraphrase Chekhov, if a piñata is dangling from the ceiling as a show begins, should it not be swatted down in time for the final curtain? Well, in the case of Sandra Tsing Loh’s Madwomen of the West, the piñata is left intact, but the façades of its four characters are broken open to reveal some big secrets. Unfortunately, by the time these confidences are divulged, their importance has been overshadowed by the production’s self-referential gimmickry. It is the handicraft of Brecht, not Chekhov, that is at work here as the audience is constantly taken out of the world of the play with the performers speaking directly to them, or reciting stage directions aloud, or dropping character altogether.
Jules (Brooke Adams, left) surprises Claudia (Melanie Mayron) on her birthday in Sandra Tsing Loh’s Madwomen of the West.
This is not to say that director Thomas Caruso and company have created a 1930s Brechtian landscape. The apparent influences here are much more contemporary and include Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues and the ABC hot-topic roundtable, The View. The audience bears witness to four familiar women sipping champagne and passionately discussing women’s issues while vaguely attempting to portray four other women. And man, are they anxious for applause! Each entrance is staged to receive an ovation, each laugh line is fired directly into the house, and feminist touchstones like Gloria Steinem, Hillary Clinton and Mary Tyler Moore are offered up with the actors all but pleading for some hand clapping.
The play opens with cast member and veteran film actor Caroline Aaron, as herself, recounting an adventure she once had with Shelley Winters. It is the theatrical equivalent of beginning one’s presentation with an amusing anecdote. Soon enough she half-slips into her character, Marilyn, and the audience finds her in the Brentwood home of Jules (Brooke Adams). The two old friends are planning a surprise birthday brunch for their pal Claudia, which kind of explains the piñata, though as far as other party decor goes, Aaron notes, “You have to picture it. No money for props.”
“Each entrance is staged to receive an ovation, each laugh line is fired directly into the house.”
Claudia arrives, unexplainably dressed in flannel pajamas under a shabby coat, with a dog caddy in tow. She pulls out of character to reveal herself as actor Melanie Mayron. When Aaron whispers, “I’m so confused—there is no dog in this play,” Mayron replies, “I couldn’t get a pet sitter,” and that the dog is her actual pet. Like her Thirtysomething character, Melissa, for which she is best known, Claudia is a photographer, and like many a Thirtysomething fan who has lost track of Mayron since 1991, Claudia is shocked to find herself decades older.
The threesome becomes a quartet with the surprise arrival of Zoey, their very wealthy “former actress friend turned international wellness guru,” whom they haven’t seen for 20 years. As portrayed by Marilu Henner (both an actress and a wellness guru), Zoey shares Henner’s real-life trait of possessing superior autobiographical memory, allowing her to recall the time and date of nearly any past encounter. “Remember that night, March 22nd, a Thursday,” begins a typical recollection of their college days. And in one of Loh’s better gags, Zoey’s wealth allows her to have actual stage props and special lighting effects, to the consternation of her colleagues.
The actress turned wellness guru, Zoey (Marilu Henner), has a lot on her mind. Photographs by Carol Rosegg.
In Christian Fleming’s minimal but pricey-looking scenic design, a virtually unused golden orb of a coffee table sits center stage, half surrounded by a love seat and two chairs, all cheated forward in talk-show formation. Once the ladies are seated, the schmoozing begins in earnest. Marilyn’s marriage is on its last legs, as is her career as the overseer of the girls school that she founded. Jules’s husband is even worse than Marilyn’s. Claudia is broke, and her 16-year-old needs her more than ever, while Zoey’s finances are a mess thanks to a bad investment by her husband. But even though her personal wealth has tanked, Zoey, it turns out, also runs a well-funded foundation that allows her to save the day for her cohorts. The confounding message seems to be that money can buy other people’s happiness, if not one’s own.
Throughout, the significance of the women’s stories is usurped by larger issues. The lengthy roll call of topics includes cleansing diets, cancerous tap water, therapy, transsexuality, emotional granularity, Peloton, pussy hats, motherhood, menopause, sex positivity, and the hassle of dating musicians in the 1970s (“You were always putting up their flyers.”). It is ironic that a production so fueled by feminist power thus falls prey to two qualities that are anathema to the cause: an overeagerness to please and insecurity over how best to get its message across.
Madwomen of the West plays through Dec. 31 at the Actors Temple Theatre (339 West 47th St.). Evening performances are at 7 p.m. Saturday and Monday; matinees are at 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. For tickets, call Telecharge at (212) 239-6200 or visit telecharge.com/Madwomen-Of-The-West-Tickets.
