Girl Talk


Reviewed 4/14/06

The Women
by Clair Boothe Luce
Directed by D. Scott Withers
Phoenix Theatre, Phoenix
(602) 254-2151
April 14th - 30th, 2006
$27.00 - $34.00
Discount tickets may be available at

Moved from the Deco mid-30s to the Mod mid-60s, Clare Boothe Luce’s biting The Women is being remounted on Phoenix Theatre’s stage. Luce’s caustic characters have traded in pinstripes and somber colors for Cari Smith’s brightly colored skirts and blouses, evening gowns, and pants suits. While it’s a stretch to imagine this post-Jackie Kennedy group uttering some of the scripts more naïve comments, it’s still damned fun to watch these cats sharpen their claws and circle each other. Director D. Scott Withers has made this as stylized as an episode of The Avengers and just as kitschy, from the silly accents he draws from such seasoned actresses as Lillie Richardson (playing the acidic Sylvia) and Kristen Drathman (as the perpetually pregnant Edith) to the well rehearsed and presentational scene changes. However, no matter how much of a fan you may be of the 1939 film or of the spectacle of rapier tongues and parlor backstabbing, this is over two and-a-half hours that proves to be too much of a good thing.

Presentationalism can be quite fun, especially with words so carefully and spitefully crafted as these. The story revolves around the nearly saintly Mary Haines (Robyn Allen) and her coven of doting friends: snarky independent novelist Nancy (Cathy Dresbach); sweetly innocent and simpering Peggy (Stacey Kunnari); as well as gossipers Edith (Drathman) and Queen Bee Sylvia (Richardson). Though she’s confident of her marriage, she discovers through the machinations of her friends that her husband has strayed with perfume counter hussy Crystal (Maren MacLean). Ignoring the rather stodgy advice of her well-meaning mother (Carolyn Pain) and dealing with the pain she must deal to her daughter (Elizabeth Chamberlain), she travels for a quickie divorce with a few of her equally burned chums like the not-so-royal Countess (Drea Pruseau) to the Reno roost of Katie McFadzen. When pressed, Mary tests her mettle when she must decide on a showdown that goes against her own loving nature.

Only Phoenix Theatre can pull together an A-list like this of some of the Valley’s brightest actresses. With an all-star team, one expects spectacular. What Withers and his actresses achieve is more of a spectacle. The precise, stylized presentation and blocking keeps Allen and the others at an arm’s length from the audience. Empathy is nearly impossible for the one character with which we are supposed to connect, something quite detrimental to the performance of an emotionally powerful actress like Allen. One senses an uncomfortable air around her as she valiantly plays this stereotype. She offers the requisite frowns and twisted smiles at all the right times, but these can only be performed as written, a disappointment coming from that same actress who weeks before gave possibly the best performance of her career in The Beauty Queen of Leenane. Others such as Drathman, Pruseau, MacLean, Kunnari, and Pain flourish under Withers’ choreographed treachery. Drathman and MacLean especially adorably ape their characters effectively. Even Dresbach and Richardson, actresses proven to have similar power to Allen, find a way to keep humorous their often one-note characters. The hardest part belongs to poor Chamberlain, put in the unenviable position of having to say some of the most awkward children’s dialogue and forced to give a cringe-inducing speech at the end of the first act. Really, would a child of the mid-60s be this sheltered and stilted?

Though the whole group keeps at each other’s throats, the entertainment can’t help but wear thin for those of us raised on 90-minute two-acters. Somewhere around 10:10, with nearly a half hour to go, the bile and intrigue feels overwrought, and there’s nothing that the talented bunch can do about it. I would never dare suggest trimming such an acidic script, but audiences must be aware that they’re in it for the long haul when they take their seats.

This stylish slugfest visually captures the era, from the part-Mondrian, part-Laugh-In inspired set by Richard B. Farlow through Nykol DeDreu’s color-infused lighting to Smith’s great costumes.