Most families seen on stage these days—and, really, seen on stage most days for the past century or two—are achingly dysfunctional. So it’s a delight to encounter one family that functions relatively well.
Kay (Marsha Mason), Lorraine (Brenda Meaney), and Amber (Lauren O’Leary) represent three generations in Elaine Murphy’s three-hander Little Gem, at the Irish Repertory Theatre. And, as tidily directed by Marc Atkinson Borrull, the actors representing the generations do so extremely well.
Not that all is peaches and cream in the Dublin neighborhood where Kay, Lorraine, and Amber live and are introduced in set designer Meredith Ries’ clinical yet welcoming version of a doctor’s waiting room. Amber—the first to begin her tale in a manuscript consisting, for the most part, of intertwining monologues—is unhappy to learn she’s pregnant, thanks to cavalier boyfriend Paul. Her mom, Lorraine, is also not particularly thrilled with her life, having been abandoned by a weak husband sometime earlier.
[Read Michael Sommers’ ★★★★ review here.]
Lorraine’s Mom and Amber’s grandmom Kay, known as Mrs. Neville to the community, is in the office to see about the continuing itchiness she experiences “down there.” The diagnosis, which she’s perfectly comfortable sharing, is stress related. The explanation seems to be related to the sexual activity her husband of 42 years isn’t up to—and for which a vibrator she starts calling “alien willy” is prescribed.
For 100 intermissionless minutes Kay, Lorraine, and Amber talk about their lives over a period of a few years that include a death and a birth—always a reassuring life-cycle stage happenstance. The death is father and grandfather James, thus ending his marriage to mother and grandmother Kay. The birth is Amber’s son James, nicknamed Gem (thereby the little Gem of the title). As for Lorraine, her discontent is improved when she acquires a new boyfriend who, among other pluses, takes her to Paris where they stroll down the Champs-Élysées towards the Louvre.
While hardly breaking dramatic barriers, Little Gem is a straightforward and thoroughly engaging work, thanks to the recognizable episodes Kay, Lorraine and Amber describe as they take turns talking through the fourth wall. Though they remain in, or only briefly leave the waiting room, they chat about any number of events that take place elsewhere. (At one point, Kay even changes into slippers, oddly begging a question about what her slippers are doing by the physician’s coatrack.) Anyway, while the women face everyday challenges, the pleasure of their company is constant.
In large part, the acting also accounts for that pleasure. Meaney, direct from her strong appearance in the Mint’s The Mountains Look Different, and O’Leary, making an off-Broadway debut after an impressive round of performances in England and Wales, take keen command of the stage. Meany does well at Lorraine’s development from sorry about her days to relishing her surprising positive change. O’Leary’s Amber neatly shifts from self-involved teenager to fully involved young mother.
Mason’s turn is eye-opening. It’s not that her talent is an epiphany. It’s that her few recent stage performances have not offered rewards, especially her role in Terrence McNally’s unsuccessful Fire and Air. What’s beneficial is that she has now assumed a role equal to someone who has no less than four Oscar nominations on her résumé.
Kay is a typical mother and wife, and the highlight of Mason’s performance is her portraying someone who, despite her marriage’s pits and valleys, loves her husband and is devastated when she loses him. The extended sequence during which she grieves, most pointedly at his grave, is extraordinary. Incidentally, this occurs sometime after she’s encountered having an unsatisfying vibrator interlude.
These days, there’s plenty to be said for women playwrights and their valuable insights on women’s lives. Add Murphy to the burgeoning list.
Littlre Gem opened July 25, 2019, at the Irish Repertory Theatre and runs through September 1. Tickets and information: irishrep.org