The new play about legendary screen actress Ava Gardner is entitled Ava: The Secret Conversations, but it would have played much better as Ava: The Monologue. That’s because Elizabeth McGovern (Downton Abbey), who both wrote and stars in the play based on the posthumously published book of the same name by Gardner and journalist Peter Evans, has done herself a disservice by sharing the spotlight. Her Gardner plays second fiddle to Aaron Costa Ganis as Evans, whose annoying angst about his assignment consumes far too much stage time. This is the rare theatrical evening that you would have preferred as a one-person play.
The story is told from Evans’ perspective, as he argues with his agent (an unseen Chris Thorn) about ghostwriting Gardner’s autobiography when he’d much rather be working on his novel. Nonetheless, he visits the aging actress in her elegant London apartment, where she’s still struggling to recover from a stroke. Not that her infirmity prevents her from copiously drinking and smoking, and swearing like a longshoreman.
Evans, who considers the job beneath him, proposes that they start her story from the beginning, with her modest upbringing in rural North Carolina. The ever-savvy Gardner has a better idea, namely leading off the book with an account of her current health issues, including having to learn how to control her bladder again.
[Read David Finkle’s ★★☆☆☆ here.]
“The irony of a Hollywood screen goddess peeing her pants? They’ll love it,” she says.
Sadly, McGovern doesn’t possess the same degree of savviness as her subject, bogging down the play with far too much emphasis on the journalist who never comes across as anything other than annoying. Ganis is also saddled with the impossible task of playing not only Evans, but also her three husbands, Mickey Rooney, Artie Shaw, and Frank Sinatra, in various scenes in which the tumultuous relationships are sketchily depicted. At one point, he’s even forced to imitate Sinatra singing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” for no apparent reason. In the scene in which he plays Sinatra, he spends most of the time hurling threats and obscenities at the photographers in the street.
McGovern delivers a capable performance, laced with dark humor, with Gardner flirting provocatively with her interviewer and reflecting ruefully on the failed relationships in her life, including one with Howard Hughes. But she’s never quite convincing as the legendary beauty, and the writing, even if presumably taken from Gardner’s own words, fails to provide much depth or illumination. By the time the play’s 85 minutes (which feel much longer) are over, we don’t really feel like we’ve learned anything substantial about Gardner’s life and career. At one point she suddenly utters the title of one of her films, Mogambo, helpfully explaining, “Clark Gable and Grace Kelly. John Ford. Cranky bastard.” And we’re left going, wait, what?
The play’s structure proves less than sturdy as well, with Evans frequently engaging in argumentative conversations with his agent, who urges him to ask Gardner about such things as Sinatra’s penis. And the flashbacks, in which we see Gardner engaging with her famous husbands, are so confusingly interwoven with the present day that you’re not always sure what’s happening.
Director Moritz von Stuelpnagel (Hand to God) does his best to inject theatricality into the static proceedings via projections (designed by Alex Basco Koch), featuring photographs and film footage of Gardner and the men in her life. But despite his and McGovern’s best efforts, Ava: The Secret Conversations should have been left on the bookshelf.
Ava: The Secret Conversations opened August 7, 2025, at City Center Stage I and runs through September 14. Tickets and information: avagardnerplay.com
