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| Teresa Wentzel as Winifred & Mary Ann Johnson as Myrah in In the Restroom at Rosenbloom’s. Photo courtesy of Little Colonel Playhouse. |
In the
Restroom at Rosenbloom’s
Written
by Ludmilla Bollow
Directed
by Nancy Hoover
Reviewed
by Cristina Martin
Entire
contents copyright © 2012 Cristina Martin. All rights reserved.
Before
I tell you what a lovely time can be had by all In the Restroom at Rosenbloom’s, a word of explanation is in
order:
Those
of us of a certain age will remember well the heyday of the urban department
store. Before discount chains and
sprawling suburban malls, department stores were where you shopped for most everything
from gowns to girdles, from hats to cufflinks to fine perfume. You could get your hair done in the
store’s salon and even have a bite to eat in the restaurant. And if you needed a rest, well, there
was the restroom.
I
can’t speak for the men’s facilities, but as for the ladies’ – it was more than
just toilet stalls. The prosaic
part of the restroom was preceded by an anteroom with cushy chairs arranged in
conversation groups (sometimes they tended on the faux gilded, fancy-looking
side), innocuous but pleasant decorations on the walls, mirrors, ashtrays,
tissues, complimentary coffee – and at almost any given time, a handful of ladies,
shopping bags at hand, taking a breather.
Some were quiet, some were chatty, some wore garish makeup, some
muttered to themselves… As a
little girl in the ’70s, I remember vividly this cast of characters. I was familiar with them only in
passing, as my mother and I never tarried for long. Happily, however, The Little Colonel Players allow us to get
to know some of these ladies in greater depth via a delightful production of Ludmilla
Bollow’s In the Restroom at Rosenbloom’s,
the last show of Little Colonel’s regular 2011-2012 season.
Longtime
friends Myrah (Mary Ann Johnson), Violet (Betty Zielinski) and Winifred (Teresa
Wentzel) meet regularly in Rosenbloom’s restroom to visit and share news of
their lives. The play takes place
on May 1, 1970, and like the aging department store itself, they bear the
traces of the passage of time.
Sweet and polite Violet is struggling to make ends meet, sometimes
making do without electricity at home and agonizing about whether to sell her
favorite doll to an antique dealer to pay the bills. Fragile, romantic Winifred lives in the past, still waiting
after 30 years for her husband to come home from the war. And Myrah…Myrah tells it like it is with hilarious candor and some
resounding words of wisdom.
The
complication comes when Winifred gets word that her perennially mean sister,
Clare (Nancy Hoover), is planning to take her on a “vacation” (read: put her in
a nursing home) from which she’ll never return, much as Clare did to their
mother years ago. Winifred may not
have the firmest grip on reality, but she certainly is not ready for this, and
her friends are ready to defend her against Clare with all they’ve got. What ensues crosses age and gender
lines to be poignant and amusing to audiences of any stripe.
It’s
challenging to keep long periods of dialogue among the same three characters fresh
and engaging, but this cast manages to do it. Displaying excellent expression and timing, the three main
players shine equally and in balance; these are clearly very talented actors. Mary Ann Johnson has us rolling in the
aisles with her perfect delivery of lines like “Hell, I’ve had three husbands
and I’m still lookin’ for another
one!” and her description of the ex whose boxer shorts she’s wearing (because they’re
so much more comfortable than a
girdle and stockings). How ironic that “Old Elevator Pants Charlie” had underwear
that said Semper Fidelis! With her brightly painted face and wraparound
print dress, Johnson stands and moves solidly, as if to say, "This is who I am
-- take it or leave it." Myrah may
not be genteel, but she does have some good life lessons to impart, such as,
“Past is past – you gotta go where the action is!” and “People don’t need
keepers. They need people to show
them the joys in life.” These
messages may be a little too spelled out for some tastes, but they work within
the tenor and context of the play.
In
contrast to Myrah, Violet is very well mannered. Dressed from head to toe in – yes – shades of the color violet,
Betty Zielinski plays a sweet and genuinely caring friend. Myrah reproaches her for being too
meek, however, and for always being bound just a little too tightly by the
rules of decorum. Zielinski brings
out tenderly and humorously how this criticism hits home for Violet. We see the mixture of emotions as she
tries a little boldness on for size and then surprises even herself when,
having a cause to fight for, she comes out of her shell.
Teresa
Wentzel delivers a stellar performance as Winifred. Fair and ethereal, she virtually floats into the restroom in
her canary-yellow wedding dress from years ago, toting her birdcage. May 1st is her anniversary, and she and
her birds are off to the zoo, a place that holds fond memories for Winifred of
her husband Henry. Wentzel’s
vibrant facial expressions reflect joyful delirium and abject terror equally
well. Gradually, Winifred’s
girlish dreaminess gives way to an acceptance of reality and, with her friends’
support, to confident defiance of the one she has feared since childhood.
And
that one, of course, is the infamous Clare (Nancy Hoover). It is definitely not easy being director
and actor in the same production, but Hoover does it with aplomb. After Winifred’s monstrous description
of her, she seems almost too nice when we first meet her, but that’s only
because she hasn’t put two and two together and realized who Myrah and Violet
are. Once it dawns that they’re
Winifred’s loyal friends, prepared to help her defy Clare’s plans, the real
Clare comes out with a vengeance.
Hoover plays a good rough-’n’-tough bully in rabbit skin shoes (a tool
for her dog training business at Clare’s Canine Campus). Her voice and body language create a
big presence, and yet, when Winifred stands up to her, she seems to deflate in
our eyes, too.
Not
to be left out are Jodi Geise, Jane Burke and Madeline Kinser, who play store
patrons who happen to pass in and out of the restroom at various points
throughout the play. Their varied
and colorful costumes provide a great ’70s feel, and their wordless reactions
to what they see and hear are priceless.
Most memorable were the eye-rolls of the patron who really needs to use the
toilet, which is unavailable because Winifred is in the process of arranging
her wedding dress!
As
director, Hoover has choreographed a seamless show whose blocking seems natural
and makes great use of the clever set designed by Bill Baker. Everything has an authentic feel, from
the cracks in the walls of the restroom to the old-fashioned radiator in the
corner. A big window upstage that
opens onto a roof is a very creative element that lends itself to some great
physical humor as well.
So,
do such tales of loyalty and self-realization take place in the Men’s room at
Macy’s, too? I guess I’ll never
know. But all are invited to see
what goes on In the Restroom at
Rosenbloom’s. This remarkable
cast of The Little Colonel Players will have you laughing for sure, and they
might even make you tear up a little bit. But don’t worry.
You’ve come to the right place for tissues.
In the
Restroom at Rosenbloom’s
Remaining
performances:
June
15 & 16 at 8 p.m.
June
17 at 2:30 p.m.
The
Little Colonel Players
302
Mount Mercy Drive
Crestwood,
KY 40014
Tickets:
(502) 588-1557
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