HER LIFE AS A DOG
MISS WITHERSPOON
Directed by Christopher Schario; written by Christopher DurangWith: Janet
Mitchko, Robyne Parrish, Shelia Stasack, Dale Place, and Letecia Eulalee
Moore
At the Public Theatre in Lewiston, Maine
From March 16 to March 25, 2007
Reviewed by Laurie Meunier Graves
It is
always dangerous to ascribe intent to someone else, especially a writer, but
it seems fairly safe to assert that Christopher Durang, the creator of
Miss Witherspoon, thinks we humans are going to heck in a handbasket.
Indeed, in the very first scene of Miss Witherspoon, in production at
the Public Theatre in Lewiston, Maine, the sky (lab) literally falls, and a
scampering Chicken Little, looking like a frenetic cousin of Sesame Street’s
Big Bird, runs to and fro in panic. The falling Skylab is the not so subtle
symbol in this not very subtle play of the many horrors, both within and
without, that confront us on a daily basis. Throw in 9/11, failed
relationships, and Rex Harrison, and it’s no wonder that Veronica, the
reluctant protagonist, is relieved to be dead and away from it all. Gloomy
and depressed, Veronica would seem to be in agreement with literature’s most
famous melancholy character, to whom the world was “weary, stale, flat, and
unprofitable.” However, unlike Hamlet, Veronica has been more than willing
to make the leap into “The undiscover’d country,” and we soon learn that she
has killed herself.
Sadly
for Veronica, there is no peace in the afterlife, either. Maryamma,
Veronica’s spiritual guide, has rather unkindly dubbed her “Miss
Witherspoon,” comparing her to a tiring character in an Agatha Christie
novel. Worse yet, Maryamma wants Miss Witherspoon to reincarnate, to
continue her journey around the wheel of life, to evolve. For her part, Miss
Witherspoon just wants to be left alone, or, even better, sent to the
anesthetic part of the afterlife, where atheists such as Sartre and Camus
reside.
But,
no, no, no. It’s back to Earth for Miss Witherspoon—even though she
willfully resists—where she gets several stints as a baby as well as a turn
as a dog, which turns out to be the best one of all. (This comes as no
surprise to those of us who love dogs.) In between are lectures, lessons
reluctantly learned, and a diatribe against Christianity. Fortunately,
Jesus, in the form of a black woman, makes an appearance and sets Miss
Witherspoon straight.
For the
first two thirds of the play, Durang gives us the goofy but amiable story of
a grumpy, alarmed spirit who could indeed use a spiritual lesson or two in
how to cope and calm down. While these goals might seem modest, they are not
that easy to achieve in real life, and most theatergoers are more than
willing to follow a character through the inevitable ups and downs of
enlightenment, however small. The humor in Miss Witherspoon might be
silly rather than witty, but the play moves along at a decent clip.
The
problem comes in the last part of the play, where we are asked to believe
that tweedy, glum Miss Witherspoon has not only evolved beyond her former,
melancholy self but has also evolved enough to become the world’s savior.
Unfortunately, Miss Witherspoon just doesn’t have enough spark, heft, or zip
to carry the weight of the world, and it feels as though the playwright has
just marched his character through the plot with little regard for the
qualities she presents. As a result, the ending feels forced and
unsatisfying, leaving this member of the audience to reflect that Miss
Witherspoon isn’t the only willful one associated with the play.
Despite
the play’s unsatisfying ending, the Public Theatre did a good job with
Miss Witherspoon. Janet Mitchko broadly portrayed the cranky Miss
Witherspoon, and she achieved some fine comic moments, especially when she
played either a dog or a baby. Robyne Parrish was terrific as the lovely,
serene but critical Maryamma, a guide in a sari who was certainly not all
sweetness and light. Letecia Eulalee Moore was credible as Jesus, and the
floppy white hat and heels did not in the least interfere with her
authority. The set had an airy cosmic feel, completely in keeping with
New-Age notions of the afterlife.
Based
on the audience’s reaction, the laughter and clapping, Miss Witherspoon
seemed to be a crowd-pleaser. Clearly, the journey was more important
than the destination. A lesson in itself, perhaps?
