It seems to have started out
as a one-person autobiographical
drama but somewhere on the way to Asolo RepÕs mainstage itÕs become a long nightclub comedy
act. Luckily, the comedienne Mary Testa is brilliant, responding to
Michael Donald EdwardsÕ polished direction as if the character Angela isnÕt bleak. If itÕs true, as Edwards
has said, that audiences in Sarasota will identify with herÑwell, a lot
of us are in trouble. Angela not
only goes in angst through a midlife crisis; she ends it by succumbing to the
same need she had for the husband who left her. WeÕre left to hope she wonÕt again be at the mercy of a
philanderer, both self-serving and selfish. (TestaÕs Angela leads us to detest him, not necessarily
to love her but to sympathize with her as a victim.)
Playwright Geraldine Aron,
native Irish but living in London, agreed
to remake Angela to fit Mary TestaÕs talents. Aligning the ÒplayÓ with Asolo RepÕs multi-year
exploration of the American character makes the heroine American (though her phone calls to her mother,
who supposedly has returned from England to living in her native Ireland donÕt fit in well with the adaptation).
Testa portrays the doctor whom hypochondriac Angela keeps busy, her
unsympathetic lawyer, a therapist, even the dreadful exÑmostly vocally
but also by gestures or stance. With the help of Aaron RhyneÕs wonderful projections, she goes through
holidays (via fireworks) and birthdays with various kinds of weather (terrific
rain and falling snow). Her only seen companion is her cutsey (motorized)
terrier Dexter, who soon calls to mind Samuel JohnsonÕs disdain for stage
animals. (By mid Act II, one
longed to render its control really remote.)
There are some moments of
genuine, memorable humor. After
AngelaÕs visit to a sex-toy shop comes the best. It precedes a needed
intermission that breaks up 90 minutes of monologue that Testa, much more than Angela, keeps from being a waste
of time.