The Madwoman

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

The more things change, the more they stay the same. The 1942 comic French revolution play by Jean Giraudoux, The Madwoman of Chaillot, takes on the rich and powerful overbearing ruthless leaders in Paris with an unlikely heroine, the Madwoman. Maurice Valency plucked the fantasy out of the streets of Paris, burying it deep in the heart of New York City. Still humorous, still a fantasy, but under the astute direction of Israel Hicks, 29 actors transforms the Space Theatre in the Bonfils Complex at the DCPA into a breath-of-fresh-air-wouldn’t-it-be-lovely-make believe tale of a self-appointed, free-style glamour woman who wears boxing gloves on her tongue to give her words an extra punch. In a gray wig, flowing garments, and boots Kathleen Brady wraps herself in discarded glamour to organize the elite of New York’s homeless, as Countess Aurelia, Madwoman of Tribeca.

Kathleen M. Brady in the title role of The Madwoman, the Denver Center Theatre Company’s New York City setting of the Jean Giraudoux French classic.

A Senator (Jamie Horton) and a CEO (John Hutton) meet for a power moment at a sidewalk café. With intermittent irritating interruptions by a Street Vendor, Bicycle Messenger, a Street Singer, Rag Picker, Deaf Mute, and Break Dancer, the CEO oils words of nonsense to woo the Senator to join his corporation. For the Senator to get hard-core information on what the corporation does becomes a dance of greased lightening. From a Geological Engineer (Bill Christ), they skewer a plot into their brains believing oil lies in wait under the streets of New York City for the cunning to extract. Of course, extracting the oil would destroy the city, but the greedy, devious, and ruthless businessmen could care less. There’s no one to stop them, so they think.

They have not considered the power and weight behind the boots of Countess Aurelia, the Madwoman of Tribeca. Organizing comes natural to this woman who lives comfortably in a tunnel from discards. When she learns of the upheaval, she wonders why no one has done anything, and hands out instructions and orders to her compatriots.

On a set designed by Michael Brown, the large cast brings colorful characters happily to life.

Hutton, Horton and Christ oil their lips with greased gluttony, the Bicycle Messenger (Justin Walvoord) zips from one entrance to another, the Flower Seller (Robynn Rodriguez) takes her craft seriously, not liking to take no for an answer, the Deaf Mute (Terrence Riggins) comprehends with silenced ears but with an active brain, the Break Dancer (Laurence A. Curry) gives an awesome performance. Keith Hatten skewers his face as the Rag Picker, sliding poignancy into the fantasy of smiles. The busyness of a New York street plunks itself down on the Space Theatre Stage. The eyes dance to catch the tiniest innuendo of each character’s blatant and subtle movements. It’s a sea of color, scheming, gestures, and clownish distractive antics, orchestrated by Hicks to play a symphony of fantasy.

Clothed as a Sewer Man, Mark Rubald, double talks with precision his way through questions by Aurelia, giving her a secret to the tunnels that fit beautifully in her plan. A clandestine meeting with Constance, Madwoman of Upper East Side, (Robin Moseley), Gabrielle, Madwoman of Harlem, and Josephine, Madwoman of Upper East Side, (Annette Helde), seals the plan to rid New York of its threat.

Rich with calculated cutting, sharp-edged humor, Aurelia’s plan to ride the city of destruction rides the subway tunnels with simplicity, making sure everyone has a specific job. The huge cast breaths life, heart and soul into every character, making them as real as those who walk the streets. Aurelia plugs her simple plan with power under the conviction “Nothing is ever so wrong in this world that a sensible woman can’t set it straight in the course of an afternoon.”

Imagination scratched Aurelia’s brain with pragmatic thoughts bouncing to life on rubber legs of action. Endowed in our world of complexity, imagination always scratches the brain always looking for rubber legs of action, in fantasy and poignancy.

On his last Hoorah, what a gift Donovan Marley, artistic director of the DCTC for the last 22 years, has given the City of Denver. The rustle of the Madwoman’s skirts will be felt long after Brady hangs up her flowing garments for the last time.