The Rep’s Comical Throwback ‘The Cottage’ Is A Dandy, Daffy Delight

The Rep’s Comical Throwback ‘The Cottage’ Is A Dandy, Daffy Delight

By Lynn Venhaus

Sidesplitting hijinks ensue as a marital merry-go-round farce, “The Cottage,” spills the tea and twists a Noel Coward-esque comedy of manners for a female-forward finish.

Now playing through Sept. 28 on the Repertory Theatre of St. Louis’ mainstage, a splendid sextet puts the roar in this Roaring Twenties romp as they gamely carry on in a sophisticated upper-crust British setting.

They deftly deliver standard King’s English dialect – all those ‘darlings,’ ‘indeeds’ and ‘rathers’ – in crisp witty, and a tad cynical, manner (special shout-out to dialect coach Lauren Roth).

Sandy Rustin’s jaunty play effectively depicts complicated relationships among polite society, and the cast’s Swiss-watch timing and nimble silliness combine for a sparkling collaboration that shows off their verbal and physical dexterity. Their flair for slapstick is impressive, as is their limber body language.

The company of “The Cottage.” Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

It all begins one sunny Monday morning in June 1923 at the Van Kipness matriarch’s tony countryside cottage, about 90 minutes outside of London. For seven years, Sylvia and Beau have enjoyed an annual tryst there.

Sylvia happens to be married to Beau’s stuffed-shirt brother Clarke. A hopeless romantic, she has impulsively told Clarke and Beau’s wife Marjorie of their affair so she can get her happily ever after.

That sets off a chain reaction where shocking truths are revealed, more characters are introduced, and doors lead to unexpected entrances and exits. These denizens of the smart set find their private lives upended, along with their carefully cultivated identities.

With this fashionable group, let’s just say love and marriage don’t go together like a horse and carriage, and things are not what they seem. As Coward famously said: “It’s discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit.”

Jihan Haddad and Jack Dryden get frisky as Marjorie and Clarke. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

The remarkable ease with which this cast achieves synergy is a credit to the talents of Andrea San Miguel as the spirited and stylish Sylvia; Jordan Coughtry as the handsome but caddish Beau; Jihan Haddad as the ladylike Marjorie; St. Louis native Jack Dryden as buffoonish Clarke; Isa Venere as ditzy Dierdre; and Andres Enriquez as Richard, best described as a loose cannon.

Rustin, who wrote the hilarious play adaptation of the murder-mystery-comedy “Clue” based on the 1985 movie, is faithful to the British style of drawing-room comedies that skewered the manners and morals of high society – but only up to a point.

In a refreshing move, she has flipped the script on women only being in service to men in these throwback shows. You see the women emerge, speaking about their wants and desires, ultimately taking charge of their own lives.

It has more of a modern sense and sensibility – and most importantly, they get the last laugh. A charming live wire, San Miguel is the perfect embodiment for an awakening, a transformative journey for Sylvia, an intelligent woman stuck in stereotypes of the time.

However, besides her own stamp on Coward’s celebrated writing, Rustin injected the story with more than a month’s worth of soap opera confessions – and those juicy tidbits keep on coming. Must not forget Sam Matthews’ brief appearance as the gardener.

San Miguel and Coughtry as a passionate couple. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

It’s best not to spoil more of the twisty turns the plot took as it unraveled, all at a swift pace. As details unfolded, anxiety ramped up, and rarely was anyone calm, cool and collected – all the better for zaniness.

Director Risa Brainin fluidly directed the chaos, making sure the action had a rhythm, and the well-cast ensemble maintained a pleasing tempo throughout. (Notable nod to casting director Delaney Piggins for assembling this finely tuned machine).

To emphasize their eccentric personalities, Brainin breezily blended them into the well-appointed set and ensured they each stood out when they were the focus.

One inspired segment involved Venere’s exaggerated acrobatic moves as an unconscious Dierdre is awkwardly handled by the others, reminiscent of classic Carol Burnett and Molly Shannon’s zesty physicality.

And this piggybacks on good-sport Haddad handling classy 8-months-pregnant Marjorie’s untimely gas-passing for more goofiness, which she managed with terrific finesse. (And loud guffaws and shrieks from the audience.)

Coughtry, San Miguel, Verare, Dryden and Haddad. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Brainin and scenic designer Robert Mark Morgan, ever mindful of architectural harmony, worked out a floor plan for maximum effect, as characters moved back and forth from the kitchen, the stairs leading to the bedrooms, and the guest room that was offstage, for the main action is in the elegant drawing room.

A focal point is a grand-scale front door with faux stained glass to complement the luxurious setting. Morgan’s exquisitely detailed set is the bee’s knees with its bespoke touches. Michael Klaers’ lighting design illuminates the bright space, with special attention to spotlighting Mama Van Kipness’ stern portrait hung in a prominent place.

Renee Garcia’s posh period costume designs are the cat’s pajamas, with sumptuous fabrics, fancy bathrobes, chic graceful designs, flattering colors, and tasteful tailored menswear and overcoats.  

The wig and makeup design by Dennis Milam Bensie is attractive in vogue styles, well-suited to the characters.

Coughtry, Verare. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Amanda Werre’s exemplary sound design is a necessary mix of victrola music, shower sounds, a weapon discharge – and loud flatulence.

Noteworthy nods to fight director Paul Steger and intimacy director Jamie McKittrick, and to production stage manager Evangeline Rose Whitlock for their astute contributions

As delightful as the performers are and the production’s flawless execution, the running time could be shaved, at least 10 minutes in each act, so that Rustin’s points don’t seem as repetitive. It would help maintain the bubbly mood as the urbane story gets increasingly absurd.

The play is 2 hours, 15 minutes, including a 15-minute intermission.

Andres Enriquez as Richard. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

First produced in 2013 before regional productions, the play had a 2023 debut on Broadway directed by Jason Alexander that starred Eric McCormack, Laura Bell Bundy, Alex Moffat, Lilli Cooper, Dana Steingold and Nehal Joshi in a limited engagement for 111 performances.

The current cast appeared to be having a blast, so it’s easy to imagine how difficult it was to not crack up and keep their composure on stage and during rehearsal, let alone acquire the fleet moves and effortlessly deliver acerbic dialogue in a highly theatrical manner that reflected that era.

If madcap mischief and light-hearted entertainment are your cup of tea, you should plan a getaway to the Loretto-Hilton Center. Scandals are usually never this fun.

The Repertory Theatre of St. Louis presents “The Cottage” Sept. 3-Sept. 28 at the Loretto-Hilton Center on the campus of Webster University, 130 Edgar Road. For tickets or more information, visit www.repstl.org. The box office is available by calling 314-968-4925 and opens two hours prior to curtain time.

Post-show discussions follow the Sunday matinee at 2 p.m. Sept. 14 and the Wednesday matinee Sept. 18.

San Miguel, Coughtry, Haddad, Dryden and Enriquez. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Williams’ Timeless Poetic Realism Is Reconstructed in A Bold, Different ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’

Williams’ Timeless Poetic Realism Is Reconstructed in A Bold, Different ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’

By Lynn Venhaus

A bold, ambitious “A Streetcar Named Desire” is the centerpiece in this year’s 10th annual Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis.

A contemporary interpretation of the playwright’s most iconic work nearly 80 years after his masterpiece stunned Broadway audiences, director Michael James Reed asks us to look at the Pulitzer Prize and Tony-winning drama with fresh eyes. He prefers the term ‘reconstruction’ instead of ‘deconstruction,’ and that is what he delivers.

Already a relic from the past, fading and fragile Southern belle Blanche DuBois arrives at her sister Stella’s doorstep, to stay at her run-down two-room flat. Stella’s brutish working-class husband Stanley Kowalski isn’t aware of her visit and, immediately agitated, locks horns with his attention-seeking sister-in-law.

Over the course of the stifling summer, tempers flare, and Stanley becomes increasingly volatile, his bullying obsessive, while Blanche unravels – her displacement, discomfort and disorders adding to her breakdown. Stanley’s verbal and physical abuse becomes too much, leading to sexual abuse.

Todd D’Amour and Beth Bartley. Suzy Gorman photo.

This doomed power play leaves wreckage from a predator and prey situation, for Blanche appears like a frightened caged animal, her feminine wiles no longer effective.

Her final line, as she clings to a gentle doctor (David Wassilak) escorting her away: “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers” is shattering.

The cast portrays these indelible roles through a lens that is both rooted in Tennessee Williams’ dysfunctional framework and then Reed’s challenge to bring something different to their characterizations.

Some of the choices go outside the lines of our perceptions — with Todd D’Amour’s tightly wound abusive Stanley displaying pathological cruelty, Beth Bartley’s grittier desperate Blanche masking her many indignities, and Isa Venere’s younger Stella enabling and helpless. Think of it as an American horror story in retrospect.

As the local festival has amplified the past 10 years, Williams’ works are about loss in some way – of beauty, love, youth, identity and/or way of life, and this manifests through a range of characters developed during a career spanning 50 years, from the 1930s to his death in 1983 at age 71. After “The Glass Menagerie” made him a rising star in 1944, he opened 14 plays on Broadway from 1947 to 1980.

This is the first time that I really felt Williams’ own torment, of how humiliating it was for him to work with bullies like Stanley at the International Shoe Company during his formative years here, at a time when he was not free to express his sexuality and there was a very specific masculine ‘standard’ in society, not to mention another variation on his beloved sister Rose, mentally challenged at a time it was not understood. His own feelings poured out in these characters.

Looking back today, one sees societal changes colliding in Williams’ most famous work –the new South vs. the past, and women’s evolution regarding gender roles.

Post-war America, during this long, hot summer on Elysian Fields Street, adjacent to the French Quarter of New Orleans, we feel the heat. Sometimes, the atmosphere feels suffocating without any relief, while other times it feels like the tension is so thick and volatile, it could combust.

In that setting, the raw intensity seeps through, revealing harsh truths and emphasizes Williams’ timeless themes of illusion, trauma, power, control, and desire, and when reality hits head-on, how it changes expectations.

Beth Bartley and Isa Venere. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

After the play debuted to a thunderous 7-minute standing ovation on Dec. 3, 1947, it was adapted into an acclaimed Academy Award-winning film in 1951, with three of the four principals reprising their roles– Marlon Brando, Kim Hunter and Karl Malden, but Vivien Leigh as Blanche instead of Jessica Tandy.

Let’s face it, comparisons are inevitable, and “Streetcar” continues to be performed around the globe, never out of view. Andre Previn’s 1998 opera is part of Opera Theatre of St. Louis’ line-up next summer and a 2022 London play revival transferred to off-Broadway earlier this year for a limited run starring acclaimed Irish actor Paul Mescal, who won an Olivier Award as Stanley, and Spanish-British actress Patsy Ferran as Blanche.

The roles are demanding because they can easily go over-the-top into caricatures. After all, their indelible work has been exaggerated into comic archetypes in pop culture for decades.

Bartley’s panicked Blanche reunites with her sister, and Venere’s Stella, goes into caretaker mode, even when she learns that their family estate, Belle Rive in Laurel, Mississippi, has been lost to creditors.

Eric Dean White and Beth Bartley as Mitch and Blanche. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

A traumatized Blanche recalls taking care of their dying relatives without help. She says she has taken a leave of absence from teaching high school literature because her nerves are so frayed. Bartley and Venere share a comfortable chemistry.

Enter suspicious, coarse and crude Stanley. D’Amour isn’t imposing, nor is he articulate. With mumbled lines, he’s hard to understand and harder to relate to, and that’s unfortunate because it throws the balance off.

Stella, caught in the middle, must try to keep the peace between the warring factions, but she is ineffective. She and Stanley share a tempestuous sexual attraction, and his aggressive domestic violence is despicable (never acceptable, no matter what era, but being a batterer fits his offensive personality).

While Stanley seethes, Blanche makes herself at home, languishing in the bathtub, lounging in their shabby quarters, secretly drinking, and putting on her Southern Belle airs.

With her fanciful ways, she attracts an admirer — Stanley’s war buddy and poker-playing friend, Harold “Mitch” Mitchell (Eric Dean White), a bachelor who lives with his ailing mother. A raging Stanley will destroy that tender union after uncovering Blanche’s scandalous secrets back home.

Photo by Suzy Gorman

Trembling like an older, needier Judy Garland, whom she resembles, and acting delusional like the moody narcissistic Norma Desmond in “Sunset Boulevard,” Bartley is heart-breaking living out a fantasy life while she is clearly in decline. Now that we know more about mental health, it’s obvious Blanche has Histrionic Personality Disorder.

It’s a devastating portrait, and she also reveals a skilled manipulator, who has managed to survive using the theatrical tools in her toolbox.

As Mitch, White shows his sweet side, and two lonely people find comfort in each other. She’s flirtatious while she tells tall tales, and he’s smitten. When he confronts Blanche with what he’s discovered about her many liaisons and seductions in her hometown, though, his anger is visible – he’s done with being a nice guy.

The other supporting characters are lived-in examples of the area – top-shelf veterans Emily Baker and Isaiah DiLorenzo are their loud neighbors (and landlords) Eunice and Steve, who live upstairs. DiLorenzo and Wassilak are the two cast members that were in the festival’s award-winning 2018 “Streetcar” production.

Jeremiah King is a young collector, Cedric Leiba Jr. is another poker player, and Gwynneth Rausch is a nurse. Offstage, Jocelyn Padilla voices a flower collector. She also served as the intimacy coordinator. Jack Kalan was the fight choreographer.

Both Matthew McCarthy’s moody lighting design and Phillip Evans’ sound design are strong in this production, with dramatic illuminations and a discordant cacophony and jazzy-blues music adding to the atmosphere.

Two elements puzzled me. For a story that emphasizes claustrophobia in such small quarters, the set design did not appear so. Patrick Huber favored a nod to mid-century modern décor, with a neon palette more suited to another era or pre-school, that was stretched out on the Grandel stage.

Shevare Perry’s costume design for most of the cast worked fine, but Blanche’s daytime outfits appeared misfitting and Stella’s pants in the opening scene were jarring. Blanche’s flouncy nightgowns and bright red satin robe were just right.

Perhaps those choices were all in keeping with tossing out pre-conceived notions for this production.

Set design by Patrick Huber, lighting design by Matthew McCarthy. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

“A Streetcar Named Desire” maintains its power in Williams’ vivid poetic realism and lyrical dialogue that continues to captivate. While I prefer more emotionally charged character renderings, which was what Blanche aimed for, instead of a detached one like Stanley and Stella, these were choices made for a different take. In real life, D’Amour and Bartley are married.

Williams’ view of outsiders, of deeply flawed humans, continues to resonate some 80 years later, and that’s worth celebrating.

The Tennessee Williams Festival presents “A Streetcar Named Desire” Aug. 7 – 17 at the Grandel Theatre in Grand Center. For more information, visit www.twstl.org

Blanche DuBois (Beth Bartley). Photo by Suzy Gorman.

Two Bravura Performers Blaze Bright in The Rep’s Dynamic ‘Athena’

Two Bravura Performers Blaze Bright in The Rep’s Dynamic ‘Athena’

By Lynn Venhaus

For a small show, “Athena” packs a mighty punch. Set in the specific world of competitive fencing, the 75-minute two-hander is a remarkable achievement for a fierce pair of young actresses whose skill and timing are paramount to the show’s success.

Led with a deft hand and an acute ear by director Nancy Bell, “Athena” tells a slice-of-life story between two 17-year-old athletes as they train for national competition, with the goal of qualifying for the Junior Olympics.

A third character, Jamie (Carmen Cecelia Retzer), is seen briefly near the end.

The worldlier Athena (Isa Venere) appears to have the upper hand in this rivals dynamic, while studious Mary Wallace (Jaelyn Genyse) for all her bravado, is more insecure and sheltered.

Both ambitious and driven, they have teamed up to practice together after school – Athena lives in the city while Mary Wallace commutes from Teaneck, N.J. They have spent so much of their lives competing that they don’t make friends easily, but a bond, no matter how bumpy, forms based on mutual respect and admiration. They push each other and accept nothing but their best. Much is riding on their success and their future.

Jaelyn Genyse and Isa Venere/ Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Athena, aka Darby Schlossberg, has named herself after the Greek mythological goddess of wisdom and warfare, known for heroic endeavors. She projects confidence, and a  command of the sport, but her life skills aren’t as developed yet. They both crave experiences but have devoted themselves to the goal of making it as far as they can in the sport.

Playwright Gracie Gardner’s nimble dialogue is matched by the actresses’ physical agility as they realistically banter and spar. It’s as if we are eavesdropping on two teenagers and their Gen Z viewpoints, frustrations and assessments of their daily routines.

Laced with humor, hormonal angst and that age group’s never-ending melodramas, “Athena” pops with personality and pizzazz.

The tremendous amount of work involved in mounting this show can’t be overstated – what a monumental task for all involved. With its warrior attitude, this intimate 2018 play is a good fit for the Steve Woolf Studio Series

Isa Venere as Athena. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Venere and Genyse are flawless in their natural portrayals, conveying appealing vitality as their characters and handling physicality with grace and aplomb. They appear to be well-trained in this ancient sport, and much credit goes to Fight Director Paul Steger and Fencing Consultant Annamaria Lu.

Seth Howard’s set design of a rectangular “piste” is functional and formatted for an in-the-round experience, while Jayson M Lawshee’s lighting design suits the competition and training demands.

Sound designer Jimmy Bernatowicz keeps the fast-paced action at a lively clip, interspersing contemporary dance hits to pump up the energy. Costume designer Renee Garcia outfits the pair in their practice and competitive uniforms, one recognizable through her neon orange shoes and the other by her colorful socks.

With bravura lead performances, this coming-of-age journey of self-discovery is a compelling look at girls trying to grab the brass ring, and ways female friendships are put to the test.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Jaelyn Genyse as Mary Wallace. Photo by Jon Gitchoff

The Repertory Theatre of St. Louis presents “Athena” by Grace Gardner Jan. 15 through Feb. 9 “Performances take place in the Emerson Studio Theatre of the Loretto-Hilton Center on the Webster University campus. This production lasts 75 minutes without intermission. It contains strobe lights, strong language, and is recommended for ages 16 and up. For more information: www.repstl.org.

Mary Wallace and Athena (Jaelyn Genyse and Isa Venere. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Fierce Performances Elevate Masterpiece ‘August: Osage County’

Fierce Performances Elevate Masterpiece ‘August: Osage County’

By Lynn Venhaus

Tracy Letts’ “August: Osage County” retains all its dark edges, biting wit and unflinching truths in a brilliantly acted and thoroughly engrossing interpretation by The Repertory Theatre of St. Louis that enhances its stature as one of the great American plays.

Produced 17 years after its blistering and probing landmark premiere at the Steppenwolf Theatre in Chicago in 2007, the Pulitzer Prize and Tony-winning play taps into the raw emotions of a family scorched by addiction and dysfunction.

A brittle mosaic of family dynamics exposes how nearly all have been burned by their white-hot proximity to drug abuse, emotional abuse, alcoholism, unhealthy relationships, and mental health issues.

(I think more people can relate than may admit, but also the play can be triggering for some, so warning, and understandable; there are resources to call listed at the Rep.)

To play these distinctive, damaged characters, this seamless large cast (13!) has developed an admirable rhythm with each other that shows facets of their personalities while revealing their vulnerabilities and coping mechanisms. They are fooling only themselves (and are they that unaware?)

Ellen McLaughlin is Violet Weston. Photo by Jon Gitchoff

Because of Letts’ extraordinary insight into the human condition and his exceptionally nimble dialogue, these are some of the meatiest roles of the new millennium.

“They” always say write what you know, and Letts based this play on his maternal grandparents. Charlie Chaplin once said, “Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long shot,” and Letts knows that all too well. He is also a gifted humorist, seeing life from both sides.

A window into his family’s soul, Letts skillfully outlined characters that these well-cast current actors have shaded into fully dimensional people that make us think, feel, and connect – and recoil, disengage from, and are horrified by, too.

The ensemble does not strive for black-and-white definitions, but rather leans towards the more fascinating gray areas, which make their thoughtful, layered performances convincing.

Front and center is the ferocious, drug-addled matriarch Violet, who reminds everyone ‘nothing gets by’ her but is often in such a stupor from popping prescription painkillers that she is most unpleasant to deal with in any meaningful way. Suffering from mouth cancer, she is also a heavy drinker and smoker. Her paranoia and mood swings are alarming, and she often cruelly targets anyone in her radar.

The Westons and Aikens. Photo by Jon Gitchoff

Sometimes, she waits until she can unleash the hurt for maximum effect. Ravaged by her demons, visible are the metaphorical open wounds from an impoverished, abusive childhood that will never heal.

Ellen McLaughlin’s virtuoso performance as this complicated wife, mother, sister, and vicious addict left me in awe. She flawlessly bristles with various degrees of impairment, then rambles or snipes, all in a rural Southwest accent. She’s haunting and unforgettable, among the pantheon of astounding actresses who have graced The Rep’s thrust stage.

The role, in many ways, can be compared to Mary Tyrone in Eugene O’Neill’s magnum opus “Long Day’s Journey into Night,” published posthumously in 1956, which dared to address a matriarch’s addiction and its ripple effect on a family.

The main story is that Violet’s husband, Beverly (Joneal Joplin), an alcoholic poet and former college professor, has gone missing. Their 30-year toxic relationship has resulted in two of their three daughters escaping to live elsewhere –Barbara (Henny Russell) in Colorado and Karen (Yvonne Woods) in Florida. Ivy (Claire Karpen) stayed in their small town but lives on her own.

After several days go by, family members return to the fold, with fireworks ensuing in a large country home outside Pawhuska, Okla., 60 miles northwest of Tulsa. The time period is a hot dusty August 2007.

Henny Russell and Michael James Reed. Photo by Jon Gitchoff

The adult daughters are played by three equally strong actresses, and even if you didn’t know what order they were in, you’d figure it out quickly – Barbara, the controlling eldest can’t keep her own life from falling apart (fight); Ivy, the unfulfilled middle child (froze); and self-absorbed Karen (flight). They are all keeping secrets about their relationships. Their family hierarchy roars here.

Barbara is separated from Bill (Michael James Reed), a college professor whose infidelity has caused a riff, but they are going through the motions in front of the family. They have brought their 14-year-old daughter Jean (Isa Venere) along, and she’s ready to burst out of a cocoon like most teenage girls.

In a mother-daughter chat, Barbara wisely tells Jean: “Thank God we can’t tell the future, or we’d never get out of bed.” It’s just one of Letts’ lines of astute dialogue that the audience responds to, recognizing themselves.

Bill is an ingrained family member, clearly respected by Violet, and considered a rock by others, and Reed straddles that turmoil without losing Bill’s humanity. Tightly wound Russell immediately indicates Barbara’s lifelong pattern of confrontations with her overbearing mother.

Breezing in from Miami, flighty Karen has a new fiancé in tow, thrice-married Steve (Brian Slaten), giving off a vibe as a player — yet Slaten takes his time bringing out his inner creep. Woods, as Karen, appears to not grasp the seriousness of the family’s despair (or is unwilling to do so).

Sean Wiberg and Claire Karpen. Photo by Jon Gitchoff

Introverted Ivy shields her personal life, and Karpen heartbreakingly expresses how disconnected she is from her sisters. Violet is always finding fault with her actions and appearance.

The Aikens arrive, and they are the Westons’ extended family. Hardened Mattie Fae (Astrid Van Wieren) is Violet’s blustery sister, and she’s nagged Charlie (Alan Knoll) over the years. He’s a decent guy who puts up with a lot, valued Beverly’s friendship. Their downtrodden son, Little Charles (Sean Wiberg), incurs Mattie Fae’s ire at every opportunity while Charlie sticks up for his sensitive boy.

Van Wieren and Knoll are remarkably sturdy in their roles, bringing out qualities I hadn’t noticed in three prior productions. Knoll is the lynchpin here, and it’s such a deftly delivered performance, crisp in its comic timing, and gut-wrenching in its ruefulness. Long a veteran actor, this just may be Knoll’s finest hour (or three).

Van Wieren may look familiar if you have seen “Come from Away” on Broadway (or the Apple TV+ filmed production) – she played Beulah starting in 2017. She shows how loudly Mattie Fae’s buttons are pushed, but also why she’s like she is.

The observer here is quiet but smart Johnna (Shyla Lefner), a kind and considerate Native American woman from the Cheyenne tribe, who Beverly hired as a live-in housekeeper. She becomes a steadfast, reliable presence, witness to the never-ending dramas, and intervening only when necessary. Nonjudgmental, she endures Violet’s haughty diatribes and harsh commentary.

Henny Russell and Isa Venere. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

In the brief role of Sheriff Deon Gilbeau, Barbara’s old high school boyfriend, David Wassilak, makes it his own with clear-eyed compassion.

This cast is so riveting that you do not feel the play’s 3-hour and 20-minute runtime. When the second intermission happened, I thought “already?” That’s how enthralling this show is.

Directed by Amelia Acosta Powell, she understands the agitations and anguish of this family, and brings out the many levels of pain. There is a specific ebb and flow she achieves, and what culminates in the disruptive family dinner post-memorial service is one of the all-time jaw-dropping segments in live theater.

I do have a few quibbles about blocking, particularly building intensity between Barbara and Violet – I prefer a closer proximity to be more effective, but it shows how a family that ignores the elephant in the room will always have it blow up in their faces at some point.

The Americana musical interludes composed by Avi Amon help establish the setting, while Amanda Werre’s smooth and perceptible sound design is her customary top-notch work. At first, lighting designer Xavier Pierce’s work was too dark, but gradually evened out according to the action, and the shadows are an extension of the house’s buried secrets.

Venere, Russell, Reed and Brian Slaten. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Scenic Designer Regina Garcia fashioned a large interior, with some exterior nooks, using classic American furniture, but the shingles on a portion of the rooms inside were puzzling (I know, imagery, not literal)..

Sonia Alvarez’s contemporary costume design for casual attire suits the characters and the period, and the mourning outfits are spot-on, especially Violet’s black dress – reflecting what she used to look like before hard living took its toll. Noteworthy is Alison Hora’s wig design too.

Also notable is Michael Pierce’s fight choreography and Rachel Tibbetts’ and Will Bonfiglio’s intimacy coordinator work.

Shakespearean in tone and temperament, but truly an American masterpiece for the 21st century, Letts’ ruminations on life’s passages, aging, blood ties, and identity above all reflect on humanism.

While families can pour their own gasoline on deep-rooted issues without any assistance in real-life (and there are those who don’t see the need to pick at the scabs of their past), this retelling has an energy and an electricity that only the most genuine experiences can achieve, catharsis optional.

Letts has superbly blended the sharp wit of an observational humorous sitcom/stand-up special with the emotional turbulence of lively soap operas to expertly craft a relatable family in crisis.

Gloria Steinem said, “the healing is in the telling,” and it is my hope “August: Osage County” reaches people who may be in a painful place, who may leave with a modicum of hope, because if anything, we are not alone.

And no matter how regretful or defeated others are by their actions, the play says they are not us, and that trajectory can change. The Weston-Aiken clan holds a mirror up that is sharply in focus.

Shyla Lefner, McLaughlin and Russell in front. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

The Repertory Theatre of St. Louis presents “August: Osage County” from March 19 to April 7 at the Loretto-Hilton Center, 130 Edgar Road, St. Louis.

Tickets: Purchase tickets online at Repstl.org, by phone at 314-968-4925, or The Rep Box Office will also be available for in-person support at the Loretto-Hilton Center Tuesdays and Wednesdays from 10:30 a.m. – 5 p.m. and 2 hours before curtain.
Rush Tickets: Available for students, seniors, educators, and theatre professionals by calling the Box Office at 314-968-4925, 1 – 2 hours prior to curtain time.

Audio-Described Performance: Thursday, April 4 at 7 pm – the show will be described for patrons who are blind or have low vision.

ASL Performance: Saturday, March 30 at 4 pm – the show will be signed for the deaf or hard of hearing.

Open-Captioned Performance: Sunday, April 7 at 2 pm – an electronic text ticker displays words being spoken or sung onstage.

Post Show Discussions follow Saturday, March 30 at 4 pm and Wednesday, April 3 at 2 pm performances.