Ann
Reviewed by Iris Mann
Pasadena Playhouse
Through April 24
Recommended
Holland Taylor, who played the sarcastic mother of the two main characters in the television series, Two and a Half Men, virtually owns the stage with her solo, pitch perfect performance as the late, salty, onetime governor of Texas, Ann Richards. Taylor, who also wrote the script for Ann, is reportedly performing the show for the last time, after a successful run on Broadway and in major cities across the country. As Richards, she regales the audience for some two hours with anecdotes about the character’s life and career, laced with the kind of barbed witticisms for which the former governor was famous.
When playing someone that many people may remember, an actor can either try to impersonate the character’s physical look, voice and personality or merely capture an essential quality of the character. Taylor, who completely inhabits the role, has opted for the former as she sports the same crown of white hair that Richards wore, recreates the same physicality and the same gentle southern drawl that enhances her seemingly spontaneous delivery. Costume designer Julie Weiss has tastefully dressed Taylor in an off-white, tailored suit that is becoming and serves as a staple for all the settings depicted in the story.
As the play begins, Richards is giving a commencement speech at a Texas university during which she relates her life history, including her humble beginnings just outside of Waco, Texas, with a mother who was impossible to please and a loving, supportive father. She says he imbued her with a belief that she could do anything she wanted in life, and also imbued her with a penchant for dirty jokes. She married her high school sweetheart, civil rights attorney David Richards, became the “perfect” housewife and an activist, working in support of women running for public office. She talks openly of her past drinking and describes herself in that period as a politically active, functioning alcoholic, adding that, “I know I crossed the line one time going to a costume party dressed as a tampon.” After an intervention by family and friends, she finally went to rehab, “drunk school,” as she calls it.
At the suggestion of her husband, she ran successfully for County Commissioner, but somewhere along the way, her marriage ended. She then became Texas State Treasurer. While holding that office, she delivered a riveting keynote address at the 1988 Democratic convention in Atlanta that catapulted her onto the national political stage. One of Richards’ iconic lines from that speech didn’t make it into this play. Referring to then Vice-President George H.W. Bush, who she implied, didn’t have a genuine Texas accent, Richards said, “Poor George, he can’t help it. He was born with a silver foot in his mouth.”
The convention nominated Michael Dukakis, who lost the presidential race to Bush, but three years later, Richards became Governor of Texas, only the second woman to hold that position.
The play then transfers to Richards’ office as Governor, smartly appointed by set designer Michael Fagin. There Richards juggles the innumerable demands made on her, as she engages in endless phone calls to and from journalists, staff members, her family, and political figures, including President Bill Clinton. We hear only her side of the conversations, but we do hear the voice of her assistant, recorded by Julie White.
Richards peppers the proceedings with spicy one-liners that are often deliciously risqué. Then, at moments she becomes serious as she agonizes over whether or not to stay the execution of a cruelly abused young man who has raped and killed a nun. She also forcefully states her support for such liberal causes as diversity in government, gun control, and a woman’s right to choose whether or not to continue a pregnancy. That issue is particularly relevant, since Texas has recently passed legislation that strips women of control over their reproductive lives.
Director Benjamin Endsley Klein helms the action economically and establishes a lively pace that keeps the banter and the transitions flowing.
As the playwright, Taylor has composed the script skillfully, but the dialogue is sometimes overwritten and could benefit from some judicious trimming. This is especially true near the end, which is anti-climactic, as Richards, who died in 2006 of esophageal cancer, talks of her funeral, presumably from the afterlife. The play could well conclude with the previous section, in which Richards passionately laments this country’s low voter turnout.
But, despite these minor flaws, Taylor treats the audience to a rollicking, informative evening, and a master class in acting.
Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena; Wed. – Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 and 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; Sun., April 24, closing night at 7 p.m. 626-356-7529 or www.pasadenaplayhouse.org or in person at Pasadena Playhouse box office, 39 S. El Molino Ave.; Running time: approximately 2 hours with one intermission.
