Writer/performer Barra Grant in Miss America’s Ugly Daughter: Bess Myerson & Me at the Greenway Court Theatre. (Photo by Darrett Sanders)
Writer/performer Barra Grant in Miss America’s Ugly Daughter: Bess Myerson & Me at the Greenway Court Theatre. (Photo by Darrett Sanders)

Miss America’s Ugly Daughter: Bess Myerson & Me

Reviewed by Iris Mann
Edgemar Center for the Arts
Extended through August 4

RECOMMENDED

Barra Grant’s beautifully constructed, autobiographical play depicts the difficulty and pain that frequently goes along with being the child of an admired, accomplished icon. The work is also an exploration of a mother-daughter relationship. Now at Greenway Court, the show previously had a successful run at The Edye at the Broad Stage in Santa Monica.

Grant, the playwright/performer, is the offspring of Bess Myerson, the first and only Jewish woman to be named Miss America. Myerson was crowned in 1945. As Grant has drawn her, probably with a bit of exaggeration for theatrical effect, she was egotistical, narcissistic and obsessed with her own beauty, while critical of and dismissive towards her daughter. From a poor family in the Bronx, Myerson was a product of the Depression; Grant depicts her as extremely concerned with money and given to pilfering “souvenirs” from airplanes and restaurants.

Myerson’s own mother disapproved of pageants, saying that Jewish girls don’t enter beauty contests. But Myerson was an accomplished musician and wanted the pageant scholarship money. She had graduated with honors from Hunter College (and subsequently did graduate with degrees from Julliard and Columbia University).

After winning the contest, the Jewish Miss America encountered rabid anti-Semitism on her tour when three of the competition’s five sponsors refused to have her as their spokesperson. She did garner a positive national image by traveling the country on behalf of the Anti-Defamation League and speaking out against discrimination. She subsequently became an author, television personality, the New York City Commissioner of Consumer Affairs (1969-1973) under then Mayor John Lindsay, and the New York City Commissioner of Cultural Affairs (1983-1987) during Mayor Ed Koch’s administration, among other achievements.

By contrast, Grant (actually an attractive, talented woman who has enjoyed success as an actor, director, writer and producer) describes herself as having been “a chubby kid, buck teeth, no obvious talent” — in other words, “a schlub” who could never “measure up” and who was undervalued and seemingly unloved by her mother.

Grant’s chronological narrative is interspersed with flashbacks of phone calls at all hours of the night and early morning from her mother, who needed to complain, to get reassurance, or just to hear another voice. The complaints became increasingly intense after Myerson, at age 65, became embroiled in a legal scandal involving her Mafia-connected boyfriend and a judge who had become her friend and who had also presided over her boyfriend’s divorce case.

Though she is never seen, the character of Myerson is voiced offstage in strong, deep tones by Monica Piper, whose total commitment makes her presence felt with great immediacy.

The play, billed as a comedy, is laced throughout with explosive, edgy one-liners. In one section, Myerson has insisted on joining Grant and her friends for dinner and remarks to her daughter, “Your friend across the table from me is very attractive. He looks like a doctor” — to which Grant replies, “He’s a drug dealer.”

The humor is strengthened by its foundation of genuine pain and angst. Grant’s air of vulnerability, her sense of having been through the fire, draws the audience into her journey. Always in command, she drops comedic gems in a deadpan manner; avoiding an obvious play for laughs, she relives painful moments in a conversational style and without any self-pity — making those moments all the more potent. In addition, her exasperation at some of the after-hours phone calls from her mother is made visible by an arch delivery.

Director Eve Brandstein contributes enormously to the piece’s emotional impact with inventive use of the stage and by choreographing the back and forth shifts in time with great clarity. She also frames the telephone interplay between mother and daughter so that it interweaves seamlessly into Grant’s monologue.

Tom Jones’ rear projections bring alive scenes from the past that greatly enhance the story. And designer Elisha Schaefer’s set hits just the right note: neither too minimalist nor too overwhelming, it instead provides clean, separate spaces among which Grant can move from one time frame to another.

Ultimately, the story becomes a tale about the possibility of forgiveness after a devastating cruelty is uncovered. That Grant can attain such a goal is admirable.

 

Edgemar Center for the Arts, 2437 Main St., #B, Santa Monica; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 4 p.m. (dark Jun. 23); extended through Aug. 4. (323) 285-2078 or MissAmericasUglyDaughter.com. Running time: approximately 85 minutes with no intermission.