The Joy Luck Club
Reviewed by Lara J. Altunian
Sierra Madre Playhouse
Through October 5
Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club (1989) has undoubtedly become a classic piece of mother-daughter literature. The novel is composed of 16 vignettes, which tell the story of four Chinese immigrant women and their American-born girls. Despite focusing on one single ethnic experience, the plot touches on universal themes of legacy, multi-cultural upbringing, and inter-generational understanding. Its popularity has led to a 1993 film adaptation and Susan Kim’s 2007 play.
Although the work has been mounted several times in theaters all across the country, Sierra Madre Playhouse is the first to feature an all-Chinese cast. Additionally, director Tim Dang’s interpretation includes stunning, yet simplistic details that add an authentic layer to the production.
Even though this rendition captures the spirit of Tan’s celebrated narrative, the cast’s performances fall a bit short. There were plenty of hiccups during the sold out opening weekend. These moments, mixed with a few drawn out scenes notably lacking movement, weighed the play down.
Shortly after Suyuan Woo (Sharline Liu)’s sudden death, daughter Jing-Mei, who goes by June (Nancy Ma), is asked to take her mother’s place in the Joy Luck Club — a gathering Suyuan started with three other women she befriended upon moving to San Francisco decades prior. Like Suyuan when she was alive, each of the women — An-Mei Hsu (Grace Shen), Ying-Ying St. Clair (Peggy Lu), and Lindo Jong (Lee Chen) — have distinct personality quirks their children find foreign and embarrassing. Rose (April Lam), Lena (Katharine Chen Lerner), and Waverly (Christine Liao) have trouble relating to their mothers’ superstitions, rigidness, and in June’s case, obsession with talent. Throughout the play, the eight women tell stories about their childhoods that explain their filial frustrations and the multiple misunderstandings that have framed their strained relationships.
Act I’s stories base themselves in the characters’ individual perspectives and criticisms of their parents or offspring. The transitions between these yarns are smooth and reveal the intimate, attention-grabbing details Tan originally laced into her writing. Act II consists of mother-daughter discussions that vividly elaborate upon the first act’s motifs. Each mother reveals a secret detail from her past in order to encourage her daughter to find inner strength. This structure cleverly conjoins the otherwise independent anecdotes.
The stories are brought to life through reenactments requiring multiple wig (Diahann McCrary) and color-coordinated costume (Jojo Siu with Barbara Phillips) changes from each of the 12 actors on stage. Smart projections (Yee Eun Nam) seamlessly translate Mandarin phrases that have been added to the script. They also help distinguish the eight main characters by name when first introduced. Delicate strings (Nathan Wang) create a custom soundtrack for each family.
Although the performers are able to accurately portray their roles, some of their energy is dispersed in exaggerated bouts of overacting, particularly during more comic scenes. The dramatic sequences beautifully encapsulate the plot’s darker, more serious tones. But the funnier moments are hit-and-miss. Some nail the awkward exchanges any mother-daughter duo could relate to. Others are forced and dopey thanks to sitcom-ish acting.
Dialogue is the play’s driving force. However, many of the second act’s climactic conversations often feel passive because they begin with static soliloquies. The monologues last too long before the action takes over. Combatting some of these junctures throughout the work are carefully curated slow motion sweeps of movement (Tom Tsai) imitating those seen in Chinese opera and martial arts. Their presentation behind a thin, translucent rope curtain (Nam) adds a spiritual touch to the performance.
Detracting from these gentle gestures the night I saw the show were clumsy costume mishaps such as broken bracelets and falling purses. Most distracting of all were the actors who consistently stuttered through their lines. Every other scene contained a noticeable blooper.
The Joy Luck Club is a tender story that speaks to the American experience of adjusting to a new life while carrying the wounds from an old one. Its style makes it a challenging book to transform into a play. Sierra Madre wonderfully expands upon Pan Asian Repertory Theatre’s original production. Some fine tuning and a more steadily dynamic presentation could elevate this show into something incredible.
Sierra Madre Playhouse, 87 W. Sierra Madre Blvd., Sierra Madre; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sat.-Sun., 2:30 p.m.; through Oct. 5. (626) 355-4318 or https://ci.ovationtix.com/35040/production/1005089. Running time: two hours and 30 minutes with one 15-minute intermission.
