For the first half hour of Dennis Kelly’s Girls & Boys, making its Midwest debut at the Bramble Arts Loft, one could be forgiven for calling it a Fleabag rip-off. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. It’s a British one-woman show starring a cheeky nameless woman who speaks candidly about her chaotic life. We’re treated to stories of steamy romantic encounters and career successes; she admits to non-feminist thinking and poor impulse control.
The first third of Girls & Boys, a Griffin Theatre Company production directed by Robin Witt, wanders uninspiringly in oft-tread territory. Thankfully, though, it takes a shocking turn to reveal a compelling and satisfying story. The show’s dark conclusion is a dramatic triumph.
Cynthia Marker plays our one-woman, known only as Woman. She stands in front of a gray couch bookended by two matching side tables and lamps. Hanging several feet above the couch—an interesting but on-the-nose idea from scenic director Sotirios Livaditis—is an upside-down full-sized replica of the couch and its side tables below, but this one’s ghostly blue and is decorated with children’s toys.
On this creative stage we’re introduced to our protagonist. She starts the night by recounting her 20s from the perspective of a wiser, grouchier woman who is shocked and impressed by her naïve gumption.
“Drinks, drugs, a fair amount of cocaine and different partners—it was a fun and a laugh and also destructive and slightly depressing and oddly callous and upsetting as well as energizing—confusing. It was confusing.”
Marker’s delivery is purposeful, restrained. She stays on her mark. There’s almost no walking in this show. Her hands rarely rise above her waist, which must be a conscious choice. At times, particularly in the first half hour or so, I felt too familiar with the patterns of her voice. The cadence of Marker’s speaking, a sing-songy rise and fall, seems to aid in the memorization of the lines more so than in their delivery. Additional experimentation from Marker may be necessary to elevate the comedic bits.
However, it’s not fair to blame Marker entirely for the show's early issues when the material also lags at the start. Dennis Kelly is guilty of overwriting, it's sad but true. In the first few minutes he seems committed to those overstuffed curse-word insults that plague modern comedy.
“And I’m just fuming,” Woman says about a difficult man in line, “I mean you moron, you idiot, you thick brained, lard-synapsed cock-head, do you not get what’s going on here?”
One expects these word crimes from a Marvel movie but not in the British one-woman show. I almost feel bad exposing it, this dirty trick. Once pointed out, one can't ignore the goose-brained, nonsensical, pedantic, stomach-churning insults that wiggle far too often into television, movies, and literature. It's a cheap, never-funny cliche from writers not nearly as smart as they think. Funny people don’t talk like lazy comedians, writers would be wise to remember that.
It's not unsurprising these issues would most affect the start. Story beginnings tend to be over-written because writers review them more than other portions. Another pair of eyes would’ve helped Kelly. But it’s hardly worth mentioning these early fumbles when the one-woman show succeeds at what it does well.
The writing and Marker’s performance improve tremendously as the show evolves from a bildungsroman to a family drama. I’m not sure what accounts for Marker’s improvement. Maybe her nerves dissolved, or perhaps the more disturbing material is a better fit for her delivery. Whatever the case, it gets better.
Woman falls in love with and marries the “lard-synapsed cock-head” guy. He’s a sexy carpenter type, and she’s making waves as a documentary film producer. They have two kids. Everything is going well. Or is it? Cracks in the marital foundation show. Things are not what they seem, he is not what he seems. And about midway, Woman overtly foreshadows the tragedy to come.
One feels the theater extend its sympathy to Woman more and more as the story unfolds. During one of her violent monologues, an audience member, unable to contain themselves, whispered “Jeez." I heard many gasps. We were all rooting for her; one could feel it.
This closeness, it’s an interesting phenomenon specific to the one-person show. When an audience involves itself completely with a single character’s journey, the connection to the individual is far more intense than one usually finds with a cast of performers. In other words, she had us eating from the palm of her hand.
“Right. This is the hard bit,” Woman tells us just before the disturbing conclusion, “This is the bit that’s been coming and I think maybe you’ve known it’s been coming, but it is here now.”
By the time Marker delivers the line, stock-still and harshly lit, she is no longer a character to me. The drama has become so intense, so complete, I am ready to believe she is someone who wandered off the street with a story to tell. The ending, tragic and disturbing, is definitely earned.
Girls & Boys rewards multiple viewings or readings. At its conclusion one realizes the foreshadowing is sharp even from the start. While I bemoan Kelly’s lazy comedic tricks, I can’t deny that written between those eye-rolling lines were intelligent setups primed for a shattering payoff.
After the first third, Girls & Boys becomes the best show I’ve seen this season. People should enter with tissues and expect devastation. It’s not a light experience, but an enlightening and powerful one.
Girls & Boys by Griffin Theatre Company continues at the Bramble Arts Loft, 5545 N Clark St., thru August 16. Running time is approximately 90 minutes with no intermission. Tickets are $30- $43.
For more information on this and other productions, see theatreinchicago.com.
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