By Lynn Venhaus

Whether you have a family that always puts the ‘fun’ in dysfunctional or is going through a temporary rough patch, you will find something relatable in Lila Rose Kaplan’s crowd-pleasing comedy-drama “We All Fall Down.”

Nowhere is an extended family’s quirkiness more apparent that at a holiday gathering, and this setting is a Passover seder with the Jewish but non-practicing Steins coming together.
 
The territory navigated is both familiar and foreign. When the playwright’s wit, director Rebekah Scallet’s finesse, and the cast’s crisp comic timing percolate on all cylinders, it’s splendid.

Yet, there is a busyness that comes across as somewhat annoying. The seven characters are all pre-occupied, with the parents and two grown adult children overstuffed with personality peculiarities, and the three guests underdeveloped. Perhaps some trimming would have made it feel less congested.

While the resolution is heartfelt, it doesn’t feel as genuine or as earned as it could be, for the relationships are complicated, and the revelations feel rushed.

As we all know, often when people try too hard to make a celebration joyful, it fails to meet expectations because of uncooperative moving parts.

Add befuddlement as to why this festival is happening now when it’s never been a big deal, which adds a layer – and everyone is in various degrees of a tizzy.

While psychologist and family therapist mom Linda (Mindy Shaw), history professor dad (Alan Knoll), yoga instructor daughter Ariel (Hailey Medrano), feminist activist-educator daughter Sammi (Bridgette Bassa), sarcastic aunt Nan (Jenni Ryan), a sweet but sensitive friend Bev (Bethany Barr) and an efficient assistant Ester (Taijha Silas) are preparing for this specific meal with their own ‘to-do’ lists, wackiness ensues, and universal truths give way.

Mindy Shaw, Hailey Medrano. Photo by Jon GItchoff.

In Judaism, Passover commemorates the Hebrews’ liberation from slavery in Egypt, sparing the first-born of the Israelites on the eve of the Exodus. There are specific rituals handed down through generations, and Kaplan deftly explains traditions to those of us not in the know.

Those of other faiths can identify with their own heritage’s touchstones while the evergreen themes of people growing older, and children growing up strike chords.

The ensemble meshes well, conveying all the stress, resentments and aggravations that a holiday represents, but also their unique family dynamic and relationships. As in real life, a delicate balance between mothers, fathers, daughters and sisters is always shifting.

Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears

Knoll, whose performances are always lived in and first-rate, has shaded Saul with convincing layers, coming across at first as good-natured but concealing a troubled soul.

His memory is fading, and he’s confused, disconnected, and not understanding what’s happening, although he’s trying to cling tight to his routines.

His patterns are being interrupted by all the hubbub, and glimpses of what’s happening begin to be noticed by the others when they start paying attention. Most everyone is in their own little bubble and must eventually find the compassion they need at this moment. Frustrated, he won’t admit or can’t come to terms with his cognitive decline.

Alan Knoll, Bridgette Bassa, with Jenni Ryan in background. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Those who’ve witnessed a loved one lose parts of themselves through Alzheimer’s disease or other forms of dementia can recognize the symptoms that Kaplan astutely presents.

A flustered, frantic melodramatic wife and mother, Linda is played as a demanding perfectionist with nervous energy by the lissome and facile Mindy Shaw.  

This bossy control freak and bestselling author has a hidden agenda that keeps everyone guessing as to why she’s going to all this trouble. She’s a little kooky dressing up in costumes and flitting about.

Her two daughters, with secrets of their own, are focused on their problems and not why their dad may have retired early, why he’s drinking so much, or why mom’s making the signature dishes for what an old neighbor describes as “Jewish Easter.”

As adult daughters, Bassa and Medrano affect a realistic sibling rivalry and dissatisfaction with their current paths. Intelligent and limber performers, Bassa and Medrano bounce off each other like women with a history, and their rhythm is naturalistic.

There is an undercurrent of tension that may be connected to their mother’s book “Mothering Difficult Children”,” which is a hoot.” (What a great title!).

Ryan plays Saul’s outspoken sister, Aunt Nan, a part that seems straight out of sitcom land, as does Barr’s Bev, an empty nester who once lived across the street.

Silas has a nice turn as Linda’s graduate assistant who is tasked with singing “The Four Questions,” and does so beautifully.

Taijha Silas as Ester. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

The two-story suburban home setting designed by Andrea Ball is a marvel of functionality and comfort. The kitchen is stocked with all the necessary ingredients and tools to make Kugel and matzo balls, and the girls’ childhood bedroom becomes an oasis (as does a bathroom).

The technical design work is as admirable as ever, with Michael Sullivan’s lighting design and Michelle Friedman Siler’s costume design both stellar components. Cecille “Cece” Entz’ prop work is noteworthy — an appealing mix of years of clutter.

Ellie Schwetye’s sound design is always significant, and this time her mix tape choices are interesting — especially the specific “War of 1812 Overture” that’s in the script.

Kaplan crafted this play with heart. Originally produced in 2020 in Boston, this presentation is the regional premiere in St. Louis. She has a flair for tackling issues from a woman’s point of view, which is refreshing. However, the tone shifts several times, which happens when the material is both a comedy and a drama.

Scallet, also the artistic director, has helmed this show in a light-hearted way, even though the theme is heavy – parents must be taken care of even when you can’t take care of yourself

She and the playwright met years ago when Scallet was directing Kaplan’s play “Catching Flight,” which was part of a new play development program, and became friends.

The main takeaway is that traditions should be appreciated and familial love is the foundation of life. Whatever our families are going through, we can lean on each other for comfort and strength. All families deal with loss, lose their way, and re-emerge with new customs, yet never forgetting those who have passed.

Memories are made, and passed on through generations — simple yet profound.

Alan Knoll, Jenni Ryan. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

The New Jewish Theatre presents “We All Fall Down” from May 30 to June 16 at the JCCA’s Wool Studio Theatre, 2 Millstone Campus Drive, St. Louis. The play is 95 minutes without an intermission. Performances are Thursdays at 7:30 p.m., Saturdays at 4 and 8.p.m., and Sundays at 2 p.m. Individual tickets are $27- $58. Tickets are available by phone at 314.442.3283 or online at newjewishtheatre.org.

Special Note: Scallet will host two additional talkbacks with show audiences on Saturday, June 14 following the 4 p.m. performance, and on Thursday, June 6, following the 7:30 p.m. performance.

Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

By Lynn Venhaus

Relevant and empowering, New Jewish Theatre’s “Gloria: A Life” celebrates one of the most inspiring women in history with a knockout performance by Jenni Ryan as feminist icon Gloria Steinem.

Ryan wasn’t initially cast as Steinem, but was announced as the replacement on May 27, a mere five days before opening night. Under intense pressure, not to mention a time crunch, Ryan admirably captures the essence of the leading lady, with gumption and authenticity.

Like others who have been called in at the last minute on productions, for the-show-must-go-on on opening night June 1, she did have a script with her, and nonchalantly glanced at it a few times, but without any awkward interruptions. She affected Steinem’s calmer demeanor while other females are venting on inequality.

Ryan was last seen at the J as the mom in “Broadway Bound” in January. This current turn is a real-life triumph when the show is highlighting women’s accomplishments. After all, Steinem refers to herself as a “Hope-aholic.”

Hope and drive permeate this work. And Ryan gets it – why Gloria matters, why this story is important, and why it is crucial that social activism continue in this current political climate.

Photo by Jon Gitchoff

But it’s not a one-woman show. Emily Mann’s play spotlights other remarkable activists who were catalysts for change in the workplace, the home, and politics in the late 20th century.

Mann, a veteran playwright and artistic director, enlisted Steinem’s participation and guidance for this play, which premiered in 2018.

Now 89 years old, Steinem’s legacy is a remarkable one, and this interpretation details how she used her voice to champion others, putting into practice her philosophy that conversations can prompt changes.

For those who weren’t alive during the rise of the women’s liberation movement in the 1960s and 1970s, this gives that time perspective and is a valuable history lesson. But the 90-minute play (without intermission) is not merely a look back at the discrimination and harassment women faced and how they found their voices in unity.

Rather, it is an urgent call to action for today’s pressing issues. Because struggles are ongoing – race relations, reproductive rights, gender equality, gun violence, patriarchy, #MeToo, other freedoms threatened and democracy in peril. (And that’s where the second act comes into play.)

During the first act of Gloria’s journey, a passionate ensemble embodies a revolutionary spirit, with six actresses playing various pioneers of an earlier era and key people in Gloria’s life.

Actress Sarah Gene Dowling is both gutsy Congresswoman Bella Abzug and Gloria’s broken mother Ruth; Kayla Ailee Bush is fiery Ms. Magazine co-founder Dorothy Pitman Hughes; and Lizi Watt is fierce Wilma Mankiller, first female chief of Cherokee Nation, among the prominent figures; and Chrissie Watkins, Summer Baer, and Carmen Cecilia Retzer take on multiple roles, wearing many hats (and scarves).

Civil rights attorney Florynce Kennedy is depicted, as are women wanting to make a difference. Nevertheless, there are some famous not-so-nice guys, people who aren’t fans, and other negative folks among the positivity.

As directed by Sharon Hunter in the J. Wool’s Studio Theater space configured in the round, the women swiftly move in and out, expressing themselves in discussion, fiery tirades, protests, sisterhood bonding, period music and dance. They reflect the conscience-raising efforts of those past decades.

Significant life touchstones mentioned include Steinem’s reporting days (of course the undercover Playboy Bunny magazine piece); co-founding the National Women’s Political Caucus in 1971 with Abzug, Betty Friedan, Shirley Chisholm, and others; co-founding the monthly Ms. Magazine in 1972; and the 1977 National Women’s Conference.

Gloria’s story portion concludes with the Women’s March in January 2017 in Washington D.C., where Steinem spoke to thousands of women wearing pink pussy hats.

Photo by Jon Gitchoff

A lively Dowling excels as “Battling Bella” – who was elected to the House of Representatives for New York City’s 19th district in 1970, and was a driving force in liberal political organizations, supporting the Equal Rights Amendment, a women’s credit-rights bill, abortion rights, and child-care legislation. (In 1974, women could finally get a loan without their father or husband co-signing it, thanks in part to Bella).

It’s also important to note that the cast and crew are all women. Scenic designer Fallon Podrazik kept the set simple for movement and interaction, costume designer Michele Friedman Siler assembled retro fashions representative of the times, while sound designer Amanda Werre created a mélange of important sound bites and familiar tunes, and there is distinct illumination from lighting designer Denisse Chavez.

Props master Katie Orr’s work was particularly demanding, replicating magazine articles and finding Ms. Magazine issues, not to mention making protest signs.

And there is a unique second act, a 20-minute interactive “talking circle,” that seeks audience participation in hopes of harnessing the energy of this production. Playwright Mann thought it was important to engage people and that these conversations could propel folks into action, pointing to Steinem’s mantra “the healing is in the telling.”

The ultimate goal is for people to learn from each other, and as Gloria has said: “This is the way we discover we’re not crazy and we’re not alone.”

Photo by Jon Gitchoff

At several performances, a local Guest Responder is launching the talking circle by sharing their own story of breaking barriers or simply responding to the play. For a complete list, visit: jccstl.com/njt-gloria-a-life.

The night I was there, State Senator Tracy McCreery led the conversation. One of the audience members pointed out that black women were at the forefront of the feminism movement, and that led to more reflections.

While it may seem that the needle hasn’t been moved that much in the past 10 years, I know that I stand on the shoulders of giants, and I am appreciative of the women who fought hard for the rights we now enjoy. After this viewing, I am optimistic, citing the words of “Hamilton”: “This is not a moment, it’s a movement.”

“Gloria: A Life” is certainly galvanizing, and the cast is enthusiastic about the stories they are sharing. It can fire up younger generations and spark renewed excitement by re-activating those Baby Boomers who recall the victories of the past. And Steinem is still fighting for human rights.

And this intimate look is another opportunity for those to marvel at how far we have come– although the work is unfinished. There are more trails to blaze and fires to put out. The play has something to say and the cast underlines it with vigor.

New Jewish Theatre presents “Gloria: A Life” from June 1 – 18, on Thursdays at 7:30 p.m., Saturdays at 4 and 8 p.m., and Sundays at 2 p.m. at the SFC Performing Arts Center, 2 Millstone Campus Drive. For more information: jccstl.com/arts-ideas/new-jewish-theatre. For tickets, call 314-442-3283 or go online at newjewishtheatre.org.

Photo by Jon Gitchoff

Addendum: Some follow-up streaming programming:

  • “9to5: The Story of a Movement” is a 2021 documentary directed by Steven Bognar and Julia Reichert,” and currently streaming on Netflix. (It won the Joe Williams Documentary Award given by the St. Louis Film Critics Association. I was on that jury).

  • CNN miniseries “The Seventies” in 2015 – seventh episode is “Battle of the Sexes.” (Max)
  •  In a 2020 Amazon Prime original narrative film, “The Glorias,” Julie Taymor directed four different actresses to play Steinem at different stages of her life — Julianne Moore and Alicia Vikander as adults and Ryan Kiera Armstrong and Lulu Wilson as youngsters.
Photo by Jon Gitchoff

By Lynn Venhaus

The adage, “Bloom where you are planted,” is the theme of “Bandera, Texas,” an amiable new play about marriage, motherhood, and enduring family ties by Lisa Dellagiarino Feriend that the fledgling Prism Theatre Company fell in love with last year at their reading of new works by women.

Now it has the honor of being their first produced full-length play, and it’s a good one to lead the way for this emerging company. Their goal is to focus on females, an applaud-worthy stance that I hope has a bright future ahead.

I enjoyed Feriend’s original voice on the timeless issues women face as girls, wives, mothers, and aging seniors. Those pesky aggravations like cheating husbands, making a home with wee ones underfoot in faraway places, spouses dying, workplace discrimination and overall sexism.

She speaks in a natural way that resonates. For a familiar fish-out-of-water trope, it’s a dandy script full of heart, humor, and engaging characters (including the men!).

They always say write what you know, and while I am not certain if any of it is taken from her life, the Virginia-born playwright is based in Chicago, having moved there in 2008, and is married with two children. She earned a BFA in film and TV from New York University.

The five-member cast has a command of the show’s intentions and are mostly cohesive as a group, with a few wobbly interactions. If everyone’s accent can’t be consistent, I’d just ditch them all, instead of an uneven hodge-podge.

Hopefully, this modest production is considered a workshop and will be further fine-tuned and polished, for the comedy-drama-fantasy has much potential.

Ghost grandmas and pregnant Liz (Maggie Lehman). Photo by Dan Steadman

Like the transplanted heroine in the play, this inaugural production has had a bumpy road from plans to execution, and that’s one of those pandemic-related situations that can’t be pinned on any one thing.

As we learn to navigate the ever-changing COVID-19 virus and its variants, we must adapt – and that’s something the characters, and I suppose the playwright, has had to deal with as well, with a smile and a tear.

Originally slated for a June opening, the show was pushed back because of COVID-19 complications, and therefore, some roles had to be re-cast for this current staging – and one part twice. Some actors had contracts for other gigs, which is a good thing for work, but not necessarily for continuity and chemistry. You know, kismet. But the good intentions are apparent.

So, that leads to this end-of-summer run, Aug. 26-Sept. 4, in the Kranzberg Black Box Theatre, simply staged and presented with much good will and sweat equity.

At least the author, cast and audience are on the same page – life happens, and it’s all about forging ahead, no matter what obstacles are in your path. That’s why I would consider it a work-in-progress.

Last summer, I was charmed by its rudimentary reading in an elementary school at the “Spotlight On…Women Writing Festival of New Works,” and was pleased to hear of its development as an actual theatrical production. It was one of four selected for reading out of 21 submissions.

This world premiere benefits from the wit and relatable situations – at least for any woman who has been blessed with being raised by strong women, and the men who’ve been fortunate to be in their orbit.

With equal parts grit and gumption, Feriend unfolds the predicament of Liz (Maggie Lehman), a pregnant young woman who agreed to move to the Texas Hill Country because her husband Dave (Mike DePope) has landed his dream job – high school drama teacher and baseball coach. As one character says, that is quite specific, but hey, good for him.

Only she is a native New Yorker and moving into a trailer on her husband’s family’s property turns out to be a far rougher experience than she imagined. Good grief, rattlesnakes are outside! And there may be scorpions – egads!

While fretting, her dead and still gutsy grandmothers, maternal Genevieve (Jenni Ryan) and paternal Mary (Leslie Wobbe), magically appear to offer advice as good ghosts. Ryan joined the cast as a replacement to a replacement and isn’t as fluid with the dialogue as the rest, and it’s a conversational-heavy play. As a brash New Yorker who lived a hardscrabble life, she employed a thick accent that comes and goes, and gets more emphatic as she is confronted with adversity.

Ryan Burns in multiple roles, including Robert F. Kennedy. Photo by Dan Steadman.

Wobbe embodies a sweet woman who learned to stand up for herself and her family when times were tough. She projects a calm, reassuring manner to impart life lessons.

Through flashbacks, they will provide examples of crossroads and tough choices in their lives. These shared incidents help Liz adapt to her new surroundings and make her realize who she is by carrying the people she has loved in her heart. After all, home is where we start from – it’s universal.

Liz, an accountant, plays into the stereotypes we associate with New Yorkers who believe the rest of the U.S. is flyover country. She seems resistant to fitting into Bandera, current population 857, although she says she will and is trying to be a good sport. Only she whines about not being in NYC. A lot. We get it. Crossroads of the world, center of the universe, and yadda, yadda. (They do have the best water, all the better for the bagels.)

For the record, Bandera is a small town less than an hour away from San Antonio, and on its website, they call themselves the “Cowboy Capital of the World.” Alrighty, then.

A lively spirit, Lehman portrays Liz confidently and sympathetically, conveying her concerns – many of them valid – and is agile on stage, mindful of her growing tummy and taking that into consideration for her movements. You feel for her – I’d be pouting and overthinking too. Baby makes three.

The men fit the Texas mold that’s used countless times – macho gun-toting, beer-swilling, loud, boastful, close-minded rednecks, and set in their ways. Dave, though, doesn’t seem to be the cookie-cutter image, more cosmopolitan and somewhat thoughtful, but after day drinking with his brother and dad, settles into those typical guy things. Mike DePope straddles the dilemma of supportive husband and male bonding with his bro.

That family lineage is kept off-stage, and it’s the New Yorkers whose lives adapting are in vignettes – off the boat, in the orphanage, living in Iowa, being widowed at a young age, entering the workforce as a mother, dealing with setbacks, patriarchy rules in the workplace, and just getting by.

Portraying different characters to flesh out key turning points in the grandmothers’ lives, the versatile Ryan Burns is remarkable – the true MVP of the show. He’s so authentic in these snapshots of husbands, sons, bosses, neighbors and even Robert F. Kennedy. It’s an interesting twist. That’s quite a load to carry, and he impressively stands out.

Liz and Dave are a couple you root for, and would like to know more about – did they name the baby Charity or did the new mom win that round?

Audiences will have the opportunity to talk to Feriend, as she will be here Saturday and Sunday. Prism’s Trish Brown, who directed the show in a straightforward, realistic way, and her longtime collaborator Joy Addler arranged this visit. They worked with Feriend to develop the play after last summer’s reading.

On Saturday, Sept. 3, the performance will be followed by a Meet the Playwright reception, included in your ticket. On Sunday, Sept. 4, the performance will be followed by an audience talk back with the playwright and the cast, which is included in the ticket.

Next up for Prism is the “Spotlight On…Emerging Artists Festival of New Works” Sept. 22 – Oct. 1 at The High Low. This year’s festival will feature staged readings of plays by six local playwrights, all of whom have never had their works published or produced.

Prism Theatre Company presents “Bandera, Texas” I Aug. 26 – Sept. 4, Thursday through Saturday at 7:30 p.m. and Sunday at 2 p.m. For more information, visit www.prismtheatrecompany.org.

For tickets, online: https://www.metrotix.com/events/detail/prism-theatre-company-bandera-texas; Phone: (314) 534-1111 or in person at the Fabulous Fox box office.

By Joe GfallerContributing WriterWho lives, who dies, who tells your story. It’s the refrain that ends Hamilton. Even though the revolution is different, the sentiment carries beautifully into Paris in 1793 in Lauren Gunderson’s sparkling tragi-comedy The Revolutionists.

The play, presented by Insight Theatre Company, is at the Marcelle Theater through July 14.

Four bold, gutsy women of the French revolution meet in an imagined sequence of events in The Revolutionists. Three are real figures: Charlotte Corday (the assassin of Jean-Paul Marat), Olympe de Gouges (a feminist playwright), and Marie Antoinette (the deposed queen of France). One, Marianne Anglle, is a constructed amalgam of several free women of color who fought to end slavery in the French Caribbean.

That all four could ever have met – let alone built the relationships of trust, sympathy, and friendship constructed in the play – is impossible. The play acknowledges this directly before it ends. However, once you willingly suspend that disbelief and accept you are watching “a revolutionary dream fugue, as the play calls itself, you are quickly in for a treat.

Lauren Gunderson’s play is filled with a modern wit that captures the spirit of these women without ever trying to recreate the language of the period. “Chutzpah,” “high five,” and “work life balance” were probably never spoken in 18th century France – let alone some of the saltier 21st century language that these characters invoke. However, by pulling these women out of stilted period turns of phrase, the play makes them feel as vital and contemporary to audiences today as they would have felt to the people of France in their own day.

Where the play is at its best, The Revolutionists threads the playful and the profound. That is no better personified than in Laurie McConnell’s portrayal of Marie Antionette, who becomes at turns endearing and loveable, batty and self-absorbed. She can bring the house down by announcing “Gasp!” and then commenting “Sometimes I say it instead of doing it.” But, despite all the caricature, in the end, she finds her nobility in her humanity – knowing that, like most of our heroines, she is to face the guillotine and her own death. Her promise to deliver a message to the husband of another woman in the afterlife becomes one of the play’s most touching moments.

As Charlotte Corday, Samantha Auch gives the most
emotionally compelling performance in the production. She first bursts into de
Gouges’ parlor in search of a writer who can help her write her inevitable last
words at the guillotine. Full of self-righteous conviction, she can both
channel the innocence to believably call her plan to murder Marat “stabby stab
stab” and the icy certainty to comment on the sexual assault she eventually
receives in prison to confirm if she “is a virgin.” The beautiful clarion voice
with which she delivers the first of a few unexpected lines of music upon her
death filled the theater with hope in the play’s first great moment of despair.

Kimmie Kidd gives a solid portrayal of Marianne Angelle as a
dignified voice of reason, attempting to motivate her friend de Gouges to
harness her talents for the cause of abolition and women’s equality. In the one
scene of substantial dramatic stakes for these two, she and de Gouges abandon
their early witty banter and intellectual arguments for a fight that is grounded
in what feels to be true betrayal. As one who has lived the fight, Angelle’s
wounds are deep. “You can’t write it if you’re not in it,” Angelle bristles at
de Gouges, ultimately leaving the playwright on the floor, clutching the very
pages she was prepared to burn in order to save her own skin.

It is Olympe de Gouges’ journey that theoretically serves as
the arc of the play. Sadly, there are times in which the construct – of her as
writer that the other three women come to – feels like the engine of a plot
that is less about her and more about the others. In the spirit of Caryl
Churchill’s Top Girls, it’s as if we find ourselves at a prolonged
dinner party full of entertaining incident and careful, thoughtful character
studies. But the host herself feels hollow. We never learn how she and Angelle
have come to be as close as we’re told they are, so when their relationship
frays, it’s not one that we have found a way to invest in deeply. Their
struggle matters to them more than it matters to us.

In Jenni Ryan’s portrayal of de Gouges, some of the character’s artifice – constantly hiding behind arguments about the aesthetic value of theater and art – seem to bury the heart of this woman, who often can come across as a less-than-capable dilletante. (The real de Gouges seems to have been anything but.) Her struggle seems to be an intellectual one for three-quarters of the play – and when it finally becomes a real one, it seems to surprise the character as much as it does the audience.

Ultimately, in de Gouges’ final moments, Ryan transforms her into someone who is deeply sympathetic. One only wishes that transformation could have happened earlier in the evening.

Staging The Revolutionists in the round, Trish Brown does an elegant job of consistently using the space well and maintaining a level of energy and momentum that can make a somewhat heady play that relies more on great dialogue than plot continue to feel fresh, fun, and visceral. The simple impact of red flower petals as blood in the moment when Corday kills Marat was one of many beautiful grace notes she successfully incorporated into the staging.

The limited set design — a few pieces of furniture — by Leah McFall was complemented quite effectively by the periodic soundscapes of sound designers Trish Brown and Bob Schmit, and the strong lighting from designer Morgan Brennan. Julian King’s costume design also gave each of the four women signature looks for the entire evening. With a larger budget, one imagines that an occasional costume change would have given us a chance to see more of variety.

I could have lived without the periodic meta-theatrical comparisons to Les Miserables that peppered the script — particularly since the student revolution in that musical was an entirely different revolution than the one playing out in Paris in the 1790s.

But, that aside, the wit and humor of the piece was frequently deeply satisfying and consistently surprising. Bringing back to life these four women in such a novel and engaging setting makes the production well worth a visit.

It’s no wonder that playwright Lauren Gunderson was recently among the most-produced playwrights in America and that her plays have so frequently graced St. Louis stages. She is a rare talent that, in this play, marries heart, humor, and history in a way that will make any audience member clamor to cry “Vive la revolution!”

Insight Theatre Company presents “The Revolutionists’ June 27 – July 14 at the Marcelle Theatre in the Grand Arts District, 3310 Samuel Shepard Drive. Performances are Thursday through Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 2 p.m. For more information, visit www.insighttheatrecompany.com or call 314-556-1293.