Danielle Cox, Andrea Lyons, Natalie Pepe-Francis and Cate McKim in Age of Arousal | Photo provided by the company
Alumnae Theatre Company’s presentation of Age of Arousal is a modest yet entirely compelling affair. An unconvincing wig and mismatched accents aside, I found each of these odd women entirely endearing and Linda Griffith’s play, as a whole, very witty. With minimal set dressing, it is really Livia Pravato’s elegant 19th century costumes that sell the era. The story, based loosely on “The Odd Women” by George Gissing, takes us back to the late 19th century where we meet group of ladies—and one gentleman—wrapping their heads around “the woman question.”
Much of the humour comes from a mounting tension as their angst and libidos fester beneath outward displays of period-appropriate propriety. Mary Barfoot (Cate McKim), the eldest amongst them, is a former suffragette, though she abhors that word, obscuring as it does the violence of her past with a veil of showgirl whimsy. With her apprentice and lover, the much younger Rhoda (Natalie Stephenson), she runs a vocational school for women where they focus on secretarial skills. Three Remington typewriters loom upstage, symbols of innovation and empowerment.
Mary and Rhoda are not quite on the same page regarding the means nor the ultimate goals of emancipation. The gulf between them only widens with the introduction of three sisters down on their luck: the drunken and eccentric Virginia (Danielle Cox), the haughty and conservative Alice (Andrea Lyons) and the youngest, Monica (Natalie Pepe-Francis), who is boisterous, ambitious and very horny. Mary’s cousin, Everard (Mason Sheaves), formerly a doctor, is now a man of leisure. He’s charming and eventually has romantic designs on both Rhoda and Monica. The dynamic with his cousin Mary is intriguing, our first introduction to it is a scene where he gives her a gynecological exam.
The performances are endearing enough and often very funny. Of the many comedic highlights, I was particularly tickled by the three sisters, crammed on the chaise lounge, frantically stuffing their faces in a bit of masterfully executed farce. The facetious mass fainting that ends the first act is another chucklesome highlight. Lyons and Cox, in particular, often had me in hysterics. There is an especially powerful moment in the second act when Lyons, in the middle of some drunken buffoonery, naturalistically shifts to a heartfelt and vulnerable mode that makes Alice, who we’ve been scoffing at up until this point, suddenly sympathetic.
Sexual desires clash with principles, conflicts flare and alliances shift as they wrangle with each other and a new world. Along the way, there is righteous philosophizing, lustful interludes and impassioned declarations. A peculiar aspect of the play is the tonal divide between the two acts. The first half is distinctly satirical, while the second is unabashed melodrama—with marriage proposals, break-ups, babies and even a death!
Director Victoria Shepherd doesn’t do anything too fanciful or stylistic. Scenes are staged simply, with a keen eye for visually pleasing, sensible tableau. The major weakness here is the scene transitions. Each segment has a title introduced by either Rhoda or Mary and punctuated by keystrokes on one of the upstage Remingtons. These moments could be tightened significantly by having the actors in position sooner, hot on the heels of the scene, rather than having them walk across the stage in dead air several beats after it has ended.
As a whole, very entertaining and occasionally quite touching.
Age of Arousal
running March 12 to 23, 2025
Alumnae Theatre, Studio (70 Berkeley Street)
running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes (with intermission)
Cate McKim and Mason Sheave in Age of Arousal | Photo provided by the company