Margaret Sweeney (left, Marlene) and Olivia Raso (as Pope Joan) in Caryl Churchill’s chaotic and inspired Top Girls. Kevin Doyle photograph
What if all your possible paths in life, actually came to life. What if they all started talking to you, simultaneously. That’s what you get in Caryl Churchill’s “Top Girls.”
Onstage through Dec. 8 in the Sophia Gordon Center, realized enthusiastically by the Salem State Theatre department, the English playwright’s intense, chaotic work examines the life and possible lives of agency executive Marlene (Margaret Sweeney).
It’s a tale of many Marlenes—of the Marlene that is, and Marlene that might have been. A Japanese concubine/nun. A silent warrior. A talkative Scots traveler. The only female pope, stoned to death after she gives birth. And, as the turbulent narrative climaxes, a mother who has abandoned a daughter.
Chaos is the norm in this humorous drama, first staged in 1983 and soaked in Thatcherism. Fast-paced dialogue layers over more fast-paced dialogue, mimicking the impossibly contradictory choices Marlene faces. The words are often incomprehensible, but their intentions never are.
The three acts pivot around Marlene, who remains put-together, confident and assured—until she isn’t. The first act is a crazy quilt of quasi-historic characters, who comically reveal their fantastical biographies over dinner. The second act moves to rural England, where Marlene’s daughter (Angie, played intensely by Julia McDonough) haplessly plots in teenaged earnest to kill her “mother” Joyce (brilliantly acted by Mary Sapp).
The final act jumps around in time, culminating when the sisters dissect the choices Marlene has made, revealing agonizingly that she has left her daughter with her sister to pursue a different life. The sisters re-ignite the past with fury in a ferocious scene—entirely incomprehensible, but impossible not to comprehend.
The chaos rests sporadically. First-act monologues from Pope Joan (Olivia Raso), Dull Gret (wordless brilliance by McDonough), Lady Nijo (Akane Ishid), Patient Griselda (Olivia Avery) and others interrupt the action with outlandish biographies.
Only as these stories accumulate do you understand the possibilities. When Marlene rises to the top at the Top Girls hiring agency, and is simultaneously greeted by her bewildered, runaway daughter, time and tale come together.
Julie Kiernan directs, and has the energetic cast make terrific use of the playing space. Often three separate acting environments get employed along the stage and lip, creating visuals that mimic the piled-on dialogue (credit to scenic designer Michael Harvey).
Many accents are attempted (Scots, Japanese, Franglais), and many sounded natural. Given the script’s style—inaudibility leading to comprehension—unheard lines were a natural fit. It did seem like some comic opportunities got trampled into deafness.
“Top Girls” is long, and should have had two intermissions. Excessive length is not the problem: This play is just as long as it needs to be, engaging for every second. But the natural pause between the second and third acts gets obliterated. And at this intensity, everyone needs a rest.
Before the play begins, a video montage was shown, with a half-dozen students answering “How does feminism affect your life?” The montage forms part of the far-reaching study of feminism pursued by the troupe: the entire theater is transformed into a Modern Museum of Feminism, with student art and participatory questionnaires, and musical interludes (original compositions by Heather Mae) provided additional topical context.
All this extra-textural activity updates the play from its era, and explores current issues, feminist and otherwise. But it fails to limit the possible paths of meaning in the script.
The pace and intensity are brilliantly realized by this cast. They stay focused through every inaudible syllable, and the audience does as well. Rising above simplistic You-go-girl cheerleading, “Top Girls” examines hard choices without making trite encouragements.
“Top Girls” runs through Dec. 8 at Salem State University’s Sophia Gordon Center. Visit salemstatetickets.com or call 978 542-6365.