That fun little epigram is Brava Theater's tagline for their delightful and warm production of Paula Vogel's The Oldest Profession, now running through April 9th. Penelope and I caught the first night of the previews, and though there may have been a flubbed line or two, I strongly recommend seeing it. This tale of five prostitutes who've been in "the life" for more than 50 years and are still working at it in their 70's, is set in New York City at the dawn of the Reagan era. These women have seen and done it all and they have no regrets about the past, even as the future begins to look more and more uncertain as their pool of clients starts to wither and die.
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| Photo by Stephen Engert |
Mae (Cec Levinson) is the madam of the group, but the dynamics between them are more familial than business, though certainly not in the tired "hooker with a heart of gold" vein. Thankfully Vogel's sharp script contains nothing sentimental nor clichéd about the life of prostitutes but is also never judgemental. In this play the profession provides a frame through which the audience watches five women, still very aware of and engaged with their own sexuality well into their seventies, cope with getting older in a world that has no place for them.
That sounds darker than the play is, which is at turns quite funny while remaining thought-provoking. The cast is sharp and it's a real pleasure watching women at this age portraying something other than grandmothers for a change- and they do it well.
The challenge here for the actors, at least from my perspective, is can you sell yourself to the audience as a working prostitute at this age? Tamar Cohn's Lillian and Linda Ayres-Frederick's Edna have an easy time of it- in certain lighting both of them could not only pass for much younger women, but the script makes it clear they can still deliver a good bang for buck and costume designer Michelle Mulholland emphasizes their figures in flattering ways.
The same can't be said for Levinson, Patricia Silver (Ursula) and Lee Brady (Vera), making theirs the more difficult roles in this regard. However, here's where the sophistication of Vogel's script pays off handsomely by acknowledging these women now have different worths on the street (or in the old folks home) and this is the reality of still being in the profession at this age. Ultimately, what was initially a challenge for me became wholly credible by the play's conclusion due to the strong talents of the cast.
Kudos to the entire cast, director Evren Odcikin, and special props to the alluring Angela Dwyer, whose musical accompaniment and occasional narration not only made the room feel incredibly intimate, but caused Penelope to ponder the merits of a Boston marriage.
As we left the theater, we could hear "Ring of Fire" coming from somewhere in the night air, which turned out to be a band of musicians playing on the corner outside of Pop's bar. As we stood there listening to the talented group, we overheard an accordion-carrying man say to his friends as they passed "Damn, I can't believe they have an accordion player too!"
