The Confession of Lily Dare – Grade A Pastiche
The thing about pastiche is that it’s intrinsically dated. Old-fashioned becomes a descriptive rather than pejorative term. Charles Busch, a master of the form since 1984’s Vampire Lesbians of Sodom, proffers signature style with intelligence and pathos as well as humor. Clear affection for the genre and his own deft performance make this playwright’s work rise above the fray.
Its plot is classic: A turn-of-the-century, wrong-side-of-the-tracks mother sacrifices all so that her daughter can have a better life. Think black and white films. Think Stella Dallas. Like any formulaic story, appeal rests in the telling/performance. Affected accents and broad gestures are bespoke; exaggerated, but never too far over the top.
When crusty madam, Rosalie Mackintosh (Jennifer Van Dyck – recalling Kitty from Gunsmoke) finds orphaned niece Lily (Charles Busch) at the door of her San Francisco brothel, she has little choice but to take her in. Fresh from a Swiss convent school in a beribboned boater and curls, the innocent child tries “to find the good in everyone. I call it the happiness game.” She has, at the start, not a clue about her surroundings and is warned to stay upstairs.
The flashback tale is narrated by gay, bordello pianist Mickey (Kendal Sparks) and head whore-with-a-heart-of-gold, Emmy Lou (Nancy Anderson), who loyally watch over the heroine. Sweet bookkeeper Louis (Christopher Borg) unwittingly impregnates and wants to marry her, but the earthquake of 1906 takes his life as well as that of Rosalie and “staff.”
Penniless and on the street, Lily appeals to rich, sleezy Blackie Lambert (Howard McGillin) whom she met at Rosalie’s. Would he back her in an opera career? He’s heard her sing (lip sync), she’s good. Instead, he decides to “transform” her into a nightclub performer.
We next see a new, sensationally successful Mandalay (Lily) in elaborate gown, feather boa and wig. A better looking Mae West, she sings “Pirate Joe” (by Tom Judson) with ersatz Dietrich’s voice. Mickey and Emmy Lou are still in the picture. Five years pass.
Lily is manipulated into taking a fall for Blackie, loses her child to wealthy strangers, runs “her own” establishment, loses everything in 1929, takes a fatal step to protect Louise, and self-immolates to keep her daughter’s honor intact.
Along the way, Van Dyck also plays a German countess via Gloria Swanson, a straight-backed society matron whose weepy speech defining motherhood is perfection, and chaste, obtuse Louise who learns some lessons along the way (not the least of which is the ability to say words like “cunt”).
Borg plays a German baron channeling Erich von Stroheim (love the hair wings!), Louise’s well-heeled, puffed-chest, adoptive father, opera impresario Maestro Guardi (replete with mane), and a priest. Both mercurial actors make the most of every role.
Howard McGillian makes a splendid Blackie, personifying charismatic evil. Kendal Sparks creates a sweet stolid, credible Mickey.
Nancy Anderson plays Lily’s best friend with palpable warmth, honesty, and enough lower class accent to make her real.
Busch himself continues to be marvelous. He simply acts the part – well. There’s no sense of awareness that the production is not melodrama in its own time. The script manages to be fun, straight arrow, and touching.
Director Carl Andress, longtime collaborator of the author “gets it.” We see none of the wink-wink attitude that ruins so many satires. While the piece is often playful, it’s also, ultimately respectful. Andress walks the line with assurance.
Set design by B.T. Whitehall is decorative without overwhelming. A hanging proscenium border is evocative. Costumes are high quality, character, and period specific with a dash of out-of-an-attic-trunk feeling: Charles Busch’s by Jessica Jahn; others by Rachel Townsend. Katherine Carr’s wigs are just right.
Photos by Carol Rosegg
Opening: Kendal Sparks, Charles Busch, Christopher Borg, Nancy Anderson, Jennifer Van Dyck, Howard McGillin
Primary Stages presents
The Confession of Lily Dare – From Convent Girl to Cabaret Chanteuse to Infamous Madame
Written by and Starring Charles Busch
Through March 5, 2020
Directed by Carl Andress
Cherry Lane Theatre
38 Commerce Street