None of the disaffection for a series of Edward Albee’s plays that followed years of success and great acclaim was deemed relevant when Three Tall Women (premiered in Vienna in 1991) eventually opened in the U.S. at the Vineyard Theater in 1994 and featured memorable performances by Myra Carter and Marian Seldes. It re-awakened in us what we already knew: Albee is once again to be acknowledged as one of the best American playwrights of the 20th century with this play winning for him his third Pulitzer Prize. A terrific Broadway revival, under the direction of Joe Mantello and starring Glenda Jackson, Laurie Metcalf, and Alison Pill, has opened at the Golden Theater. It is pure gold and will be a treat for Albee fans and for lovers of great acting. While there was no denying in 1994 that Albee had grown more alienated and dramatically elusive, notably after writing such celebrated plays as Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe, A Delicate Balance, and Seascape, his return to a more easily accessed dramatic form made Three Tall Women all the more appreciated. It is commendable for not only being a moving and often humorous re-examination of a very wealthy 92 year-old woman’s life, but for once again having at its core an actress who is in dazzling command of this fascinating and exasperating woman’s fluctuations of moods. The actress is Glenda Jackson who returns to the New York stage after an absence of 33 years, a stint in the British Parliament, and a return to the London stage in 2016 as King Lear for the Old Vic. Is there any doubt that she is wonderful at making petulance both heart-breaking and funny? On the verge of death, and distrustful of everyone around her, the woman, identified only as “A” flexes her memory. Although it is clouded by senility (“I can’t remember what I know”), she ultimately does reflect on her lifetime. Just as her past is filled as much with commonplace and trivial pursuits, it has been punctuated by delightfully risqué adventures. And its fragmented truths are cradled within a resolute honesty. But this production is no monologue. It also has the support of the also terrific Laurie Metcalf who plays B, A’s 52 year-old home companion and caregiver. Adding to the play’s newly burnished luster is the excellent Alison Pill who plays C, a 26-year-old woman from the family-retained law firm who has come to question A about her neglected finances. The wry and compassionate edge that marks Metcalf’s bravura performance is contrasted by the insensitivity demonstrated by Pill as the impatient C. While the three actresses have distinct roles in Act I, in Act II they each appear as different stages in the life of the same woman who is now deceased and with an estranged son who appears only to stand silently at her bedside. A continues to chronicle moments from her impetuous childhood, her marriage and her later years. As she mentally travels through numerous peccadilloes, she also attempts with candidly expressed sentiments, to exorcise the pain and anger she has harbored in regard to her son. These are assumed to have autobiographical ties to the author. Joe Mantello’s direction appears to measure the play’s haunting nature with a playfulness that never ceases to amaze. Miriam Buether’s set design affixes appropriate affluence, as do Ann Roth’s ultra stylish apparel to a play notably rich with the words and the wonder of the playwright who was just getting his second wind.
