BoHo's I Am My Own Wife

The play I Am My Own Wife asks the lead -- and only -- actor, who in this production is Peter Robel, to do some unusual work: portray a few dozen characters in the span of a couple hours. And, it asks the audience to do some unusual work as well: believe that this one actor really is those few dozen characters with only a change of gesture and voice to differentiate one from the next. Robel, who portrays infamous East German transvestite Charlotte von Mahlsdorf as well as all those additional characters, delivered a solid performance in the BoHo Theatre's production of the play that has won awards both on and off Broadway. But I wouldn't describe Robel's performance as much more than solid. I found the delicate hand fluttered around the neck -- the main gesture that he used to bring von Mahlsdorf's physicality to life -- to be a cliche. Even if that were an accurate gesture made by von Mahlsdorf, I think an actor could develop a more complex and interesting visual vocabulary -- i.e., something beyond the anticipated cliche.

I found the switch into the various supporting characters was often gratuitous and unnecessary. This wasn't Robel's fault as much as a flaw of the script. I'm not sure why rendering all the characters was important to the story. Why not let the actor listen and react to unheard voices off stage for these fleeting characters? Theater audiences are used to such devices. There were some important secondary characters -- Doug Wright, his friend in East Germany, and von Mahlsdorf's friend/rival antique dealer -- who were worthy of Robel's interpretation. But, the myriad Soviet secret police and American soldiers who only had a line or two ultimately come across as a series of quick gesticulations and voice changes. It's distracting more than a tour de force.

The final scene of the play is also disappointing. Throughout, we're asked to closely focus on Charlotte von Mahlsdorf, not just for her eccentricities, but also to consider what is the truth and what is a lie about her life. We are asked to focus on her as someone who may have turned in a close friend to the Soviet secret police for her own gain or who may have given the information at the behest of this same friend to "save herself." Yet the final scene asks us to direct our attention away from this big question to a metaphor -- a child sitting with two lion cubs (don't worry, I'm not giving away any secrets of the play) -- which seems like a cop out on the playwright's behalf. The questions that were raised were raised through character. To try to answer these difficult questions about von Mahlsdorf and her choices through a metaphor that tries to neatly box up her life yet ultimately results in an ambivalent image seems misdirected at best. von Mahlsdorf may have been an enigma, but she wasn't a character that inspired ambivalence.

A tip of the hat to set designer John Zuicker whose monochromatic set was textured and lush.