You May Go Now opens with a scene which,
in a week when the world is marking National Women’s Day, reminds the audience how
far women have come. The play,
sub-titled A Marriage Play , opens in a 1950s
kitchen, cleverly conceived by designer Joe Schermoly, where Dottie teaches
daughter Betty how to be the perfect wife. She must make supper for her husband, listen sympathetically
to his problems and not talk about herself. Most important, Dottie tells her, “you will do what you are
told”.
Opportunities for humour abound and Florence Hall brings a
comic naivety to the role of Betty, with Lucy Newman-Williams a convincing
Dottie. But beneath the comedy runs a darker current. In the midst of
cake-making, Betty bursts out with questions about her body and sex, they
exchange a long and inappropriate kiss and Betty tries to hide under her
mother’s skirt. Betty has never played outside and only goes out accompanied by
Dottie. Her limited knowledge of the world is gleaned from the
Reader’s Digest.
Today all this is to change. It is Betty’s 18th birthday and
Dottie gives her a cake bearing the message “Goodbye”, a packed suitcase and a
one-way bus ticket. She must go and find herself a husband. This is an engaging start, balancing
the real and surreal in an unsettling mix.
However, as the play unfolds the
balance shifts. The minute Betty leaves, Dottie transforms into a modern
wife, writing her book on the kitchen table and telling husband Robert (Ryan
Early) to get his own dinner.
Some time passes and Betty returns with a potential
husband for herself, Philip (Michael Benz), and puts her wifely skills into practice. But Philip has something to
tell her. Without giving too much away, his horrific revelation, which draws on recent true events, also
reveals playwright Bekah Brunstetter’s purpose: to explore how such events
occur in the real world. However, this challenging subject sits uncomfortably
with the surreal world and comic tone of the play. Brunstetter also fails to
address the true horror of Betty’s story, showing her learning she is the
victim of a woman she loves, but sidestepping the pain such knowledge would
bring. You May Go Now is a daring but ultimately flawed play.
– Louise Gooding