MADWOMEN OF THE WEST at the Riverside Studios

★★

“Like the piñata that hangs above the stage throughout but is never used, the full force of the show never strikes its target”

I feel sorry for the Uber driver. Midway through Sandra Tsing Loh’s American import comedy “Madwomen of the West”, Claudia (Melanie Mayron) wants out. “No, not Highgate” she drawls into her phone. “Where are we?” she asks the audience. “Hammersmith”. But when the driver is three minutes away, she decides to stay, but fails to cancel the ride. The conversation – and the driver – are instantly forgotten. Claudia is at her friend’s house, in her pyjamas for some reason. Her friend is Jules (Brooke Adams) who initially conceals her torment and vodka in a water bottle. Also present is Marilyn (Caroline Aaron), busily putting up and taking down invisible party decorations. Latecomer Zoey (Marilu Henner) breezes into view like Catwoman, crashing the stage with the promise of ruffling feathers that are already dishevelled.

There is plenty of blurring of the lines in this play, which at times doesn’t feel like a play at all. There is no fourth wall, but when we are spoken to (or at) we are never sure whether it is the character or the actress. Presumably when the show initially ran in Los Angeles and New York last year, the audiences would have a better grasp, but from this side of the pond it is hard to tell.

The four performers have got together to put on a show about four women of a certain age who have got together for a surprise birthday party. They have known each other since their college days, which definitely shows in the camaraderie and the rivalry. The performances are wonderfully natural, but just as we are relaxing into their plush sofas and reminiscences, we are jolted out again by abrupt theatrical devices. The joke wears thin as the (fictitious) lack of budget, set, props and tech crew are repeatedly referred to. Where it fares best is the tweaking of the script for the English audience, acknowledging and respecting the differences in the humour while simultaneously making fun of us.

It not only makes fun of our culture, but also their own, and the fact that they cannot keep up. They don’t even want to keep up and these strong, successful women have earned the right not to try. The writing is sometimes unashamed as they tackle the topics of today. ‘Trans… it’s the new bulimia…’ The conversation and the drink flow freely as the women grapple with their own issues as well as the world’s. Divorce and disappointment, menopause and marriage, career and child-rearing, expectations and sexploitation. Many points raised are tried and tested but a few jump out like refreshing splashes of political incorrectness. Little seems to be out of bounds. Director Racky Plews must have had her work cut out, yet she has maintained a tight hold on proceedings while still making it look as though the performers are calling all the shots.

Some monologues, while informative and sympathy grabbing, linger too long and some clashing viewpoints seem contrived. But the chemistry between these performers is reassuring. We sometimes feel we are watching an Americanised episode of ‘Loose Women’ until we realise that, if we were, we wouldn’t even make it to the first commercial break before our ‘cancel culture’ would have everyone fired.

Yet for all the promise of acidity and caustic comedy, “Madwomen of the West” treads tentatively, unsure of the response, which kind of misses the point. If it appeared to care less, we would probably care more. Like the piñata that hangs above the stage throughout but is never used, the full force of the show never strikes its target. So the real treats – the reward for persevering – are never released. Instead we are guided to a rather sugary ‘let’s-be-friends’ finale. I wonder if the Uber is still waiting outside.