I Am My Own Wife is a rare work that does not merely draw a one noted portrayal of its heroine but fully explores their more questionable aspects and confronts how we record history and the difficulty of finding truth about one individual. Wright had the sense initially that he had discovered a spotless hero in the transvestite Charlotte von Mahlsdorf, a survivor of both the Nazis and the Communists in East Germany. However, as he discovers that she has perhaps been an informer for the secret police, the lies she has told the playwright unravel and there is little certainty in her autobiography.On the page, it is difficult to get an idea of what the experience of the play is actually like live, which is easily one of the most stunning plays i've seen in New York. Since the text is composed of what would appear to be scenes between multiple characters, reading it you may imagine something quite different than what is intended and you may picture actual moments between a group of people interacting onstage. However, since the play is written to be performed by one actor as a live event it becomes more about the complexity of a single individual rather than relationships between people. Since the play is meant to be performed with one important exception by a transvestite dressed in merely a simple black dress and a string of pearls, it appears as though one person comes to be so many different things in different situations. Like the nature of Charlotte, the main character, we get a sense as an audience that individuals are not merely one thing or another, but rather their nature is fluid, malleable, and often depends on who is perceiving it.I highly recommend seeing the production as opposed to reading it because this is thorougly a play crafted for the live event and not the reader, but the text does enhance the experience somewhat. It is a bit clearer which character is speaking when you read the text due to the delineations as opposed to watching one man attempt to portray distinctly and clearly at least 40 character. Mays illuminates the role on broadway but one individual can only do so much. Also, the sense we get of the playwright's struggle to deal with the flaws in Charlotte due to his obsession seemed more apparent to me when reading it. I Am My Own Wife is an intelligent, funny, and heartbreaking work and i believe it will influence and move theatre artists, audiences and readers for decades to come. I Am My Own Wife
Nothing can match seeing "I Am My Own Wife" on stage. I had the distinctive privilege of scooping a ticket to a recent performance at the Lyceum Theatre on Broadway, and it was among the most memorable theatrical experiences I've ever had. Moises Kaufman's direction is simple yet incomparably graceful and subtle. And if Jefferson Mays doesn't receive a Tony for his miraculous portrayal of some forty-odd characters, then there is no justice, in awards giving or the world. But if you can't see it live, I beg of you to read the beautiful and challenging words of Doug Wright's play. The beginning is almost mundane: an elderly German transvestite, discussing her antique furniture collection. As the story unfurls, we begin to hear, through the eyes and ears of the astonished author, the story of Charlotte von Mahlsdorf, who survived both the Nazi and Communist regimes as a transvestite. Her dark and fascinating tale of survival pins you to your seat, as the intricate detail and low-key wit of the words fleshes out this true heroine. Or is she? As the first act comes to a close, documents begin to surface that falsify many of Charlotte's stories. In fact, she may have worked for the Communist secret police in order to survive. Is Charlotte to be trusted and admired, as she denies all the accusations? The choice is yours. But as he explores notions of shared history, the elusive nature of truth, and the real definition of heroism, Wright unearths unnerving and provocative truths that reverberate within your soul long after the curtain falls, or the last page is turned. Don't let the seemingly esoteric subject matter fool you. The story of "I Am My Own Wife" is all the more distinguished because of the universiality of its reach and the power of its final message.
"I am my Own Wife" is the new play (2004) by Doug Wright (screenplay writer of Quills) based on his interviews and friendship with the late gay German crossdressed hausfrau, Lothar Berfelde, better known as Charlotte Von Mahlsdorf. A magnificent one-man show that mesmerized Broadway, actor Jefferson Mays played thirty-five separate characters.
The title comes from 40-year-old Charlotte's answer to his mother's clueless plea "don't you think it's time you settled down and found a wife?": "But, Mutti, don't you know that I am my own wife?"
Do buy (and go see) this play! It is well-written, entertaining, very "theatrical," and you will enjoy reading and discussing it with your friends. I also recommend Charlotte Von Mahlsdorf's autobiography. (See my "So You Want To . . . be Your Own Wife" guide to find more materials related to Charlotte's life and times).
HOWEVER . . . it may sound contradictory, given what I've said, but I have a lot of problems with the central character of Charlotte. I've thought for days about this play and the story. I was very attracted to it because of the sheer theatricality of the situation and the character, not to mention the frisson of the "non-drag-queen-drag-queen." But, despite myself, I have been bothered by something that hasn't struck me quite right.
Charlotte is astonishing because this dowdy cross-dresser survived both the Nazis and the subsequent communists to become the leading expert on the Grunderzeit period (approx. 1835-1918) of German furniture design.
That said, there is something strange at the core of this piece: this central character of Charlotte, this hopefully sympathetic trope for beauty and the everlasting human spirit, despite survival at all odds (or maybe because?)---is an empty, severely alienated person. "Autistic" and "disconnected" are the words that stick in my mind. He never really connects with anyone, hermetically sealed in a world of obsession for this furniture and a fantasy past constructed to block out horrible realities. He (debatably) sells out his friends. He is born, lives, and dies for (and with) . . . the furniture. I can't love him because he can't possibly love me back.
For an example of this genre where real human love and sacrifice are manifest, read the play "Bent."
This is my final analysis after discussing it with many friends.
The whole confection is tasty but, after the meal, there has been no lasting nourishment.
Again, it has been a fun process of discovery and I whole-heartedly recommend reading this play. Whaddaya think? Do you agree or disagree? Read and see. - Dramatists Play Service'
Detail Products
Detail Reviews
Click here for more information
