Old Working Girl, We Hardly Knew Thee

Early in Julie Johnson, the title character's best friend declares "I feel like I don't even know you!" An outburst both of bitter sarcasm and exposed honesty, this declaration epitomizes the humanizing impetus of the play: the need for understanding and the overwhelming alienation of suburban life. In the last full production offered by the HRDC this semester, a small company presented a probing exploration of a middle-class home-maker in her quest to regain control over her own life and come to grips with herself.

Written by Wendy Hammond, a young up-and-rising playwright from the midwest, Julie Johnson is both emotionally challenging and wildly funny. Though it tackles issues ranging from sexual identity to motherhood, from middle-age stagnancy to the isolating effects of technology, the work is most successful as a tale of emotional introspection and human relationships. Though awkward in its moralizing aspirations, the play is elegant in its dealing with interpersonal relationships and personal frustrations of daily existence.

Set in contemporary Hoboken, New Jersey, the play opens as Julie (Edith H. Bishop '00) confesses her longtime obsession with computers and technology to friend and neighbor Claire (Claire E. Farley '01). With little experience in high school and even less self-confidence, Julie explains that she fears her own stupidity and inability to succeed. Though Claire initially lets her know that school doesn't have to be her thing, Julie eventually agrees to join her for night classes at a local community college. Telling neither her husband or her children, Julie quietly sets out on her efforts to redirect her life and discover herself.

When her family discovers that Julie, in fact, is not going to the movies twice a week, they degrade her intellectual curiosity. Her daughter Lisa (Erica P. Rabbit '00), calls her retarded, and her husband beats her when he finds out she is enrolled in the class. But this isolation and alienation only further pushes Julie to defend herself. She kicks her husband out of the house and takes on work to support her two children.

Initially alone in her drive to support her family, Julie is soon joined by Claire who, motivated by Julie's assertiveness, abandons her husband and begins searching for a job. The two begin to connect with each other in their conversations and emotional outbursts and come to respect each other, transcending the common homemaker small talk and cocktail party friendship.

Director Nick R. Parrillo '00 masterfully highlighted the duality of Julie's role. Alienated from children who do not respect her, attacked by an abusive husband and misunderstood by nearly everyone around her, Julie connects to each individual character on her own terms as she regains control of her life. As she continues to pursue her career, her studies and her ultimate goal of passing the G.E.D., she grows more self assured and begins to act as a role model to the rest of the cast. She challenges her children and best friend to to find themselves and look inward.

Julie Johnson is at its best when characters are allowed to interact and deal with the daily challenges of mundane life. Bishop, who displayed spectacular passion and fervor earlier this term as Lady Macbeth, turns her emotional intensity inwards as a quietly powerful individual. Julie's frustration with herself and her surroundings is brilliantly portrayed by Bishop; she slowly builds up her confidence while retaining her sensitivity and empathy.

Both Julie's son, Frank (Aaron D. Goldberg '01) and daughter Lisa first appear as caricatures and foils to her emotional depth and intensity. Through the first quarter of the production, their strong New Jersey accents and exaggerated expressions work well as part of the alienating background Julie fights against. Rabbit especially plays the hyperbolic daughter masterfully, serving as a curious specimen of the suburban wasteland.

But as their roles change and grow less comical and more complex, Goldberg and Rabbit successfully humanize initially unlike-able characters. Frank, who begins to support his mother and her aspirations earlier than his sister does, shows great difficulty in dealing with her relationship with Claire. Goldberg is sensitive with an aspect of Frank that is scripted more as melodrama than depth of character, and instead portrays the ambivalence of a confused and threatened son.

Farley is brilliant in her depiction of Claire, moderating comical absurdity and adding intensity to simplistically earnest emotions. With some dangerously cliched lines yet displaying incredible depth of character the novice to Harvard drama proves a worthy opposite to Bishop's Julie.

The father of the family doesn't ever appear on stage--yet his presence shatters scenes with the slamming of a door and the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Other characters recoil at the sound of his proximity, and his oppression is felt many scenes after he abandons his family.

Ultimately, Julie Johnson is an intense drama in which even pauses and silences are emotionally charged. Two parallel glimpses of the title character isolated in her own home--first as she alone weeps crouching on the floor of her living room, and then again, just as alone surrounded by her children and best friend--reveals a moving psychological portrait of a working woman.