During her
lifetime (1872-1952), Hamilton wrote with energy and conviction in several
genres: journalism, fiction, and memoir. Often, this feminist castigated what
seems to have enraged her the most: the subjugation of women. The
governess-turned-rebel title character of Phyl (which closed this past weekend at the Mint Theater) represented an especially vibrant example of such wayward
social freethinkers.
At Oxford University, where the play was originally set to premiere in 1913, that attitude didn’t appeal to its Vice Chancellor, who heavily criticized Hamilton’s view of marriage as an only marginally valuable institution.
The
author explained to a friend that “PHYL has passed the Lord Chamberlain, who did
not require the alteration of a single line, but the Vice Chancellor appears to
possess a kind of medieval power in these matters…you may make fun of a
departure from conventional ideas, but apparently you are not allowed to treat
it seriously.”
Luckily the university kept copies of all plays submitted for approval—a godsend, because, despite acclaimed runs in Brighton, Edinburgh, Manchester and even Chicago over the following year, Phyl was never published. That archive was where the manuscript was found years later when Jonathan Bank, curious about scattered references to the play, went searching for it.
He found gold in Ms. Hamilton’s heroine, Phyllis (Phyl) Chester, an English governess tasked with handling two bratty daughters and their snobby mother.
“I’m shut away from men in my own station of life—whatever that may be—as I’m shut away from everyone else,” Phyl moans. “That’s what I’m paid for—to be shut away. I look on and see other people happy—and, O God! I do so want to be happy myself…”
Even Phyl’s much older sister, Cathy, offers no appropriate example, having sacrificed her own happiness to help raise Phyl after their mother’s death left them orphaned. The issue is forced when Phyl, pushed too far, blows up at her two young charges and finds herself out of the Ponsonby household.
An unexpected savior appears in the form of Jack Folliott (played with charm, subtlety and sympathy by Anthony Michael Martinez), a visitor that Mrs. Ponsonby had sized up as marriage material for her oldest daughter. At first merely fearing sorry for Phyl, he finds himself drawn to her
A relationship with Jack offers Phyl access to money that will buy her all the things she has missed for years. But what will respectable people think if they discover the two are living together? And can their love survive if this scion of a wealthy family discovers that his trust fund has been looted?
Hamilton was part of a British theatrical tradition, stretching from George Bernard Shaw to Miles Malleson (whose Yours Unfaithfully was adapted by the Mint in 2017), that questioned contemporary attitudes about marriage.
But this suffragette differed from these males by writing with a bone-deep understanding of the challenges that a young woman with no prospects faced in a limited sociopolitical environment. She was very well served by the care and brio that the Mint creative team brought to this production.
Lily Ganser was a particularly vibrant presence as Phyl, and Martinez carefully showed how his character—one whose intentions the audience was fully prepared to question—possessed an inner sense of honor that matched his outward sense of humor.
Katie Firth’s Mrs. Ponsonby demonstrated how her character, preternaturally oriented towards bullying, could be comically thrown for a loss when her expectations were overturned. Livvy Marcus, Charlotte Van Ledtje, and Tessa Bilmes were pitch-perfect as the young daughters already showing the baleful impact of their mother’s “moral” training.
At the performance I attended, the Mint continued its tradition of post-show “Enrichment Activities” in which speakers discuss an aspect of the production with the audience.
In this case, artistic director Jonathan Bank led director Britt Berke, dramaturge Amy Stoller, and the design team members Brittany Vasta (sets), M.L. Geiger (lighting), and Jane Shaw (sound) shared insights into the staging of the show, including how they used these elements to suggest Phyl’s psychological development and how they worked around the theater’s unique size dimensions.
Today’s
theatergoers will not be shocked by Phyl’s challenges to class and sex
conventions the way that its initial audiences were. But Hamilton’s feminist
cry of the heart still had charm to spare in this typically handsomely,
tastefully mounted Mint production.
