One often hears of Neil Simon's latter-day seriocomic works, such as Lost in Yonkers and The Dinner Party, but his best work in a bittersweet vein—the lesser-known The Gingerbread Lady—actually arrived way back in 1970. Primarily known for its 1981 film adaptation, Only When I Laugh, starring an Oscar-nominated Marsha Mason, the narrative provides an alternately funny and heartrending portrait of a troubled menopausal singer (in the film, an actress), battling to overcome alcoholism and an abusive relationship. The Theatre District's uneven rendition of this underrated work is bolstered by three fine performances.
Foremost among the production's strengths is Alice Ensor's delicately shaded portrayal in the lead role of Evy Meara. Ensor boasts a physical resemblance to actress Jill Clayburgh, bringing to mind Clayburgh's quality of surface toughness masking fragility, which is ideal for Simon's likable but edgy heroine. The script briefly refers to Evy as a nymphomaniac, which is also hinted at in an awkwardly written and played scene in which she flagrantly flirts with a Puerto Rican delivery boy (the unconvincing Jeff Smith). But her frustration seems mostly to stem from a failed love affair with a younger, freeloading musician (credibly played by Christian Holiday). Ensor finds the perfect balance between understated humor and darker undercurrents. Simon's crisp dialogue sounds more like believable human speech than the standup comedy rhythms we get in many of his works.
Less successful at finding the proper blend of moods is David Colley as Evy's gay friend Jimmy, who is frustrated by his stalled acting career. Colley needs more nuance in his line readings to bring out the irony in his quips and the pain beneath the bitchiness. But the character of Evy's other close pal, Toby, is in the expert hands of Christi Sweeney as a former beauty queen who realizes past glories are over when her husband abruptly dumps her. Sweeney superbly captures the self-delusions of this Barbie Doll woman whose stilted speech patterns and obsession with appearance don't hide the virtues of a good-hearted, compassionate friend. As Evy's neglected daughter Polly, Jessica Learned gives a superficial performance, with her shrill outbursts of rage arriving too suddenly and without sufficiently built motivation.
Director Mario Lescot does a creditable job of staging the action on the handsome and meticulously detailed Manhattan apartment set (credited to Two Blue Chairs, Inc.). The spotty lighting design (credited to Extended Visions) seems to be aiming for an ambient dimness, but a clearer view of the actors' facial expressions would be preferable, particularly during their upstage entrances. (This is Neil Simon, not Ingmar Bergman.) Rose Thibeault's costumes are appropriately rendered. Thanks to the handful of fine performances, this brittle Gingerbread Lady is worth sampling.
"The Gingerbread Lady," presented by the Theatre District at the Cast Theatre, 804 N. El Centro, Hollywood. Thurs.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 7 p.m. Mar. 9-Apr. 14. $15-20. (323) 957-2343.