The Maids

The intensity simmers at just below the boiling point through much of this production of Jean Genet's "The Maids." And it seems to be exactly the right temperature for this heady cocktail of ritual role-playing, class hatred, humiliation, self-loathing, and sexuality. If you begin to feel more than a mite uncomfortable watching the two committed women playing the titular roles, it's undoubtedly what Genet wanted in this classic of post–World War II French theater, first performed in 1947. (The show uses Bernard Frechtman's translation.)

Sisters Claire and Solange work for the imperious Madame, and when she's not around they spend their time acting out how they will kill her. When we first see the maids, Solange is playing her sister, while Claire is portraying Madame, and identities continue to slip back and forth as the play progresses and Madame herself appears. The urgency of the maids' fantasy is heightened by the fact that they have sent anonymous letters to the authorities falsely accusing Madame's lover of a crime. He had been arrested but now has been released. Madame goes off to celebrate with him, and the maids worry that their plot will be uncovered.

Director Tracy Cameron Francis has staged the production for maximum immediacy within the fairly intimate quarters of a rehearsal studio, imaginatively transformed into Madame's boudoir. Laura Taber Bacon's nicely detailed set design has the walls covered with garment bags, suggesting Madame's affluence. The audience is clustered like peeping Toms at one end of the space.

Bushra Laskar as Solange and Iracel Rivero as Claire give beautifully calibrated performances in these difficult roles. Their portrayals are awash in waves of emotion, but they never lose credibility and manage to hold on to audience empathy. Madame is portrayed by Alex Runnels, a lanky black fellow bedecked in a blond wig and high heels. But there's little sense of the drag queen in his straightforward performance. Rather, it adds to Genet's off-kilter vision of reality.

Emily Lippolis' costumes and Julian Mesri's eerie sound design are other fine points of this ambitious production from a young theater company.


Presented by Curious Frog Theatre Company at Studio 606, Roy Arias Theatre Center, 300 W. 43rd St., NYC. April 24–May 8. Fri.–Sun., 7:30 p.m. (800) 838-3006 or www.brownpapertickets.com.