Women have long turned to the past to understand their place in the present. Many “great women” of history have served as role models and sources of inspiration –though the specific women celebrated have changed over time.
In the past, historians immortalised “women worthies” such as queens and saints. Today, the roster is broader and more diverse, though the purpose is the same: to elevate and educate.
Belvoir St Theatre’s Well-Behaved Women promises a show of uplifting entertainment, in which a series of songs “celebrate the ways in which their bad-ass behaviour helped them make history”. The show, directed by Blazey Best, involves a series of performances on an uncluttered stage accompanied by three musicians.
Although it is described as a musical, the show feels closer to a cabaret. Four excellent performers (Zahra Newman, Stefanie Caccamo, Elenoa Rokobaro and Ursula Yovich) play 16 women in total, from Eve, to Cleopatra, to Malala Yousafzai and Cathy Freeman.
Spotlight on strong women
It gestures to traditions of feminist theatre which mined history for stories of women’s oppression and resistance, such as the 1972 Australian feminist performance Betty Can Jump.
It also sits within a contemporary wave of plays that dramatise the lives of famous women, such as Suzie Miller’s RBG: Of Many, One and Joanna Murray-Smith’s Julia. These “you go girl” shows share a few hallmarks: they celebrate singular women rather than the movements that enabled them, and they don’t dig too deeply into their flaws.
Well-Behaved Women provides a twist on this formula by telling a series of stories entirely through song (together with judicious use of onstage screens). The songs tend to either tell a story from the woman’s life, or convey an emotional state that helps understand her life.
The women, depicted through broad female archetypes, are either victims of the patriarchy or defiant in the face of it.
Musically striking, but lyrically a letdown
The variety of musical genres drawn from adds a further layer of interpretation: Ursula Yovich’s warrior Boudicca conjures Tina Turner in Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, while Stefanie Caccamo’s number about Shakespeare’s imagined sister, with its refrain of “poor Judith”, resembles a folk ballad.
Composer and lyricist Carmel Dean is an Australian who has worked in the United States for many years, so the first version of this show (performed in New York) included songs about Eleanor Roosevelt and Ruth Bader Ginsberg. The Australian version has replaced these with tributes to Australian women including Grace Tame, Julia Gillard and swimmers Fanny Durack and Mina Wylie.
One song, Fruit Bowl, pokes fun at the media’s obsession with Gillard’s empty fruit bowl captured in an at-home photoshoot. This song got the biggest applause of the night.
The four performers filled the Belvoir space with their powerful voices. Their performances were moving and, at times, very funny.
Musically, the show has diversity and range. Lyrically, however, the limitations of its omnibus structure became clear. Many of the songs were direct, even didactic –which is perhaps to be expected in such a production.
But in a show about women’s experiences, in all their complexity and variety, perhaps greater subtlety in the lyrics was in order. The lack of a strong narrative structure also left some of the songs adrift: I felt Billie Jean King’s number, for example, might have been better replaced by one about another Australian woman.
History, polished and packaged
As an historian, I was left wondering: what kind of history does this tell? We’re presented with 16 different stories of well-known women from the past, but to what end? If you ask the audience – who responded with enthusiastic applause and a standing ovation – they would probably tell you it was a highly entertaining and inspiring night out.
Well-Behaved Women is certainly a showcase for its talented performers, who demonstrate range and virtuosity. But it reminded me of those feminist children’s books that have become popular over the last few years.
These books have responded to a growing desire for feminist role models for children – but they also represent a tendency to smooth off feminism’s jagged edges for broader consumption.
This show performs a similar feat. There’s no reason women’s history can’t be entertaining, but we would do well to ponder what we might lose alongside the nuance.
Michelle Arrow receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
