The Beauty Queen

It's been a long long while that theater has moved me as much as The Beauty Queen of Leenane has. The first play I have seen where I was not watching my daughter in a play- but rather watched her character- alternately sympathetic and pathetic. Seeing how the playwright managed to jerk me back every time I felt a pang of empathy for one of the character. Amazed that any character in that play was human or humane.

The last show in college for Jody. And a triumph. Imagine a beauty queen inhabiting a 70 year old invalid body. The beauty queen my lovely lovely daugher- the 70 year old- her character.
The last show- but a new beginning I think- as Jo makes her way into new worlds and new experiences. Clearly very prepared.

I have not stopped thinking about that play- details and bits of dialogue just won't leave me. But that is the genius and madness of Martin McDonagh. I have see another of his pieces- tried to walk out it was so gruesome- but it was one act and I could not. Not sure what it is about these Irish playwrights. Grim is a kind word...

But the gift of seeing the talents of Jo on stage. Something I shall not soon forget. And perhaps precisely because when I watched that play I forgot it was Jody up there.