A lot can happen behind closed doors in someone’s bedroom. It’s a concept that Lynn Nottage understood when writing Intimate Apparel: a play that perfectly unravels like the clothes that protagonist Esther seams together. Throughout 1905, she travels to various homes in Manhattan, New York doing what she can to make her clients look good. As they are fitted and offered breathtaking silks, they share their secrets and present a world that is at first unassuming but by the second act becomes something shocking and gripping. The Long Beach Playhouse’s production may be small in scale, but the expansive plotting works very well at capturing every clever detail stitched into the rich narrative.
Esther (Alisha Elaine Anderson) doesn’t seem like she’ll amount to much in her life. Besides having access to the most fashionable outfits, she is limited in part because of her race and social class, more having to vicariously fantasize through other people’s lavish experiences. From the stage, these actors are allowed to become as flamboyant and grand as they can, especially Mayme (Rena Bobbs) whose prostitution has put her in contact with an equally fascinating group of clientele. There’s stories of romance and frustration mixed in, finding Esther trying to become more than a spinster who never experienced love. As it parallels the loveless marriage of Mrs. Van Buren (Allison Lynn Adams), there is the question of whether love is all that important, or if Esther will just be wasted at dinner parties, feeling disconnected from the life she lives.
Throughout Act I, there is one shining hope that appears from the aisleways of the theater. Much like Esther’s desire to sew, she romanticizes with George (James F. Webb III) who works off the land and comes across as the nicest, most noble man in the ensemble. Given that Mrs. Van Buren helps Esther write elegant prose back, Nottage’s tale is already presenting layers of how every character is deflecting something vulnerable for the ideal vision of love. George seems perfect, eventually coming to embody a photograph of an “unnamed negro couple” on their wedding day. As the lights flash, the vision splashes on the walls of the theater, revealing connectivity to reality, that the fiction is paving the way for something maybe too real.
Credit should be given to the cast for making Intimate Apparel come to life with an unassuming charm that only grows more devious as things continue. With limited space for sets, the actors navigate between locations as Esther introduces the ways that she attempts to please her customers. Sometimes it’s instinct, others are just recycling outfits from other clients. With solid costume work, the story manages to embrace its retro charm as Mayme plays ragtime piano and the title cards for various scenes appear as the lights transition. With limited sets that include pianos, sewing machines, beds, and a makeshift silk shop, the practical use of space makes it all flow together nicely, creating connectivity that makes its use by Act II feel more congruent by design.
For what it’s worth, Act II is where the meat of Intimate Apparel is found. As slow and delicate as those early moments are, the audience is taken in by the shocking revelations that form one right after another as Esther returns to these various bedrooms. Suddenly the exploration of false niceties is steamrolled into something more tense and horrifying, finding desperate actions being formed that play well with the actors’ personalities. With very subtle shifts, a smiling face that gained the audience’s trust turns evil and suddenly mundane details become cherished heirlooms. The audience wants everything to stay secure, and it’s clear, tragically, that it may not be that simple.
With an enthusiastic crowd, Intimate Apparel works very well as a character study in Act I and a mystery by Act II. With a very simple structure featuring rotating characters and tangible plot devices, the story comes to life with personality and intrigue. Despite a few sound issues, it’s another success for The Long Beach Playhouse and one that uses its cast very well. What it lacks in cohesiveness, it more than makes up for with moments that pop, catching the audience off guard and second guessing everything that came before. It’s a nice looking show and one that effectively uses every character to reveal how costume work can spruce up bad intentions, where the nicest looking person can be the meanest. Some could be evil without having bad intentions. It’s a complicated world, and Nottage captures it beautifully. It’s a romp that has heart within its tragedy, and that’s what makes it more than fancy set dressing.
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