‘Women’ succeed – in Act II> Albee play starts slow

Edward Albee’s “Three Tall Women,” which opened last weekend at the Opera House in Bangor, is one of the most infuriating plays you may ever see. The women in it are vixens and vultures, and the one actual man is virtually mute and most of the others are mocked. The whole lot is, at turns, detestable, pitiful — and frightfully bewitching. Trouble is, you have to wait a long, long time before the fireworks go off.

In other words, this 1994 Pulitzer-Prize-winning script does something somewhat backward in theater. It has a second act that is far richer than the first act, and this Penobscot Theatre production, directed by Jenna Ware, doesn’t entirely overcome the slow parts.

This is no fault of Corinna May, who pumps up every scene with a dose of onstage sophistication. May makes each line sound as if she thought it up right there in the heat or humor of the moment. Hers is a rare talent, whether she’s playing a maid-secretary in Act I, or a 52-year-old jaded — if not jilted and ascerbic — wife in Act II. She makes fearless use of the Opera House’s vast space, and it’s thrilling to hear an aggressively audible performer who isn’t shrill or shouting.

Even more than that, May is thoroughly an Albee woman. Cocksure and saucy, she makes you long to see her play Martha in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” It takes a pretty powerful actor to make someone want to go through that drama again.

Albee has called this play overtly biographical and purgative of the ghost of his adopted mother, who ultimately rejected his lifestyle and cut him out of her life when he was 18. When it opened in New York City, the play met with mixed critical reviews, and then won the Pulitzer. (Just for the record, the only playwright who has won more is Eugene O’Neill, who was awarded a fourth Pulitzer posthumously.)

In terms of Albee’s life, it follows that the plot of “Three Tall Women” explores the intentions and permutations of one woman’s life. When we meet woman A, she is withered by old age, riddled with pain, and haunted by bad memories. A young legal representative, woman C, has come to visit in the hopes of settling outstanding bills and commandeering financial say-so. Then there’s woman B, a nurse of sorts, who referees the two others, taking tissues to A and giving tips to C.

They are a clawing bunch, and their conversation just barely serves to set up Act II, which had absolutely riveting moments on opening night. Those people who left at the intermission — not because of the actors, but because the action seemed to drag — missed the dramatic pique.

In this part of the play, woman A is split into three versions of herself — at 26, 52 and ninetysomething — and the three towering women carry on a somewhat supernatural conversation, sharing memories of the years gone by. This is where the actors shine. Meagan Burrichter nearly bursts out of her dimples as the sparkling young version, and she dances in the role. Her spirit is the very Charleston of youthful idealism.

Muriel Kenderdine, as the grand dame, strained at times to get the lines out and the rhythms right. But she also found depths in this worn-down woman. She may not always have the grace one would hope for, but she gives the role dignity and humor.

The cascading sheer curtains and heirloom furniture of Greg Mitchell’s set are part chic boudoir and part funereal frill. Lynne Chase’s lighting passes through like pastel-colored clouds on a breezy day. Jane Snider’s costumes reliably give realism to Act I, symbolism to Act II.

“Three Tall Women” is a challenging play because it forces tormented marital, familial and social histories to the forefront. At its best, it cuts through to something profoundly jagged about American life. At its worst, it asks us to care about people who are not particularly likable. The Penobscot Theatre may waddle through some of the flabby parts, but when it’s time to send of the flairs, the stage is on fire.

Penobscot Theatre will present “Three Tall Women” through May 21 at the Opera House on Main Street in Bangor. For tickets, call