STAGE REVIEW : ‘Mrs. California’ Is Three Years Older and Much Wiser

Doris Baizley was on to something when she wrote “Mrs. California” in 1985: feminist satire--something quite new at the time in the pantheon of dramatic literature.

It was staged as part of the Mark Taper’s In the Works program that year, and restaged early the next at the Coronet Theatre in a co-production with the L.A. Public Theatre. The two versions differed little, however, and the flaws noted at the Taper amid the praise were underlined at the Public.

Now, two years later, the play has surfaced at Garden Grove’s Gem Theatre where Baizley appears to have taken a hard look at the problems and come up with a stronger--and darker--examination of pre-feminism in the 1950s, when women were poised between putting aside the thrill of their participation in the war effort in favor of its presumed reward: a dream house in suburbia and a pampered life as housewives.

Huh. . . ? Precisely. Baizley astutely captures the stifling superficiality and sexism in the prevailing social attitudes that made women as well as men in those days bend to chauvinistic convention with astonishing docility.

Or so it now seems. To explore this premise, she has taken the worst example of sexist American invention--the beauty contest or, in this case, the poised homemaker contest--and pitted it against the first liberated woman: brassy Babs (nicely performed by Cherie Brown), a sexy, divorced former war plant whiz electrician, who comes to help her friend Dot, Mrs. Los Angeles (Robin Christiaens), in her attempt to win this contest. In the rowdy process, Babs manages to alienate almost everyone and provide an insight into the first stirrings of the impending revolution.

She’s the goad--the fulcrum of this play which employs the conceit of a female contest, entirely defined by male notions, to show up the outrageousness and hypocrisy of society’s expectations. In retrospect, it demonstrates why women had to rebel.

Along its bumpy ride, “Mrs. California” gives us many laughs, uneasy laughs--considerably more uneasy now than two years ago, when Baizley’s male characters were so cartoonish that they weakened the play. The feeling was that these particular men were too stupid to be representative of the breed. No more. Dudley (Dan Christiaens), Dot’s gas company sponsor, may not be God’s gift to humanity, but he’s a decent sort, an average guy trying to do a job. That he’s not a complete fool this time around means we listen better. That he’s blind to the job’s absurdities only reinforces the play’s central thesis.

“Mrs. California” is not black comedy. Many scenes still consist of those hilarious rounds of cooking, sewing, place-setting in the competition between Mesdames Modesto, San Bernardino, San Francisco and Los Angeles for the prize of becoming Mrs. California--but there now are more and richer scenes of sideline shenanigans, and far more believable exchanges, particularly between Dudley and Dot, even if Baizley still doesn’t explain why Mr . Dot, the happy husband, isn’t around.

But Baizley doesn’t get off scot-free. The scenes between Babs and Dudley can still use work. He seems an unlikely candidate for her aggressive romantic style--a peripheral aspect of the play. Not only does he declare himself early as a family man (why?), but he behaves as a stiff and unimaginative one at that. This makes it harder to believe Babs would bother or that he would respond.

Either Baizley’s new (and less punchy) start for the show or Thomas F. Bradac’s direction gets it off to a sluggish start, but the production picks up right after Babs’ first entrance and sprints along, steadily gathering momentum, to a stylish finish.

Robin Christiaens is a playful and vulnerable Dot, whose personal glow takes nothing away from Patty Lundberg’s sweet geniality as Mrs. Modesto (especially in a wistful cookie-sharing scene that enlarges the character), the frozen middle-class smile of Katherine James’ Mrs. San Bernardino or the peevish upper-crustiness of Deborah Gates’ Mrs. San Francisco. Each is precise and distinct.

In fact, these characteristics are nicely underscored by Karen J. Weller’s careful costuming and the period makeup by Gary Christensen. Gil Morales’ set and David Palmer’s lighting exude the bland, meticulous ‘50s. Sound by Chuck Estes and Wendy Brueder is fine.

Baizley will have another shot at refining the play when Lee Shallat stages it for Seattle’s A Contemporary Theatre. But the bulk of the work is done--and it’s good.

Performances at 12852 Main St., in Garden Grove run Wednesdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m. until March 26. Selected Sunday performances are March 6 and 13, 7:30 p.m., and March 20, 3 p.m. Tickets: $12-$15; (714) 636-7213.