Over-80 Playwrights Embrace Stage of Life

Estelle was on the phone. Again.

She wanted me to come to one of her theater productions. Again.

She was performing her one-woman show, “Window Panes.” Again.

I was noncommittal. Again.

Estelle wouldn’t take maybe for an answer. “Window Panes,” she reminded me, was the tale of older women battling for dignity in a disposable, youth-oriented America. “And March is International Women’s Month,” she pointed out. “That would be a good hook for you.”

Estelle Busch works the angles. The problem was, I’d already written about Estelle a couple of years back, after she celebrated her 80th birthday. Oh, but I hadn’t written about Alice Josephs, Estelle’s co-author on “Window Panes,” and Alice is a year older than Estelle. And Alice would be backstage, working the sound.

But let’s be honest. The main reason I said yes this time is that saying no to Estelle is like saying no to your own grandmother. “Please, darling, please come,” she says. Say no and the guilt lingers.

So on Sunday afternoon I dutifully arrived at the Lankershim Arts Center in North Hollywood and took my place in Synthaxis Theatre Company’s little 48-seat space.

*

All but six of the seats were empty. No matter. The show must go on . . .

The telephone rings in Ann Green’s apartment.

“Hello . . . Do I know what day this is? . . . Yes, yes, I know.” And now there was irritation in Ann’s voice. “I know I’ll be 65 next week and I know about the company policy. . . . Is that why you called? . . . I thought you were calling to wish me happy birthday. . . . Yes, of course, I know I have to retire. Yesterday I was a valuable person, today I’m a nobody. . . . That’s not the right attitude? How can you say that? . . . “

And so on.

Ann Green’s story, I would later learn, was Alice Josephs’ story. Forced into retirement at age 65, Alice Josephs would find other administrative work and dedicate herself to earning her bachelor’s degree from Cal State Northridge, completing a quest that began with night classes years before. She has been widowed twice. Her first husband was killed in battle during World War II; her second died at age 56.

And in her 60s, she became a playwright, promoting a feminist viewpoint not usually associated with her generation. Before writing “Window Panes,” she collaborated with her friend Estelle on “A Woman’s Place,” in which Estelle portrays six women of American history, Ann Hutchison of the Puritan settlers to Susan B. Anthony of the women’s suffrage movement and Bella Abzug of recent times. Her children’s play, “Stars in Her Eyes,” was performed at the Los Angeles Childrens Museum.

Maybe Alice Josephs didn’t get drunk at her (forced) retirement party. But Ann Green does, lurching around with a bottle of champagne, not going gracefully.

“When I was 30,” Ann says, “I had tried to go back to college, but I was told I wouldn’t be able to compete with the younger students. I was too old! So at age 55 I went back to school. Oh, my children were so proud to see their mother’s articles in the school newspaper.

“I’ve always been a survivor. I’ve survived wars and the Great Depression, lost one husband in World War II and another from heart disease. I’ve survived fires, serious illness, five operations and raised four children as a widow, and now they tell me I can’t type anymore because I’m 65.

“Sixty-five is the age when one gains just enough experience to lose one’s job . . . “

She swigs champagne and a funny thing starts happening to her soliloquy. Ann’s anger fades and she talks of the opportunity.

“What is 65? A number. . . . My children have left the nest and I’m no longer needed at home. Now I have time, plenty of it . . . time to relax, time to have fun, to pursue hobbies. It’s time for more activity, more excitement, time to see new things, meet new people. . . . I’ve earned the right to make my life more glamorous. . . . “

Sixty-five, Ann Green concludes, is “only the beginning.”

*

Then Estelle portrays Carla, the aging actress based on herself, trying to juggle motherhood and a career. The other characters are the products of imagination more than experience. There’s also Fanny, the grandmotherly narrator who serves as a bridge between the tales; and June, the hot-to-trot 60-something Southern divorcee who declares over the phone, “Mama, you’re so square you blush when somebody uses the word intersection”, and poor Paula, abandoned by her children to a nursing home after she breaks a hip. (We hear Paula plotting her escape.)

At the end, you could hear the sound of 12 hands clapping. Perhaps it was just as well that the audience was small, considering the technical problems. At one point during Ann Green’s segment, the stage went dark. For a moment I wondered whether, given the theme, it might have been a stagy bit of symbolism--forced retirement as the instant fade-out. From the darkness came Estelle’s voice. “A minor glitch,” she assured the audience, before the lights returned and Estelle pushed on.

There were other problems too. The first time the phone kept ringing after Estelle answered it, I cringed. By the fifth or sixth time it happened, the effect, with Estelle gamely talking through the glitches, had achieved a certain charm.

Perseverance, after all, is what “Window Panes” is all about. To this viewer, this performance was just a play within a larger drama. After all, Ann and Carla aren’t really as interesting, as compelling, as Alice and Estelle.

But, Estelle, don’t think that means I’ll cover your next production, OK?

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to Harris at the Times Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth 91311. Please include a phone number.