In 'Penelope,’ a Heroine Spins a New Yarn Out of a Classic Epic at Signature Theatre.
By D. R. Lewis
If Bravo had been spinning off franchises in the 12th century BC, one can only imagine that Penelope would be the wine-soaked breakout star of the Real Housewives of Ithaca. Known to classicists as Odysseus’ faithful, languishing queen in Homer’s epic poem The Odyssey, Penelope takes on a darker edge in a new musical bearing her name by composer and lyricist Alex Bechtel and co-book writers Bechtel, Grace McLean, and Eva Steinmetz. A pseudo-cabaret that asks audiences to consider the story from her point of view, Penelope runs at Arlington’s Signature Theatre through April 21.
As the lights rise on Penelope, the audience finds the titular heroine (Jessica Phillips) sitting at a piano, waiting for her husband Odysseus to return from the Trojan War after 20 years away. Having angered Poseidon, Odysseus’ journey home has been marred by tempests and monsters, leaving Penelope wondering when, if ever, he will sail back to her. Despite the advances of dozens of eager suitors who have camped out in her foyer, she remains steadfast in her faithfulness to him. But frustrated in his absence, Penelope turns to alcohol, precipitating a cabaret-style performance that reveals the depths of her dedicated despair.
Jessica Phillips as PENELOPE at Signature Theatre. Photo by Daniel Radar
Musically, Penelope bursts with romantic elegance and engrossing tedium. Composed and orchestrated by Bechtel, the score utilizes lovely, string-heavy interludes to color the soundscape and transition between key songs and sequences. In “Prayer,” Penelope chronicles her daily religious ritual, hoping to curry enough favor with Athena to bring Odysseus home. The song soon transitions to a stirring recitation of another of Penelope’s rituals: weaving beautiful images on her loom each day, only to unravel them each night to keep her suitors at bay. As Penelope, Phillips is spellbinding in “The Pilgrim Song,” pondering what her life may have become with just a few different decisions. And channeling Joni Mitchell in “I Do,” a song recounting their wedding and early love, Phillips is simply transcendent.
But as Penelope’s score soars, its book and direction often stumble in deference. In a slow start, Penelope rises from the piano only to wander the stage as the five instrumental musicians slowly take their places. In fact, under Steinmetz’s direction, Penelope spends much of the show wandering around the small stage, snugly bordered by the audience on three sides in Signature’s cozy ARK space. At times, Phillips appears stranded center stage while the music plays, leaving one wondering: is this a character at an anguishing standstill or an actor with nowhere to go?
Jessica Phillips as PENELOPE at Signature Theatre. Photo by Daniel Radar
And therein lies Penelope’s biggest challenge. At a brief 70 minutes, the writers struggle to stretch the compelling parts of its story enough to fill even that amount of time. The book is front-loaded with lengthy, meandering exposition, ranging from the whereabouts of Penelope’s husband to the floorplan of her cliffside manse, before transitioning into a veritable meditation. And while other sequences of spoken text come and go more organically, often with the benefit of Bechtel’s underscoring, one can’t shake the hunch that the musical’s best songs were composed first, with the remainder of the material devised around them.
Mixed messages and fleeting directorial choices certainly don’t help. Early in the show, Penelope pours a hefty cocktail and proclaims, “If we're going to talk about the Trojan War, I need a drink.” But despite large gulps, Penelope’s journey into drunkenness is short-lived, at least in Phillips’ performance. Rather than grow progressively more drunk, she appears increasingly sober so that by the time she finally excises a big bottle of booze from the stage in what is meant to be an empowering rejection, it appears more like spring cleaning.
Penelope does so only half-heartedly at other opportunities to assert herself as a person independent of her husband. When the band, under the direction of Ben Moss, channels their inner Athena (complete with confetti in a delightful turn), they refer to her as, “Penelope, wife of Odysseus,” employing increasingly suggestive adjectives to accentuate his unseen manliness. Penelope hilariously and refreshingly rejects their naming of her in relation to her husband, but is soon back to singing longingly for his return. And again, in “Resolution,” she appears to flirt with the idea of abandoning her waiting and beginning anew, but, in line with the source material, does not. Anguishing standstill or nowhere to go?
The ARK’s compact playing area could prove a challenge for any performer, but Phillips makes the most of the space, maneuvering around the small stage and working hard to engage the audience. She is an excellent interpreter of Bechtel’s music and does what she can with the uneven book. Statuesque in a silky green blouse, blue trousers, and sandals (by costume designer Danielle Preston), she appears to be the ancient Greek embodiment of “The Ladies Who Lunch.”
Scenic designer Paige Hathaway makes dual use of the theater’s back wall, installing curvy, textured boards to evoke both the hills of Ithaca and the rolling waves that Penelope prays will bring Odysseus home. Working in conjunction with lighting designer Jesse Belsky, the plaster panels are illuminated with contrasting colors, adding dimension and mimicking the moody hues of sunrise and sunset. Eric Norris’ sound design keeps Phillips front and center but at times begs for more percussion from both the drums and piano to accentuate the sharp edges of her yearning.
A new theatrical work, Penelope does not yet feel like it’s reached its ideal form. While an easy comparison could be made to Anaïs Mitchell’s Hadestown, Bechtel’s approach to this story with Steinmetz and McLean fundamentally differs in their rejection of plot-driven structure. Accordingly, Penelope makes her most compelling case through sung ruminations on love and longing. Conceived first as a concept album, perhaps the heart of Penelope is best served in that medium. The Housewives are unscripted, but they still have story editors.
Penelope, with music and lyrics by Alex Bechtel and book by Bechtel, Grace McLean and Eva Steinmetz, runs at the Signature Theatre, 4200 Campbell Avenue, Arlington, Virginia, through April 21, 2024. Running time is approximately 70 minutes with no intermission. Tickets are available at https://www.sigtheatre.org/plan-your-visit/
D.R. Lewis is a writer and communications professional based in Washington, DC. He is a graduate of The George Washington University and was the 2016 recipient of the Astere E. Claeyssens Prize in Playwriting. His work has appeared in DC Theater Arts, Washington City Paper, and The DC Line. He is an Associate Member of the American Theatre Critics Association. Follow him on Instagram and X at @DRLDoesDrama.