“… this version soars”
Alethea Mouhtouris
4.5 Stars
Venue: The Guild Theatre
Rockdale
Dates: Until 13th June 2026
Neil Simon’s scripts are always brilliant but a great production brings them to life. And .
With tight direction, a well-chosen cast, phenomenal set and costumes, director Lyn Lee has succeeded in bringing the nuances of a loving but struggling Brooklyn family to the Guild Theatre.
Lee delivers a masterful production of this coming-of-age play based in part on playwright Neil Simon’s experiences growing up. Set in 1937, this first part of a trilogy focuses on the challenges faced by a Brooklyn-based Jewish family bound by poverty, responsibility to family, fear of upcoming war, and the internal conflict of balancing a principled existence with pragmatism in an environment of want.
Samuel Chapman plays Eugene Morris Jerome who comically narrates his family’s misadventures over the course of a couple of weeks. Baseball mad, Eugene is on the verge of puberty and spends his time vacillating between dreams of being a writer and playing for the New York Yankees, both of which he would happily consider conceding for the thrill of seeing a naked girl for even two and a half seconds.
Eugene’s household is cramped – he shares a room with older brother Stanley because his widowed aunt and her two daughters live with them in their small two-storey home. This is where the skill of set designer David Pointon really shines. Pointon reflects the reality of cramped family life through use of a two-level dollhouse set, showing two first floor bedrooms complete with beds and usual identifiers of each inhabitant (pointe shoes, books, posters) as well as the downstairs entryway, living, and dining rooms. It’s a clever technique that allows all seven cast members to be on set for much of the time without overwhelming the stage, and shows the constant flow of moment in the home.
Eugene’s father is almost solely responsible for funding the household of seven, working himself to exhaustion and a near-disastrous ending, while his mother is familiar to any woman who juggles the enormous mental, emotional, and physical load of caring for others.
The casting of Chapman as young Eugene is inspired. His blue-collar Brooklyn accent is nailed down, his comedic timing immaculate, his projection strong. He’s that familiar child in the family who is blamed for everything but manages to carry it with humour and the occasional ‘what ya gonna do?’ shrug. He carries the play effortlessly in a way that suggests decades of theatre training and experience. Definitely someone to watch.
Equally, Koren Chambers fully inhabits the role of the tired, fed-up mother, Kate. She simmers with contained rage at their situation; shows love with restraint and the gentlest of touch as she passes a loved one; holds her family together despite their best efforts to break it down. Kate is the woman who, in different circumstances, would have steered a company to success, or led a team with clarity and fearlessness. As it is, she manages the household with precision and efficiency. And Chambers plays this struggle extremely well. You can feel the visceral power of Kate’s underlying resentment, the conflict of navigating complicated home life, of wanting more but accepting reality, even if it hurts.
As husband Jack, Nick Roberts demonstrates the weight of working two jobs for the extended family. Roberts treats Jack with care, showing duality of love and anger with his sons, and life in general, while acknowledging his responsibility for his sister-in-law and nieces. He delivers one of the best lines to Stanley (Samuel Owen): “Advice is for free. If it doesn’t fit, you can always return it.” It’s a solid performance. And Owen is the ultimate older brother, forced to work to contribute to the household, clearly resigned to his lot in life, while wanting to both support and throttle his chipper little brother Eugene. Owen’s generally calm demeanour and movements perfectly act as a foil to Chapman’s constant energy and physicality.
Central to the story is widow Blanche (Donna Randall) and her daughters Nora (Monique Bragge), and Laurie (Taneisha Hall). Blanche has been conditiond to avoid responsibility. First babied by her parents, then her husband, she is a passenger in her own life, deferring decisions to everyone else but herself, and Randall does a great job with her portrayal. Bragge shows Nora as a teen wanting to be independent, the opposite of her weak mother. She captures each scene with delicacy and respect for elders, yet fierceness and resentment when the decision doesn’t go her way.
Hall surprises with her skillful portrayal of Laurie in her stage debut. She inhabits the world weariness persona of a pampered youngest child who has once been diagnosed with illness and uses it to avoid chores forever after.
Pointon’s set can almost be considered as the eighth member of the cast with the weight it carries in the production. It’s clear much thought went into mirroring the environment of the time. Colours are appropriately muted with the occasional pop. The old Singer treadle sewing machine, tapestry-clad armchair, wooden buffet holding delicate china of the day, the coat rack near the front door, knitted blankets for bedspreads – simple furniture and dressings that are true to the era.
This integrity is carried through to the costumes, from Kate’s serviceable dress to the brown flatness of Jack’s and Stanley’s suits, and the flashiness of Blanche’s satin dress for a date that never happens. A particular detail was the back-seam stockings worn by Kate; a small detail but one that anchors the time period to the 1930s.
Is Neil Simon still relevant in 2026? Absolutely. His plays capture the absurdity found in ordinary life. The complexity of family relationships; mothers, daughters, sisters, brothers, fathers and sons. The arguing, tensions, deep love, deep loss, jealousy, division, reconciliation. It’s a credit to the actors and director Lyn Lee that all this chaos is balanced with care and finesse so those themes don’t overwhelm the production, but simply inform it.
Alethea Mouhtouris, Theatre Now
