Big Ideas Abound in Main Street Players’ Revolutionists

Marie Antoinette stuns new acquaintances in Main Street Players’ The Revolutionists (Photos by Sefanja Richard Galon)

By Mariah Reed

When assassin Charlotte Corday declares, “We are all in a play that someone else is writing,” we know we’re stepping into a world steeped in existential tension. We brace ourselves for big ideas—and Lauren Gunderson’s The Revolutionists delivers. But it also surprises, infusing sharp wit and heartfelt humility into its bold exploration of the human condition in crisis.

Gunderson’s play running at Main Street Players through Aug. 3  unfolds in the heart of the French Revolution, just after King Louis XVI is brutally executed by the radical Jacobins and his family is thrown into captivity.

In the months that follow, the Revolution descends into its most savage chapter—the Reign of Terror. The Jacobins seize power with ruthless zeal, dispatching over 17,000 to the guillotine in mere months. France is torn apart; its people passionately divided between monarchist loyalists and fervent revolutionaries. It is within this volatile, perilous world that Gunderson sets her philosophical tragicomedy.

The action begins with Olympe de Gouges, a well-known French playwright, attempting to write something “important.”  The times demand it, but de Gouges is fixated on telling an entertaining story, rather than creating a political drama based on current circumstances.  It soon becomes clear that fear motivates her intention, as many who are outwardly opposing the actions of the Jacobins are, quite literally, losing their heads.

Enter the story’s only fictional character: Marianne Angelle, a free Black woman who uses espionage to help liberate the people of Haiti, then under French colonial rule.  While de Gouge bemoans her writer’s block as a tragedy, Marianne is quick to point out that the real tragedy is the enslavement of her people.  She repeatedly urges de Gouge to write about the truth, free of dramatic license that will romanticize the cruelty and inhumanity of the times.

But de Gouges is resistant to her suggestions, preferring to focus on the fact that the new government’s constitution does not recognize women as equal citizens and insisting that this should be the focus of her new creation.

Cue the entrance of Charlotte Corday, an assassin determined to deliver justice by murdering Jean Paul Marat, a journalist, who was one of the most radical leaders of the Revolution.  Corday insists that the journalist is responsible for the murder of hundreds of her fellow citizens and she is ready and willing to risk death to eliminate him.

Corday pleads with de Gouges to craft a powerful final line—something bold to declare as she drives her dagger into Marat’s heart. A memorable phrase, she insists, will guarantee her place in history. But de Gouges has other plans. Rather than deliver a deathbed slogan, she seizes the moment to rewrite her play, weaving Corday into the script and heightening the drama to captivate her audience.

A disgusted Marianne points out that de Gouges’ play will be insignificant because she is writing to entertain “rich people” rather than to inspire real reform.  Throughout the play de Gouges is reminded of the power of the pen, and each of the other characters implore her to use her talents to affect real change in France.  De Gouges admits that there are voices that need to be heard but claims she is afraid of the ramifications of publishing audacious material that openly criticizes those in power.

None other than Queen Marie Antoinette arrives on the scene, vapidly pouting and sighing heavily about her circumstances as if she had no part in their unfolding.  Although she acknowledges that her actions certainly inflamed the populace to a large degree, she insists that she is a victim and that her politically motivated marriage to Louis XVI took place because her older sisters were ill and unavailable.

Initially, Louis XVI’s widow is portrayed as an innocent; a woman with no control over her destiny and with little ability to influence anything.  Since the King’s beheading, however, she has had second thoughts.  The Queen now insists that she loves her country and her people and that she is willing and able to assist the revolution.  In return, she requests that de Gouges write about her positively so that her legacy will be a favorable one.  Marie, it appears, is experiencing some regret and she begrudgingly admits that she may have played a part in her own demise.

The theme of female oppression runs throughout the play, with the women bemoaning work/life balance as they fight for representation and empowerment of their fellows.  When de Gouges finally summons the courage to write her declaration of women’s rights and present it to the national assembly, she finds herself booed by “hundreds of men.”  Égalité, she realizes, is not inclusive of female civil liberties.  It is at this point that our heroines wonder whether the revolution is being fought for women at all.  Ironically, over three-hundred years later, women continue to fight for representation.

A frustrated de Gouges returns home and decides to burn the political play she was crafting.  With her higher public profile, she is concerned that this work will send her to the guillotine.  But Queen Marie presses her to complete the drama, with some changes.  To be meaningful, she declares, the writing must accurately reflect the travesty taking place.  “Plays don’t matter if they hide the reality,” Marie insists.  To destroy the play, she asserts, is to erase the very people who died for its message.

Here we encounter another theme of the play.  Writers fail, the play posits, because they don’t address real problems.  Marianne urges de Gouges to be brave by stating, “You cannot write the world if you are not in it.”  In other words, you cannot be a hero if you don’t show up.

Although the subject matter of this play is serious enough, Gunderson’s dialogue is witty and engaging with just enough humor to make the obvious challenge to act more palatable. At one moment the audience is in stitches when a self-absorbed playwright experiences depression because reality messed with her narrative.  But soon after another character enthuses, “Let us call out the hypocrites of our age until they become the joke,” and the audience hushes in contemplation.

Director Danny Nieves’s correctly interprets The Revolutionists as a tragicomic call to action, urging us to confront the cost of our silence. “Who are we without a story?” de Gouges asks in her final hours. Her answer is clear: a meaningful life begins with purpose—and purpose demands sacrifice.

Nieves also does an admirable job of staging this production, which takes place in several locations, on a miniscule stage.  Jacob Brown’s set design is serviceable, if inconsistent.  Some scenes appear in somewhat realistic environments, while others take place in more representational settings.  This is certainly due to limited resources, but one wonders if the story might unfold as successfully in a fully abstract environment rife with symbolism and imagery.

Angelina Esposito’s costumes are lovely, and perfectly capture the times, the means, and the personality of each character.   The lighting design, by Ricky J. Martinez, creates just the right atmosphere for each moment unfolding.  Especially powerful are the asides directed at the audience by our cadre of feminists between scenes.  Carolina Ruiz’s sound design thrusts us into the heart of the chaos, surrounding the audience with the noise of protests and violence. Preshow and intermission music deepen the play’s themes, blending songs from across eras that question the purpose of war and revolution.

Although production values are mixed, the talent of the cast is impressive.  Zoë Darragh Garnett, as de Gouges, is the picture of frustrated artist, struggling to justify her purpose as a creator.

Cheryl Ross’s depiction of Marianne is a delight, showcasing deft comedic timing with affecting emotional outbursts as she desperately attempts to convince others to come to the aid of her people.

Elizabeth Chavez as Marie Antoinette is an endearing combination of childlike innocent and privileged princess, exhibiting moments of insight and intellectual honesty which then vanish like a flash as she raises her protective shield of charm and whimsy.

But it is Dayana Morales as Charlotte Corday who truly shatters the heart, embodying a fierce, luminous courage as she gives everything to steer a broken nation toward justice.  When she realizes her sacrifice has not resulted in optimal results, her disappointment is devastating, and it is her destiny that disappoints the most.

This endearing, earnest, and impassioned production is a thought-provoking study of the power of the people to affect change.  It is an extremely entertaining work that will stay with audiences long after they leave the premises.  If you are looking for theatre that will engage and entertain you, something that is timely and inspiring, do not miss The Main Street Players’ presentation of Lauren Gunderson’s The Revolutionists.

The Revolutionists from Main Street Players performs through August 3 at Main Street Playhouse, 6812 Main Street, Miami Lakes. Performances Fridays & Saturdays 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m. Tickets: $30 General Admission | $25 Student/Senior/Military. Available at: www.mainstreetplayers.com/tickets

 Mariah Reed is an Equity actress, produced playwright and tenured theatre professor.