What inspired you to write “Madwomen of the West,” and how did you develop its central theme of exploring womanhood in the 21st century?

As a female born in 1962, I’ve always felt like the proverbial “fish out of water”  (American saying!)—someone who never quite fit the times (or place!). In the  1970s, an awkward middle schooler (puberty—around age 12), an Asian-American kid living in blond blue-eyed Malibu, California amongst the children of movie stars  (our family was the “poor” in Malibu—my Shanghainese scientist father worked for a  nearby research lab), I felt fat, awkward, and unstylish. The musical movie “Grease,”  with its bad boys in motorcycle jacket and slicked back hair vs. the cute girls with  high-up ponytails, clear skin, and perfect Barbie bodies, seemed to be telling us  what “males” and “females” should be like. . . I was a funky art girl in paint  splattered overalls or combat pants never understanding what social rules were.  But note: in the 1970’s, I was not a “cool” kid at all—there were no tattoos, turquoise  hair, or hip piercings. . . I really just had very bad clothing. 

In the 1980’s, in college, “sexual liberation” came along—meaning that instead of  girls being invited on dates by boys, who would pick you up in their shiny cars,  proffer you flowers, and take you out for dinner, girls were supposed to pay their own  way at gross macrobiotic (natural wheat grass) restaurants with boys in sandals and  then the girls were supposed to have sex immediately on the first date (otherwise  you were frigid—“Sexual liberation!”) AND you were supposed to carry your own  birth control! Which really is a lot of pressure—since in fact you are the only one  who can get pregnant. . . Which is not “liberating” at all—it’s a little scary. 

In the 1990’s into the early 2000’s, now we “working girls” were becoming mothers— when there was already now a backlash against modern mothers as being career obsessed ice queens in big-shouldered suits leaving their crying children alone all  day. (NOTE: No such pressure on the fathers.) So we over-reacted and pumped our  own breast milk like cows and carried our babies in slings to work—trying to carry  our babies as many—possibly more—hours in a sling than did tribal women of  hundreds of years ago in agrarian countries. 

Then in the 2010’s and 2020’s, as an aging mother, your now teen and twenty  something children inform you you are always using the wrong pronouns (which DO  seem to change relatively quickly) and that you are using too many paper towels  (destroying the forests) and too many plastic straws in your Coke Zero (which you  drink because you are of course too fat now due to all the stress). . . Thus single handedly murdering all of the sea turtles. 

Which is to say, in my lifetime, being a “woman” has been complicated — it seems we are always doing the wrong thing, in every decade. . . I thought it was a complicated, beautiful, funny thing to write about. I wanted to reflect the very real conversations my women friends and I have had over the years, and I think theatre is  a fantastic place to do that (because the audience becomes part of the “chat  party”). 

The play is set in Jules’ stunning Brentwood mansion. How does this setting contribute to the narrative and the dynamics between the characters?

“Brentwood” in Los Angeles is like. . . “Highgate” in London (“Notting Hill”)? It is a place of cream-colored furniture against cream-colored walls and lots of glass and never a visible servant person (and yet all the housework is magically  accomplished), full of elegant philanthropical gestures, very good champagne, a delicate soft French cheeses. I love this world as a setting for three reasons. I regard this world as a spa vacation—when I go to the theater at the end of the day,  why not? (My own world is full of public transportation and irritating city sounds and  various other annoyances.) I also find it fascinating that, for instance, in American,  60% of the people who buy theatre tickets are women 50 and older (often with  money, highly educated), and yet they are rarely represented on stage. It’s like there  is a certain embarrassment — or even censure of, shame — of these women. And yet  I do know (from having been to many theater development summer workshops  myself, as a “person of color”), these women — often white and moneyed — support  a lot of culture, and are in a sense what we used to call “the chattering class” — they talk about ideas. And yet also, they are not everyone — in this case, three more  wealthy women have a photographer friend Claudia who seems to have an  artistically fulfilling life (the glamorous museum show!) and yet who is living at the  poverty level and has government-paid for health care, a concept they can barely  even understand. Claudia’s life is one I know very well. As a 62 year-old artist, I’ve  found many of my peers (and myself) think about money a lot, what it can do, how to  get it, how it would solve our lives. . . And this, in fact, is a question of the play. (I won’t give away where they end up on it!) 

The character Zoey crashes the party fresh from her TED Talks. What role does Zoey play in escalating the tensions during the brunch, and what does her character represent?

The wonderful character of Zoey, who is in fact inspired by the real life American  celebrity Marilu Henner is, as Marilu would call her, “the swizzle stick” of the play  (aka: the agent of change that mixes the cocktail!). I am such a fan of Marilu Henner,  I’m going to say a few things out of school about her. Do you remember when I  referenced the movie “Grease” in question one? The HOT GUY in the movie  “Grease,” the actor who inspired all of our awkward teen girl motorcycle guy in a  black leather jacket fantasies, was JOHN TRAVOLTA. In her salad days, Marilu Henner literally DATED John Travolta—Google her, and you will see MARILU HENNER  and JOHN TRAVOLTA giddily falling out of a taxi after going to a fabulous soirée at  Studio 54 (in New York! The 1970’s! Look it up!). So Marilu Henner always seems to  have lived a total archetype!

In my book MADWOMAN AND THE ROOMBA, which was the initial inspiration for  this play (sections of it), I was briefly obsessed with Arianna Huffington, this  impossible creature who pioneers companies and makes money and flies around  the world and gives TED talks telling us intimately, in breathy tones, that she has  discovered this amazing new thing she wants to share with us. . . SLEEP.  Even though many of us SLEEP like champions—it’s giving the TED talks that’s the  problem! And yet (having met Arianna Huffington, who is unfailingly charming and  gracious—how does she do it?), I still kind of adore and admire her. This sort of TED talk star is the sort of woman who speaks and innovates and travels but still looks  amazing on no sleep and is nice and still brings you the perfect gift for your own  birthday (which you yourself have forgot!). I want to mention that Marilu Henner (WHO DATED JOHN TRAVOLTA!) is the nicest person in the world who gave up dairy in 1974 and will thoughtfully bring you a Starbucks. And (delicious) vegan donuts.  Surreal. 

So my thought with the drama of the play was, what if you have three girlfriends who  have made it to a certain age in life, with all of its joys and regrets, particularly  regrets, and now their brunch is crash by an old girlfriend they haven’t seen in 20  years who has become mega uber-famous (and absurdly rich, like Oprah)! Also, she  looks perfect—she seems to be getting ever younger, more slender, with ever  bouncier hair, and glowing skin. . . And yet is unfailingly nice. WTF??? (That’s  American for What the F—k!) 

So Zoey brings conflict — one girlfriend (who is a mega-fan) invited her, and is thrilled  that their celebrity friend has made time to come, another girlfriend is wounded that  after being so close in college their now-celebrity friend has dropped them like a hot  potato, and cannot get over the wound of it. Zoey also has all the money in the world, and that is WEIRD and UNCOMFORTABLE. So Zoey, the “swizzle stick,”  problematizes the whole play. . . ! (And ends up being surprised herself!) 

It has been wisely said, the plot of all plays is: “A stranger comes to town.” It seems  to be Zoey, at least at first. But in MADWOMEN OF THE WEST, as the play unfolds,  with all of its surprising twists, the question becomes, “Yes, a stranger comes to  town—but who is the stranger, and who is the town?” (Pregnant, mysterious pause.) 

“Madwomen of the West” is described as a comedy. How do you balance humor with the more serious exploration of gender and identity issues in the play?

What we’ve come to love about the play—and what I’ve worked on and been  thinking about for many years before the play—is that here are four characters with four distinct viewpoints on gender and identity. (Think are classic trios and  particularly quartets of women-friend stories, in America, for instance, The Golden  Girls, Sex and the City.) (Also Designing Women.) I am also a super-fan of  Absolutely Fabulous, where our two characters (and others) say the most  outrageous, politically wrong things. . . But you do get where they are coming from,  what their ridiculous foibles are, that can be both satiric-seeming, but also come  from a deeply human place. Many of us do not get up every morning, walk the dog,  do a juice cleanse, donate money to saving the planet, bike on the Pelaton, and then  congratulate our co-workers on their teamwork. I think comedy comes from the  hilarious grit of humanity, however not pretty (frail, fragile, with an enormous effort  to cover the gaps up). . . So that each different viewpoint comes from a human  place—however perhaps flawed. (But then who is the judge?)  

How do the interactions and conflicts between Marilyn, Claudia, and Zoey reflect broader societal conversations about gender roles and expectations?

I love this question, and think that so many of the big questions for women, as I’ve  experienced, over my 62 year old life are explored (and by “explored,” I mean not an  Alistair Cook lecture—our four girlfriends fight while waving champagne glasses!).  The issues are: work vs. family, women and money, women and their bodies (fake  boobs vs. top surgery) (also, being fat vs. being thin!), being a mother or not, being  married (or at least partnered) vs. being single, feminism—did it accomplish  anything?—and sex, as women, can we just enjoy it? (Politics always change—in  the US, we had Hillary Clinton. . . Now we have Kamala Harris!!!). All of these  threads are awakened via the idea of a trans child (aka: a child who was AFAB— Assigned Female At Birth), a onetime “daughter” who does not particularly WANT to  be labeled as female. As a loving mother of a trans person myself, I feel that while  some of my generation are censorious and fearful of the modern moment we’re in,  there’s true freedom in re-thinking all of our old-fashioned and often restrictive ideas  about gender (GREASE!!!). I am of course biased in thinking women (however you  spell them, womyn, wimmen, wimyn) are always at the vanguard—whether you  think your mom or grandma is unhip or not. . . I find women have extraordinary  power and love and resilience. I am excited about our play and the fantastic  conversation our amazing screen legends have fostered in two major cities (Los  Angeles and New York). We’ve always wanted to come to London—the play is replete with London references before we even thought it was a possibility—we  can’t wait to bring it to Riverside Studios!