While Our American Queen is rich in historical detail, that meticulous attention often overwhelms the story, leaving the central characters underdeveloped and the drama struggling to emotionally connect.
America at war. Cracks showing within the Presidential cabinet. Families divided. A familiar scene is set before us, as we enter the world of 1864 Civil War America. Lincoln is at the helm and his Secretary of the Treasury, Salmon P. Chase is gunning for his seat with his daughter Kate acting the driving force behind the scenes. The ‘most celebrated yet overlooked women of 19th-century America,’ as Our American Queen champions her.
Portraying a historical figure convincingly is a daunting task, one that demands both historical context and compelling storytelling. Finding the balance between the two is key, but unfortunately Thomas Klingenstein, making his playwriting debut, struggles with the formula. We often find ourselves in various two-handers with each character spouting their opinions on the current state of the war, Lincoln’s policies, and the politics of the day. There is no doubt Klingenstein did his research, but the piece too often loses its momentum in its textbook-like approach.
The first half of the piece is occupied with party preparations, which Kate has treated as a matter of utmost personal importance. It is revealed that this party is where her father will reveal his intentions to run against Lincoln. Wallis Currie-Wood as Kate Chase graces the stage with a restrained and steely demeanor, as she carefully sets the table and entertains several visitors. As the play progresses, however, this attitude settles into a wooden and two-dimensional performance. It’s difficult to believe the woman before us is the one others claim can get politicians to bend to her every whim.
The charming and responsive Tom Victor portrays secretary to President Lincoln, Mr. Hay. Kate’s otherwise rigid demeanor softens in his presence, making theirs the most compelling pairing among the rotating cast of guests in the Chase dining room. Darrell Brockis as Secretary Chase holds the stage with ease and is one of the most compelling characters to follow throughout, portraying the complicated politician whose concern for his daughter feels sincere. Christy Meyer as the Secretary’s “close friend” Carlotta Eastman and Hadyn Hoskins as General McClellan provide moments of humor and sincerity, but the general’s scenes detract from the play’s forward momentum.
While the set is striking (designed by Neal Wilkinson) with the long mahogany dining table surrounded by 12 matching chairs, it seems to limit the playable action throughout, with actors often getting caught on either side of the table and resorting to delivering lines meant for their scene partner straight to the fourth wall. The distanced action grows tired once you realize it’s an architectural dilemma, a problem compounded by Christopher McElroen’s direction, which does little to help the actors forge compelling relationships. The addition of the giant framed screen at the head of the table transforms into a window to the war during scene transitions, displaying recruitment posters and images of dead soldiers. While impressive in scale, its use to project Salmon Chase’s face as he delivers his dinner party speech to the ghosts of the infamous dinner party upstage, and later to broadcast Kate’s face as she throws a fit over her father’s unfair treatment of her in her youth, ultimately detracts from both the actors’ performances and the play’s dramatic flow.
As an American audience member, I found myself confronted with new historical characters and events from the Civil War, so I can only imagine the catch-up a British audience may be feeling when trying to contextualize the piece. Coupled with following this young woman’s rise and fall, the play seems to be confused within itself as to its aims as it transforms into an internal battle for Kate as to whether she marries for love or prestige. An issue that only comes to light in the second half of the play.
Our American Queen brings us into a world of ambition, loyalty, and quiet power, illuminating the lives of those often overlooked by history. While the play falters at times in its momentum and struggles to balance spectacle with intimacy, it still offers moments of striking humanity, wit, and emotional resonance. Though imperfect, Klingenstein’s debut leaves the audience with a vivid portrait of a young woman navigating power, family, and legacy in the shadow of the Civil War.