One-Woman Show Rocks a Man's World

It’s one thing to be a C.E.O, and quite another to work for one. Both written and performed by Angela Madden, C.E.O and Cinderella attempts to illustrate this dramatic discrepancy. In the autobiographical, one-woman show, Madden relays her experiences of working for some of the most powerful men in the corporate world, and she chronicles the bizarre situations and dynamics that come with the job.

At first, the prospect of having to listen to Madden recount all the mundane details of her life seems dreadful. But as Madden delves deeper into her past, she begins to reveal snippets of her painful and abusive childhood, making her story emotionally compelling. Even more gripping is when she presents a story from the corporate world and a story from her childhood in parallel, exposing how her issues with boundaries are rooted in the trauma she’s experienced. By the end, the play is no longer just a subjective personal history, but a story of self-discovery and redemption.

Still, one cannot help but think that the whole premise of the production—a one-woman show, written by, starring, and concerning the same person—is fairly self-absorbed. It seemed like the audience was meant to fill the role of psychiatrist, or a close friend hearing about another friend’s painful past over dinner. Being a particularly intimate venue, the Connolly Theater added to this feeling of disclosure.

If director Barbara Bosch had chosen to embrace this overarching feeling, then perhaps it would have been easier to accept the show for what it is: a brave confession. Instead, it seems as though Bosch is forcing the incorporation of certain technical and stylized elements in an attempt to make the performance feel more like a theatrical production. Madden’s outbursts of song between anecdotes, the use of an office chair as both prop and mode of transportation, and the randomly placed recorded sound effects all feel ridiculously contrived.

This is not to say that the show as a whole feels wearisome. Madden has a wonderful talent for storytelling, and she has some great anecdotes to share. Her ability to capture the voices, gestures, and rhythms of the various characters in her life is astounding. Despite the fact that she is re-enacting all of the dialogues with herself, they are dynamic and humorous. One cannot help laughing out loud at the absurdity of some of the images she paints, like when she is describing the task of moving one boss’s taxidermy from one apartment to another.

For those who are craving an enjoyable and undemanding theater experience, or need to be reminded of the strength of the human spirit, a trip to the Connelly Theater may be a worthwhile endeavor. This play, however, is not for those who are looking to see an artistically and aesthetically ambitious piece of theater. The production raises interesting questions about the balancing act between making art for one’s own personal journey and making art to inspire others.