REVIEW: The Bee’s Knees falls short of its timely premise

iPhoto caption: Production still courtesy of The Bee's Knees.

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/By Aisling Murphy / Nov 22, 2024

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It’s the ‘20s, things are looking politically dour, and a woman might make history by being elected to public office. Sound familiar?

In her director’s note, playwright Judy Reynolds says The Bee’s Knees, now playing in its world premiere at The Theatre Centre, was not written in response to the current political climate, and that the play’s resonance with Kamala Harris’ recent loss is a “synchronicity beyond her control.” 

But it’s close to impossible not to think about U.S. politics as the play, about a woman named Dolores running for office in the 1920s, plods along. When we meet Dolores (played by a very strong Shannon Pitre) in the late 1910s, she’s a housewife in Canada whose husband recently perished while fighting in World War One. Her mother (Françoise Balthazar) is in a sanitarium, catatonic and unable to speak, and her aunt Virginia (Birgitte Solem) is persnickety and shrewish, unable to handle change or controversy.

Things change for Dolores when her sister Bernie (a funny Madeline Elliott Kennedy) suggests that she run for Parliament, and make good on the future promised to them by suffragettes like their mother. Dolores accepts, and along the way, she picks up a new fiancé — her mother’s doctor, the sweet and supportive Edwin (a lovely Kenzie Delo).

Of course, running for office as a woman isn’t easy (a point Reynolds reiterates often in The Bee’s Knees). Almost immediately, Dolores becomes the target of smear campaigns by her opponent (Michael Pollard), and more than once her burgeoning relationship with Edwin is tested by the social expectations of the 1920s.

There’s an interesting premise at the centre of The Bee’s Knees, but Reynolds’ script is somehow both overly literal and frustratingly vague as time ticks by for Dolores. The simultaneous positioning of the depths of the Great War and the flapper fashion of the mid-20s seems a touch clunky, and the text features a few anachronisms — several of the upper-crust female characters respond in the affirmative with a modern-tinged “yeah.” As well, it’s unclear whether The Bee’s Knees is meant to be a musical or a play with songs — right now it’s neither, and lengthy, jazz-inspired songs (performed commendably by Jamillah Ross, who doubles as a speakeasy hostess named Rita) make the show feel bloated and lethargic.

Those problems might have been fixed by an outside director, but as the playwright, Reynolds doesn’t appear to have stepped back far enough from her own work to take stock of what needed addressing. As well, Paul and Mathew Gyulay’s set leaves little room for actors to maneuver the space (and they’re frequently tasked with moving bulky furniture pieces, making for somewhat awkward transitions). Arianna Lilith Moodie’s costumes, however, are generally excellent.

For the most part, Reynolds’ cast is very good — Pitre shines at the centre of The Bee’s Knees, imbuing Dolores with warmth and resolve. Kennedy’s Bernie occasionally vaults into the realm of caricature, but by and large, she’s a welcome comic presence to the play. She’s especially compelling in dialogue with Delo’s Edwin, and the two have great chemistry as adversaries, two supporters in Dolores’ corner with opposing ideas on how to keep her safe.

The Bee’s Knees might evolve into a stronger project down the line, but at present, the play and production feel swept away by the spangled allure of the 1920s setting. It’s worth pointing out, too, that the marketing materials for this outing of The Bee’s Knees are riddled with AI-generated art (complete with phantom props, extra digits, and uncanny eyes), images which don’t necessarily set the project up for aesthetic success. With further refining, this play might one day be the bee’s knees — it’s just not quite there yet.

The Bee’s Knees runs at the Theatre Centre until November 24. Tickets are available here.

Intermission reviews are independent and unrelated to Intermission’s partnered content. Learn more about Intermission’s partnership model here.

WRITTEN BY

Aisling Murphy

Aisling is Intermission's former senior editor and the theatre reporter for the Globe and Mail. She likes British playwright Sarah Kane, most songs by Taylor Swift, and her cats, Fig and June. She was a 2024 fellow at the National Critics Institute in Waterford, CT.

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