Marc made his directorial debut with MOTHER HUBBARD'S CUPBOARD, a play by Mark Jay Mirsky
at the 2007 New York International Fringe Festival. The play ran at the Soho Playhouse and
featured Jennifer Bayly, Jill Helene, Jeremy Johnson, Lynn Mancinelli and Israel Mirsky.
at the 2007 New York International Fringe Festival. The play ran at the Soho Playhouse and
featured Jennifer Bayly, Jill Helene, Jeremy Johnson, Lynn Mancinelli and Israel Mirsky.
From left: Jenny Bayly, Lynn Mancinelli,
Jill Helene (on floor)
Jill Helene (on floor)
Jeremy Johnson as Mr. Hubbard
Mother Hubbard's Cupboard
Reviewed by Jose Zayas
August 13, 2007
A lot of weird stuff happens in Mark Jay
Mirsky's Mother Hubbard's Cupboard. A
delightful blend of Ionesco, early Albee, and
dirty nursery rhymes, Mirsky's play is a
hilarious, twisted, and cleverly constructed
tale of familial turmoil. This is family
dysfunction drama, fringe style.
Mother Hubbard is woken up from a deep
slumber by the unexpected visit of the
Woman In White. Sexily clad in a nurse's
uniform—half dominatrix, half sweet natured
businesswoman—this guest is a mystery and
it is a mystery that Mother Hubbard must
unravel. Is she a tax collector, is she here for
the children, is she the angel of death?
Double-speak, weird noises in the walls,
sudden explosions of Beethoven's Fifth, and
cursing are all part of a normal day in the
Hubbard household. To give any of the
secrets away in this brief but highly
satisfactory play would be a sin. All you need
to know is that the children want out, the
father is lost, and Mother Hubbard is at the
end of her rope. Stir with manic glee and
enjoy.
Director Marc Palmieri keeps all of the
disparate elements and tonal shifts clear and
grounded. There are no false moves. The
comedy is sharp and focused and ranges
from the linguistically intricate to the
physically deranged. He even manages to
invoke great dread amidst the laughter. The
impending sense of doom is magical and
very well handled and contains one of the
most effective uses of a blackout since The
Lieutenant of Inishmore.
The company is exceptional and all of the
performers handle the hairpin turns in the
script with great skill. As the children, Israel
Mirsky and Lynn Mancinelli create indelible
portraits of stunted growth and wanton
desires. They are dangerous, petulant,
sweet, and generous all in one breath. Jill
Helene brings great warmth and exuberance
to the Woman In White and manages to
make corporate jargon very funny and
deeply sexy. Jeremy Johnson is charming as
the misunderstood and mistreated patriarch
and does wonders with very little.
But the evening belongs to Jennifer Bayly's
formidable Mother Hubbard. She is dry,
brittle, a perfect mother and a perfect
monster. Bayly embraces this deeply
contradictory and exhausted woman
completely and it is a treat to hear her
handle Mirsky's language. A woman at odds
with her environment Mother Hubbard tells
her guest "I try to be gracious." To which her
guest innocently asks "Is it hard?" Hubbard's
reply: "Very Hard." Bayly practically brings
the house down with this line. It is a
testament to her skill and to the wit of her
performance that we believe her, understand
her deep sadness, and yet find ourselves
laughing anyway.
Reviewed by Jose Zayas
August 13, 2007
A lot of weird stuff happens in Mark Jay
Mirsky's Mother Hubbard's Cupboard. A
delightful blend of Ionesco, early Albee, and
dirty nursery rhymes, Mirsky's play is a
hilarious, twisted, and cleverly constructed
tale of familial turmoil. This is family
dysfunction drama, fringe style.
Mother Hubbard is woken up from a deep
slumber by the unexpected visit of the
Woman In White. Sexily clad in a nurse's
uniform—half dominatrix, half sweet natured
businesswoman—this guest is a mystery and
it is a mystery that Mother Hubbard must
unravel. Is she a tax collector, is she here for
the children, is she the angel of death?
Double-speak, weird noises in the walls,
sudden explosions of Beethoven's Fifth, and
cursing are all part of a normal day in the
Hubbard household. To give any of the
secrets away in this brief but highly
satisfactory play would be a sin. All you need
to know is that the children want out, the
father is lost, and Mother Hubbard is at the
end of her rope. Stir with manic glee and
enjoy.
Director Marc Palmieri keeps all of the
disparate elements and tonal shifts clear and
grounded. There are no false moves. The
comedy is sharp and focused and ranges
from the linguistically intricate to the
physically deranged. He even manages to
invoke great dread amidst the laughter. The
impending sense of doom is magical and
very well handled and contains one of the
most effective uses of a blackout since The
Lieutenant of Inishmore.
The company is exceptional and all of the
performers handle the hairpin turns in the
script with great skill. As the children, Israel
Mirsky and Lynn Mancinelli create indelible
portraits of stunted growth and wanton
desires. They are dangerous, petulant,
sweet, and generous all in one breath. Jill
Helene brings great warmth and exuberance
to the Woman In White and manages to
make corporate jargon very funny and
deeply sexy. Jeremy Johnson is charming as
the misunderstood and mistreated patriarch
and does wonders with very little.
But the evening belongs to Jennifer Bayly's
formidable Mother Hubbard. She is dry,
brittle, a perfect mother and a perfect
monster. Bayly embraces this deeply
contradictory and exhausted woman
completely and it is a treat to hear her
handle Mirsky's language. A woman at odds
with her environment Mother Hubbard tells
her guest "I try to be gracious." To which her
guest innocently asks "Is it hard?" Hubbard's
reply: "Very Hard." Bayly practically brings
the house down with this line. It is a
testament to her skill and to the wit of her
performance that we believe her, understand
her deep sadness, and yet find ourselves
laughing anyway.
A Cupboard Full of Questions
by Mallory Jensen
Mother Hubbard's Cupboard (Fringe Festival)
Reviewed August 11, 2007
Something is rotten in the home of Mrs. Hubbard. At
first it seems messy children are the problem
plaguing the exasperated title character of Mark Jay
Mirsky’s absurdist, playful black comedy. Mrs.
Hubbard is a plainspoken housewife played by
Jennifer Bayly with a sly smile shifting beneath her
weariness.
Early in the production, a woman in nurse whites
(given an expertly evasive manner by Jill Helene)
shows up asking about “Filthy Child” and her
brother, and Mrs. Hubbard lists all the cleaning she’s
had to do. Then a foul cursing booms down from
upstairs, the last syllables drowned out by a
recording of the opening chord from Beethoven’s
Fifth. The filth must be metaphorical, the audience
thinks.
Ophelia and Fortinbras, the siblings in question, are
played with a wicked glee by Lynn Mancinelli and
Israel Mirsky. They do use dirty language, but when
they enter it’s clear that they are not children but
immature twentysomethings. The audience has been
misled in another way too: the real problem is
evidently Mr. Hubbard, described as a despicable
rodent who is in hiding and should be exterminated.
This is where the visitor in whites comes in: she is
actually a representative from the pest control
company the children have called. Mrs. Hubbard is
soon on board with the plot as her anger toward her
husband outweighs her irritation with her immature
children.
Unfortunately for the children, their plot does not
unfold according to plan, setting up gruesome ends
that will not surprise anyone who recognizes the
children’s names from Hamlet. And when the
audience finally meets Mr. Hubbard (Jeremy
Johnson), a kindly-looking old man toting a leather-
bound Shakesepeare folio, it feels as though it has
been steered wrong yet again. He claims he
absented himself from the family merely because he
wanted some privacy and quiet. Having met his wife
and children, it’s hard to blame him. So what’s going
on?
Mirsky’s writing is precise and vivid (one passage
when Mrs. Hubbard remembers her mouth being
washed out as a child is especially memorable), but
the story’s meaning is stubbornly elusive. The
uncertainty is even written into the script, since Mr.
Hubbard addresses the audience to ask with whom it
will side. Viewers who prefer endings to be wrapped
up neatly will be turned off by this aspect of Mother
Hubbard’s Cupboard, in spite of the strong acting
and tight staging. However, the production's many
open questions will please those who enjoy puzzles.
by Mallory Jensen
Mother Hubbard's Cupboard (Fringe Festival)
Reviewed August 11, 2007
Something is rotten in the home of Mrs. Hubbard. At
first it seems messy children are the problem
plaguing the exasperated title character of Mark Jay
Mirsky’s absurdist, playful black comedy. Mrs.
Hubbard is a plainspoken housewife played by
Jennifer Bayly with a sly smile shifting beneath her
weariness.
Early in the production, a woman in nurse whites
(given an expertly evasive manner by Jill Helene)
shows up asking about “Filthy Child” and her
brother, and Mrs. Hubbard lists all the cleaning she’s
had to do. Then a foul cursing booms down from
upstairs, the last syllables drowned out by a
recording of the opening chord from Beethoven’s
Fifth. The filth must be metaphorical, the audience
thinks.
Ophelia and Fortinbras, the siblings in question, are
played with a wicked glee by Lynn Mancinelli and
Israel Mirsky. They do use dirty language, but when
they enter it’s clear that they are not children but
immature twentysomethings. The audience has been
misled in another way too: the real problem is
evidently Mr. Hubbard, described as a despicable
rodent who is in hiding and should be exterminated.
This is where the visitor in whites comes in: she is
actually a representative from the pest control
company the children have called. Mrs. Hubbard is
soon on board with the plot as her anger toward her
husband outweighs her irritation with her immature
children.
Unfortunately for the children, their plot does not
unfold according to plan, setting up gruesome ends
that will not surprise anyone who recognizes the
children’s names from Hamlet. And when the
audience finally meets Mr. Hubbard (Jeremy
Johnson), a kindly-looking old man toting a leather-
bound Shakesepeare folio, it feels as though it has
been steered wrong yet again. He claims he
absented himself from the family merely because he
wanted some privacy and quiet. Having met his wife
and children, it’s hard to blame him. So what’s going
on?
Mirsky’s writing is precise and vivid (one passage
when Mrs. Hubbard remembers her mouth being
washed out as a child is especially memorable), but
the story’s meaning is stubbornly elusive. The
uncertainty is even written into the script, since Mr.
Hubbard addresses the audience to ask with whom it
will side. Viewers who prefer endings to be wrapped
up neatly will be turned off by this aspect of Mother
Hubbard’s Cupboard, in spite of the strong acting
and tight staging. However, the production's many
open questions will please those who enjoy puzzles.
