Review by Ron Fassler . . .
It is with only a fleeting awareness of her media persona that I attended The Least Problematic Woman in the World, Dylan Mulvaney’s solo autobiographical play that opened tonight at the Lucille Lortel Theatre in the West Village. I could have done some background reading but decided instead to go in cold and watch and learn as Mulvaney unpeeled the many layers of who she is. And outnumbered as I was by most of the audience being far better educated about all-things Dylan, strangely enough, I didn’t feel like an outsider. Perhaps that might have something to do with what a warm and welcoming personality she is. Sure, a couple of references went over my head—in-jokes and cultural hat tips that baffled me—but the overriding feeling felt inclusive. Not surprising since Mulvaney’s primary goal seems to be educating people and not alienating them about the ever-widening definitions of gender identity. What you get, however, is anything but a lecture. Featuring clever, original songs from Ingrid Michaelson (The Notebook) and Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss (Six), Mulvaney interacts with as many as 20 separate characters that she plays on video in successively elaborate wigs and makeup. Broadly engaging, this autobiographical show succeeds where others of this ilk often fail. The secret sauce? Honesty, sincerity, and an open bluntness that’s refreshing and, thankfully, hilarious.
In full disclosure, it was a bit of a hard sell at the start. Dressed as an angel and mingling with the audience pre-show, a worry creeped in that Mulvaney might be a little too twee or cloying for my taste. That feeling continued in the first ten minutes or so in an extended bit that sets up an angel being sent by God to look after the newborn Dylan, an assignment the angel is none too convinced is up their alley. But once she sheds her wings, Mulvaney proceeds to anchor the show in the reality of a situation that is very specifically hers and hers alone to tell; one that you can’t help getting caught up in, whether she’s an unreliable narrator or not. At the performance I attended, her ability to work with the audience like an established standup, particularly in the way she interacted with two male members she singled out for participation, impressed. Her strong and rangy singing voice, and a willingness to share her truest self, are saving graces. Best of all, she finds moments to take things down a notch amidst the crazy comedy and seamlessly transition to a touching straightforwardness.
It’s important to note that the life Mulvaney is depicting is only in its 29th year. She has been self-reporting online since the pandemic when she first came out as trans. This led to becoming a social media sensation with a current 9 million followers on TikTok. There have been some scary pitfalls along the way like when conservative backlash cost her potentially lucrative endorsements from Nike and Budweiser. Though much of the blind online hatred Mulvaney has been subject to online has been intense, she has persevered. Late in the show, she sums up her situation in a confessional song that features the following lyrics:
I… am… a… woman…
put into a gay man’s body
who was born a man…
but was actually supposed to be a woman even though she was a man
who is gay
but is still
a woman
who is straight
but
also
sometimes gay.
Funny, as well as true to Mulvaney’s highly individualized experience, for a bonus, we get to sing along with these lyrics using the tried and true “bouncing ball” technique, so as not to trip over the complexity of it all.
Along the road we go for a trip with Mulvaney on the binary express, offered by Transatlantic Trainlines; an imagined trip through such stops as “Hey/They” station, with connections to “Ze/Zir,” all the way to the end of the line, and the “She/They” station.
Included are conversations with God, her mother, Glee’s Chris Colfer, and an uncredited Alan Cumming—all parts of this wild journey. With full confidence in where she wants to take us, Mulvaney educates with a delicious flair for the absurd. She comfortably climbs, slithers, and dominates Tom Rogers’ set, which looks like an upscale makeup counter at Bergdorf-Goodman’s with Enver Chakartash’s costumes covering a range of ingenious outfits. The lighting by Cha See and sound design by Justin Stasiw are seamless, and director Tim Jackson keeps the plates spinning on long sticks in acrobatic fashion. Immune to exhaustion, Mulvaney never wears out her welcome.
Sweetness abounds near the end of the play in a last conversation with God. “Thank you for my size 9 foot, the size with the most inventory during the Nordstrom anniversary.” She also thanks every single woman who’ s come into her life, “who’s shown me what it is, who it is, that I want to be. Please help them understand me, especially my mom. I will do my best not to make their lives more difficult than they already are.” Problematic or not, by the finish of The Least Problematic Woman in the World, you will understand Dylan Mulvaney better by empathetically entering the world in which she lives. It’s a very entertaining way to spend 75 minutes.
The Least Problematic Woman in the World is at the Lucille Lortel Theatre, 121 Christopher Street, NYC through October 19th. For further information on tickets, please visit: https://leastproblematicwoman.com.
Photos by Andy Henderson.
