Arts & Entertainment
‘This’ time
Group of friends tackle existential angst in Round House character study

From left, Lise Bruneau as Jane, Felicia Curry as Marrell, Will Gartshore as Jean-Pierre and Michael Glenn as Alan in Round House Theatre’s ‘This.’ (Photo by Danisha Crosby; courtesy Round House)
‘This’
Through Nov. 3
Round House Theatre
4545 East-West Highway
$10-$45
240-6kt-1111
With “This,” playwright Melissa James Gibson briefly tracks the not altogether graceful slide into middle age of a small group of longtime friends. And while the issues confronting them — mortality, family and the seven year itch — are heavily tread topics, the author’s word play, obsessive parsing and quirky point of view make these subjects feel altogether fresh. Her characters can be ultra-glib, sometimes annoyingly so, but they’re also layered and relatable.
The Obie Award-winning dramedy is currently playing at Bethesda’s Round House Theatre in a terrifically acted production deftly staged by the company’s producing artistic director Ryan Rilette.
It begins in the New York apartment of unhappily married Tom (Todd Scofield) and Marrell (Felicia Curry). Their newborn doesn’t sleep much and their nerves are jangly. On hand for a small gathering are Marrell’s close college friends Jane (Lisa Bruneau), a poet whose husband died exactly a year ago, and Alan (Michael Glenn), a self-deprecating gay mnemonicist (remembers every conversation he’s ever heard verbatim) who’s rarely without a drink or comment. And joining the foursome for the first time is Frenchman Jean-Pierre (out actor Will Gartshore), a handsome physician with Doctors Without Borders. He’s there as a possible love match for Jane, but it’s Marrell who seems to be falling for his Gallic charms.
The hosts bicker about baby, words and the Brita water filter, but they’re hell bent on having a good time, especially Marrell. Determined to pull Jane out of mourning, she forces her reluctant pal to play a party game. It falls flat. The evening is a dud.
Soon after, Marrell’s woodworker husband Tom pays a visit to Jane. He has feelings. Things happen that really shouldn’t, and most of the remainder of the play is about Jane resolving her guilt. The rather vague demonstrative pronoun title refers to both Jane and Tom’s regrettable deed and other more existential and typically unmentioned problems.
James Kronzer’s ingenious revolving set is a dizzying puzzle of gray blocks that moves to create living rooms, a TV studio (where Tom broadcasts his memory trick to the masses), and a nightclub. As jazz singer/songwriter Marrell, Curry gets to show off a gorgeous, sultry voice with two torchy songs composed by Peter Eldridge.
The cast is top notch. Bruneau’s Jane is a wonderfully multifaceted portrayal of a real woman who’s been dealt a relatively rough hand. Held up as the sainted widow by her friends, she proves her humanness at every turn — both unintentionally and on purpose. And Gartshore is a delight as the worldly Frenchman who serves as a voice of reason among the comparably self-involved Americans. Jean-Pierre’s good looks and selfless vocation are an inspiration, prompting Alan to rethink his life — maybe he should aspire to do more than regurgitate chitchat?
And fortunately for the production, Glenn is playing Alan the familiarly drawn gay boozy sidekick whose cutting rejoinders couldn’t be more predictable. Glenn brings funny to a lot of spots where there isn’t much.
At about 90 minutes without intermission, “This” moves at a quick pace. The end is touching though unexpected. Speaking with heartfelt sincerity to her young unseen daughter, Jane emerges as a protagonist in what has seemed more an ensemble work. It leaves you wondering what happened to the other folks. But perhaps that’s best. Like life, Gibson’s play leaves room for some more of this and a lot more of that.
Out & About
Blade Foundation to host fundraiser in Rehoboth on Sept. 12
Mayor-elect Stewart, state Rep. Snyder-Hall to give remarks
The Washington Blade Foundation will host a fundraiser on Saturday, Sept. 12 in Rehoboth Beach featuring remarks from Rehoboth’s Mayor-elect Susan Stewart and Delaware state Rep. Claire Snyder-Hall.
The Foundation funds fellowships for aspiring queer journalists and enterprise journalism projects.
The event will be held at a private home in Rehoboth. Tickets are $100 and include open bar from Diego’s, catered appetizers from the Blue Moon, entertainment, guest speakers, and an auction. Tickets are available here.
Books
New book examines fashionista Audrey Smaltz’s fabulous life
‘Every Inch a Lady’ reveals finding true love with another woman
‘Every Inch a Lady’
By Audrey Smaltz with Alina Mitchell
c.2026, Amistad
$27.99/256 pages
Snaps, zippers, buttons, ties.
Toss that garment on, pull it up, wrap it around, you know what you like and how to wear it. The color is perfect for your skin tone, the fabric enhances your form. Yep, you always look your best and, as in the new book “Every Inch a Lady” by Audrey Smaltz (with Alina Mitchell), that best is fabulous.

”Born, bred, toasted, buttered, jellied, and honeyed in Harlem” in 1937, Audrey Smaltz was a force to be reckoned with almost from the time she could walk. Her parents imbued confidence in her, they nurtured her creativity and sent her to charm school, but they never allowed her to create a stir.
“That,” says Smaltz, “is not what ladies did.”
By the time she was a teenager, Smaltz was modeling for New York City designers. Shortly thereafter, she started working for a married man with whom she had an affair, and whom she loved very much. She broke up with him, attended college, worked a series of jobs that taught her about fashion and jobs that didn’t seem to fit her. An ill-fated marriage took her to Chicago where she ultimately landed a position that sent her to work in Ebony magazine’s New York office.
Working at Ebony was a career-changer, in a way. Smaltz was able to travel the world and learn more about fashion, but she didn’t exactly get along with her boss.
Finally, seizing an opportunity, Smaltz decided to launch her own company, Audrey Smaltz, Inc., a “fashion production business,” but she couldn’t get any designers to take a chance on her. Undaunted, she reorganized, re-branded, hit the streets, and knocked on doors until she finally found one client, which led to many others.
Through it all, her personal life was a whirlwind. She dated “more men than you can shake a book at,” settling down occasionally, briefly. Fashion had always been her first love, but she accidentally found real love, “the love of a woman,” at a leadership course.
There’s an old saying that writers need to add lots of “color” into their stories. Read a little of “Every Inch a Lady,” and you’ll notice immediately that author Audrey Smaltz (with Alina Mitchell) quite literally takes that to heart by mentioning nearly every color of the spectrum here. Hmm.
That oddity aside, Smaltz is a wonderfully lively storyteller, speaking with the energy of a woman much younger to the heart of anyone who loves fashion. That glee extends to collectors of vintage clothing, who will be delighted to read about the industry long ago and the way things worked then. Smaltz says she experienced racism, which is not unusual for pre-Civil Rights America, but doors were surprisingly closed for other reasons that will astound anyone who’s savvy about the fashion industry, even today.
There’s quite a bit of name-dropping in this book but most of it belongs in the anecdotes, so you likely won’t mind. If you’re a fashionista, too, find “Every Inch a Lady,” and snap it up.
The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.
Theater
Actress takes on bisexual ‘Ma’ Rainey in new Round House production
Haskins relishes playing ‘impassioned Black woman who sticks to her guns’
‘Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom’
Sept. 9-Oct. 11
Round House Theatre
4545 East-West Highway
Bethesda, MD 20814
$50 and up
Roundhousetheatre.org
Among the Black blues women of the 1920s and 1930s, being “in the life” wasn’t uncommon. Self-supporting and often on the road, they followed the Great Northern Migration to places like Chicago and Harlem, where they lived independent lives, made music, enjoyed same-sex relationships, and partied with like-minded ladies.
Gertrude “Ma” Rainey, best known as the “mother of the blues,” fit the bill. A big star, Ma toured the country and sold hit records nationwide. She lived an openly bisexual life.
In 1925, hosting an “indecent” all-female party at a Chicago apartment, landed Ma in jail, but blues singer Bessie Smith, Ma’s protégée and erstwhile girlfriend, promptly bailed her out. Three years later, Ma released a popular track whose lyrics included “Went out last night with a crowd of my friends / They must’ve been women, ’cause I don’t like no men.”
She was also a woman who knew her value. Ma’s voice was a powerful passport.
Ma Rainey is the ultimate force of strength and resistance in August Wilson’s 1982 play, “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” the first of the late playwright’s brilliant Century Cyle, a collection of mostly Pittsburgh-set plays that chronicle the 20th century African-American experience.
Poised to kick off a month-long run at Round House (Sept. 9-Oct. 11), the production (co-produced with Olney Theatre Center) is directed by Lili-Anne Brown and features out actor and powerhouse vocalist Nicole Michelle Haskins making her Round House debut as Ma Rainey.
Set in a Chicago recording studio in 1927, the drama follows Ma, her Black band members and white producers as they try to record a new album of her sons. Tensions over artistic control, racial exploitation, and personal ambitions come to the fore. Amid the difficulties and a fair bit of humor, arises a serious clash involving hotheaded young trumpet player Levee (Yao Dogbe) who wants to alter musical arrangements on the titular song.
Playing blues icon Ma Rainey wasn’t on Haskins’s radar. Because the bulk of her work is in musical theater, Haskins never foresaw being tapped to do a Wilson play.
“It’s kind of like Shakespeare. Not restrictive but respected; not everyone gets a ticket to the party. So, I figured that I just wouldn’t pursue that,” she says matter-of-factly.
However, fate would dictate differently. Haskins and director Brown are longtime friends and collaborators. They recently worked together on “The Color Purple” at Chicago’s prestigious Goodman Theatre where Haskins played Sofia, another powerful Black woman who, not unlike Ma, is navigating life in a patriarchal white world.
When the opportunity came up to play Ma at Round House, Brown encouraged Haskins to audition. She did and got the part. “I’m so grateful to be working with a wonderful director like Lili-Anne, especially during my introduction to Wilson’s work. He is a theater god, and I’m swept every day.”
And is it special to be queer and playing queer? “For me, it’s special to play any role where there is an impassioned Black woman who sticks to her guns and fights for the things she deserves. Her sexuality is the icing on the cake.”
The production adheres to Wilson’s text and the text describes a woman who is in a relationship with another woman. Though her sexuality is provocative, it’s not the only thing about her that’s compelling. She’s also portrayed as an artist, businesswoman, and a loving aunt.
Haskins, a New York-based actor who made her name on the Chicago theater scene, grew up in Detroit. At 12, she became involved with the Mosaic Youth Theatre of Detroit; after high school she went on to earn a BFA at Detroit’s Wayne State University. Detroit is also where Haskins learned storytelling: “It’s very natural for a Detroit native to greet people on the street. There’s an expectation to be open to someone else’s story and to share your own. I’ve done this many times.”
Queer characters are famously underrepresented in Wilson’s work. “I see that, but do we really know for sure? After the first day’s read through of the play, some of the actors, for different reasons, wondered if in addition to Ma, perhaps one or two of the other characters might be queer too. Now wouldn’t that be interesting? That’s something I’d like to see.”
