The Sabbath Girl, 30 July 2024

I had the immense privilege of seeing The Sabbath Girl with my partner. Although we are both Jewish, we both felt the profound connection to the story of letting someone into your life and sharing the spirit of an identity, but not identical interests. In the play, both protagonists were curious artists grappling with self-imposed restrictions, but they weren’t from the same artistic worlds. Seth (Max Wolkowitz) was a writer wanting to update his family’s knish store, a building full of history. Angie (Marilyn Caserta) was an art historian wanting to fill an empty gallery with a personal discovery of a new, edgy artist. Both love interests were simultaneously deeply stepped in tradition and deeply desiring more from the world.

The Sabbath Girl had incredible heart, and connected me with my own journey through traditions. My partner and I shared many laughs that were personal, because we saw similarities in our own love story. The ability to create moments that allow the audience to relate on a personal level without losing the universal level is a rare gift in dramatic structure, to which I say, “kol hakavod.”

While the specific details and philosophical insights each scene provided were engaging and beautiful, I found the way this production was crafted (lovingly) predictable. I couldn’t help but wonder if the same scenes framed in a slightly different way might be more impactful. Specifically, I wondered what the same scenes would look like with interspersed narration from Rachel (Lauren Singerman). At the end of the story, she was the one who had undergone the most significant ideological shift, as both Seth and Angie started out unsatisfied. Rachel‘s character had the complex ability to be both comic relief and heartachingly profound. She would be the perfect framework for the story, and all it would take would be an opening moment and one or two personal moments of her journey. The story of an orthodox woman coming to accept the higher power in the sincere love of her brother’s pursuit of an interfaith marriage would add an extra layer of complexity to the simple love story that would go a long way toward connecting these wonderfully written scenes to each other in an intricate, powerful way.

Personal ideas for restructuring aside, this production had incredible chochma, and also managed to make me verklempt. It covered a full spectrum of human emotion through connection, disconnection, and the battle between your heart and your head. It embraced differences, and validated the idea of partners complementing each other rather than matching on every detail. Generally, people settle down with someone who is culturally similar but has different personality traits. This felt like an instance where the characters shared the personality traits but were culturally different. I enjoyed The Sabbath Girl’s assertion that both can lead to love and happiness.

Sadly, I felt Max Wolkowitz (Seth)’s voice was very shvach. But I enjoyed the juxtaposition of his philosophical constraints and Angie’s emotional freedom, which was its own kind of constraint. The show reminded me of everyone’s basic humanity by showing us the similarities between seemingly opposing view points. The journey reinforced the very important point of how it is simultaneity hard and easy to put yourself in another world that you never imagined could be yours.

The lighting design (Jamie Roderick)  really didn’t suit the production, the other design elements were practical and fitting. I went in and out of liking Blake (Rory Max Kaplan)’s performance, though I enjoyed the comic relief that his character provided. I absolutely loved Nonna Sophia (Diana DiMarzio), and the overlapping medley that all of the actors sang together. I hope the show has a bright future that someday includes full orchestrations.

Ultimately, I want to acknowledge the difficulty of telling Jewish stories like this in today’s political climate, and thank the playwright, cast, and creative team, for keeping the show accessible without sacrificing culture. The jokes landed, I felt the songs, and I left the theater with a lot to ponder, very grateful that, like Angie, I get to fill my life with meaningful art.

I attended this production on a press pass from Berlin Rosen.