Phyl – 13 October 2026
Most new works struggle to speak as clearly as Cicely Hamilton’s 1911 societal critique, Phyl. Shocking in its bold directness, this play examines the inner workings of women and how society judges their desires. In this play, it is mostly other women who do the judging and upholding of values that keep women down. Commenting on the complicity of all women and rousing questions about where perceived morality comes from, Phyl examines happiness under a microscope that also zeroes in on the peculiarities of shame.
Phyl begins with a governess, Phyl Chester (Lily Ganser) who is being cast out of the home she works in for perceived flirtation with Jack Folliott (Anthony Michael Martinez), a gentleman guest of the house. Upon discovering what has happened, Jack asks Phyl her definition of happiness and Phyl cites many material objects, as well as money. Jack states that he can take Phyl away and give her the happiness she desires. Phyl accepts, much to the chagrin of her protective sister Cathy (Jennifer Blood), who is worried about Phyl’s indiscretion and her immortal soul. At the end of the play, Jack discovers he has lost his fortune, and thinks that Phyl will be done with him now that he can no longer provide the material objects that she defined as happiness, but Phyl has discovered that her happiness actually stems from the interpersonal connection with someone who is nice to her.
The show leaves the audience buzzing with questions. In society’s eyes, this out of wedlock dalliance is a cardinal sin, yet Jack and Phyl’s relationship is based on a level of kindness and generosity that is exceedingly rare among married couples. Their deep concern for each other is remarkable. Yet when they began this adventure together, they barely knew each other. I would have felt differently about the show had the first act been the same and the second act revealed Jack to be, in his words “a brute and a scoundrel.” Instead of applauding Phyl’s blind trust, I’d find her quite foolish. As for whether it’s the money or the man that makes a woman happy, both answers are appallingly antifeminist for a woman like Cicely Hamilton who was so far ahead of her time. Most important and peculiar of all is Phyl’s suffering at the hands of other women, including the cruelty of Mrs. Ponsonby (Katie Firth) versus the kindness of men, represented by Jack Folliott.
The scene between Phyl and Cathy where Cathy tried to compel Phyl to return to normal, respectable life was one of the most emotionally charged moments of the show. In a lot of ways, Cathy is depicted as a masculine woman. She works in an office, might be a suffragette, and provides for Phyl’s needs materially. In this heartfelt moment, she sides with society, religion, and men. What does this say about the women’s liberation movement? That women must operate within society’s boundaries to achieve the respect necessary to strike out on their own? That rights are earned, and not given?
My favorite thing about this show is that it examined women not as wives, daughters, sisters, and mothers, but as people with agency to make choices towards their own happiness. Whatever form of “more” that women want should be accepted the same way that it would were the desires a man’s. I noticed a deliberate lack of the use of “man” and “woman”; Hamilton opted for “person” always, as though Phyl’s needs from Jack were no different than Jack’s needs from Phyl. There were so many questions to unpack about transactional relationships and what it means to make someone happy. The entire cast did a phenomenal job of asking these questions but not answering, each playing their role with the knowledge of the archetypes it carried. Phyl is powerfully relevant and magnificently presented. For once, Pages on Stages isn’t going to deconstruct what it all means; we’d rather you go and see it for yourselves.
I attended this performance on a press pass from JT Public Relations.
