Pen Pals
Has little depth, but it’s a charming concept that avoids wearing out its welcome.
Michael Griffo’s Pen Pals follows two girls who meet through a Pen Pal program and become close. The two stay in touch for 50 years without ever meeting face to face.
Pen Pals, inspired by a true story, starts in the 1950s, when Mags (Johanna Day) and Bernie (Nancy McKeon) are assigned to be each other’s pen pals in middle school. Mags lives in England and Bernie lives in New Jersey, but the two quickly hit it off in their letters. This school assignment sparks a genuine connection, and they find themselves best friends, despite the ocean separating them. The two continue writing letters to each other for the next five decades, continuously updating each other on their lives, their thoughts on current events, the books they’re reading, and more. Their closeness is such that Bernie even names her daughter Belinda Margaret, after Mags. At the end of her life, Bernie decides to visit Mags in England, to finally see her best friend of 50 years in person. The two women embrace each other wordlessly as the show ends.
Director SuzAnne Barabas takes a muted approach, choosing to emphasize the intimacy of the narrative. Mags and Bernie are the only two characters in the play, and both are on stage nearly the entire time. There is little in the way of action, as the 80-minute runtime consists almost entirely of Mags and Bernie reading the letters they send to each other. The two actresses spend long periods sitting down and reading their letters out loud, and set designer Jessica Parks arranges the stage as two living rooms, separated by an invisible barrier that neither can cross. Maintaining the physical distance between the characters, the set and directing evoke the feeling of being in both living rooms at once, listening to Bernie and Mags casually read their letters out loud before mailing them.
Costume consultant David C. Woolard keeps things simple – both characters wear the same clothes for nearly the entire runtime. However, at the very end, when the two plan to meet, they dress up – Bernie dons an elaborate feathered scarf that makes a memorable accessory. Lighting designer Jill Nagle keeps the brights soft, avoiding any focused spotlights. Notably, the lighting doesn’t always leave Mags or Bernie in the dark when they’re not speaking – allowing both to emote in real time as the other one reads out the letter they’ve sent. It’s a subtle yet impactful choice, one that improves the play overall.
Playwright Michael Griffo’s script succeeds in giving both characters distinct ways of speaking. Bernie appears as the pinnacle of midcentury American neuroticism – she downplays her feelings, preferring to articulate her distaste for others over her own needs. Gossip is her perennial forte, and no one escapes her constant judgment – not Mags, not even herself. Mags, by contrast, is more direct in stating how she feels, has a bit of a mean streak, swears regularly (Bernie does not), and rarely expresses shame.
Actresses Johanna Day (Mags) and Nancy McKeon (Bernie) both bring a lot of nuance to their performances. McKeon skillfully shifts her voice and body language to demonstrate the passage of time – her reading is fast and exuberant when Bernie is a teenage girl, and gradually becomes more measured as the decades progress, but regains her vigor when she’s particularly excited – such as at the end, when she visits Mags. She also gets most of the big laugh lines of the play, all of which McKeen nails. Day keeps her performance more even, but articulates Mags’ anger quite well.
Bernie’s conservative streak is a constant source of tension between the two. At one point, Mags decides to terminate an unwanted pregnancy – something Bernie considers a grave sin. Bernie, ever conflict-averse, doesn’t even tell Mags she’s furious with her, she simply doesn’t write to her for a year. Eventually she decides she wants to stay Mags’ friend anyways, despite their moral differences. Later, Mags cheats on her second husband with a younger man, and candidly admits she feels no remorse about this. Bernie is incensed, and this time she actually says that. It’s a nice moment of growth for her character.
The unique format of the play is often quite charming, but has its drawbacks – namely, tension tends to simply dissipate. The most notable example would be when Bernie, in utter despair after a miscarriage, writes to ask Mags how it felt for her to have an abortion, saying they’ve both “lost a child.” Mags responds with her characteristic blunt honesty – she chose to terminate an unwanted pregnancy, which is entirely different, and she feels no guilt, because she knows she did the right thing for herself. Rather than further explore this compelling conflict, the play simply moves on. The two don’t exchange any further letters for over a year, and the subject is never raised again.
Indeed, almost every major argument between the two ends this way – they don’t write for a while, then they pick back up without addressing it. As a teenager, Mags writes of working at her parents’ bar, where she’s often groped by male patrons. Bernie says she’s being a buzzkill, and the topic is dropped. There are many charming moments in the play – from sincere expressions of deep friendship to sharp jokes, but much of the deeper conflict is left underexplored.
Pen Pals has little depth, but it’s a charming concept that avoids wearing out its welcome.
Pen Pals (through February 9th, 2025)
LDK Productions
The Theatre at St. Clement’s, 423 W. 46th Street, in Manhattan
For tickets, call 212-739-7875 or visit https://penpalsplay.com
Running time: 80 minutes without an intermission
Leave a comment