“Broad Strokes” at the Lucille Lortel Theatre (Photo: Matthew Murphy)
The stage of the Lucille Lortel Theater is transformed into a Gothic castle when the doors open for Cat Cohen’s new one-woman comedy musical Broad Strokes. Derek McLane’s set is all crushed velvet drapery and candelabras. An elaborate throne awaits its queen. Luckily, there’s a perfect monarch to take it.
Cohen’s show centers on her experience having a stroke at the age of thirty. As a teenager, she was diagnosed with migraines with a visual aura that have plagued her her entire life. Because of her medical travails, Cohen says she feels like a Victorian woman with hysteria whose treatment plan was to take to the sea. Hence the Gothic palace.
Cohen, in a yassified period dress by Kelsey Randall, performs for slightly more than an hour with a handheld microphone and a surprising number of original songs. The result is something between Six and a standard comedy show format, a mash-up made irresistible by Cohen’s off-beat charm and self-deprecating – though ultimately relatable – humor.
Director Alex Timbers brings his theatrical maximalism to the relatively small scale of Cohen’s show. McLane’s set is more elaborate than one would expect at a comedy show and Jake DeGroot’s lighting pops with blasts of color to emphasize Cohen’s punchlines. It all serves to bring out the heightened nature of Cohen’s storytelling.
Cohen’s stroke was caused by a hole in her heart and she details the incredibly stressful journey to get it repaired. She was forced to cancel an entire European tour and a stint at the Edinburgh Fringe, which obviously resulted in a huge financial loss. It also was not clear if or how much insurance would cover. The transparency was a welcome surprise. As if it’s not stressful enough to experience a stroke, there is the added worry about staying financially solvent.
The songs, by Cohen and David Dabbon, are quite earwormy and, of course, the lyrics are dextrous and chock full of jokes. They break up and emphasize Cohen’s monologue, often making light of quite bleak topics. The sound design, by Cody Spencer, fills the Lortel like a rock concert, once again amplifying the scale of Cohen’s tale.
Cohen self-identifies as “cringe” early in the show, but even if that’s so, Broad Strokes is making cringe look cool. It’s a hilarious Millennial saga and a great way to spend sixty-five minutes laughing your ass off.