“Ava: The Secret Conversations” at New York City Center – Stage I (Photo: Jeff Lorch)

British journalist Peter Evans had covered celebrities for decades when the opportunity to ghostwrite Hollywood legend Ava Gardner’s autobiography landed in his lap. It was 1988 and she was recovering from a stroke that left half of her face paralyzed. Lengthy interview sessions ensued, both in person and on the phone, often late at night. The book promised to be a juicy tell-all until Ava abruptly ended the relationship. The contents of their conversations then lay hidden only to be published in 1992 after both actress and writer had died. This is the book Ava: The Secret Conversations that Elizabeth McGovern has cleverly adapted into a luscious piece of the same name and in which she also stars. The play brings to life the feisty, but faded star and positions her as an unapologetic man-eater who defies society’s expectations. Her co-star, Aaron Costa Ganis, adroitly plays not only Evans, but all of Ava’s famous husbands, and lovers too. It all adds up to some insightful and delightful Hollywood nostalgia while wrestling with the fact that her fame was, in large part, due to her perceived attractiveness to men.

Ava Gardner moved to London in 1966. When the play opens, she is living in a Rococo-style boudoir, a stone’s throw from the famous department store Harrods. Its elegant pink and gold tones are the perfect setting for a diva with floor-to-ceiling French doors (the set is designed by David Meyer). Into this glossy haven steps a self-involved journalist who hopes he’s about to bag a huge scoop – how big was Frank Sinatra’s penis? Sinatra was one of Gardner’s many husbands, but the actress, unexpectedly attired in a dowdy tracksuit, is not ready to dish the dirt. Elizabeth McGovern has taken passages directly from the source material to portray Gardner as an astute, but lonely, grand dame of Hollywood. She does a fine job of approximating Gardner’s southern lilt and flirtatious manner, but she also brings authenticity and verve to the star’s ability to curse like a sailor. Evans picks up on this colorful language and is all for quoting her verbatim in the book, but that gives Gardner pause. She doesn’t want to appear trashy. She does, however, want to open the autobiography with hair-raising vignettes of what it’s like to recover from a stroke. “We should tell them about the diapers,” she roars.

As they squabble over how to begin the book, Evans’ character wants to impose his will on Gardner – he reminds her he’s the writer. That shifting power dynamic is at the heart of the play, with each protagonist grabbing the upper hand in turn. As Evans teases out Gardner’s stories, we are led on a fairly traditional bio-play route – humble beginnings, her rise to fame, her brief marriage to Mickey Rooney, followed by an almost-as-short one to Artie Shaw, a famous band leader of the early 1950s. But given that we’ve been primed to be curious about Sinatra from the opening moments of the play, it is not surprising that that is where the drama really takes off. It’s also where Costa Ganis really shines with his point-perfect rendition of Sinatra, both in word and song. Sinatra left his wife for Gardner and, by doing so, tanked his career with the conventional public. Ultimately, the relationship was doomed. Its demise is alluded to through use of projected headlines on the backdrop (designed by Alex Basco Koch), a technique that is sometimes a little hard to follow in earlier scenes. Sinatra will also play a role in the end of the literary collaboration as a testament to Gardner’s fierce loyalty.

Throughout, McGovern suggests that Gardner did not care about convention and she strategically used her irresistible sensual power over men. That seems a bit of a stretch, especially during a scene covering her bizarre friendship with Howard Hughes. Here, Evans professes outrage at Hughes’ suspected abuse, but that seems oddly out of character for the writer who has hitherto not shown much awareness of gender dynamics. The play also considers the impact of extreme fame on the psyche and Gardner ponders a future that sounds familiar. “One day,” she says, “They’ll invent a way to make everyone famous,” and she speculates that no one will like the effects.

Any minor inconsistencies do not undermine this deeply engaging drama. Both McGovern and Costa Ganis maintain an awesome energy and ability to change pace. McGovern seamlessly travels back in time and through all of Gardner’s many incarnations, with some classy costumes by Toni-Leslie James along the way. And about that Sinatra question – does Ava reveal all?  I couldn’t possibly comment, but for Hollywood buffs this is a must-see.