The Drayton Arms Theatre, London – until 2 March 2024
Reviewed by Chelsea Kania
4****
Before Meryl, before Cate and way before Zendaya, there was Sarah. Often hailed as “the first modern celebrity,” Sarah Bernhardt was a businesswoman, icon, artist and director on top of being the most famous actress of the 19th century. She played male roles, pushed social boundaries, and even moonlighted as a courtesan.
Which is why I was keen to dive into her complex world with Sarah Quand Même, both written and performed by Susie Lindeman, who is herself no stranger to bright lights. Lindeman’s credits include Oscar and Prix Europa award-winning films and West End productions. The play is directed by her fellow Aussie native, the London-based director Wayne Harrison, former Artistic Director of the Sydney Theatre Company.
Lindeman’s one-woman-show probes the public controversies, unapologetic eccentricities and thinly veiled vulnerabilities of Bernhardt’s character in cradle-to-grave fashion during an imagined backstage conversation with her granddaughter. The core of the show is her persistent individualism, underscored by her repeated catchphrase, “Quand Même,” meaning “Despite all!” But for all her tragedies, including the loss of her leg and a very public cancellation by polite society, Lindeman’s Bernhardt seems to be aware of the novelty of her wild existence. And in this way, the play’s format suits its message: life is just one big rehearsal.
The real highlight of the show is Lindeman’s commitment to occupying Bernhardt’s mind, body and spirit. It’s a convincing character study and a fun way to learn about someone somewhat lost to history; the audience can truly time travel. So although my preferred run time would have been 60 minutes and the intermittent French was sometimes hard to follow for a non-speaker, Lindeman was a real pleasure to absorb.
What has always fascinated me about Bernhardt is the way she juggled her keen awareness of the power of her own celebrity alongside her determination to be free. We get a taste of this juxtaposition in this performance, punctuated by the line, “Women are not allowed to be real.”
I’m still eagerly awaiting a miniseries, but in the meantime I thoroughly enjoyed this intimate and bravely acted jaunt into Sarah Bernhardt’s personality