Review: JANE ANGER

From Shakespeare in Love to the pop-powered reinvention of & Juliet, contemporary theatre has shown a persistent fascination with revisiting Shakespeare not as an implacable, stodgy historical figure, but as a living, pliable myth — one increasingly reshaped to amplify the voices history sidelined. Modern reinterpretations of Shakespeare’s works often focus on a common theme: bringing women from the edges of his narratives to the forefront. This trend highlights our ongoing reassessment of the literary heroes and our desire to challenge the notion of creativity and legacy that has been historically defined by patriarchal standards. Into this collection steps Jane Anger, a sharp, irreverent comedy by Talene Monahan that imagines a woman fighting to claim her voice and delivering a timely but also entertaining addition to the growing canon of Shakespeare-inspired works that rewrite history with an impish nod and a sharpened quill.

Set against the backdrop of plague-ridden London, Jane Anger is a clever, bawdy comedy that imagines what happens when a woman refuses to stay in the margins of literary history. With the theaters shuttered and William Shakespeare stalled by writer’s block, Jane Anger — his former “muse,” and a writer in her own right — wants her work published, an unthinkable demand in 1609. When a printer alludes that she needs to secure Shakespeare’s approval via signature to be published, Jane climbs through a quarantined second-story window to confront him, only to find herself trapped inside with Shakespeare and an ambitious “young” apprentice named Francis. Jane strikes a deal: Shakespeare will sign off on her publication if she helps him finish his latest play. Shakespeare agrees as they argue, flirt, and spar to completion. Eventually, Anne Hathaway joins the party, bringing to light the torture and loneliness of being the Bard’s wife, spurring an unconventional friendship with Jane.

Cynn Agent commands the stage as Jane Anger with a performance that is as sharp as the rapier she wields. From her first entrance, Agent slices through Monahan’s dialogue with precision, wit, and an infectious confidence that immediately draws the audience into her orbit. Vivacious and dynamic, she treats the text like a living thing, shaping each phrase with intention while never losing its playful edge. While the performance crackles with bravado, Agent wisely allows moments of stillness and emotional exposure to seep through, grounding Jane’s fury in something deeply human. Her Jane is a born storyteller, fully aware of her audience and unafraid to enlist them as co-conspirators in her quest for authorship, agency, and acknowledgment in a world determined to deny her all three.

As Francis Sir, CJ Mascarelli delivers a delightfully elastic performance marked by impeccable comedic timing and a keen sense of physical comedy. Whether through a perfectly placed facial tic, an exaggerated hand toss, or a cheeky hip thrust, Mascarelli keeps the energy light and unpredictable. There’s a spontaneous quality to his performance — one suspects a bit of improvisation tucked into the play’s text — that keeps both his scene partners and the audience pleasantly off-balance. The result is a Francis who is equal parts charming and ridiculous, a welcome layer of levity and frivolity to the production.

Johnny Kalita leans hard into the mythology — and the madness — of William Shakespeare, delivering a performance that gleefully upends the reverent pedestal on which the Bard is so often placed. His Shakespeare is a frenetic, volatile whirlwind, brimming with chaotic energy that veers from inspired to unsettling in the blink of an eye. Kalita’s physicality and unpredictability keep the action surging forward, making time slip by almost unnoticed as he bounces across the stage. It’s a bold, sometimes creepy portrayal that underscores the play’s central provocation: brilliance often comes tethered to ego, instability, and moral blind spots.

Not to be forgotten, Emily Mohney delivers an incisive turn as Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare’s oft-overlooked wife. Mohney imbues Anne with a disarming blend of sweetness, yearning, and comic precision, her rapid-fire delivery capturing the restlessness of a woman starved for excitement, recognition, and genuine companionship. While her performance is undeniably enchanting, it carries an undercurrent of melancholy that sharpens its impact. Anne’s innocence and magnetism only serve to highlight how easily she is dismissed — emotionally, intellectually, and historically — making Mohney’s portrayal a gentle but pointed reminder that those relegated to the margins often have the most to say, if someone would only listen.

Credit is due to director Chanel Bragg, assistant director Andrew J. Cupo, and the full creative team — including Maybe Stewart, Mark and JP Clemente — for staging a production that maximizes resources. Order Chaos Theatre Company continues to prove that meaningful theatre isn’t built on excess, but on collaboration, trust, and intention. From the efficient and evocative use of lights, sound, costumes, and set, to the palpable chemistry among the cast, Jane Anger feels like a genuine labor of love — one rooted in the belief that we need each other to tell bold stories well. That sense of community extends beyond the technical and into the heart of the play itself. Jane Anger wears the trappings of a raucous, risqué comedy, but beneath the blood, wit, and innuendo lies a poignant feminist argument about authorship, erasure, and who gets to be heard. In rejecting the myth of the lone (male) genius, the production instead celebrates collective creation — reminding us that theater, like resistance, is strongest when built together.