Review: Have You Met Jane Goodall and Her Mother?, a Meandering Historical Comedy

Few conservationists have been more consequential than Jane Goodall, the 90-year-old primatologist whose up-close-and-personal observations of chimpanzees have given humanity vital insight into one of our closest evolutionary cousins. I have no doubt that her long and interesting life could be the source of a fascinating stage play. But it’s not Have You Met Jane Goodall and Her Mother?, the mediocre historical dramedy by Michael Walek now making its world premiere at Ensemble Studio Theatre.

The story focuses on an early chapter in Goodall’s career, when she first traveled to Gombe National Park in 1960, in what was then the British colony of Tanganyika. The government insists that 25-year-old Jane (Brittany K. Allen) bring a chaperone, Britishly assuming she will understand the subtext (bring an older man). But in a move characteristic of Jane’s politely rebellious spirit, she brings her mother, Vanne (Kristin Griffith).

This causes no small amount of angst for Game Warden David Lancaster (Tommy Heleringer), who is all too aware that the locals will be suspicious of the sudden arrival of two upper-class English women right before an important election to determine Tanganyika’s future relationship with the British Empire. He inexplicably assigns socialist agitator Adolf Siwezi (Jordan Donaldson) to be Jane’s minder.

But Jane has a problem: She cannot consistently locate the chimpanzees, so she enlists the help of animal tracker Soko “Short” Wilbur (Rami Margron). A zoologist, a hunter, and a socialist walk into the jungle—what could go wrong? Plenty, and yet not nearly enough does to hold our interest.

Those who frequent the theater will recognize Walek’s tedious diet-Brechtian style, in which the actors pop out of character to narrate the story and explain key themes like the hosts of a children’s television show. It’s a way for the playwright to show his research while simultaneously asserting that his artistic license is unbound by the historical record. That would be fine if Walek did something interesting with that license, but Jane Goodall is a disappointingly ho-hum affair.

The play is billed as “a new comedy” although the laughs are mostly the polite sort one releases in a vain effort to speed along this two-hour, 30-minute hack through the wilds of Wikipedia, during which our guides lead us down multiple dead ends.

One can feel Walek growing bored with his subject as he introduces two gay subplots, one entirely relegated to a single distended monologue about cottaging and self-harm. Not even a sensitive performance by Heleringer can lift the stench of fraudulence off this shoehorned PSA.

Walek readily confesses his contrivance, as if that makes it better: “Everything about my character is made up,” Donaldson states at the top of the second act, “though we really hope one of those local boys had a great gay love affair while his country voted for Socialism.” This is less a historical comedy than Ryan Murphy-style wish fulfillment.

As is the case with many of those hastily produced TV series, Jane Goodall’s one saving grace is the leading lady. Allen’s wide-open eyes convey the curiosity of a woman who really sees how things work—not just in chimpanzee society. Her interactions with Griffith are highlights, capturing a complicated and occasionally fraught mother-daughter relationship.

Director Linsay Firman has staged a tidy production on Tanya Orellana’s set of blond wood and green blocks, which resembles the playroom of a Swedish daycare. Reza Behjat’s lighting helps to transform the space as needed. Kathy Ruvuna brings the sounds of the jungle into the theater. And Suzanne Chesney’s contemporary casual costumes subtly suggest character while holding the actors in the present. Undoubtedly, the most impressive design element is Lake Simons’s beautifully crafted puppet of David Greybeard, one of the first chimps Goodall observed.

Unfortunately, there is only one real moment of interaction between Goodall and the chimps, and it is entirely described in a monologue. The audience of Jane Goodall watches a play about a woman who watches. I’m not convinced that must be a recipe for boring theater, but it undoubtedly is here.