Comments on: The Lucky Me Review

By: Jud Newborn

Jud Newborn — Thu, 21 Nov 2013 21:01:37 +0000

How about cutting Sachi Parker some slack, given that this first performance was basically a workshopping? Apparently Sachi and the play have improved, as evidenced by a private performance at Manhattan’s National Arts Club. I didn’t feel Parker was suggesting ever that she was the acting equal of her mother; only that her mother offered none of the support that might have helped her develop, and in fact got in her way (including leaving her adrift without funds for college, and presuming that at 2 or 14 she would take care of herself.) She was, indeed, uncanny in her capturing of MacLaine’s personality as we know it from films and the media, and a bit more too, being her daughter . But she also embodied at least 4 or 5 other characters, male as well as female – so she did a good job populating the stage, which shows her chops as an actress. Given her mother’s fame, money, and constant visibility, the woeful circumstances of Parker”s childhood would certainly be raised for her (and the audience) in relief. There’s also the ingrained Japanese female submissiveness she grew up with (and remember this started in 1958, not 2013) – along with a sexually-inappropriate and quite monstrous, abusive father. She makes clear this was a running problem for her, leaving her on the periphery of her own life. So she’s actual something of a plucky Dickensian character here, who winds up becoming the mother she never had. The play still has flaws – some fine-tuning is needed – but it didn’t come off as a vindictive Mommie Dearest at the NAC, rather a surprisingly generous treatment of a famously eccentric mother who should never have been a mother at all – knew it at the time – and continued blithely on.

By: Jud Newborn

Jud Newborn — Thu, 21 Nov 2013 21:00:22 +0000

How about cutting Sachi Parker some slack, given that this first performance was basically a workshopping? Apparently Sachi and the play have improved, as evidenced by a private performance at Manhattan’s National Arts Club. I didn’t feel Parker was suggesting ever that she was the acting equal of her mother; only that her mother offered none of the support that might have helped her develop, and in fact got in her way (including leaving her adrift without funds for college, and presuming that at 2 or 14 she would take care of herself.) She was, indeed, uncanny in her capturing of MacLaine’s personality as we know it from films and the media, and a bit more too, being her daughter . But she also embodied at least 4 or 5 other characters, male as well as female – so she did a good job ‘populating the stage,’ which shows her chops as an actress. Given her mother’s fame, money, and constant visibility, the woeful circumstances of Parker”s childhood would certainly be raised for her (and the audience) in relief. There’s also the ingrained Japanese female submissiveness she grew up with (and remember this started in 1958, not 2013) – along with a sexually-inappropriate and quite monstrous, abusive father. She makes clear this was a running problem for her, leaving her on the periphery of her own life. So she’s actual something of a plucky Dickensian character here, who winds up becoming the mother she never had. The play still has flaws – some fine-tuning is needed – but it didn’t come off as a vindictive “Mommie Dearest” at the NAC, rather a surprisingly generous treatment of a ‘famously eccentric’ mother who should never have been a mother at all – knew it at the time – and continued blithely on.

By: Stitch Jones

Stitch Jones — Thu, 17 Oct 2013 04:48:20 +0000

I enjoyed reading your review. I have not yet read Sachi Parker’s book, only a few excerpts, but I’m intrigued, not necessarily for obvious or lurid reasons. Yes, her acting resume leaves much to be desired and it sounds like she doesn’t have anything like mom’s stage ability…however, I can totally see Shirley seeing competition in her little girl who knew what to do in front of the movie camera, and wielding her power and influence simply because nobody opened doors for her – which would explain the dearth of acting roles. Few things are more mutually exclusive than nurturing motherhood and the Rat Pack, this should be obvious. So even though I haven’tactually read Sachi’s story yet, just call me Mulder, because I want to believe…!