In the All Consuming Mommy Wars, I Choose the (Momma) Bear.
Cry It Out at Capital Stage proves, yet again, that being a woman is the literal worst.
Cry It Out, written by Molly Smith Metzler, is an incisive, deeply felt exploration of the joys and challenges of early parenthood, friendship, and the social divides that impact new mothers. The play, which focuses on the camaraderie and conflict between three women from different socioeconomic backgrounds, is a powerful commentary on the complexities of modern motherhood.
And just like motherhood itself, it made me tired.
Don’t get me wrong. This show is absolutely worth seeing before it closes at Capital Stage on June 2. Book your tickets now. I’ll wait.
As my colleague from Broadway World attests, “Cry It Out delivers the LAUGHS at Capital Stage” but it also delivers a LOT of emotions from the mothers in the audiences.
The story opens as we meet Jessie (played by a grounded and deeply invested Carissa Meagher), a corporate lawyer turned aspiring stay-at-home mom, and Lina (played by quick as a whip Luisa Frasconi), a working class hospital employee, who form an unlikely friendship over coffee while their infants nap. This relationship alone could have been the subject of a Russian novel to explain the complexities and differences in such a friendship. In a rapid conversational pace reminiscent of Amy Sherman-Palladino ala Gilmore Girls, they share both confidences and a backyard outside of their Long Island homes. Their intimacies highlight their struggles, fears, and hopes as new mothers, both characters craving the security of the “sameness” of their situations. With a common thread of “My husband/mother/sister/boss/etc doesn’t understand”, the unspoken bond is reinforced with “Girl, same.”
I had assumed going in that this would be the premise of the play completely as this relationship is well developed in the texts early on but as the rapid-fire pace of the show progressed, their shared bond is tested with the arrival of Mitchell, a seemingly befuddled and frightened new father. And I say arrival in the literal sense: Mitchell (played by the Jason “contains multitudes*” Kuykendall) appears in the shared backyard without an invitation in the middle of the day and somehow does not get pepper sprayed in the process. In fact, within a few short exchanges with Jessie, he is not only there without an invitation, the audience and Jessie are pretty much willing to give this man whatever he needs so he’ll stop looking at you like that. It’s darling and it’s weird and I have a lot of feelings about this character that will likely be addressed in therapy.
It unfolds that Mitchell’s wife, Adrienne, is struggling and therefore, Mitchell is struggling. Adrienne has no friends. Adrienne wants friends. Adrienne wants to be friends... with the women that she watches from the window of her large mansion on a hill. Totally normal, Mitchell. Totally normal.
The show begins to transform at the introduction of these new characters, narrative deftly shifting between humor and heartache, examining the intersection of personal dreams and societal expectations. This all culminates in Jessie (much to the protestations of a very vocal Lina) agreeing to welcome this woman into their shared, safe space.
The arrival of Adrienne to this dynamic brings even more heightened emotions for the characters as the meat of the play is really brought out: motherhood is not the same for every mother. And that pisses people off.
Out of the mouth of Adrienne (played by the incredible Rinabeth Apostol), playwright Metzler's sharp dialogue and keen observations make the audience reflect on their own biases and assumptions. And frankly? I discovered that I wasn’t as enlightened as I thought I was at the beginning of the play.
Spoiler/Commentary:
My jump to judge Jessie’s SAHM status and my 15 year old shame over my own motherhood journey was brought to the surface as fresh as it ever was and Adrienne’s transformation from ice queen to rage filled momma bear in a devastating confrontation with Jessie spoke to my entire soul. This confrontation is bookended by a heartbreaking final scene between Jessie and Mitchell, bringing the play to a finite but melancholy conclusion: none of the mothers will ever have everything they desire simply because there is never enough of “them” to be all things to all people, including themselves.
End Spoiler
This conclusion was a strong choice by the playwright and it was made all that more impactful by the (nonromantic) chemistry between Meagher and Kuykendall, masterfully brought out by director Judith Moreland.
I left the theatre shaking and quaking and not sure what to say or do but I did what I think Lina and Jessie would do: I talked to my mom friends about it.

The first question we tackled was, “Which character do you identify with the most?” and I gave my answer quickly (because oh my god ADRIENNE is giving Momma Bear). Then I sat with it for a couple of days because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say about this play. It made me feel things: frustration, fear, guilt, judgement (of others and myself), envy, impatience - all the things I feel all the time as a mother. But then I also felt the thing that Lina and Jessie felt at the beginning: the bond that comes from incredible sameness. While I do resent every limitation that motherhood puts on mothers, I am grateful for this play reminding me that I am not an island. And that is what good theatre does.
Go see this play before it closes.
Cry It Out at Capital Stage: Come for the laughs, stay for the unfettered and confusing mom rage.
I love this review and the truth of it. That none of the mothers get what they want because there is not enough of them to go around. I feel that in my bones. I identified a little bit with all of them but not really one in particular and I think that’s cool too. A really emotional and thought provoking piece of theatre.