
‘Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown’ Shines Brighter Than Its Flawed Script

It’s a testament to the incredible skill of director Alexander Berlage and his phenomenal cast that Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, a musical adaptation of Pedro Almodóvar’s 1988 film of the same name, is an outstanding, chic night of theatre in spite of its occasionally clunky material.
The transparent curtains draw on the life of Pepa (Amy Hack), an actress in 80s Madrid who’s just been dumped over voicemail by her partner Ivan (Andrew Cutcliffe).
As part of a whirlwind two days, Pepa searches for Ivan, finds out that she’s pregnant, discovers her friend Candela (Grace Driscoll) has gotten involved with a terrorist and accidentally meets the family Ivan left behind. Long story short, Madrid’s men are causing a lot of problems for everybody…
The show doesn’t take very long to prove that it’s aptly named. One of its greatest strengths is the sincerely frenetic nature that Berlage and his cast bring to the material, though the chaos never feels so unwieldy that it’s messy.

A show where cast and crew fire on all cylinders
Hailley Hunt’s set design perfectly conveys this feeling too, which is mostly Pepa’s apartment but ends up being utilised for a number of different locations with the help of a text box above the stage explaining where each scene takes place.
The text mostly helps the audience keep up given the lack of substantial set changes, which adds to the feeling of each hour blending together in a way that makes locations non-distinct (though I’m not sure if a moment with fire and smoke in the first act went to plan on opening night).
Luckily, the narrative of Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown is anchored by a phenomenal Amy Hack as Pepa, who dances along the knife’s edge of hilarity and sincerity with her rendition of the character. She rather appropriately feels on edge the whole time, leading to both big laughs and sincerely emotional moments in her fantastic performance.
The wider ensemble are all great, too. Andrew Cutcliffe as Ivan, Grace Driscoll as Candela (her performance of the song Model Behavior is remarkable) and Tomáš Kantor’s Carlos were all wildly entertaining, but Tisha Kelemen as Lucía is another major standout of this production.
What could be a fairly generic ‘crazy’ woman is in her hands turned into a character with a deep sense of heartbreak while also managing to be utterly hilarious – her act 2 song Invisible is a real standout.

Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown is sincerely funny and entertaining
It all makes Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown a zippy, entertaining show that’s much more than the sum of its parts. Though the musical is a faithful adaptation of Almodóvar’s book, the changes it makes to the structural framing of the story are a little bit strange.
A nameless taxi driver who encounters Pepa throughout (played by Aaron Robuck with some beautiful vocals) is the one initially who frames the entire narrative, as if Jeffrey Lane’s book doesn’t quite trust the audience enough to figure out the details themselves. This feeling is bolstered with a literal recap song in act 2 that ironically makes the story of the musical feel less clear given the way it blitzes through the events up until that point.
The world of the original Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown is already one rife with chaos, but it manages to find sincere emotional truth in its whirlwind. It takes this musical a lot longer to get there, which is absolutely no fault of Berlage or his remarkably talented team of performers and behind-the-scenes creatives. It can leave you wanting a little bit more from the musical’s narrative, though.
Nonetheless, it has little effect on how funny and entertaining Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown is to watch. Thanks to the outstanding Amy Hack and a real sense of style throughout, Berlage is able to elevate his take on this musical far above its supposed limitations.
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown is playing at the Hayes Theatre until June 8th.