People often ask me how 25 Questions for a Jewish Mother began, as if they are expecting some deep, heartfelt answer. The truth is my friend Kate Moira Ryan and I cooked up this idea over a couple of martinis on a bar napkin at Liz Smith's book party in Chicago. I was doing the Chicago Comedy Festival, and I said to Kate, "I've got to get out of these clubs. I want to do a one-person show." Her appropriately Irish response: "If you get me another martini, I'll write a one-woman show with you." I grabbed one from a waiter passing by and slammed it front of Kate. "Okay, now what's it going to be about? I've never been molested and I don't have an eating disorder—or at least not one that's going to make me thin."
Kate speared an olive and thought for a moment. "Well, what do you talk about in your act?"
"My mother," I said, "And what really pisses me off is that I keep getting complaints from the Jewish press that I'm promoting a stereotype."
"That's it!" she said. "We'll go around the country and interview Jewish mothers and see if there actually is a stereotype. I mean, you're a Jewish mother, and you don't seem to fit the stereotype. We'll see how you fit into the spectrum." That night, on a bar napkin, we came up with a list of 25 questions, including "What makes a Jewish mother different from a non-Jewish mother?" and "What do you think you would have done, if you hadn't had children?"
My friend and former producer Naomi Newman set up the initial interviews with her mother's friends. When we finished, we asked the women if they knew anyone else who would be interested in participating. We left each house with phone numbers and a ton of rugelach. The Jewish mothers we interviewed ran the gamut from gay, straight, orthodox, reform, Holocaust survivors, children of Holocaust survivors, Puerto Rican, Chinese—you name it. We asked each of them our 25 questions, and their answers changed my life.
Kate and I first did this play in Seattle in 2002 for the four Jews that live there thank god the city has good coffee. Needless, to say, it wasn't a resounding success. Kate read over the reviews and said, "You know what, Judy? They want less standup and more of the women. They also want to know why your mom is the way she is." Less stand-up was fine with me; I wanted this to be a total theatrical experience. We fleshed out and humanized my mother so she wasn't a haranguing stereotype. Then, over the course of the next four years, we continued to interview women. Kate would travel with me around the country to stand-up gigs, and we would call synagogues and find interview subjects.
As time went on, our lives got pulled in different directions, but this project was always at the forefront of my mind. When I was performing in Vegas, I told Jodi Lieberman of the Montreal Comedy Festival about it and did a reading for her several months later. She immediately offered us the festival. Kate asked Karen Kohlhaas a founding member of the Atlantic Theater Company to come on board as director. The great thing about working with Karen, besides her incredible sense of humor, is that she is also a senior teacher at the Atlantic's acting school. She helped me shape and focus the 12 women I do in the show.
On opening night at Montreal's Centaur Theater, I was nervous. Would the audience like the show, or would it be a repeat of Seattle? Had we done the work that needed to be done? The next day Kate and Karen ran to my hotel room and threw the newspapers at my feet. We got rave reviews! That led to a production last January at Ars Nova Theater, which said "yes" to us after many other theaters had said "no." Kate asked legendary lighting designer Jennifer Tipton and Obie Award-winning set designer Louisa Thompson to come on board. We both feel that it's really important to support women in the theater. During the first preview, Kate said she started to hear laughter and then more laughter. Jennifer leaned in and said, "Relax. Enjoy it. I think you've got a hit on your hands."
But still we held our breath. What would the Times say? At midnight, the review was posted online. It was a rave. I kept asking, "Where's the 'but'? There's always a 'but.'" There was not one but. We sold out for nearly three months and were extended twice. Now we've moved to St. Luke's Theatre for an open-ended run. The night of our dress rehearsal, Karen, Kate and I went three doors down to Joe Allen's to celebrate. As I pulled open the door, Kate said, "I always thought you had to have a successful show to go to Joe Allen's."
I turned her and smiled. "We do."
The other night in front of the theater, my friend overheard someone staring at the marquee. He pointed to the church and said to his companion, "Look at the name of this show, and it's in a church! That's how we do things in America—show this to those Muslim extremists!"