'Shanghai Dolls' review — this pacy two-hander provides a window into a terrifying period of Chinese history

Read our review of new play Shanghai Dolls, starring Gabby Wong and Millicent Wong, now in performances at the Kiln Theatre to 10 May.

Eva Peron wasn’t the only dictator’s wife to seek an escape from abject poverty by pursuing a career as an actress. Jiang Qing, better known in the West as “Madame Mao” (as the fourth wife of Chairman Mao), also trod the boards and appeared in films – and her acting ambitions were rather loftier than Evita’s. According to Amy Ng’s play Shanghai Dolls, her ideology was framed by a lifelong attachment to the role of Nora in A Doll’s House, which she played for the League of Left-Wing Dramatists in 1935.

In this two-hander that spans the 1930s to the 1980s, Ng, a professional historian and translator, intertwines Jiang Qing’s (Gabby Wong) story with that of Sun Weishi (Millicent Wong), the daughter of a Communist Party martyr and later the adoptive daughter of Zhou Enlai (the intellectual of the Cultural Revolution – Mao was considered the peasant), who became China’s first female theatre director.

Biographical details about the early lives of both women are sketchy and, by imagining a close friendship between the two as young women, Ng explores ideas about culture, power and corruption in a turbulent society where art, marches and executions uneasily co-exist.

Initially, Sun is a waif and an earnest Party member, while Jiang (then known as Lan Ping), who takes her under her wing and recognises her innate talent as a director, is a cavalier Communist, buying expensive clothes and macaroons (Nora’s favourites) to help her get into character. In their flatshare, Chekhov and Ibsen are as hallowed as Marx and Lenin, and Sun is left to pick up the pieces when the fanciful Jiang gets carried away.

Gabby Wong and Millicent Wong are adept sparring partners and evoke a credible sisterly relationship that was poisoned by Jiang’s ambition. Gabby Wong captures the giddy excitement of the young actress, and then transforms into the stern, unrepentant harridan of the newsreels just by pulling her hair back and donning glasses. It’s startling to learn that in the 1960s, Jiang apparently developed a taste for Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals, especially Oklahoma!. And Millicent Wong’s Sun quietly grows in confidence as a trailblazer, who somehow held on to her integrity in the darkest of circumstances.

The production is pacily directed by Katie Posner and Ng packs a great deal into the 80-minute running time so that it feels like a miniature epic. Jean Chan’s stark set design comprises three moving panels that call to mind interrogation chambers, and Akhila Krishnan’s fluid video design helpfully features newspaper cuttings placing the scenes in their context.

A grasp of the highly complex historical context would be beneficial (my companion, who lived in China the time of Jiang’s trial, knew the full biographies of all the players and details of the events covered; I did not). Jiang Qing demonstrated breathtaking cruelty even by the standards of the Cultural Revolution, for which she never showed any remorse. The play touches on her tough childhood filled with abuse but doesn’t dig as deeply as it could. If it doesn’t fully come to life, it does provide a window into a terrifying period of history where friendships counted for very little in the pursuit of power.

Shanghai Dolls is at the Kiln Theatre to 10 May. Book Shanghai Dolls tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk.

Photo credit: Shanghai Dolls (Photos by Marc Brenner)