Amazing performance, Edgy, Challenging, Intelligent, Absorbing


See it if You want to see a seamless & engaging tour de force by Fraser, fully on, committed & inventive, to the smallest gesture, & in total control.

​Don't see it if You have no patience, don't like monologues, solo plays or the dark — literal or figurative.


Also Alison Fraser delivers a quiet, subtle and thoroughly engaging tour de force here, a virtual master class on risk, going all in, fully inhabiting a role and commanding attention for the duration of this difficult script. 

Seated in the dark for its 90 minute length, Fraser's every small gesture, curl of toe, shift of weight has meaning and propels the narrative action, and she manages to totally inhabit several characters, each distinctly etched by gesture and small adjustments of voice. Even the voice of her main character is layered with depth and hint of a varied past. It's a remarkable performance that carries, makes plausible and almost pulls off the end, the weakest part of the evening, and the script.

Well intentioned, Lifeless, Flat, Cramped, Slow


​See it if You're a fan of Shirley Lauro's work & care to hear what sounds like an uncut reading of her script in an evening that's more tell than show
Don't see it if You don't know the story; much is belabored & much won't be clear. Also, if you're familiar with any other versions, this will fall short.
Also Director Gordon has managed to make the worst of an awkward and difficult space, for the most part trapping the cast onto a cramped, noisy three-step platform along the house-left wall. Huddled together at times in often severe lighting, the young actors often seem left to their own devices. 

As directed, they stomp around the set, repeatedly acting out unnecessary physical details (carrying benches as gurneys, pantomiming bandages, etc.) and endlessly sorting out obvious, needless small costume changes, they never cohere into an ensemble of any sort, or even seem to come to terms with the audience—is there a fourth wall or not? 

Also, for a company whose notes claim a heavy focus on sound, there's a distinct lack of music, the unifying language of the 60's and the main reason for the Maryjo character.

Unusual for two productions of a play to run in a season, this version pales next to the earlier thought-through Little Spoon Big Spoon one; it's an educational, unfortunate contrast.

Absorbing & Intense, Extremely relevant,
Thought-provoking, Unusually terrific acting
Must see

See it if
You're up for a riveting, touching & intense evening of bravura performances from an amazing female ensemble (plus 1 male) superbly directed.

Don’t see it if
Sharp, real & raw honesty onstage is too disturbing, or if opinions of 'Nam and/or women—in life, in war—are set in stone. By all means, go.

True stories of women signing up to serve in Viet Nam in the 60’s may not sound like everyone’s cup of tea, but Little Spoon, Big Spoon’s production of A Piece of My Heart at the IATI on 4th Street is more than worth the trip downtown. Even though the script, written by Shirley Lauro in the 90’s, runs from archetype to stereotype pretty quickly, the sharp focus here is on the performances, which give so much life and momentum to the evening, little else is noticed.

It’s rare to see a group of actors so uniformly good, gifted and evenly cast, and even more rare to witness the amount of honesty coming off that stage. This is the seldom seen example of an entire company attacking a script and through conviction, passion and talent, fulfilling not only its promise, but its intent.

A true ensemble, it’s impossible to single out any single performer. Chelsea Smith, Samantha Aneson, Randa Karambelas, Marlowe Holden, Sue Kim, and Reese Antoinette bounce off each other constantly, creating layered performances that evolve over the course of the evening, each having her moment, and Danny Grumich contributes a solid presence as the Every Man.

In an emotional evening that’s at times funny, searing, intense and even uncomfortable, each character runs the gamut from wide-eyed innocence to disillusionment, depression, PSTD, drug use and finally through to self-awareness and empowerment — and each actress dives in fearlessly and convincingly, showing amazing range. When Chelsea Smith’s Martha at last says "a piece of my heart dies with each of them," it tears to the core.

As would the ending, but for the drawn-out, needless repetition of acting out action read and described only moments before; the very long version of America ably sung by Ms. Aneson; the placing of objects on the Wall. It’s the only false note in an evening otherwise smoothly directed by Reesa Graham, but it’s a note — feeling almost forcibly attached — that seems determined to show us the final tableau even if it undercuts, rather than underlines the otherwise emotional momentum of everything that’s come before.

Nevertheless, this is fine work by an amazing cast of women that should be widely seen, a labor of love and necessity that brings to life a story way overdue in the telling. Over a quarter of a million women served in Viet Nam, gave of themselves, suffered and died, just as their male compatriots; the only difference was that they volunteered to be there. That this is news to most of us is unconscionable, as is the fact that the issues of sexism and racism against women that occurred there and then 50 years ago are sadly more relevant and with us today than ever.

​Little Spoon, Big Spoon Productions, founded by Chelsea J. Smith and Randa Karambelas, is a socially conscious company that posits art is a way to change the world; it’s a sure thing that bit by bit, with productions such as this, it can and will.