In Shanghai Dolls, Madame Mao's life story of art, revolution and resentment is undone by clichés

Independent

11-04-2025

Set in 1930s Shanghai, in a theatre that doubles as a secret socialist safe house, we meet Jiang Qing – the future wife of Mao Zedong – rehearsing Henrik Ibsen's A Doll's House. Here, she meets Sun Weishi, who will go on to become the first female theatre director of China. But for now, they are just two penniless actors standing at the edge of upheaval, both personal and political. Based on the real lives of two women who helped define the Chinese Cultural Revolution, Shanghai Dolls explores the desire and consequences of artistic freedom.
'An obedient revolutionary, the perfect oxymoron' is how Jiang Qing is described. An actor who sees art as the path to selfhood and escape, she desires recognition – a desire so white-hot that it will lead her to become the ornamental, vengeful wife of one of the most tyrannical leaders in history. Sun, meanwhile, is already connected to the political elite. She has access to education, influence, and artistic training, all the things Jiang craves for herself. The play maps how the roles are gradually reversed, the powers shifting between them until one becomes the oppressor, and the other the oppressed.
The source material here is undeniably compelling – a cautionary tale of resentment and repression. But this production falters in its execution, opting for a melodramatic, borderline cheesy tone that undercuts its own message.
Gabby Wong (Jiang) and Millicent Wong (Sun) deliver highly stylised, sometimes hammy performances, which initially charm with their energy and chemistry. As the political backdrop darkens and the story demands more emotional heft, however, their exaggerated delivery jars. Stark mentions of famine and cannibalism are followed by interpretive dance torture scenes and renditions of Oklahoma! that veer into pantomime. The tonal whiplash leaves little room for emotional impact. Likewise, the play's relentless repetition of its 'women as dolls' metaphor gradually drains it of any power.
Despite tonal missteps, there is impressive work behind the scenes. Delivered by an all-female creative team, led by director Kate Posner, the show's design is where the play truly succeeds. Its opening image – a minimalist stage, so thick with smoke that, when lit, it resembles a dusty page turned from a history book – is striking. Visually, the world feels both intimate and unstable.
Clever shadow play and news clippings that burn across projected paper keep audiences anchored in the play's timeline, while military soundscapes nod to the building political unrest. The audience never has to question where we are in this story – or how near these characters are to their downfall.
Structurally, Amg Ng's play visits these women at key points in their lives as we witness Jiang's transformation into Madame Mao. How she evolves from spunky actor to decorative wife and finally to resentful bulldog, quick to bite those who dare express the artistic freedom she was denied.
Rage bleeds through Shanghai Dolls, embodied brilliantly and brutally by both actors. It is too bad that these moments are few and far between, quickly subsumed by the overacting and misplaced humour that defines most of this production.
Shanghai Dolls is a play with flashes of brilliance and a solid foundation with its rich historical backdrop, fascinating characters, and urgent themes. If only it could find the nuance and restraint to let that story speak for itself.