And Miss Reardon Drinks a Little, a title so delightfully specific, yet with the sort of understated menace that suggests the playwright, Paul Zindel, may have spent one too many Thanksgivings locked in a kitchen with relatives he loathes.
Set in a claustrophobic Queens apartment, you know, one of those places where the walls seem to have absorbed generations of resentment, the play revolves around three sisters, all of them haunted in one way or another by the ghost of their deceased mother and the deeply dysfunctional childhood she bequeathed them.
Think: Chekhov’s Three Sisters, if the sisters had swapped their longing for Moscow with a thirst for something over 80-proof.
There’s Catherine, a schoolteacher who has taken to self-medicating with booze and sarcasm, a classic combination that ensures no social event ends well.
Anna, her sister and roommate, is slipping into a nervous breakdown with all the grace of a woman stepping on a sidewalk grate in high heels.
And then there’s Ceil, the estranged, hyper-competent career woman who traded domestic tragedy for bureaucratic backstabbing in the school administration office. If you’ve ever had a sibling who showed up at a family gathering with a superiority complex and designer shoes, you’ll understand Ceil immediately.
Zindel is best known for The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds, a play for which he was awarded The Pulitzer Prize.
Zindel has a gift for writing women who wield pain like a scalpel, cutting themselves as often as they cut each other. The humor in And Miss Reardon Drinks a Little is acidic, the kind that makes you laugh before you realize you should probably be concerned. It’s a play about loneliness, mental illness, and the kind of familial bonds that strangle as much as they support. And in the grand tradition of mid-century American theatre, it suggests that no one ever really escapes their childhood, it just follows them home, takes off its shoes, and pours a drink.
The story unfolds in the cramped, slightly decaying apartment of Catherine and Anna Reardon, two middle-aged sisters whose lives have been circling the drain since the death of their domineering mother. The third sister, Ceil, arrives like an uninvited IRS agent, ready to tally up the damages and declare the family emotionally bankrupt.
She arrives not just with expensive shoes, but with a sense of moral superiority that barely conceals her guilt for having left her sisters behind.
As the night wears on, Anna’s breakdown becomes impossible to ignore. She confesses to something unspeakable regarding their mother. Whether this is true or just a delusion born from years of emotional torment remains unclear, but the revelation sends the evening spiraling further.
Catherine, meanwhile, reaches her own breaking point. She’s not just a woman who drinks a little, she drinks to survive, to forget, to numb herself against a reality she no longer wants to face. And Ceil? She wants to help, but at her core, she’s just another Reardon woman trying (and failing) to outrun her past.
By the end, nothing is neatly resolved. Catherine and Anna remain trapped in their toxic dynamic, Ceil leaves feeling defeated, and the audience is left wondering whether escaping your family is an act of selfishness or self-preservation.
This is one of those classic 1970s cocktails mixed with dark humor and familial collapse, shaken with a spritz of existential dread and served in a chipped glass. You sip it expecting wit, but by the bottom of the glass, you’re just grateful the liquor dulled the pain.
And Miss Reardon Drinks a Little is one of those plays where you laugh while secretly feeling a little queasy. The humor is razor-sharp, the dialogue crackles with wit, and the tragedy of it all sneaks up on you like the hangover you didn’t see coming.
Cheers, Sweetie!
Since 1974 Good Shepherd Humane Society (GSHS) has proudly served the needs of local strays in Eureka Springs, AR. Whether educating the community on spaying and neutering their pets or caring for homeless animals in our animal shelter, GSHS does all they can to help.
As the only no-kill shelter in Carroll County, GSHS is solely supported by the caring donations and funding provided by our community, and through fundraising events like And Miss Reardon Drinks a Little and the annual Santa Paws Bash each December.
Good Shepherd has come a long way from its founding 50 years ago. It has had its up and downs and sometimes struggled to find its way, but we could not be prouder of the good it has done or the effective, professional organization that it has become. We owe this success to every person who has supported the cause over the years and with the continued support of our strong community, we will reach even greater heights.
The work at Good Shepherd is NOT taxpayer funded.❤️
First staged in 1967 but produced on Broadway in 1972, And Miss Reardon Drinks a Little starred Julie Harris, Estelle Parsons and Nancy Marchand and won a Tony Award for Best Featured Actress in a Play for Rae Allen.
Special Thanks to Gene Flake for making this happen for GSHS. In my blog-post, The Beautiful People of Eureka Springs, I explain that not only do Eurekans show up, when they do, they participate. Eurekans are doers. As much as the visitors to Eureka Springs enjoy all that there is to offer, the locals are very much a part of that experience, too. In fact, it's often the local mojo that brings the visiting experience to life. People see what it feels like through the locals and how they fuel the energy of the town. I am proud to call Gene one of the beautiful people of Eureka Springs. Thanks for all that you do, Gene. Break-a-leg!
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