Review: FOR THE PLEASURE OF SEEING HER AGAIN at Different Stages Repertory At The Vortex

Michel Tremblay's For the Pleasure of Seeing Her Again is more than a play—it's a love letter to mothers, to childhood, to storytelling, and to the complicated beauty of memory. At once sharply funny and deeply emotional, the play unfolds as a tender, semi-autobiographical conversation between a son and his mother, lovingly referred to as "Nana" (Karen Jambon). The son, or "Narrator" (Tom Chamberlain), is a stand-in for Tremblay himself. He returns to a version of his younger self as he revisits five scenes from his boyhood, where his mother is a constant, often exasperating yet endlessly enchanting presence.

The structure of the play is deceptively simple. It's a dialogue: two characters, one set. But what unfolds is layered and expansive. The Narrator, now grown and a writer, reflects on his relationship with his mother through a series of vignettes that chronicle their shared life, spanning his mischief-filled youth to his emerging artistic ambitions, which his mother meets with a mix of wide-eyed admiration and theatrical disbelief.

First performed in 1998, the play is written by Tremblay in memory of his own mother, who passed away when he was twenty. His hallmark blend of colloquialism, humor, and poignancy sings throughout the script. The fourth wall is gently, lovingly broken, as the Narrator tells us outright: "Nana is every woman." And indeed, she is.

Nana reminded me of my grandmother, who believed that movie stars could see audiences behind the movie screen. She reminded me of my mother, who used to play on my guilt to get me to confess my childhood pranks. She was my nutty Aunt Suzanne, gossiping about every family member after one too many glasses of wine. Nana transcends time and culture; she becomes every mother, every aunt, and every grandmother the audience has ever known.

Each scene peels back another layer of the mother-son relationship. There's the familiar tug-of-war of generational misunderstanding, especially over art and ambition, played with humor and growing poignancy. There are moments where laughter overtakes sorrow, where Nana's emotional outbursts are both ridiculous and profoundly moving. Her indignation at her son's “cheeky" childhood mischief is always filtered through deep, unconditional love.

In the final act, Tremblay moves beyond realism into something ethereal and poetic. It is here that the emotional heart of the play beats the strongest. The son, grown and grieving, imagines one last conversation, a final chance to hear her voice, to feel her presence, to sit in the pleasure of seeing her again. It's simply beautiful.

Under the expert direction of Norman Blumensaadt, this piece relies almost entirely in its two central performances. Jambon, as Nana, carries the weight of the play with emotional authenticity. She is sweet and sour, naive and wise, theatrical and grounded. Her performance oscillates effortlessly between laughter and tears, delivering punchlines with impeccable timing and, later, silences that land like poetry. Chamberlain, as the Narrator, anchors the story with gentle reverence. His performance is a dance of memory; at times, a son laughing at his mother's quirks; at times, a grown man aching with loss. Their chemistry is natural and believable, creating the illusion of a genuine relationship between mother and son.

For the Pleasure of Seeing Her Again is a small story with a big heart. It is deceptively light yet full of the weight of love, time, and loss. It doesn't ask us to marvel at grand drama but instead invites us into a kitchen, a living room, a memory. And it asks us to listen.

It is a tribute to the women who shape us, the stories that stay with us, and the bittersweet beauty of remembering.

Go see it. Laugh. Cry. Call your mother.

Duration: 90 min, no intermission

For The Pleasure of Seeing Her Again

Book by Michel Tremblay

Translated by Linda Gaboriau

Directed by Norman Blumensaadt

Now playing through June 14th, 2025

Thursday, Jun 5th, 8:00PM

Friday, Jun 6th, 8:00PM

Saturday, Jun 7th, 8:00PM

Sunday, Jun 8th, 6:00PM

Wednesday, Jun 11th, 8:00PM 

Thursday, Jun 12th, 8:00PM

Friday, Jun 13th, 8:00PM

Saturday, Jun 14th, 8:00PM

Different Stages Repertory Company

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