"All Things Equal: The Life and Trials of Ruth Bader Ginsburg," written by Rupert Holmes, runs now through Nov. 27 at Bay Street Theater. It is a bonanza for R.B.G. fans, playing as a summation of her extraordinary career. It is, above all else, a celebration.
Others, looking for more nuanced theater, may find it wanting. It is less a play than an exercise in performance as autobiography, and, at times, less autobiography than hagiography.
The play is set exclusively in Bader Ginsburg's chambers at the Supreme Court. Though they are never seen, the justice is apparently speaking to a small group of young women, telling them her life story in hopes of inspiring them.
And the story is indeed inspiring. Strikingly similar to last year's single-woman play at Bay Street, "Becoming Dr. Ruth," "All Things Equal" follows the trajectory of a pixie-sized but highly determined Jewish woman as she battles male prejudice and antisemitism, and who triumphs through sheer moxie and intelligence.
Michelle Azar stars as Bader Ginsburg, and gives a very good performance, replicating her subject's unique voice octave and quiet confidence. Speaking directly to the audience, the justice tells us that she was born in Brooklyn in 1933, a precocious and highly talented student. Her mother died before she graduated from high school, and Ruth did not deliver a valedictory speech in order to stay home and console her grieving father. It was a manifestation of moral character that would follow her her entire life.
Her mother, the play tells us, squirreled away $4,000 for Ruth's college fund -- a considerable sum at the time. She attends law school at Harvard and Columbia, graduating first in her class. This success puts the world directly at her feet, of course. . . . Um, actually, no. Bader Ginsburg cannot seem to find a job. This is the late 1950s and the big law firms -- almost any law firms -- are still not hiring women.
She works as a law clerk, and later as a professor at Rutgers Law School, where she is not paid the same as her male colleagues, because, she is told, "your husband has a very good job." She moves on to the A.C.L.U., arguing six cases of female discrimination before the Supreme Court between 1973 and 1975, winning five of them.
It's this section of Mr. Holmes's play that becomes a bit monochromatic, as Bader Ginsburg begins a lengthy enumeration of her many legal victories. There are some helpful audio and visual aids that try to bring life to these cases -- but as happens with law, they often hang on matters of legal minutia. After a while, the play becomes simply a laundry list of success, and there is a self-satisfied air both to the text and Ms. Azar's performance of Bader Ginsburg, who eventually refers to herself as the GOAT (greatest of all time). This, to my understanding, runs counter to the justice's notorious humility.
Eventually we move on, watching on video as President Clinton appoints her to the Supreme Court, where she moves the needle on justice for women and other minorities, and becomes "notorious" for her fiercely argued decisions.
But we knew all this anyway, didn't we? Never in "All Things Equal" does the playwright try to show us a multidimensional person. A blemish or two would have colored the picture a bit. Was there no price for all this hard work and extraordinary achievement? Was she the perfect mother? Perfect wife? Friend? Any regrets, R.B.G.?
And what of her refusal to retire? In "All Things Equal," the justice reminds us how she endured a decade-long struggle with cancer at the end of her career. Many of us remember how frail and weak she would seem during public appearances, and how insistent the whispers that she retire became during President Obama's second term.
Instead she hung on, passing away during President Trump's administration. Her seat was quickly filled by Amy Coney Barrett, which paved the way for the overturning of Roe v. Wade. Naturally the playwright completely lets Bader Ginsburg off the hook. "I swore to fight for justice till my last dying breath," she states here as a defense, then weakly offers, "I thought Hillary would win."
A better play would have raised the question how Bader Ginsburg, who dedicated her life to women's issues, could let the future of their reproductive rights hang on a political hunch.
It must be mentioned how unflappable Ms. Azar is as a performer. On the night I attended, a scarf fell off her head, an earring flew off, an errant shoe blocked her sliding chair, and finally an elderly gentleman in the audience spontaneously spoke aloud to her, as if the play were a conversation.
All of this left Ms. Azar completely unfazed, and if her portrait of R.B.G. doesn't reach the heights of Tovah Feldshuh's Dr. Ruth last year, it is likely because she has less to work with here.
In the end, "All Things Equal" is the work of a playwright utterly besotted by his subject, and intent on raising the already legendary justice to Olympian status.
Someone could have reminded Mr. Holmes that even the gods were flawed, and it's their failings rather than their superpowers that continue to fascinate us.
