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Reviews
Handling the raw script best, Shearer is decidedly the solid anchor for this staging. Consistently captivating and versatile, she ingeniously captures the damaged spirit of a woman both comforted and devastated by her own illusions and those that have been created for her.
BackStage West - Kristina Mannion
Shearer-Stewart's unrelentingly vapid effervescence anchor the dicey purpose of Beckett's language to a relevant vision as firmly as Winnie is anchored to her mound of refuse. Shearer-Stewart's elastic performance [has] just the right play of tautness and give.
Brook Stowe
As Lois, Susan Shearer/Stewart is certainly entertaining - her character is an odd combination of loopy and cheerful with a sluttish, vindictive nature.
The Register – Eric Marquese
Shearer/Stewart is an appropriately befuddled Winnie. Her best moments arrive in the second act, in which her increasingly anxious expressions and words spell out Winnie’s fear, now heightened as she becomes literally and figuratively mired from head to toe in despair.
Backstage West – Kristina Mannion
Susan Shearer-Stewart shines as Winnie, a woman who finds and relishes even the tiniest morsel of hope as her world slowly smothers her. Shearer-Stewart’s Winnie seems anchored in the past, unable or unwilling to deal with the harsh realities of her present. On the rare occasion she does address the way her life has turned out, she does so only in the most superficial manner. It’s as though she views her garbage-covered life as the way things ought to be—which reinforces one of Beckett’s main thrusts in this play: that we spend our lives trapped in denial.
OC Weekly – John McElligot Jr.
Shearer/Stewart’s best moments come in the charged scene when Winnie lifts a revolver from her bag and blithely dwells on it. There’s something ominous, and effective, in how she responds to the weapon. We wonder if she’ll be tempted to use it, either on herself or her man.
LA Times - Mark Chalon Smith
Mrs. Pascal (Susan Shearer/Stewart) presides boozily over a brood rotten with corruption and detached intellectual decadence.
OC Weekly – Chris Ziegler
In a few deft strokes, Shearer/Stewart paints Mrs. Pascal as a promiscuous virago as loony as her daughter -- and serenely accepting of Jackie-O's lurking insanity and the other events that occur under the roof of "The House of Yes."
The Register – Eric Marquese
Susan Shearer-Stewart’s memorable bag lady mines her character for genuine gold.
OC Weekly – Joel Beers
Of special note [is] Susan Shearer-Stewart as the Bag Lady, giggling in a foggy sense of happi-ness.
LA Times – TH McCulloh
Susan Shearer/Stewart (The Bag Lady) excels as a caterwauling free spirit.
Marc Jonas
Susan Shearer plays the role of Gladys, a social worker assigned to David. Shearer does a great job playing a character torn between compassion and duty.
WALLFOUR.COM - Richard Tomoguchi
Reeves (dir) gets compelling work from Susan Shearer as a calm, sympathetic social worker who can match Sally's toughness when needed.
The Register - Eric Marchese
Susan Shearer as the wigged-out, pistol-wielding Mona – the best!
OC Weekly - Rich Kane
Shearer-Stewart is the ideal Kitty, a sturdy, mellow blonde capable of displaying great compassion and pain without being robbed of the character’s essential joie-de-vivre.
The Register – Eric Marquese
Susan Shearer/Stewart is a standout amongst the four-person cast, which does a wonderful job tackling the rich material.
The California Tech
Shearer-Stewart portrays Katharine as a schizophrenic pool of genuine concern and enthusiasm and troubled undercurrents.
OC Weekly
Shearer is touching as the wife who learns her unborn child will be retarded.
TH McCulloh
Susan Shearer/Stewart as Gail gave an incredible performance. It hurt to watch her being tossed about, drug by her hair, then doused with alcohol and almost set aflame! She was the older woman there to abort her unborn child because it would have serious health problems. Her finest scene was after the fact when traumatized she became like a small child and talked about her husband having the same dream. The lady made you weep.
LaDonna
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