Charles Busch has created a theatrical vehicle that has as its central character one of the most famous 19th Century (overly-dramatic) American actresses — which means, in effect, a sort of a drag queen. Except that this character was a real person, Laura Keene, who was on stage at Ford's Theater in Washington D.C. the night that Lincoln was assassinated. The first act is a comedy in the style that Busch excels in, with over-the-top women battling each other in backstage politics that has little relation to the important national drama taking place outside the theater.
Kate Mulgrew as Laura Keene is simply a force of nature. It is rare that one sees an actress totally give herself over to a role of this kind. There could be winks to the audience, with a touch of camp humor. But Mulgrew doesn't go there. She gives this role every ounce of her energy, and in the small space of the Manhattan Theater Club's Stage 2, you can feel that energy intensely. 
Yes, the first act is very funny. And then the President is shot. Some critics have had trouble with the quick shift in tone. But I thought the shift captured something all New Yorkers have experienced. Because in the first act, Keene is living her own fantasy life. She has created a story of her life that isn't really true, and her ambition has fomented rivalries in her theater company. After the assassination, the life story she has artfully created to hide her gutter origins collapses and she sees herself, and those around her, as the wounded, hurting, loving people that they are.
Of course, it doesn't last too long. The trance of narcissism takes over again. But for a brief moment, everyone in the play treats each other tenderly.
Those who lived in NYC at the time of the attack in 2001 will recognize this immediately. Not only did the towers come down, but momentarily, all our egos and selfishness came down as well. More than anything in those first weeks after the destruction, you could feel a real compassion throughout the city. You didn't know if the person next to you on the subway had lost someone — and so we were all exquisitely sensitive with each other. You can see that very same dynamic in Our Leading Lady. And then, the rush of life goes on, and the characters (and we all) return to things as before. With some real changes.
Keene is joined by a "Chinese" assistant: Madame Wu-Chan, a woman who is really as escaped slave 
masquerading as an Asian woman. This racial drag ricochets into a fun house mirror effect. Played by Ann Duquesnay, there is a moment when her character Madame Wu-Chan finally owns her true identity and speaks to her employer Keene as an equal. But when approached by a Union officer who speaks to her as though she were an uncomprehending child, she replied in exaggerated shuck-and-jive speech to protect herself — not an unfamiliar situation and painful to watch.
Don't think there weren't laughs in the second act. There were lots. But the tone shifts, and there is great seriousness and import in this comedy. At one point, Keene's lover asks her to marry him, even though her full life with all its imperfections has been revealed. This is the mark of true love. But she replies that she doesn't know how to be in a relationship with anyone without secrets. The start of self-recognition throughout the audience was palpable.
I admit I am in the minority on this. Apart from the MSM critics, Patrick Lee thinks the writing was confused and that Mulgrew had to work hard to sell it. I think it's more than worth seeing for you to decide yourself.
While I have enjoyed Busch's other baubles: Tale of the Allergist's Wife; Die Mommie, Die...this play goes beyond any before to explore rich new territory. I hope Busch doesn't flinch, but keeps going down this track. It takes a master to be able to walk the delicate line of comedy and tragedy within one play, and in this case, Charles Busch was a true master. Or mistress as the case may be.
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