Shannon Taylor, Jasmine Case and Zara Jestadt in Love Us Most. Here For Now Theatre 2026. Photo courtesy of Here For Now Theatre
By Galen Simmons
There are more than a few hard truths in playwright Sara Farb and director Sabryn Rock’s world-premiere production of Love Us Most at Here For Now Theatre this season.
Set in 2016, before the Me Too movement, this play takes place behind the scenes in the women’s dressing room for actors performing in a production of King Lear. Though it’s not expressly said, the Stratford Festival posters on the wall, amid hanging costumes and a large mirror, and behind a long makeup table set up with makeup and the requisite tools by each of the three women in the play, makes it clear the events onstage are inspired by real-life experiences of those who have worked at the festival.
But the story told could have taken place at any large theatre company across the country or around the world.
It follows the three women, named in the play’s program only as The One Who Plays Regan (Zara Jestadt), The One Who Plays Cordelia (Jasmine Case) and The One Who Plays Goneril (Shannon Taylor). The story unfolds before the play, during intermission and after the final curtain. While getting ready to perform, each woman reveals through natural conversation with their colleagues that they’re struggling with some aspect of their life and work in the theatre.
The One Who Plays Goneril is the oldest and most experienced actor of the three, managing her body insecurities as she prepares to audition for the role of Isabella in Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure. Though the role was promised to her by the artistic director, she soon learns The One Who Plays Cordelia, a much-younger, less-experienced actor, is also auditioning for the role.
Over time, it becomes clear The One Plays Cordelia has been recommended for the role by Julian Jeffrey (Kevin Bund) – a veteran male actor whose status in the company allows him to do and get whatever he wants – because “a Black Isabella” would draw attention to the show.
While The One Who Plays Goneril frustratedly comes to terms with this reality, The One Who Plays Cordelia is reeling from a frightening and sexually charged encounter with Julian in his dressing room. The male actor has been struggling with his lines recently, possibly an early sign of dementia, so The One Who Plays Cordelia is unsure as to whether the encounter was a symptom of his memory loss or if she should report him, and to whom.
The One Who Plays Regan convinces The One Who Plays Cordelia to let it go, suggesting the very act of telling someone could have a negative impact on her career trajectory – and it does, much later in the story. As it turns out, The One Who Plays Regan has been in a relationship with Julian, on and off for over a year, and her advice to The one Who Plays Cordelia is driven by a desire to protect the man she loves and respects.
Throughout the play, it is clear the three women are treated as second class compared to their male counterparts. While Julian gets a dressing room to himself with a shower and a working bathroom, the women are forced to share a dressing room with a bathroom and a toilet in desperate need of repair – something all three women have complained about that has never been addressed.
Though the drama in this play causes tension and mistrust between the women, they are not the cause. It is the institutionalized sexism, ageism and racism the women deal with on a daily basis that pits them against each other.
Though this play had moments of humour, the discomfort we felt as an audience through the phenomenal and entirely believable performances of Jestadt, Case and Taylor put us right in the middle of the toxic workplace many women in theatre – and other professions – have experienced.
This is not a play that leaves you feeling good at the end. It does, however, remind us of the importance these kinds of stories have in continuing to create and promote equitable and safe workplaces for everyone.
Personally, I enjoyed this behind-the-scenes look into the theatre world and I appreciate the courage it takes to put these women’s stories on stage.
Leave a Reply