Writer and Director: Roger Steinmann
Ruth Madoff was the wife of Bernie Madoff, one of the greatest crooks in recent history. A consummate fraudster, he embezzled vast sums from ordinary people, charities, and Hollywood stars alike. He’s the reason Kevin Bacon does adverts for mobile phones – Bacon was just one of Madoff’s high-profile victims who surfaced in 2008, but there were countless others who invested their life savings into the illusory Ponzi scheme he masterminded. Ruth Madoff, still alive today at 84, is the subject of Ruthless, a fictional encounter with the widow which asks many questions about her character, judgement, and culpability.
How well do any of us know our family or friends is a pertinent question, and the ideas of deception, performativity and masks have a natural home in theatre. Emily Swain takes on the formidable title role. We see her in a sparse room, wearing cheap high street clothes. Behind her are three large photographs of her family, all men, all in suits. Benevolent-looking Bernie in the middle, a wolf-like smile plays on his lips. He is flanked by both sons, who apparently knew nothing about their father’s financial shenanigans. All are now dead. Bernie died of natural causes in jail, Mark committed suicide, and Andrew was lost to cancer, both in their 40s. Against this shrine, Ruth struggles to live in the present and confront her past, life choices or herself: “How well did I know my husband? He lied to me his entire life…I knew nothing.”
This potentially fascinating character study is part inspired by tragic Hollywood female roles like Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard and Blanche DuBois in Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire, with their loose grip on reality and vulnerability. The performance veers between tragedy, comedy, and parody. This is the tragedy of a woman undone by her childhood sweetheart, with whom she shared a life for 62 years, mainly in the lap of luxury. It’s sometimes played for laughs and entertainment. The lack of subtlety and nuance renders “Ruthie” complete with a Bugsy Malone accent, pure Chicago gangster’s moll, and at times cartoon-like.
A long play at one hour 40, including a 15-minute interval, there are nonetheless elements missing from the character arc which limit an audience’s capacity to fully engage with her story. We learn nothing about Ruth’s childhood or upbringing. We hear nothing about her love of objects, the material, and finer things in life. We understand little about the relationship with her sons or husband who remain as two-dimensional as the photographs that look on. When we should be aching with sympathy for this woman driven to pop pills, guzzle booze, brandish a handgun, and proposition the pizza delivery boy, it’s a stretch. The audience becomes an extension of the jury, and we are not invited to understand Ruth, but rather, to judge her and judge her harshly.
The script leans towards great sweeps of emotion and melodrama. Ultimately, Ruth is blamed for her gullibility, naivety, and materialism in a portrayal that verges on the misogynistic. From the outset, there’s a lack of care or empathy for Ruth, who comes across as not terribly bright and who probably got what she deserved. Much as we hope for her enlightenment, for the chance for Ruth to learn, change or to experience redemption, this fails to emerge, only a prayer for forgiveness so she might be reunited with her family in the afterlife. A richer, deeper understanding of the character with more contradictory impulses, layers, and inner conflict would leave more space for an audience to make up their own minds to the question: was she an innocent bystander or willing accomplice? Ruthless presents one version of events, and the clue is in the title.
Runs until 29 June 2025
