Eleanor was not a pretty baby. She was, in fact, not a pretty woman. She was married to very handsome man, her cousin, and they lived a very handsome life together and apart. Hers was made handsomer - or prettier if you prefer - through her activities, her choices and her work. No first lady of the land, not Dolly Madison, Jackie Kennedy or Mary Todd Lincoln ever did as much on the world stage as Eleanor. No one sacrificed as much, worked as hard or accomplished as much. This is just the truth that St. Germain's play brings to life through the delightful chatter he gives this character in the physical and verbal person  of Harriet Harris. She is the ideal interpreter  of his text, giving a vivid near-reincarnation of this woman.

        It's not that she looks like her, or even sounds that much like her, but Harris manages to conjure up the feel of her on stage. This is not imitation; it's acting. She allows us to feel what Eleanor feels in her memories of her youth, in her marriage, in her relationships with those she meets and makes a part of her life. Her long affair with reporter Lorena Hickock is underplayed; her romance with her bodyguard is underplayed. Her involvement with her many causes, with the United Nations is underplayed and yet we feel that we've experienced them all as Harris speaks of them. I don't know how she does it but some credit must be shared with her director Henry Stram, a man I've never encountered before who, according to his program bio, has known Harriet Harris for a lifetime. Their work together on this play is extraordinary. That's the only word for it.