'My Joy Is Heavy' Off-Broadway review — The Bengsons explore grief through song
Read our review of My Joy Is Heavy off Broadway, an autobiographical musical written and performed by married folk duo The Bengsons at New York Theatre Workshop.
Summary
- My Joy Is Heavy is a musical memoir by Shaun and Abigail Bengson about their experiences with pregnancy and miscarriage during the pandemic
- The show sometimes rushes through transitions between joyful and painful moments but is overall an honest and poignant exploration of grief
- All performances feature accessibility measures like open captioning; dim lighting for those with sensory sensitivities; and the ability to leave your seat as needed
It’s difficult to critique a show as intimate as My Joy Is Heavy, the newest offering from folk duo The Bengsons at New York Theatre Workshop. Creators, performers, and spouses Shaun and Abigail Bengson are upfront about the messy details that color their lives in the show, which is set in 2020 and 2021 as they were quarantining at Abigail’s mother’s home with their toddler son, Louie. They try to conceive another child without Grandma Kathy knowing they’re having sex in her house; Abigail deals with migraines and unexplained pain; Shaun spirals about the more personal requirements of fertility testing (“So you know I grew up Christian with all of that abstinence education stuff,” he sings); and Louie gets a lot of screen time, because what else is he supposed to do right now?
These details, and whimsical songs about them, emerge before the Bengsons get into the gritty heart of their piece: Their past experience with miscarriage changes their relationship to their bodies and any future theoretical child. They want another baby, so they technically want a positive pregnancy test, but the confirmation brings with it so much dread of potential loss that they can barely cope.
Pregnancy is, in some ways, a liminal space, a "not yet" period that carries with it so much promise of "soon" but also the weight of "maybe not." Abigail understands this in both body and metaphor, delivering a speech near the end — filmed on a phone during lockdown and incorporated by video designer David Bengali — about how one can’t be both “a little bit pregnant or a little bit dead.” “You can be both of those things, sometimes at the same time,” she says, walking along a road. That liminal space is ripe for theatre: The ephemeral state of the body like a set constructed and then struck in a matter of weeks. Lee Jellinek’s set is, like the pregnant body, a half-constructed house, waiting for either the wrecking ball or the next contractor. Jellinek’s design is a beautiful complement to the Bengsons' story.
The transition from grief to joy is a bit too fast; it’s meant to be woven together, Shaun and Abigail’s joy for their pregnancy being “heavy” because letting themselves love means setting themselves up for potential heartbreak. While the final musical number (the show's title song) is a celebratory explosion, it also comes on strong mere moments after the audience learns of Abigail’s miscarriage, which itself comes one scene after she and Shaun decide they’d “like to be happy” about their pregnancy. The audience can’t strap in for months of story, of course, but the fast pace of The Bengsons' tonal shift is a bit jarring in a show that otherwise holds the audience’s hands so gently. The realization that you cannot really protect yourself from grief by avoiding love or attachment is something that comes with months of therapy, not minutes of song.
My Joy Is Heavy summary
When Covid shut down theatre in 2020, Abigail and Shaun Bengson shacked up with Abigail’s mother in Vermont. In a crowded house with their toddler son, Louie, who now lives in “a world that only has three people in it other than himself,” Abigail and Shaun figure out how to keep creating theatre. They’re under commission from D.C.’s Arena Stage to create the piece that will become My Joy Is Heavy, so they begin experimenting with new music and constant video recording.
At the same time, the Bengsons are trying to have another child, but a positive pregnancy test comes with anxiety, not elation. Traumatized by her experiences of miscarriage and her medical journey with fertility, Abigail must decide if feeling joy is worth the cost of potential future pain.
What to expect at My Joy Is Heavy
My Joy is Heavy runs approximately 70 minutes without an intermission. All performances of My Joy Is Heavy are semi-relaxed, with open captioning incorporated into Jellinek’s scenic design and Bengali’s video design, respectively. Various access tools, like sensory toys, are available at the back of the house, and the house lights remain dim throughout the performance. Bengali’s video design does include some onscreen movement that may trigger some audience members with sensory sensitivities.
At the top of the show, Shaun and Abigail encourage audience members to “do whatever is good for your body and nervous system,” including leaving their seats. A program insert also contains a QR code where audience members can share photos that may be included in Bengali’s design at the end of the show, when the audience also gets wrapped up in the show as the cast walks through the aisles.
My Joy is Heavy discusses infertility, miscarriage, fertility-related surgical procedures, and pregnancy in detail. The show also discusses death, grief, illness, and isolation in the context of the Covid-19 pandemic, in addition to discussions of chronic pain, fatigue, and medical neglect of disabled people.
What audiences are saying about My Joy Is Heavy
Audiences have praised My Joy Is Heavy on platforms like Instagram and the theatre tracking app Mezzanine.
- Mezzanine user Jonathan Guttenberg calls My Joy Is Heavy “beyond transcendent.”
- On Instagram, singer Kate Chaston says she was “completely floored by” My Joy Is Heavy.
- Mezzanine user Stephen Kearley writes that “heavy is definitely one way to describe this beautiful show […] The Bengsons are a phenomenal pair who have created an absolutely beautiful story.”
Who should see My Joy Is Heavy
- Fans of The Bengsons’ previous works, including 2024’s The Keep Going Songs at Lincoln Center, will feel at home in Abigail and Shaun’s house at My Joy Is Heavy.
- My Joy Is Heavy offers yet another chance to see the work of NYTW favorite Rachel Chavkin, who directed Hadestown at the downtown theatre before staging it on Broadway.
- If you enjoyed NYTW’s How to Defend Yourself in 2023, you’ll want to see Steph Paul’s reunion with Chavkin as the choreographer for My Joy Is Heavy.
Learn more about My Joy Is Heavy off Broadway
Performing a show about one of the most physically and emotionally difficult experiences a person can have alongside one’s real-life spouse is sort of mind-blowing: How can you watch your actual partner sing right into your face about your actual pain? But The Bengsons are, above all else, honest in their performances. My Joy Is Heavy is the sort of collective, funereal experience that the ritual of theatre is fundamentally supposed to be.
Photo credit: My Joy Is Heavy off Broadway. (Photos by Marc J. Franklin)
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