The lady in red is back, and she’s ready to demurely, if assuredly, defend herself.
Betty Crocker, the corporate avatar created to dish out recipes and encourage the sale of ready-made meals, is onstage again at St. Paul’s History Theatre in “I Am Betty.”
In a pivotal scene, she’s confronted by feminist author Betty Friedan, who wants to know why she is holding women back. The doyenne of domesticity explains that it’s all about women having the opportunity to choose what they do. Facing protests, Betty Crocker, played at this point in the story by a Black woman, further explains that “Black women have been juggling it all for generations. It’s upper-class white ladies who’re just discovering.”
Last year’s premiere of “Betty” was a surprise hit that traced a century’s worth of women’s progress through the General Mills spokesmodel. This year the musical has returned, with Joshua Burniece conducting, to slay.
Composed with deft lyrics by Denise Prosek and a clever book by Cristina Luzárraga, who also contributed lyrics, “Betty” is staged with sure-footed style and blithe panache by Maija Garcia. That confidence means that the action mostly zips along, with storytelling that’s clearer, cleaner and more engaging.
The performances also are more evocative. Jennifer Grimm is a hoot as a stammering, yammering Bing Crosby, and fearless as Friedan. Actually, the nine-member all-female ensemble performs like a seamless band, with each player taking on multiple characters and numbers.
Betty Crocker was created and played by many women, the musical asserts, even with male executives taking credit for women’s work. In the show’s respective two acts, Erin Capello and Lynnea Doublette depict two of the most important female figures in the story: Marjorie Husted, the pioneering and longest-serving Betty who wrote radio scripts for the character and vastly expanded its brand; and Barbara Jo Davis, the first Black woman to lead General Mills’ vaunted test kitchen.
Capello is focused and driven as Marjorie. She finds the character’s hunger and doubts in “Something More,” a song that changes meaning as it moves from the business work realm to love and partnership.