Steel Magnolias adaptation opens at Montreal theatre with intergenerational female cast
Fleurs d'acier, a Montreal production of the classic play, brings together women across ages in a hair salon setting to explore sorrow, support, and sisterhood.
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A hair salon with flowered wallpaper set in the 1980s becomes the stage for female communion and sorrow in Fleurs d'aciel, Montreal's new adaptation of Robert Harling's Steel Magnolias. The production, directed by Alain Zouvi and translated by Michel Tremblay, gathers women of different generations weekly to tend their hair and, more importantly, to hold each other through life's complications.
The ensemble includes Louise Deschâtelets as the widow of a mayor, Josée Beaulieu as the neighbourhood curmudgeon, Nathalie Mallette as the warm salon owner, Myriam Poirier as her candid protégée, Louise Cardinal as a controlling psychologist, and Flavie Bourgeois as her daughter Shirley. Shirley, on the verge of marriage when the play opens, becomes pregnant despite knowing the risk to her life — and dies from complications. The story orbits her mother's impossible attempt to protect her daughter from herself, and the friends who surround them both with complicated, steadfast love.
The production oscillates between sentiment and comedy, a balance that director Zouvi has demonstrated skill in handling — he directed the sprawling male ensemble cast of "12 Angry Men" (still running this summer) with notable deftness. Here, the first act occasionally tilts toward caricature, with some characters playing broad rather than nuanced. But in the second act, particularly as grief takes hold, the complexity deepens and the ensemble settles into more layered performances.
Nathalie Mallette stands out as the emotional centre of the group, radiating warmth and steadiness. Louise Deschâtelets dancing to Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" brings a vivifying lift to the evening. Despite their imperfections, the performances are animated by a genuine fervour that charms.
What emerges most clearly, beneath the tears and the laughter, is the sorrow of a mother losing her daughter, yes — but also the deep and sincere care these women hold for one another despite their differences and flaws. That sorrow and solidarity move the audience in ways that outlast the final curtain.
