Aaron Costa Ganis and Elizabeth McGovern Photo by Jeff Lorch

McGovern's adaptation is based on the book by Peter Evans and Gardner herself, which went unpublished–at Gardner's insistence–for twenty-five years after the series of interviews that formed its foundation. It dramatizes these interviews, which were conducted in the 1980s, not long before her death, traveling from Evans' initial reluctance to take the ghost-writing gig on artistic grounds through the fractious entanglement between the two, and proceeding to the complicated end of the collaboration.

From the beginning, even though both are ostensibly into the project solely for the money, the two clash over where to begin, what to include, and whether truth matters at all to the endeavor. And, thanks to pressure delivered via Evans' agent Ed, even the matter of who the subject of the book is emerges as an open question. For her part, Gardner wants to begin with what is relevant to her as she ages and has a real financial need to produce an autobiography. She wants to start with the difficulties of and humor inherent in her struggles after having suffered a stroke. She wants to resist long-standing narratives about her rise from poverty, and above all, she wants to control the spin of the story and not destroy herself in the process of retelling it.

In addition to the direct monetary incentive, Evans initially sees the project as a means to regain his agent's attention, enabling him to pursue the novel that he's long been trying to make a start on. But after a brief moment where the plot of that proposed novel and Ava's actual story intersect, he becomes consumed by the disconnect between the narrative Hollywood wants and the complexities of Gardner's version of her own life. Present and past–as well as fact and fiction–blend, and the actor playing Evans slips into the personae of Gardner's famous husbands, Mickey Rooney, Artie Shaw, and Frank Sinatra.

This conceit works very well when the text is sufficiently clear, but the play doesn't always hit this bar. The Evans character's foray into Mickey Rooney is relatively brief and signaled effectively by various design elements. The lapse into Shaw and Sinatra is sometimes not as clear as it needs to be. In some instances, this seems deliberate, as Evans is losing himself in the story. In other moments, though, it is not clear whether, for example, the actor's slips with Evans' British accent and the various American dialects of the men in Ava's life are intentional or a momentary stumble. More substantively, the play has not obviously decided whether or not Evans has fallen for Ava and, if so, if this is a deliberate trap one her part. It's not necessary to spell this out entirely, but more specificity would have avoided some bumps in the road.

Whatever the minor shortcomings of the adaptation, the production is very well done. David Meyer's scenic design creates Gardner's London flat in rich cream tones, and the furnishings and elaborate mural over the bed are just the right amount of over the top and slightly out of time. The design is well-suited to visually conveying that the past is gradually encroaching, literally pushing furniture pieces to the edge of the crowded frame of the stage. And when the project comes apart, so do the pieces of the set, revealing the crew and the backstage bustle, effectively disorienting the audience right along with Evans.

The projections by Alex Basco Koch splash Hollywood neon, lurid headlines, and a barrage of images, some flattering and some decidedly not, across these walls. The tension between the snippets of story the audience can read and the version playing out on the stage is productive and contributes to the show's brisk pace and sense of momentum. The lighting by Amith Chandrashaker and sound design by Cricket S. Myers, particularly as the balance between present and past tips toward the latter, also make important contributions to the show feel like a single story, rather than a series of flashbacks or vignettes.

Finally, Toni-Leslie James' costumes are both gorgeous to look at and an important part of the storytelling. Using a coat rack at stage right, Evans simply adds or subtracts a vest, a jacket, or a raincoat from his basic costume, whereas Gardner begins in a track suit that is almost shocking in contrast to her mannered demeanor, and throughout the course of the play, slips into vibrant, elegant loungewear, then pencil skirts and blouses designed to show off her figure, ultimately ending in a glittering black and hot pink cocktail dress.

As Ava Gardner, McGovern clearly has had plenty of material to study to inform her rendition of the actress throughout the course of her career. Her line delivery and her physicality do well in capturing the fact that Gardner almost certainly would have been so used to performing a public persona that it would have been difficult to shake off, particularly in the context of preparing to tell her life story to a ghost writer. But McGovern also intelligently chooses the moments in which she lets the mask slip, both in the "real" present with Evans and in the imagined past with Evans as Rooney, Shaw, or Sinatra. The one area in which the performance doesn't quite land is when she needs to capture the very young Ava, just arrived in Hollywood, who finds herself on the receiving end of Rooney's apparently legendary sexual energy. Here, the North Carolina accent and the rapid clip of the dialogue don't quite allow the space for this aspect of the character to develop convincingly.

Aaron Costa Ganis turns in a truly impressive performance opposite McGovern as Peter Evans. He is unafraid to let Evans be insufferable and unlikeable as the thwarted novelist who resents the ghostwriting project, yet easily slips back into the calculating, manipulative approaches he mastered earlier in his career as a journalist. And that fearlessness is repaid as Evans' fascination with Gardner grows alongside the audience's. He is ultimately sympathetic, yet always productively infuriating. The climactic argument between Gardner and Evans, where present understandings of exploitation and abuse clash with questions of agency and the right to interpret and work through one's own past is effective and affecting, thanks to the performances and the rapport between the actors.

Costa Ganis receives an important assist from Michael Bakkensen as the voice of Ed, Evans' agent. Because Ed insists on constantly saying the quiet part out loud, Costa Ganis is able to gradually cede that Hollywood territory to this unseen force as Evans becomes genuinely wrapped up in the story.

Ava: The Secret Conversations runs through October 12, 2025, at the Studebaker Theater, Fine Arts Building, 410 S. Michigan Avenue Chicago IL. For tickets, please visit www.AvaGardnerPlay.com.