A legend may live on, but a fable has a lesson for us all. FABLE is a love song from Doug DeVita to the people who gave one of the greatest shows — musical or otherwise — and it teaches us is that even with harsh words, abuse, neglect, and self-doubt, there is a bond between them that is told in a way that touches us all. I loved remembering the story of “Gypsy,” but more, I felt like I finally knew the people that made it come to life.

June Havoc’s long distinguished career as a stage and screen actress was eclipsed by Baby June, the child vaudevillian portrayed in “Gypsy.” She fights to prevent that from happening and to be remembered on her own terms in this marvelous play. The personalities onstage are strong adversaries. The clever dialogue is sprinkled with a word here or there that reminds you of the musical, but after reading this I’ll never see “Gypsy” the same way again. I want to see a double-bill. “Fable” at a matinee, “Gypsy” in the evening. It’d be swell. It’d be great.

Fable is so gorgeously theatrical; I love the framing of the piece which mirrors the content so well. It’s a story of someone who is barely a footnote in theatre history, and that is a damn shame. It’s at turns hilarious and heartbreaking; the closing moments resonate deeply. This play features excellent roles for women over forty and presents exciting design opportunities.

How do you want to be remembered? The way you really were or how you’re portrayed in a Broadway musical about your more-famous-sister’s life?

You’d think it’d be a great problem to have!

June Havoc, respected character actress and sister to Gypsy Rose Lee, would disagree.

DeVita brilliantly frames her story like a dance marathon. Rousingly theatrical, the storybook atmosphere makes the details sting with truth… whether they’re true or not. FABLE is a fable about a fable about two very real lives. The dialogue sizzles, the drama soars, and these sisters brand your heart.

I’m so grateful that DeVita had the phone conversation with June Havoc and that he has given us a gift with his beautiful play Fable. Myth and truth and the grey area between the two are excellently represented in this touching biography of one sister’s request to be remembered more truthfully. And yet, as Rose states so well, truth doesn’t always sell tickets. But it does sell this gem of a play and what a treat that would be to see Gypsy: A Musical Fable and Fable on the same marquee for an extended run.

It is incredibly rare that a piece of media about ANOTHER piece of media ever comes close to the power of the original. While almost nothing can compete with the towering monolith that is Gypsy, Fable comes damn close – and in the effort, it presents us with a haunting rumination upon legacy, family, and the crumbling facade of celebrity. The added bonus here is that DeVita’s script is an absolute hoot, filled with metatheatrical mayhem, spot-on characterizations, and some of the finest behind-the-scenes tea spilling you’ll see. Highly recommended.

The real truth gets in the way of a good story. And that’s the truth.” So much amazing dialogue throughout DeVita’s epic, tour de force. The staging is also incredibly impressive, making creative use of actors and props with lighting, shadows and dance. Placards seamlessly move us from one location to the next and the story of these women is captivating and moving.

“None of us are gonna be remembered for who we really were, or who we thought we were. We’ll be lucky to be remembered at all.” Nothing about this play is forgettable.

This seven-character play soars and succeeds in its ambition to bring to the fore the sister of Gypsy Rose Lee, both sisters immortalised, for better or worse, in the musical Gypsy. Picking out real life facts, DeVita uses a dance marathon and vaudeville stage framework for this bitter sweet interrogation of the choices and compulsions when your lasting memorial is as a ‘character’ labelled ‘Baby June’ in somebody else’s show. Dynamic and insightful, drawing attention to its own theatricality, it manages to feel like a truthful portrayal and a rueful interrogation of show business and the nature and dangers of fiction.

Fable stands the test of context and exposition, in that anyone with a love of theater, movies, or fly-on-the-wall, backstage show biz would “get it” whether they’d ever heard of Gypsy or not. The trifecta? The play is a boon to audiences, actors, and creatives who should all delight in watching, playing, or staging this show. I particularly liked the device of rival sisters sharing the stage with a common figure, at different times and places, so we can watch each spin agendas, simultaneously. Kenneth Anger would be proud of the sophisticated, tabloid web that is woven. I can tell Mr. DeVita had as much fun writing it as I did reading it!

It takes confidence to write dialogue for iconic figures from theatre history like Merman, Robbins, and Laurents; DeVita pulls it off with grace and an insider’s savvy. The achievement here is that he corrects some of the musical’s misrepresentations of Havoc’s story while still celebrating its legendary power. All done with great ingenuity and economy; a cast of just seven manages to evoke the bustle and grandeur of 1959 Broadway.