Hollywood is full of iconic love stories but none is quite as brilliantly weird and tragically sweet as the romance between Gene Wilder and Gilda Radner, two comedy legends who fell madly in love somewhere between a silly goof and a punch line. And it is hard to think of somebody wanting to put their love story on stage because of its tragic ending, but Cary Gitter’s Gene & Gilda, a play produced by Penguin Rep Theatre which opened last night at 59E59 Theaters, successfully balances humor with grief, humanizing both Gene and Gilda beyond their public personas.

Directed by Joe Brancato, it uses a live interview format as a framing device to explore Gene Wilder’s personal relationship with Gilda Radner, and to dramatize his inner conflict between privacy and vulnerability. In this metatheatrical interview, taking place on a single set (the interview stage) with the implication of a live audience, an unseen host’s voice asks Gene (Jonathan Randell Silver) personal questions about his relationship with Gilda.

Silver brings the character’s shy and reserved nature to life with authenticity, publicly charming but privately anxious. The voice of the off-stage host gives the effect of Gene being alone and under scrutiny, isolating him emotionally. Initially, he refuses to talk about Gilda, “It’s too hard. Too soon,” clearly still grieving and emotionally raw, but her sudden appearance forces him to confront what he has avoided, all the pain, love, and the complexity of their relationship. The introduction of Gilda (Jordan Kai Burnett) transforms the realism of the interview into something more surreal or ghostly, evoking her as a memory, a spirit, or a hallucination.

Gene discusses the audience’s expectations of him as one or all his characters and insists, “I’m just Gene,” underlining the disjunction between his public image and private self. Gilda’s playful, bold entrance contrasts his hesitation, and Burnett channels Gilda so convincingly, the two could have been mistaken for twins. She wants their story told: “Let’s tell ’em our story, once and for all.” Her presence helps Gene lower his defenses; she becomes his emotional guide through the pain, radiating charm, chaotic energy, and intellect.

The scenes alternate between present-day narration/interview and past flashback, with fluid, theatrical transitions, and their dialogue sparkles with classic romantic screwball rhythm. Gene occasionally steps out of the memory to reflect in real time, showing his emotional growth or discomfort in remembering. When they work together on a film, Gilda often rewrites scenes, an act of creative rebellion but also a challenge to the hierarchy of a male-dominated film set. Gene reacts defensively, not out of ego alone, but because he’s caught off guard by her audacity and talent; Gilda forces Gene out of his comfort zone, both creatively and emotionally.

Christian Fleming’s set is minimal yet purposeful. In the background, a wall of synchronized video screens acts as a digital canvas, projecting memories and emotions (original artwork by Corinne Antonelli). The foreground is kept simple, just a white sofa with two armchairs, an interview chair on the side, and a few essential props. Gregory Gale’s costumes, instead, add vivid details: Gilda is styled for action, with a voluminous 1980s hairdo and a gingham-checkered top, perfectly matched with wide-leg black trousers that allow Burnett to move easily across the set. She changes into two additional tops that also reflect the era. Gene, by contrast, has the look of a slightly disheveled professor with blue blazer, pale blue shirt, tie, and dockers. Together, they form the ideal odd couple for a quirky ’80s romcom.

Jose Santiago’s lighting and Max Silverman’s original music & sound help the time lapses and the transitions between broad slapstick and subtle vulnerability, especially in the final third of the play, which deals with Gilda’s illness and death. It is particularly affecting but it is handled with restraint and grace rather than sentimentality. As I left the theater and stepped into the sweltering New York subway, I found myself searching for the right words to describe it: a poignant meditation on loss, love, and the bravery of remembering — or a witty, tender, and unmistakably human dramedy? I guess both.

photos by Carol Rosegg

Gene & Gilda
59E59 Theatre, 59 East 59th St. between Madison and Park
ends on September 7, 2025
for tickets ($60-$80 w/o fee), call 646.892.7999 or visit 59E59