When it comes to working with women, actress Mirirai Sithole has been very fortunate. From playwrights Jocelyn Bioh and Ngozi Anyanwu to the gals behind “Broad City” and “Russian Doll,” Sithole has collaborated with a stream of prolific, talented female creatives.
Her latest play, “If Pretty Hurts Ugly Must Be a Muhfucka,” written by Tori Sampson and directed by Leah C. Gardiner, is currently being staged at Playwright Horizons. It’s a modern fable about a group of young black women who battle Eurocentric beauty standards. Sithole plays Adama, a 17-year-old who gets caught up in a quarrel with her friends that goes very wrong.
Sithole’s other credits include play “The Death of the Last Black Man in the Whole Entire World,” “Broad City,” and most recently, “Russian Doll.” Last year she won the Lucille Lortel Award for Outstanding Featured Actress for “School Girls; Or, The African Mean Girls Play.”
We talked to Sithole about what it’s like to appear in two critically acclaimed plays in a row, her thoughts on the powerful themes in “If Pretty Hurts Ugly Must Be a Muhfucka,” and her reflections on inclusivity in the industry.
“If Pretty Hurts Ugly Must Be a Muhfucka” is playing at Playwright Horizons until March 31.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
W&H: What’s it like being a woman on the NYC stage today?
MS: I feel very grateful to have had the kind of run that I’ve had on the New York stage. I’ve been reflecting on that a lot, especially since I’ve mostly been surrounded by a majority of casts of color and women. I look at my own résumé and think it’s crazy and wild, and unfortunately, that level of diversity is crazy and wild. It is not the norm. Even though for me, it feels like the norm to some extent.
W&H: ….and as a woman in Hollywood?
MS: On screen, I also feel like I’ve had a very positive experience. The first TV gig I had was “Broad City,” and the fact that [creators and stars] Ilana [Glazer] and Abbi [Jacobson] are two women and are the executive producers, along with Amy Poehler. I joke that I owe half my career to Amy. She helped me with “Russian Doll” and was also a supporter of Jocelyn Bioh from “School Girls.” When I think about the issues that face our industry, I feel so fortunate to be in rooms that feel so inclusive and diverse. I recognize that it’s a feat, and I hope that inclusivity is normalized soon and that many more can experience rooms and sets in the way that I have.
W&H: You seem to be really walking your own path in terms of the work you choose. As a young actress, how are you choosing the kinds of roles you want to play?
MS: Whenever I reflect on my career or talk about it so far, it’s always based on the relationships that I’ve built pretty organically. That’s where I feel the most autonomy. I met Jocelyn doing a day job selling merchandise in the lobby at “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.” She had seen me on “Broad City”; I had seen her in “An Octoroon” at Soho Rep. We were both secretly fans of each other. That was a few years before “School Girls” was even a thing. Then I did a reading where Jocelyn was the play’s director, and we got a bunch of black women together and read the first draft. I was still pretty green and was so happy to be in the room with someone who had written a play.
Because of that relationship and continuing to say “yes” to Jocelyn and her play and her saying “yes” to me as an actor, it led to a role in “School Girls.” That’s very rare and when the offer came, it felt earned and right. The same thing goes for “Homecoming Queen” with Ngozi Anyanwu. We met through a friend I went to undergrad with and built a relationship from there. I said “yes” to readings and workshops and then the play got slotted at the Atlantic. That seemed to be the natural order of things.
W&H: How important is it to you to work with women of color?
MS: It isn’t the norm to have all this beautiful black art that’s happening, knowing that we aren’t the majority. The statistics were just released for inclusion on and off Broadway. It focused on the Asian American community and how strives were made, but not that much. It’s beautiful and also hard when you recognize that we have a lot of work to do. I seek and yearn for variety in my work. What’s beautiful about doing Tori’s play is that it’s Brechtian and there’s music, style, and Tori’s energy. It’s so unique in terms of consuming it, analyzing it, and being a part of it. It’s important to me to honor the playwright and the words in front of you.
W&H: Is that how “If Pretty Hurts?” came to you, as a result of your relationship with the playwright?
MS: “If Pretty Hurts” was the first time in a while where I auditioned for the role and had never done a workshop for the play. I knew Tori and had seen this play at Yale as part of the Carlotta Festival. Energetically, it seemed to match. Now having gone through that process, I feel so much closer to Tori, and I think I understand how her mind works. I look forward to collaborating with her in the future. In that sense, I feel like that’s how I “choose” projects — by surrounding myself with people I want to be in a room with 42 hours a week.
W&H: “If Pretty Hurts” has some very powerful themes about beauty, image, and self-worth. What are the messages you and the rest of the crew and cast want to convey to your audiences?
MS: In this iteration of talking about beauty, we’re talking about black women. I think there is a tendency to put our own experiences on top of this play in particular. It’s not that it’s a simple play, but we take what it is at face value. These are black people in a fictional place that reminds you of Africa or the diaspora, and also the Caribbean, and also America. We’re not talking about white people right now or European standards. We are just talking about how we do it in our own communities and how we all play a part in the uplifting or destruction of each other through these societal standards.
W&H: The role of Adama came to you very soon after “School Girls.” What was that experience like?
MS: I was struggling to connect with Adama at first. All the women in the play are extremely vulnerable at different points, mostly in their monologues. That’s what the auditions were, essentially just reading them and talking. The day after opening “School Girls” I had the callback for Adama and I just wasn’t thinking into her. I got the role a couple of weeks later and wondered if I was right for the role and if this was what I wanted to do.
W&H: Talk about how you came into the role and what it’s like to play her.
MS: Through rehearsals and since we opened, I have found so many similarities [between myself and] Adama. Playing her reminds me of how beautiful theater can be and how we find ourselves in a character and how a character finds us. There are many moments where people tell me, after seeing the show, that they connected with my character so much, especially about how we want to be, how we want to exist, how we don’t want to be revolutionary and an activist about absolutely everything. What if I just get to be a black woman and exist and be free-flowing and happy? We don’t need to walk around with assumed trauma.
It’s a tricky role in the sense that Adama wants to be on the outskirts of things but as the play says, she’s trapped in the narrative.