Photo Caption: Kecia Lewis and Cast Photo by Angela Marie Orellana

You might call this the theatrical version of a tribute concert, in which Goldberg's 1984 one-person show has been turned into a series of five separate scenes, each of which is performed by a different actress. Obviously, something is lost by dividing things up in this way, but something is gained as well in the 100-minute intermissionless production that very wisely bookends the program with sublime performances by a pair of Tony Award winners, Kara Young and Kecia Lewis.

First up, meet Fontaine, the self-identified thief and a junkie-with-a-PhD. As portrayed by Young, whose braided hair recalls Goldberg's own unmistakable look, Fontaine is both compelling and unsettling, sizing us up while roaming the stage singing to no one in particular: "Around the world in 80 motherfucking days." Presenting as an in-your-face street person who craves an audience, Fontaine insists that we participate in a call-and-response in order to make sure of our attention before launching into a story involving a trip to Amsterdam and a disturbing visit to the Anne Frank house. It's quite a rambling performance overall, but Young, like Fontaine, knows how to grab hold of an audience and never let go.

The character of Fontaine is perhaps Goldberg's most iconic creation. But you also are unlikely to forget Kecia Lewis' show-closing Lurleen, who enters wearing a colorful pants outfit and snapping open a hand-held fan of the sort in widespread use in the production of Cats: The Jellicle Ball, whose Tony-winning costume designer Qween Jean dresses the cast here. But Lurleen (the character was first introduced in the 2004 Broadway revival of the show) is not practicing for a ballroom appearance. She's in the throes of a menopausal hot flash, and she is not a happy camper.

Over the course of her monologue, Lewis's Lurleen walks us through the world in which she grew up, starting with puberty and covering such topics as the large range of menstrual products she had to deal with, girdles, roll-up stockings, birth control methods, vaginal waxing, and the general aging of the "pudenda." You may laugh and/or wince at some of the descriptions, but Lewis gives us a master class in a performance that soars.

The other three talented actresses in the cast are left to deal with simpler tales, which they deliver with style and aplomb despite the slimness of the material, sort of mini-stories with punchy endings as opposed to the novellas that Young and Lewis get to more fully sink their teeth into.

Kerry Washington, who conceived of this production and worked with director Whitney White to bring it to fruition, is "Surfer Girl," a dreamy, very young woman who is bravely dealing with a horrific situation, one that leaves us fearing for her future. Dominique Fishback is "Blonde Girl," a Black tween who, like Pecola in Toni Morrison's novel "The Bluest Eye," dreams of what her life would be like if she were white. The fifth monologue is called "Jamaican Lady," a story with a fairy-tale ending performed by a vivacious Danielle Pinnock as an immigrant caregiver to an elderly man she refers to as "The Old Raisin," owing to his wrinkled skin.

While The Whoopi Monologues occasionally feels dated, the collection is at least as enjoyable as listening to the still-in-print recording of Goldberg's act. The scenic design by Studio Bent and the video design by Hana S. Kim provide nice backdrops for the overall production. And there can be no competition for the enjoyment of seeing these five fine actresses taking on the roles in person and making them their own.