Nov. 4 (Bloomberg) -- Lynn Redgrave’s solo performance in “Nightingale,” which she also wrote, marks a triple triumph: For the woman, battling cancer for four years; for the actress, at her peak after four decades; and for the Redgrave clan, which hereby surpasses the mighty Barrymores as the royal family of stage and screen.

Essentially a tribute to her maternal grandmother, Beatrice “Beanie” Kempson, “Nightingale” encompasses a bunch of Redgraves, Lynn included. She is already a veteran of several family plays, notably the superb tribute to her dad, Michael Redgrave, “Shakespeare for My Father,” which this one very nearly equals.

The unsparing Fates have tried to beat Lynn down, without success. Not only has she had a large tumor removed, she also saw her 32-year marriage to her manager, John Clark, go bust when it was revealed that the single mother whom her son married was in fact the mom of John’s adulterously begotten daughter.

Further tragedy was the death in a skiing accident of her beloved niece, Natasha, sister Vanessa’s actress daughter. Add to this the blow of her current inability to move around much and having to perform “Nightingale” seated behind a desk with the open script upon it.

Indomitable Performer

Don’t for a moment think that any of this could halt her. Even were Redgrave confined up to her neck in a mound like Beckett’s Winnie toward the end of “Happy Days,” she could still reach, hold and move an audience to laughter and tears, and to exultation in the talent of an indomitable performer.

The show was inspired by inclement weather having all but effaced Grandma Beatrice’s name from her tombstone. Yet far more is restored to palpable life as it leaps gracefully back and forth in time, touching upon numerous Redgrave careers, including that of Uncle Robin, fallen in World War II.

Redgrave gives us facts, of course, while also filling in from her imagination, though never gratuitously. Clearly, she wasn’t present when at the luxurious Hotel George V, where, like a savvier sister before her, Grandma honeymooned in Paris with husband Eric. But Lynn conjures up in hilarious detail what happened when the Victorian maiden, kept ignorant about sex, was confronted with a loving yet awkward husband befuddled by her virginal naivete.

Redgrave gives us Beatrice’s innermost thoughts and trepidations and, by effectively lowering her voice several registers, the tactful but fumbling comments of her stymied spouse.

Unspoken Truths

She does two more admirable things here, not through commission, but rather through tactful omission. She never favors or magnifies her own story. Stage IV cancer (the peripatetic stage) is not even mentioned; her divorce, like anything else that might solicit facile pity, only modestly. And while fully engaging our emotions, she keeps them appropriate to a play rather than to a sob story.

“Nightingale” isn’t flawless. Redgrave packs too much into a 70-minute event as she gallantly hurdles barriers between decades. Insatiable, I would have welcomed even more saltation, especially about her beautiful and gifted mother, Rachel Kempson (with whom Redgrave deals in a couple of other solo shows).

Even so, despite good direction from Joseph Hardy and helpful lighting changes from Rui Rita, there were times when I found it hard to tell what decade it was.

But never mind. The show works, like the song of the eponymous and ubiquitous nightingale. Long may Redgrave sing out.

At Manhattan Theatre Club Stage 1, 131 W. 55th St. Information: +1-212-399-3050; http://www.mtc-nyc.org. Rating: ****

What the Stars Mean:
****       Do Not Miss
***        Excellent
**         Good
*          Poor
(No stars) Worthless

(John Simon is the New York drama critic for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this column: John Simon in New York at jis1925@aol.com.

Last Updated: November 3, 2009 22:30 EST