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| Malcolm Ingram, Patricia Hodges, Richard Hollis, Emma Kaye & Nael Nacer in "Bedroom Farce" (photo: T. Charles Erickson) |
At
dead center stage for much of Alan Ayckbourn's comedy Bedroom
Farce, there stands a rather
haphazardly constructed dressing table teetering precariously on the
verge of complete collapse. It's a fairly potent physical metaphor
for the play itself, which depends on several precise theatrical
elements: perfect settings, intricate lighting cues, and above all,
split-second timing to hold up. Fortunately for the success of this
production by Huntington Theatre Company, it has all of that and
more. This work, strictly speaking and despite
the title, isn't truly a farce (with its typical very broad humor).
His nineteenth play out of about eighty or so, it debuted in 1975 in
Scarborough, England, moving in 1977 to London, and finding a home
in 1979 on Broadway. This, the first Ayckbourn work mounted by
Huntington Theatre in its thirty-five seasons, is the tale of a
highly strung couple over one Saturday evening in three bedrooms
occupied by three other couples. Ayckbourn slyly references
characters from his other plays (e.g. Absurd Person
Singular , where “Dick” and
“Lottie” are never seen), but his emphasis is on a small circle
of folks and how their lives interact on that fateful night.
Those three bedrooms belong to: the somewhat stodgily
conservative Ernest (Malcolm Ingram) and Delia (Patricia Hodges) who
have an anniversary dinner planned but are concerned about their son
Trevor (Karl Miller) and his wife Susannah (Katie Paxton); Jan
(Mahira Kakkar) and her husband Nick (Nael Nacer), who's
incapacitated and left in bed while she attends a housewarming party;
and Malcolm (Richard Hollis) and Kate (Emma Kaye), who are giving
the party. At this party, Trevor arrives alone, while Susannah comes
later, but in time to see old flames Trevor and Jan in a kiss. Jan
goes home to discover Nick has fallen out of bed, followed by Trevor
who confesses to Nick about the kiss. Meanwhile Malcolm and Kate
discuss their relationship while he assembles that infamous table.
Susannah, having discovered Trevor has slept at Jan's, flees to
Ernest and Delia to tell all. Trevor has also been to see Malcolm and
Katy and ended up accidentally destroying the table. All seems to
end well, but much of their respective traumas remain essentially
unresolved.
And that's just about all one can say about this work
without destroying its comic plot points, which depend on the
playwright's expertise with set-ups and surprises. There are also
quite a few visual gags and here and there a dollop of slapstick, but
the underlying theme of marital discord makes for a more involving
theatrical immersion. Much of this production is virtually
indescribable, such as the monumentally funny depiction of a
bed-ridden Nacer, who shows a knack for comic brilliance hitherto
under-appreciated by those of us so familiar with his countless
serious roles in our area. To hear him whine “Why me?” is an
unexpected pleasure, but then all of the cast are impeccably directed
by Maria Aitken (of 39 Steps fame), crucially matched by the
creative team, seldom as fine and on target as this production
boasts. The Costume Design by Robert Morgan perfectly captures the
various personalities of all eight players in a period notorious for
its outre fashion sense, and the seamless Lighting Design by
Matthew Richards provides an almost cinematic cascading flow, with an
assist from the Original Music and Sound Design by John Gromada. But
it's the Scenic Design by Alexander Dodge that proves most essential
to the antics at hand; the three widely-differing bedrooms reflect
the lives of their inhabitants, from the old-fashioned meticulously
faded glory of that of Ernest and Delia, to the work-in-progress
chaos of that of Malcolm and Kate, to the upwardly mobile au
courant pretentions of that of Nick and Jan (complete with a
conspicuous Albers hanging on their wall). Huntington is deservedly
renowned for its spectacular sets, and the work on display here by
Dodge rivals the best of them, including his own prior work for the
company for such productions as Present Laughter and The
Miracle of Naples.
Ayckbourn once spoke of the “power of three” as the
basic source of much good comedy, namely “do it once, they'll look
up; do it twice, you'll have their attention; do it a third time and
they're ready to laugh”. He viewed this play as having some
farcical elements, but more of a “slow, quiet farce” as opposed
to the “louder, faster, broader” method so often employed when
mounting a true farce. What's missing in this work is the rapier wit
he would bring to later plays which skewer the British class system.
Bedroom Farce, generally regarded as his “sunniest play”,
might disappoint some who are more familiar with his body of work
written later in his prolific career, when he developed a more
vitriolic style. When one is gifted with a wonderful cast and
creative team such as this production offers, it's cause for
rejoicing even in the midst of our current national sense of loss.
And it's easy to see why the playwright was justly awarded a Lifetime
Achievement Tony Award (in 2010) for his incredible output. Farce or
not, and while not the playwright's best work, this is a quiet gem,
but a gem nonetheless.
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