"Bedroom Farce"

Theatre review
"Bedroom Farce" at the Cornell University Schwartz Center
Ithaca Times
October 24, 2007
740 words

"In the Bedroom"

full text here

In the bedroom
By: Mark Tedeschi
10/24/2007

Bedroom Farce by Alan Ayckbourn. Directed by Stephen R. Cole. Scenic design by E.D. Intemann. Costumes by Lisa Boquist. With Jeffrey Guiton, Kathleen Mary Mulligan, Ian Harkins, Akilah Terry, Jon Delikat, Katie Lane, Ian Jones, and Alex Viola. Cornell University Schwartz Center Oct. 17-21, 24-28.

Playwright Alan Ayckbourn has found a niche, and his prolific catalogue of work proves it. He experiments with sophisticated innovations on what's normally considered conventional, yet he and his work remain consistently popular and well-received. The subject matter of his plays usually deal with domestic couples comedy, and he's tackled farce enough to take even its conventions for a spin - and that's exactly what he did with Bedroom Farce, Cornell University's latest production at the Schwartz Center for the Performing Arts.

Ayckbourn wrote the Tony-nominated comedy in 1975, and had come up with the title long before he penned the actual story. He wanted to toy with the notions of a typical bedroom farce, a genre wherein, basically, couples sleep with each other amid increasingly loonier situations. Ayckbourn decided to avoid that sort of predictable bedroom behavior, "namely sexual activity and sleeping," in his version.

The original production was written for a much larger venue than Ayckbourn was used to, so he found it a suitable opportunity for the three-way-split set of his "Bedroom Farce" project. Cornell's production, funny but at times misguided, features an equally intelligent set design: three adjacent bedrooms, shifted diagonally just enough so that each room's inhabitants are invisible to the neighbors. The lighting (design by Ford Sellers) is appropriately modest, with scene-to-scene switch cues executed just right.

The characters are certainly Ayckbournian: Ernest (Guyton), the absentminded husband of Delia (Mulligan); their son Trevor (Jones) and his wife Susannah (Viola), a couple who wreak havoc in every bedroom, none of which are their own; Trevor's ex, Jan (Terry) and her whiny bedridden husband Nick (Harkins); and the normal-seeming couple Malcolm (Delikat) and Kate (Lane). The acting is sound; my only quibbles are with Harkins's and Viola's mugging in certain scenes and Terry's inconsistent accent.

Ernest and Delia reside in a bedroom with lace curtains and decorative pillows. At first, they seem more like mutual acquaintances than husband and wife, but the caring in their relationship surfaces when Ernest fishes through the house to find his "peckish"-feeling wife some sardines and toast, a snack that they share in bed.

Across the stage, Jan dotes on Nick, who moans and groans for attention, crying that his back is in debilitating agony. Harkins, laying down for the entire show, gives his accent a good tinge of whine ("I cannot move at all ever again!") and plays physical comedy well, though his position leaves little room for variety. Jan and Nick live in a room with newer-looking decor, and it looks like a kid's room - fitting for Nick's immature behavior.

Meanwhile, Malcolm and Kate prepare for a housewarming party at their place, still in a state of disrepair. They chase each other around, playful and apparently happy. He expects chaos upon hearing she's invited Trevor, Susannah, and Jan; it's not giving anything away to say that his worst fears come true.

Trevor and Susannah arrive separately (they've been arguing) and waste no time before accosting their hosts (and, eventually, each other). Susannah admits to Kate that she's been attracted to women and asks her, "Isn't that terrifying?" Kate answers, truly scared, "Yes!"

The frigidity between Trevor and Susannah is a strength; they act differently with each other than with others, and their anxiety crescendoes. The fuss of their ensuing (well-choreographed) fight scenes is enough to drive out the rest of the guests. The two separate again and make rounds to everyone's room, inciting discord between each couple. For example, Kate later has a conversation with Malcolm about spicing things up between the sheets; when asked if she gets bored, she reassures him, "No! ...Not often."

Unfortunately, at least in this production, Ayckbourn's choice to consciously subvert conventions turns into a weakness rather than a strength.In the end, the deletion of some expected elements in Bedroom Farce leaves a feeling of emptiness: The couples talk about sex, but what's clearly a bedroom issue between some of them (particularly Ernest/Delia and Malcolm/Kate) remains unresolved. Jan never addresses Nick's despicably needy nature as a husband. And with Trevor's uncontrollable violent side and Susannah's unfamiliar curiosities, just how okay can we expect them to be?

As the second act progresses and the hour gets later, it's clear that the characters want the night to end so they can get some sleep. Even watching Ayckbourn's skilled writing in action, when the audience begins feeling that unrest, a bed sounds just about perfect.

"Hedda Gabler"

Theatre review
"Hedda Gabler" at Ithaca College
The Ithaca Journal
October 9, 2007
649 words

"IC Theater captured the relevancy of ‘Hedda Gabler'"

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IC Theater captured the relevancy of ‘Hedda Gabler'
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to The Journal

The main stage schedule at Ithaca College this year features a wide spectrum of work and “Hedda Gabler,” a classic by the hugely influential Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen, is an ambitious choice to kick off IC's ambitious run of shows. The talent shown across the board in “Hedda” seems like good indication of a memorable upcoming season.

“Hedda” takes places in a Norwegian villa in the late 1800s. The societal stresses placed on the title character allow for different interpretations of her motives; consequently, she's had countless distinct historical depictions. In this production, directed by Jeffrey Tangeman, senior Corinne Proctor played her as a busy but jaded woman with a potential for the sinister that's either a chosen counterbalance to society's fixed and overbearing expectations or an inborn trait that forces her to work against the grain. Her actions and their questionable motivations have made Hedda a historically fascinating character.

Hedda's popularity as a character needn't detract attention from the others, nor the adept group portraying them: There's Jorgen Tesman (Alex Krasser), Hedda's scatterbrained but well-meaning husband who provides occasional comic relief; Judge Brack (Gary Howell), a smooth-talking acquaintance who is the only one that sees through Hedda and confronts her for her misgivings; Thea Elvsted (Erin M. Callahan), Hedda's old target for bullying in school; Eljert Lovborg (Marcin Pawlikiewicz), Tesman's academic contemporary; and Julle Tesman (Dani Stoller), Jorgen's kind aunt.

In the first scene with both Tesman and Hedda, one would never guess they were husband and wife. Hedda married him for financial reasons — one of the many causes for her pessimistic outlook on life — not for love, as Tesman believes. Lovborg tells them both about his latest project, a groundbreaking manuscript about a new theory of history that was largely inspired, he says, by Elvsted. Jealousy distracts Tesman while Hedda flirts with the other men and reveals periodic hints about her rich and complicated back story. The men trek out to a party; later, the manuscript finds itself into the wrong hands while Hedda can't help but take out her frustrations out on Elvsted once again.

Andrew Upton's adaptation included frequent conversation interruptions that kept the pace quicker than it would have been in Ibsen's day; unfortunately, the disjointed dialogue sometimes made it sound as if the actors were struggling with timing — but judging by the strength of their embodiment of the characters, that was not the case. And in addition to the plethora of dashes, the text is filled with intense, beautiful language and perceptive, if harsh, observations — Hedda declares, “Love is how we sweeten obligation.”

The lighting, sound, and set designers worked closely together to explore Hedda's torment. Laura Krassowski's superb lighting design featured very slow, subtle changes, italicizing the drama in certain scenes. The sound design by Mary Elizabeth Barnes used somber string arrangements and overlapping sound bites from all characters to give a small glimpse of the hectic busyness inside Hedda's mind.

Alexander Woodward's set, almost completely grey, contained only a wood-burning stove, two tables, a sofa, and a piano — but that was not what you noticed first. Modern magazine advertisements attached to the floor surrounded the set on all sides. They were the only anachronistic flourishes in the show, and they popped up again later in a masterfully executed climax. The juxtaposition of Hedda's drab furniture and the colorful pizzaz of enticing ads reminded us that social pressures can exist in myriad forms.

Even Hedda's riskier actions were no match for the unrelenting monster of societal expectations. “I can do what I want,” she asserts repeatedly, as if a mantra. She's right, but as it still stands today, one must be ready for consequences.

That's the source of an air of depressing inevitability throughout “Hedda Gabler”: the universal, inescapable forces of society to which, at some point or another, we all fall victim. IC theatre captured the relevancy of Hedda's oft-discussed plight.

“Hedda Gabbler” ran through Oct. 7. IC Theatre's next play is “The Full Monty,” previewing Oct. 30 and running Nov. 1-10. Visit www.ithaca.edu/theatre for more information.