Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf: slickly handled ribaldry
Edward Albee is one of my heroes. His dialogue is heightened, verging on the poetic, but maintains a ring of naturalistic authenticity to it.
His language is so fluid that actors can ride the words and never have to declaim them with artificial theatricality (although that doesn’t always stop them). Thematically, he takes heightened situations – often verging on Greek drama in their pure intensity – and places them within naturalistic, familiar settings (especially if you hail from New England).
Strangely then, his most celebrated – or at least best known – play leaves me cold. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? – currently on view in Blackbird’s slick production at the Cultch – contains all the above elements but for some reason it always feels thematically forced to me as does the basic set up: middle-aged history professor married to aspiring trophy wife (named George and Martha – you know like the Washingtons, get it?) hosts young chemistry professor and his cute, wealthy airhead of a wife for after-party drinks and fun. The young couple, Nick and Honey, show up at something like two in the morning and this all seems unlikely at first until the sexual energy/politics between Martha and the chemistry professor give us a clue as to why anyone in their right minds would have a) accepted the invitation and b) stayed in such an uncomfortable environment. Much is made of Nick being a chemist and therefore representing the future while George is a historian and stuck in the past. Both couples have parallel experiences with children. It’s all just a little too neat. It is also a story that takes a little too long to get where it’s going.
But still, this is Edward Albee and where he really shines is the first act (called “Fun and Games”, each act is given a slightly blown, self-important title which rings of late 50’s / early 60’s sense of the importance of Art). The writing in this section is simply dazzling as George and Martha effortlessly out duel Shakespeare’s Beatrice and Benedick as the cleverest, nasty bickering middle ageds you’ve ever seen. With the introduction of a bewildered Nick and Honey the arguing – really a bizarre form of love-making – is kicked up an extra notch. Unfortunately, after this stunning introduction, the play represents a diminishing return on an audience’s investment.
While the sexual tryst between Nick and Martha – and George’s performance of disinterested reaction – bump up the stakes and the danger levels, the transgression and its impact are never fully explored in part because of the giddy, elliptical manner of Albee’s writing (which, it has to be said, effectively replicates the nature of drunken discourse). The final act kicks off with a long monologue from Martha, followed by a protracted and not always satisfying reveal about the nature of the games that George and Martha play in private and the depths of their emotional bonds.
Albee’s lack of focus on the failed sex act is only one of the elements that makes Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? a troublesome play to produce. There are strange narrative switch-backs and unexpected displays of behaviour (most notably, George smashing a bottle and singing “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” to the tune of Big Bad Woolf) through to a final spoken duet between the middle-aged couple, which despite being beautifully written never seems to work on stage the way I imagine Albee intended.
Having said all that, Blackbird’s production is handsome and intelligent and navigates the tricky shortcomings of the piece with skill. Its core strength ultimately rests on a strong cast, marshaled under John Wright’s direction. Kevin McNulty as George gives one of those rare and exhilarating performances where performer and text are perfectly matched. McNulty is so at ease with the language, the character and simply being on stage that you feel like you’re truly getting a glimpse of someone in their home. Gabrielle Rose as Martha is a little less successful for my taste. As a performer, Rose has a tendency to nibble at the scenery and while she kept this under control for the spectacular jousting in the first act she progressively slips as the evening wears on, especially during the monologue that opens Act 3. Perhaps it was a slightly off night but her performance felt slightly mannered to me as if I could see a talented performer switch gears rather than live the role.
This didn’t affect the overall production except in one vital respect: there was no palpable sexual tension between Gabrielle Rose and Craig Erickson who plays Nick. I think this energy is vital to fuel the machinery of the piece and to explain why the hell Nick and Honey stay when most sensible people would have got the hell out of there. For his part, Erickson is a real revelation for me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him give such a subtle and nuanced performance. His discomfort at the beginning and then the slight power shifts with George and Martha are handled gracefully and pitched just right. When Martha shows a moment of sympathy for him for his failure in the sack, his relief felt very real and touching. Meg Roe as Honey, the giggling, out of her depth dimwit, has the least material to work with but Roe nails her character flawlessly. I’ve met people just like Roe’s Honey and while I think it would be easy for an actor to stumble into annoying tropes with this character, Roe gives Honey bubbly energy that is delightful and not without some steel when she challenges her hubby on occasion.
The set by Marti Wright is as naturalistic and handsome as the production. It certainly looks like the study of a professor in New England in 1962 and I wouldn’t mind moving in (as long as those two bickering fruitcakes weren’t present). The only real reaction I had to set was that it left me wondering whether this play wouldn’t be better served by being performed in a non-naturalistic setting. There is something deeply weird about this play and I wonder if its psychological eccentricities wouldn’t suit a black box environment better where we can see the whole thing as some sort of psychological experiment. This thought then led me onto what is perhaps not an original idea. Perhaps Nick and Honey are not really there at all but simply extensions of the games that George and Martha play.
Blackbird has been around for a few years now, producing work from the world theatre canon. They have achieved a level of consistency that other companies with far more resources at their disposal would be (rather should be) envious of. I believe Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf might be the most modern text they’ve undertaken so far and like the past productions I’ve seen, it is intelligent and slick. It is refreshing to see great theatre treated with honour and respect. In my own strange way, I think of going to theatre as a religious act. I like the way Blackbird worships. Count me among the faithful.
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf continues at the Historic Theatre at the Cultch until Jan 16. For more information, stumble drunkenly here.