Absurd Person Singular: Fast Paced, Well Acted and Viciously Funny. A Winner

Absurd Person Singular: Fast Paced, Well Acted and Viciously Funny. A Winner

APA_TAP_021_2013-02-28_15-52-22

Photo: Andrew Alexander

From top to bottom:

The Brewster-Wrights

The Jacksons

The Hopcrofts

Alan Ayckbourn, the master of  British Farce, has certainly inherited the gifts of  playwright Georges Feydeau who dominated the French theatre of the middle and upper classes at the turn of the century with his particular  form of farce.  As the doors slam, the dialogue bristles, split-second timing reigns and the characters enter and exit with the impeccable speed of a well-oiled machine, there is always a social commentary hidden somewhere in this mass of wound up humanity. However, contrary to Feydeau’s farces, this one cares less about who is sleeping with whom, although that does enter into the picture in a most class conscious moment where the “bit on the side” becomes a sign of upper class mobility  that excludes the tradesman and his “vulgar” ways. 

More important however, is the question of class conflict, class mobility and effects of the economy on all those values. John P. Kelly’s wild and woolly but beautifully orchestrated free for all at the Gladstone has plucked out the essential conflicts and set them up in David Whiteley’s fine, functional , solidly constructed and beautifully decorated set, built to withstand the slamming, pushing and mistreatment that the action calls for.

Three couples, connected for various reasons, none of which have anything to do with friendship, meet in one of the couples’ houses on three consecutive Christmas Eves and the results are both funny and disturbing. The perfectly symmetrical construction of this well-made play helps the audience follow the transformations that are the focal point of the action. Act I they all meet in the house of the Hopcrofts (Jane and Sydney). Act II takes place the following Christmas in the house of the Jacksons (Eva and Geoffry). Act III plays out in the house of the Brewster-Wrights (Ronald and Marion) . Each scene is performed on the same kitchen set, transformed by matching colours and a bevy of meaningful props, such as a dirty oven, a broken light, a blocked drain, a new washing machine, a smart arm chair and a Victorian boiler that doesn’t work. And, each scene works around a preferred door which is a very clever bit of staging.

In each act, the Christmas party with all the invited guests takes place off stage whereas the real action takes place away from the party, in the kitchen. As privileged voyeurs, we observe, the slow disintegration of the upper class and the rise of the working class in a narrative that has decidedly revolutionary undertones.

Stewart Matthews, as the obsessively ambitious social climbing and very upwardly mobile tradesman, Sydney, darts around the stage as though he has a stick of dynamite about to explode in his pants. This first act sets in place the class- based relations among the three couples, showing us that Ronald (Tom Charlebois) is the banker who will lend working-class Sydney the money to buy more property, thus contributing to the upward movement of this annoying upstart. Ronald’s wife Marion pretends to be charmed by the new Hopcroft kitchen, but the falseness of her words rings clearly through her  paternalistically sing-song intonation, betraying her deep seated disdain for this boring kitchen which, paradoxically, will soon become hers in act III. The sounds of language became an extremely important way of creating meaning in this production and they mostly got it! In act II we also meet Geoffry the other professional, an architect whose reputation is in tatters, and Eva, his deeply disturbed wife who pops pills s to keep herself on the right track.

As the Christmas Eve’s advance, each of the couple’s secrets is brought into the open and it is soon obvious what a cruel, nasty bunch they really are. Thus, Ayckbourn sets up a well-organized overthrow of the social structure, done as a carnavalesque reversal of the way things usually operate in this society. In the final moments, the clown-like Hopcrofts become the controlling puppeteers who make all the wildly gyrating fallen puppets of the social upper crust, dance to the music brought in by these upstarts who clearly dont know their place in society! . The Hopcrofts now have the power, the carnival closes the circle and the author’s revenge is complete. Anna Lewis’ smashing costume designs created all the important effects that heightened the dramatic moments of a play that has a lot more depth than one might suspect from a farce. But then, there is nothing typical about Ayckbourn’s theatre.

Act II, was no doubt the most difficult moment to orchestrate of the evening, as each of the characters is obsessively preoccupied by a personal problem in the kitchen, while they all ignore Eva in their midst. She never utters a word, because she is too busy trying to do away with herself. Keeping our attention pinned on Eva who never speaks, while five other actors are upstaging her with the funniest of antics, is a real feat and this director pulled it off beautifully, with the help of David Magladry’s well timed lighting effects. The selfish indifference of all those around her was fore grounded. The orchestration became more and more frantic as this sextet of characters finally imploded into a heap of ugly but funny humanity.  At that moment, we understood that class conflict was no longer the central question.  They were just despicable individuals who deserved to be humiliated and this angry critique of British society did the trick. . Just how many writers could pull off a scene of attempted suicide and make it appear riotously funny. If the idea bothers you, you have to see Kelly and his cast at work to understand how it is possible.

Director Kelly turned the performance into a solid ensemble piece, keeping the strings ever so tight on the actors so they would not overdo the fun. This was especially important for Stewart Matthews, the actor who might have taken off with the play like a rocket ship. It didn’t happen thank goodness and what we saw was a brilliant actor who found his niche and stole the show. There is his impeccable accent, which runs in the family I’m told, his perfect sense of comic timing, his facial mimic, and his comic instincts and exquisitely uncultured physical attitudes that hit the mark most wonderfully and added a whole repertory of expressions and body language that made us feel the upper crust cringing before this vulgar, blustery creature from another social world. Melanie Karin was the long suffering wife, obsessed with wiping clean all exposed surfaces, excruciatingly uptight about appearances. As Matthews’ counterpart, she modulated her own voice as though it were a finely tuned instrument and was able to use it as an important and riotously funny part of her own character. The depressive Eva, played by Michelle LeBlanc was extremely believable and just as powerful when she didn’t say a word as when she did. Her killer gaze said it all, even when she was in a half coma or a drunken stupor. Tom Charlebois kept his dignity as the humiliated Ronald who, nevertheless climbed up on the table to fix a light bulb and created a delicious moment of subtle comedy with a screw-driver. He never forgot his station in life in spite of his wining, nagging, alcoholic wife played to the nasty hilt by Lori Jean Hodge.

David Whiteley had some difficulty keeping his accent believable but he was well cast as the architect whose career was falling apart and became even more convincing as the arrogant, self-assured, womanizing husband, the character at the bottom of the moral heap! No one escapes this scathing portrait and John P. Kelly kept the pace running beautifully,  pinpointing the highlights and most meaningful moments of the play. His  madcap orchestration, along with Stewart Matthews’ performance as the working class clown and his desire to become one of the boys, are all  worth the price of the ticket. You have to see it to believe it. Don’t miss Absurd Person Singular.

Absurd Person Singular by Alan Ayckbourn

Directed by John P. Kelly

Set: David Whiteley

Lighting: David Magladry

Sound: Steven Lafond

Costumes:Anna Lewis

Props: Jen Hogan

A SevenThirty Production at the Gladstone Theatre playing March 6 to 23. Call 613-233-4523

CAST:

Jane Hopcroft Melanie Karin

Sidney Hopcroft Stewart Matthews

Ronald Brewster-Wright Tom Charlebois

Marion Brewster-Wright Lori Jean Hodge

Eva Jackson Michelle LeBlanc

Geoffrey Jackson David Whiteley

Dick Potter Brian M. Carroll

Lottie Potter Ashley Proulx

One Reply to “Absurd Person Singular: Fast Paced, Well Acted and Viciously Funny. A Winner”

Comments are closed.