In the Next Room or The Vibrator Play. A play that liberates us all!
Photo Andrew Alexander
From left to right: Michelle LeBlanc, Sarah Finn, David Frisch, Robin Toller, Sascha Cole, Dilys Ayafor. In the foreground, David Whitely as Dr. Givings
Sarah Ruhl’s naughty little contemporary comedy takes place in the early 1890s. It is centred on that highly controversial illness called “hysteria” which eventually became a way of defining sexual dysfunction specifically related to women in the sexually repressed Victorian era. The creation of a new-fangled apparatus called the Vibrator , thanks to the discovery of electricity, was thought to offer the most effective cure by massaging those sensitive female parts to the point of causing the “paroxysm” which was supposed to release all the pent -up fluids that were causing the inner strangling of the body. A bit later. Freud’s research linked hysteria to the subconscious and the way the body somatised the symptoms related to repression, such things as headaches, dizziness, paralysis and all sorts of illnesses , according to the doctors, that could be relieved by using the vibrator.
The mysteries of the female body have always been a source of intimidation for men. This play goes after that attitude by delving into women’s relationship with sexuality based on a notion that really has no scientific grounding at all. Here, the playwright exposes the fact that reactions to women’s needs, as represented on stage, are usually mocked, ignored, made into caricatures or just dismissed. This play goes after such prejudice with full frontal comedy and director Bronwyn Steinberg keeps us smiling the whole time.
The selfish and over confident husband Mr. Daldry (played perfectly by David Frisch) brings his wife in to see Dr. Givings only because she is not seeing to his needs whereas she obviously has issues of her own that no one bothers to investigate. The play shows the way the young Dr. Givings, (played by a rather stiff and uncomfortable David Whitely whose bodily language reveals less about his stage character than about his own apparent malaise in the role) is obsessed with science, the invention of electricity and their relation to medicine. He ushers the hesitant Mrs. Daldry (Sarah Finn) into the “inner room”, from which his own wife is banished! The petticoats come off, the white sheets cover the unmentionable parts and that strange instrument resembling an electric screwdriver comes buzzing under the sheets setting off great gasps of pleasure as the patient is freed from her repressed body. Sarah Finn’s mussed hair and flushed face tell it all. Her performance was quite delightful.
By the way, the treatment is also given to males , as we see the artist and sensitive soul played by Robin Toller. Still, women are the main focuss as the female characters start coming back for more. Obviously the treatment pleases them much more than their men ever could.
This opens up all sorts of playful situations which feed the theatrical tension of the evening. What is particularly disturbing is the fact that the good doctor is so obsessed with his scientific experiments that he cannot see how his own wife is suffering from lack of affection, and is no doubt the perfect example of the unfulfilled woman that he is trying to “cure”. Catherine Givings, played by a most lively Sascha Cole, who gives off vibrations of her own personal sort, attracts the men to her without even realizing what she is doing, but still does her best to make the doctor understand that sexuality is not only a mechanical function but a mental and emotional one as well. Givings’ wife brings up a serious comment on intimacy, the need for warmth, physical contact, and vitality that goes way beyond the satisfaction acquired from the buzz of that infernal machine and Sascha Cole pranced through it all with great glee and enthusiasm. .
Nancy Solman’s delightful Victorian set highlights the contrast spaces between that which is stylishly middle class and and that which is not to be mentioned in proper society. Patrice-Ann Forbes’ costumes are beautiful and the play itself, echoes a parody of Eugene Scribe’s “well-made play” so much in vogue in the 19th century. This brings us right into the world of Victorian morality and the theatre that the author links to her world of forbidden urges. The theatrical sources turn the play into a wonderful puzzle that keeps us wondering what will come up next. Sometimes we sense this is a Victorian melodrama, where the pathos of the wet nurse (a perfectly competent Dilys Ayafor) was not done with quite enough distance to make it a nasty poke at British colonial society which repressed the women of the colonies in an even more terrible way. The parodoy of racism is clearly in the text but the staging might have dealt with it a bit more. At times, the play was also on the brink of a French farce, especially when the women are flopping about in bed, playing with the vibrator and shrieking with pleasure as they hide the instrument and then pull it out, hoping the husband won’t come in at the wrong time. That was one of the best moments of the evening. There is a lot of stylish stage business set into the text and I sometime had the feeling that the director did not quite bring out everything she might have, if she had delved more deeply.
Then there is that tender conclusion that unfortunately, exhibits the ultimate directorial repression by not allowing the actors to remove all their clothes. It would have made a lot more sense if the couple had been allowed to undress and finally recognize their real needs. I wondered if the Gladstone has rules about nudity.
The vibrator is only a means and not an end as the play deftly shows us. Building from an apparently fluffy comedy to a much more pointed satire that works as both social comment and and a comment on theatre itself, the play takes us through all sorts of games with more serious undertones that make it a worthwhile evening. But then that begs the question, how is it that such a play can speak to us even now? No matter what people say openly, it certainly must still touch hidden needs of contemporary society, otherwise why would it have been nominated for a Tony Award for best comedy ? Aren’t we then still that repressed society that we pretend to laugh at in the play? No doubt about it. The play has become our liberating vibrator and we really get off on it!!
Go see this. It plays until June 11. At The Gladstone.
In the Next Room of The Vibrator Play by Sarah Ruhl
Directed by Bronwyn Steinberg
Set design Nancy Solman
Costume design Patrice-Ann Forbes
Music Larry Tarof
CAST:
Catherine Givings Sascha Cole
Dr. Givings David Whitely
Annie Michelle Le Blanc
Sabarina Daldry Sarah Finn
Mr. Daldry David Frisch
Elizabeth Dilys Ayafor
Leo Irving Robin Toller
A production by Same Day Theatre in Association with Plosive Productions and The Counterpoint Players.
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