Oscar E Moore

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In the Next Room or the vibrator play short circuits

November 23rd, 2009 by Oscar E Moore

Midway through the long and meandering second act of Sarah Ruhl’s new play directed by Les Waters and produced by Lincoln Center Theater at the Lyceum, “In the Next Room”, provocatively sub-titled “the Vibrator play” I began to feel irritable, solemn and sleepy.

Could I be experiencing some of the same symptoms that are bringing both women and men to the operating theater of Dr. Givings to be treated for “hysteria” for some physical therapy via “electrical massage” thanks to the newly invented electricity, generating “paroxysms” (orgasms) with his “machine” and “Chattanooga Vibrator” to release the pent up fluids causing our illnesses or was I simply becoming uninterested?

It was the latter.  What starts out as an interesting, titillating and somewhat amusing idea which causes some to be shocked and some to suppress nervous laughter at the sight of the Dr. (a stoic and subdued Michael Cerveris) poking his head beneath the sheets to treat his patients – slowly begins to go awry, developing into a play about the stupidity of men who treat their wives in a demeaning manner, informative material about wet nurses, the artistic temperament and more than a tinge of lesbianism all rolled into an unbalanced play that tries to do too many things at once with dialogue that is both period and modern and thus jarring at times.  Is it to be a farce or something quite serious?

To coin a phrase, it’s pleasurable, but fleeting.  Soon after the initial feeling of well being you discover that something is still wanting.

A delightful Laura Benanti is the naïve and ignored wife of Dr. Givings.  An innocent woman of the Victorian age who hears the noises but does not know what is going on in the next room, her husband’s under lock and key office.  She says whatever pops into her mind and suffers from “foot in mouth” syndrome.  She’s charming and has just given birth to a daughter but as her husband keeps telling her she is “inadequate” for not having enough milk to feed her child.  That’s how it was then.  And unfortunately for many women today abusive husbands have not gone out of style.

Mr. Daldry (a dense Thomas Jay Ryan) has brought his tired and sensitive to light, cold and green curtains wife (an excellent Maria Dizzia) to Dr. Givings.  No sooner has he applied said vibrator to Mrs. Daldry that she is pink of cheek, forgetting about her illness and desirous for more treatments.  Manual treatments by the doctor’s assistant Annie (Wendy Rich Stetson).

The Daldry’s have a black housekeeper, Elizabeth (a mild mannered and wise Quincy Tyler Bernstine) who has just lost her just born son Henry and a little too conveniently has milk to spare for the child of Mrs. Givings.

At the start of Act II we are introduced to the artist Leo Irving (Chandler Williams) a male “hysteric” who has perhaps viewed too many John Barrymore movies.   Treatment commences and his life begins to blossom, only to cause a variety of complications for all involved.  I suddenly lost interest despite the lovely set by Annie Smart, the gorgeous period costumes by David Zimm and the atmospheric Chopinesque music by Jonathan Bell.

The ending is eye opening but completely farfetched.  Is it in the imagination of Mrs. Givings or can we really accept that it actually happens?   I could only wonder how much the transition must have cost and how frosty Mr. Cerveris must feel.

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