Chicago Theatre Review

Chicago Theatre Review

Somewhere Between Reality and Dreams

July 28, 2023 Reviews Comments Off on Somewhere Between Reality and Dreams

No Man’s Land

Like so many other plays by British Harold Pinter, this bizarre and, I confess, quite confusing two-hour, two-act drama appears to be a reaction to an intruder who attempts to disturb the status quo. This 1974 play, like most of Pinter’s absurdist comic-dramas (The Birthday Party, The Caretaker, The Homecoming), exists somewhere between what’s real and what’s only dreamed. Hirst, an aging, alcoholic, upper-class author meets a fellow poet named Spooner at the local pub. After an evening of drinking and conversation, Hirst invites the down-on-his-luck writer back to his magnificent home for more drinks. As the night wears on, the two men become increasingly inebriated, with Hirst ripening into reticence and Spooner turning more talkative.

Suddenly Hirst throws his empty glass shouting, “No man’s land: it does not move or change or grow old…it remains forever icy, silent..” Then Hirst collapses and crawls out of the room, leaving Spooner alone and confused. Suddenly two younger men enter. Foster and Briggs are Hirst’s support staff and, supposedly, his friends. There’s an unspoken indication that the two may even be a couple, and perhaps tied to Hirst in more ways than they initially indicated. As the antagonistic Foster and Briggs babble endlessly about all manner of subjects, Spooner now becomes the reticent listener. 

When Hirst returns in his robe and pajamas, he babbles incoherently about a dream he once had of someone drowning. He also talks about the album containing photoa of his best friends. Hirst remarks that Spooner isn’t in this picture portfolio, but his guest insists that the person drowning in Hirst’s dream was actually him. Hirst collapses and Spooner rushes to his host’s side, pushing the younger men away. But Foster and Briggs blame Spooner for Hirst’s condition. As they gently remove their boss from the drawing room they warn Spooner that they will protect Hirst from “evil men” at all costs. Act I ends as they lock the door, shut off the lights and leave Spooner alone in the dark.

Act II finds Spooner still sitting in the room the following morning. Briggs, in a more cheerful mood, enters with champagne and breakfast for Spooner. When Hirst returns, also in a benevolent state of mind, he suddenly remembers Spooner as an old Oxford schoolmate. They proceed to reminisce about old times and romantic encounters with the same women. Spooner ultimately accuses Hirst of an affair with his wife. He also pities the younger men for being employed by Hirst; then Spooner surprisingly begs the wealthy writer to hire him instead to be his man-servant. Hirst’s response is “Let’s change the subject for the last time,” and finds himself stuck in this moment. When he tries to move on to discuss new topics, Spooner turns the tables and comments that “No, you are in no man’s land where nothing ever moves, changes or grows older. Life here remains icy and silent.” All Hirst can say is, “I’ll drink to that,” at which the lights black out.

The feeling this theatergoer got from this absurdist play is that we’re watching a story set in limbo, somewhere between living and dying. The dreamlike events progress without any kind of rational trajectory. It’s truly like watching a story set in a dream world, or an aptly titled, No Man’s Land. The beauty of a play by this writer, however, is twofold. First, there’s the elegant richness of language that seems to flow like a babbling brook. Then there’s the unexpected humor found in the rapid-fire dialogue, as well as the laughs buried in those spaces that fall between the lines. A big part of any Pinter script is how the playwright writes his plays like a musical score including notes about pacing, indicating pauses, full stops and directions for the long monologues.

Eloquently directed by Les Waters, the stellar, four-member cast is led by talented Steppenwolf founder and ensemble member, Jeff Perry, as Hirst. His portrayal radiates class and respectability, while an air of senility often creeps into his character. Watch Perry’s face as he speaks and, especially, while he’s listening to others. He’s matched by the terrifically talented Mark Ulrich as Spooner. Both men create characters who engage in a finely-woven verbal sparring match, much like Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen did when this play opened on Broadway in 2013, in repertory with “Waiting For Godot.” Perry and Ulrich share the stage in a delicate balance that’s a treasure to behold. Their performances are spurred by Chicago newcomer Samuel Roukin, as Foster, and Jon Hudson Odom, seen recently in Steppenwolf’s “The Seagull” and “Describe the Night.” Both actors bring a tension and a threatening presence to the play as they challenge the curiously budding relationship between Hirst and Spooner.

Andrew Boyce has designed a stage setting that’s really magnificent. The massive drawing room is as high as it is wide. A single door leading to the rest of the house is upstage and off-center, rather like the play itself. A curtained window takes up most of the stage left wall. The ceiling of Hirst’s elegant, sparsely-decorated library features an Victorian medallion from which dangles a massive chandelier. It truly symbolizes the character’s affluence and class. The room is dominated by a full bar, set within a dozen floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that fill the stage right wall. It’s an absolute showpiece of fine stage-crafting and theatrical design.

Steppenwolf Theatre’s production of one of Harold Pinter’s most revered and confusing plays is playful yet mysterious, probing yet penetrating. The fallibility of one’s memory seems to be another theme that lurks within the shadows of this story. As the play unfolds and seems to turn in on itself, we’re never quite sure what’s truth and what’s imaginary because, like all of Pinter’s works, the story lies somewhere between reality and dreams.       

Recommended

Reviewed by Colin Douglas

Presented July 13-August 20 by Steppenwolf Theatre, in their downstairs venue, 1650 N. Halsted St., Chicago.

Tickets are available in person at the box office, by calling 312-335-1650 or by going to www.steppenwolf.org.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.


0 comments

Comments are closed.