The
lovely Steppenwolf
upstairs theatre and its proscenium set for this production incorporates two
entrances, one room, and the rumble of frequent and committed theatre goers as
one settles. "I remember when Steppenwolf was further north" and
"this theatre reminds me of Lincoln Center". In this intimate and
friendly space, settle in quietly and prepare for the intense ride of Harold
Pinter's "Betrayal", crafted in scenes that
flow in stutter step from 1977 to 1968 (yes, you've read your program
correctly, we're moving backwards, are we ready for this?). Each of the play's
nine scenes provides a facet of a year during the time period 1977 backward to
1968 where we first meet our characters. Some visits within years involve a
sequence of temporally ordered scenes (changing the overall reverse flow of the
play for a moment), providing a few additional perspectives on the characters'
introspection and honesty (or lack of either) at those particular points in
time. Intimacy and intensity and reserve and angry verbal edginess will mark
the ensuing 100 minute intermission less visit with these three characters.
Director Rick Snyder has crafted a hard-edged gem.
In
the first scene, we see that we're beginning at the end. You will ask yourself:
is this "Same Time Next Year" in reverse? A story of a set of married lovers
Jerry (Ian Barford)
and Emma (Amy Morton), ask each other about their spouses and children, according to
habit. Then early in the scene we see the Pinter pause -- the blank face
presented to us onto which we can write our own intensely lived scripts. We
hear the pace of the characters' language and the rests between the notes. Soon
we learn that this first scene is occurring several years after Jerry and
Emma's seven year affair has ended, which may send you (it sent me) for the
first time to the set of illuminated years adoring the upper edge of the
proscenium arch to do some simple math (each year represented in the play is
represented in numerals illuminated to illustrate scenic timing). This set
design decision is not kitsch but essential and rooting as the closely abutted years
pass by. It becomes immediately clear that the story will then not be whether
Jerry and Emma will leave their spouses (we know that answer almost
immediately) but what led them to get together, stay together, and leave, then
to reconnect after some time. And the tone evoked by our characters and our
playwright in this first scene tells us that this will NOT be a domestic comedy
closely observed by Neil Simon but something else entirely.
Jerry
(the lover, married before and after his affair with Emma to another woman we
never meet) is most concerned even in this initial scene of the play (yet final
scene of their script) with Robert (Tracy Letts), Emma's husband, his oldest
friend. Jerry is intensely focused as subsequent 1977 scenes unfold with the
fact that Robert has known about the affair longer that Jerry has known he has.
Through dialogue such as "I thought you knew that I knew", and the
passing gently directed pas de deux (all three are not on stage together until
the fourth scene) of these three friends and lovers, more questions are raised
then answered, in the best theatrical sense. Whose relationships are primary
here?
This
is Pinter, so expect pauses indicating depth or evasion. There are also passing
references to sometimes troubling information that is all presented with the
same dispassionate tone: a child falls from a bicycle; there may have been
domestic violence between Emma and Robert, reported by Robert to Jerry. Neither
topic evokes much or any reaction. And again we wonder what action lies outside
the room, underneath the words, predating the action we are seeing.
The
betrayals of the play are multiple and there for the viewer to uncover:
marriage, friendship, individual and personal, ethical, professional. You will
find yourself examining these characters and your own life. The mostly reverse
chronology of the play's action keeps you focused on theme, on edge, looking
for clues, never lulled into comfortable and familiar storytelling. We think we
know where the characters' lives have ended, we watch individual interactions
unfold, but we don't now what events happened at either end. And it is possible
to construct a wide range of scenarios for each of these characters. In
essence, we have learned all to little about their fundamental characters after
watching them feign and parry with one another. The effect is striking and
disarming.
The
worlds of Pinter's plays are usually male dominated. When female characters are
present, they play on the same power level as the men. Pinter does not appear
to create a distinctly female voice. Or certainly, he doesn't create a uniquely
female voice in this play. To my mind, all these roles could be played by men,
or all by women (to my mind) and the same effect achieve. This is a story about
relationships and partnerships and trust. Life begins in moments; chapters
begin with a touch. The final play image is a gentle one of touch and light and
music, in fact a beginning and an end of a young marriage. From this moment on,
the relationships among these characters will never be as simple again.
Set
design by Todd Rosenthal is minimal, flexible, and effective. Original music and sound design
by Rob Milburn
and Michael Bodeen
is jazzy and spare and fitting. A luminous gem of a play.