Coward's "Private Lives' at the Lantern (1st review)

Noël Coward— accomplished playwright, director of stage and screen, actor, composer, singer and more— constantly worried whether his works and name would endure. In the post-World War II period, as Coward himself lamented, he seemed an "old-fashioned" writer, left behind by new writing trends and novelty-seeking audiences.

Yet by the time Coward died, in 1973, he had been showered with honors, including a knighthood and a Tony for lifetime achievement. "His memory will endure, his legend will endure," insisted the British actor and playwright Stephen Fry at a wreath-laying ceremony in 2009.

No doubt it will. But should it?

One percenters

That was the question I asked as I took my seat at the Lantern's production of Private Lives. The play is an 81-year-old exchange of wit among four sophisticates whom Americans today would identify as "one per centers." The script was entertaining to re-read.

But what could that comedy of manners signify for our period— which, whatever its many deficiencies, suffers no shortage of relevant comedy?

In a sense, Coward and I were asking the same question. The Lantern production suggests that we were looking for an answer in the wrong place. The only way to prove that an old play continues to breathe is to offer a revival that's an unforgettable theater experience— which the Lantern does.

Two couples, adjoining rooms

Private Lives deals with two newly married couples on their honeymoons. The wife of one couple, Amanda, was formerly married to the husband of the other, Elyot. Their previous marriage consisted of three years of genuine passion and incessant bickering, followed by a divorce five years ago.

Now they meet again, because the couples have unknowingly booked hotel rooms with an adjoining terrace. The divorcees' chance encounter stirs the still-burning embers of their love, which they resume, along with their violent arguments.

Dibble's plastered smile

Ben Dibble, who plays Elyot (the role originally played by Coward himself), makes the part look as though it was written for him. He gets a laugh as he enters for the first time, a broad smile fixed on his face— a plastered smile, it turns out, that he uses only when trying to please his new wife, Sibyl.

He softens that gaze when loving Amanda, and turns it into daggers when he's engaged in deadly verbal and physical combat with her.

But Dibble is far more than an appropriate face. He exudes an overall athleticism that accentuates his witty lines or expresses his reaction to Amanda's words— a flick of a hand, for instance, or the rubbing out of a cigarette with such anger that the act involves his entire body.

Dibble delivers his lines with such precision that we appreciate anew that the dialogue in Private Lives is not only witty but also nearly perfect in rhythm, tone and pace.

Mute gestures

The same must be said of Geneviève Perrier as Amanda (the role originally played by Gertrude Lawrence), who is Dibble's match in every respect. When she twists her mouth, she may be emphasizing an actual line or expressing wordlessly exactly what she's thinking.

Perrier's mute gestures ring so true that it feels as though Coward wrote them into the script. A couple of times, her back was turned to me so that I didn't catch all of her lines, but the hunch of her shoulders and the angling of her head told me all I needed to know, whether it was affection, affectation or vulnerability.

Edward Albee, in the introduction to a 1965 edition of Coward's plays, suggested that Coward's work wasn't in danger of becoming old-fashioned because "what becomes old-fashioned has within it, from the start, the dry rot to permit the disintegration." The Lantern production, through its two lead actors as well as a fine supporting cast, proves that Coward's script for Private Lives suffers no speck of dry rot.


♦


To read another review by Jackie Atkins, click here.