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Julian Elfer and Jill Tanner
Photo by Richard Termine
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There is more than a little Chekhov in N.
C. Hunter’s 1953 play A Day By The Sea, and so it is most fitting that director
Austin Pendleton is on hand to helm this rare production by the Mint Theater
Company, that great restorer of lost theatrical treasures now ensconced at its
new home at the Beckett Theatre at Theatre Row.
Pendleton, who has directed Three Sisters,
Uncle Vanya, and Ivanov for the Classic Stage Company, has mined this paean to
the regrets and follies of middle age for all its
worth. The acting is excellent, as are
the production values – set, costumes, lighting, and sound. Praise-worthy all.
But before I heap on any further plaudits, let
me warn you. It is long (nearly three hours, with three acts and two
intermissions), and not a lot happens, at least not as you may have come to
expect in terms of the rise and fall of conflict and resolution. More than a
few audience members disappeared after the first act, which, to be honest,
seems determined to out-Chekhov Chekhov, what with its rambling speeches and
diatribes that do precious little to move the story forward. It’s almost as if
Hunter were saying – “You want Chekhov?
I’ll give you Chekhov!" Here's an alcoholic doctor
straight out of Uncle Vanya; a mother disappointed in her son, straight out of
The Seagull; a confused old man living on his memories, straight out of The
Cherry Orchard. There are probably other recognizable connections you can make as well,
But if you are patient and come back after
that first break, you’ll find that Act II and Act III are ever so much more
engaging, poignant, and often surprisingly funny. Here’s Hunter saying, “OK,
now take a look at my British twist on the old Russian master!” The parade of characters who were barely
distinguishable from one another (there are ten of them) suddenly burst out in
their individuality, and, as it turns out, there is a central story after
all.
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Julian Elfer, Philip Goodwin, and George
Morfogen
Photo by Richard Termine
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A Day By The Sea takes place at the home
of Laura Anson (Jill Tanner) in the Southwest of England, along the English
Channel in Dorset. Laura lives there
permanently, occasionally joined by her son Julian (Julian Elfer), a member of
the British diplomatic corps stationed in Paris. Also living with her is her
octogenarian brother-in-law David (George Morfogen) and an attendant physician,
the heavy-drinking unreliable Dr. Farley (Philip Goodwin).
This summer, there are some additional
guests: Frances (Katie Firth), an old family friend who is taking refuge after
a scandalous divorce, along with her children – daughter Elinor (Kylie McVey)
and son Toby (Athan Sporek) – in tow with their governess, Miss Mathieson (Polly
McKie). Two other characters who pop in
from time to time are the family solicitor (Curzon Dobell) and Julian’s boss in
the Foreign Office (Sean Gormley).
As you might imagine, it does take a bit
of time and work to sort everyone out.
But eventually we settle on Julian’s story. At the age of 40, he is confronted with the realization that his career is heading nowhere and that his life has
been one of wasted and unappreciated efforts and lost opportunities.
The biggest loss, at least as he is able
to discern it, was the possibility of marriage to Frances. Once close friends,
it turns out she was in love with him for the longest time, while he was
oblivious and focused on his career. Though they went their separate ways two
decades earlier, Julian permits himself to imagine that he can rekindle the
spark of their youthful potential. Surely it is love that will rescue him
from sinking into a life of quiet anguish, an emotional vortex that has already
grabbed hold of the desperately lonely Miss Mathieson. Everyone, it seems,
clings to hope, however unlikely it is to bear fruit.
That, in a nutshell, is A Day By The Sea, an accumulation of missed opportunities, unrequited love, foolish expectations, and dashed dreams. It is not an easy play by any means, but it
is a significant work that will resonate with anyone who has had to shelve an ambition or wrestle with accepting what is rather than mooning over what might have
been. Mr. Pendleton, the Mint, and the
entire company of actors have done a great service in restoring this neglected
work.
Special kudos, too, to the frame-within-a-frame-within-a-frame set design by Charles Morgan that perfectly captures the feel of the seaside locale; the lighting by Xavier Pierce that recreates the summer sun; the just-right period costumes by Martha Hally, and Jane Shaw's wonderfully modulated sound design (lots of seabirds and relentless ocean waves quietly underpin the action).
Bravo, Mint. You've done your mission proud!
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