"Private Lives" = private hell?

Producers, actors and audiences cannot seem to resist Noël Coward's "Private Lives." Currently receiving a spirited production at the Schoolhouse Theater in Croton Falls, N.Y., through September 20, the play has been produced on Broadway eight times, including its 1931 premiere, and is supposedly scheduled for a ninth production in the 2026-27 season. 

There has rarely been a more perfectly-constructed comedy: Act I - a divorced couple (Elyot and Amanda) run into each other while on honeymoon in the beach resort of Deauville, France, with their current spouses (Sybil and Victor). Act II - the divorced couple realize they're still mad about each other and run away together to Paris. Act III - the jilted spouses show up in Paris as the divorced couple fight like jungle cats.

The original London production saw Coward as Elyot, Gertrude Lawrence as Amanda and Laurence Olivier as Victor. In 1969, I saw Brian Bedford and Tammy Grimes' effervescent performances as Elyot and Amanda on Broadway.

Coward displayed his multiple talents as actor, playwright and songwriter in this work, since his lovely "Someday I'll Find You" is heard throughout in the background.   

Director Owen Thompson has a fine cast for this 95-year-old classic: Patrick Zeller as Elyot (last seen as the slimy Valmont in "Les Liaisons Dangereuses"), Olivia Gilliatt as Amanda, Zachary Clark as Victor, Kate Day Magocsi as Sybil (also seen in "Liaisons") and Abby Malczon as an exasperated maid, Louise. 

In "Private Lives," the scenic design (by Hayden Bingham) and lighting design (Dennis Parichy) are almost players in the action. Act I takes place on neighboring hotel room balconies as one couple, then the other, emerges to sigh over the seaside view and the Duke of Westminster's yacht out on the water. 

Patrick Zeller as Elyot and Olivia Gilliatt as
 Amanda on that fateful hotel balcony in Deauville.
  Photo:Doug Abdelnour 

From the get-go, however, Coward buries little flies in the blissful ointment. Elyot's Sibyl and Amanda's Victor harp on their partners' first marriages and honeymoons. ("She was pretty, wasn't she? ... Prettier than I am?" "Do you love me more than you loved Elyot?")

Of course, Coward stacks the deck with the new spouses. Sybil's volcanic hysterics (courtesy of Magocsi) and Victor's prim mustache, bit of a tummy and puzzled expression (from the skilled Clark) are no match for Elyot and Amanda's effortless glamor.

Early, the play title appears with, again, some foreboding as Amanda tells Victor, "I think very few people are completely normal really, deep down in their private lives ... That was the trouble with Elyot and me; we were like two violent acids bubbling about in a nasty little matrimonial bottle."

The bottle quickly becomes those adjoining rooms. Horrified at seeing each other on the balconies, Elyot and Amanda tell their new spouses that they must leave immediately. Sybil and Victor, quite properly, refuse and storm downstairs, each to dine alone, leaving Elyot and Amanda in the danger zone. The "damned moonlight," in Elyot's words, the string orchestra down on the patio and the sea air prompt a renewal of romance and the two swear "never to quarrel again."  

Zachary Clark as Victor and Kate Day Magocsi
as Sybil. Photo/Doug Abdelnour

This resolve, of course, is tested as the two flee to Amanda's Paris apartment and, basically, stay in bed for three days. All we see, naturally, is the living room, where the two explore a mountain range of emotions, from "You're the most thrilling, exciting woman that was ever born" to "You spiteful little beast!"

This is the crux of the play that's fascinated audiences for decades: two beautiful people irresistibly attracted by love and, at the same time, so terrified of vulnerability that they have to lash out at each other. 

The battle gets physical as Elyot slaps Amanda and she breaks a record over his head, among the fights that travel around the room. (The credit in the program that really seems to encapsulate the love-hate dynamic is Dan O'Driscoll as Fight and Intimacy Director.)

Noel Coward and Gertrude Lawrence in
"Private Lives"

Watching sophisticated people behave badly is often a joy, but such apparently-witty lines as "Some women should be struck regularly, like gongs," land rather differently today.

Director Thompson's notes in the program allude to this: "Our task has been not to apologize for [the play], tame it, or force it to conform neatly to the expectations of 2026, but rather to listen closely enough that it may live as fully today as when it was originally presented."

It would be a mistake to think the playwright is expressing his opinion through the "gong" line (that I'll bet was considered outrageous in 1931.)

Brian Bedford and Tammy
Grimes in "Private Lives"

Elyot and Amanda love the sound of their own voices, tossing off such lines as Elyot's  "Let's be superficial and pity the poor philosophers. Let's blow trumpets and squeakers, and enjoy the party as much as we can, like very small, quite idiotic schoolchildren."

What Coward is commenting upon is their vacuous lives. The four main characters seem to have plenty of money to go on honeymoons in France and travel the world without any visible means of support. They are free, then, in their Gatsbyesque carelessness, to indulge themselves in behavior that might, in other hands, draw the police. Forty years later, Edward Albee's "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" took those two couples, put them in a university setting and ripped off the witty glamor.

But it is meant to be a comedy and Coward doesn't let us down. After Victor and Sybil surprise the lovers in the Paris apartment, the four of them sit down for a deliciously-awkward morning coffee service and the two spare spouses eventually discover that bad behavior isn't limited to beautiful people.

As Amanda, Gilliatt possesses a glowing energy, expressing her character's wildness in a wonderful mad dance with a shawl in Act II. Zeller plays Elyot with a world weariness that is only discarded when he is overcome with his feelings for Amanda. Magocsi's achievement is to make one feel sorry for Sybil and want to strangle her at the same time. Clark plays Victor as the only sane person in the room but unfortunately, he's engaged in a battle of wits without a weapon. Malczon makes the most of Louise's jaundiced view of these mad les Anglais. 

Opening night was a bit tricky, with apparent issues concerning the set walls, and the cast seemed to be feeling its way through the fast, rapid-fire dialogue. With two weekends to go, "Private Lives" will be ticking along like a well-oiled comedy machine.  

 

  

Shakespeare, saved for all time

Anyone who loves Shakespeare -- or a good story about Shakespeare -- and lives in the suburbs north of New York City would do well to get to the Elmwood Playhouse in Nyack, N.Y. for the current production, "The Book of Will," running through April 11.

The book in question refers to the authoritative collection of Shakespeare's plays published in 1623 and known as the First Folio. How, exactly, this came about is the subject of Lauren Gunderson's drama, directed with a sure hand by Lisa Spielman.

The play opens with a hapless actor (played by Damon Fischetti) reciting the most famous speech in theater: "To be or not to be ..." but the familiar lines crumble into confused, pedestrian writing. "Aye, there's the point/to die, to sleep, is that all?/Aye, all/No, to sleep, to dream/Aye, marry there it goes ..." Oy, not "aye."

Just to get the bad taste out of our mouths, the speech as published in the First Folio is:

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 

and by opposing, end them. To die - to sleep

No more; and by a sleep, to say we end 

The heartache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to.

 

You just have to pause and breathe for a second at the depth, beauty and rhythm of those words. 

From left, Burbage (Ted Odell), Condell (Adam Bloom),
Heminges (Michael Fleischer) and Heminges' daughter,
Alice (Alison Costello) discuss saving Shakespeare's plays.
All photos/Elmwood Playhouse/Omar Kozarsky

The garbled version of "Hamlet" (which actually was published in Shakespeare's lifetime and is now known as the "Bad Hamlet") is dissected post-show at the Globe Tavern by three of the Bard's friends, actors Richard Burbage (Ted Odell), Henry Condell (Adam Bloom) and John Heminges (Michael Fleischer). Outraged at the dramatic mess and literary piracy, Heminges declares, "They just steal the title and Will's name and make up the rest."

Will himself has been gone for three years. Heminges has retired from acting and become a manager of the King's Men, the company in which they all kept audiences enthralled at the Globe Theatre. Burbage, whose volcanic outrage stems from the fact that he was the first Hamlet, Macbeth and Othello, is still on the boards, along with Condell. 

We immediately, and throughout the play (with a nod to Spielman's direction), see and feel how much these men and women care about their late friend and the great work they brought to life. By their hands, Hamlet contemplated death and life, Macbeth was tortured by conscience, Othello driven to murder. Above all, the words mattered, exactly as they came from Will's poetic genius, not sort-of, not paraphrased, not summarized. 

Ben Jonson (Andrew Greenway) intimidates 
scribe Ralph Crane (Charlie Scatamacchia). 

Macbeth doesn't say, "Well, the days sure are long when your spirit is extremely troubled." He says, "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow/Creeps in this petty pace from day to day/To the last syllable of recorded time." How can you not feel for a man expressing such despair?

However, the practicalities of the job facing the actors is immense. Around 18 of the plays have been printed, even badly, but another 18 have not - titles that include "The Tempest," "Macbeth," "Julius Caesar" and "Measure for Measure." They only exist in fragments - actors' memories, journals, prompt books, individual scenes on paper. Even if the actors succeed in piecing together the scripts in accurate form, how can they manage to print all 36 plays in what would surely be a very large book? 

They face an unexpected setback - Burbage has memorized many of the plays, but he dies early in the project. However, Rebecca Heminges (Meg Sewell) and Elizabeth Condell (Amanda Bloom) warmly support their husbands' enthusiasm. The actors manage to convince the larger-than-life Shakespeare friend and rival Ben Jonson (Andrew Greenway) to write a dedicatory poem for the volume. 

Far left, Rebecca Heminges (Meg Sewell) and
 (far right) Elizabeth Condell (Amanda Bloom),
support their husbands' printing project.

The project is taking shape. A key member signs on - Ralph Crane (Charlie Scatamacchia), who helps authenticate the play texts due to his work as a professional scribe with the King's Men. However, the only printer in London with the capacity to take on such a large book is the elderly, blind William Jaggard (Ralph Bowers), who has printed copies of Will's plays with blithe disregard for accuracy or permission.

Disagreement over hiring Jaggard almost splits Heminges and Condell's friendship, but Jaggard's son, Isaac (Todd Brown) convinces them with sincerity that he intends to do the project justice.

Will the team succeed? Gunderson's script and Spielman's direction keep the suspense taut - even though this is one story where we know the outcome. 

The cast is uniformly excellent. Fleischer creates a Hemings who is a careful man, realistic enough to point out roadblocks, but Adam Bloom's Condell is willing to take more risks. Gunderson's inclusion of the women in the men's lives is a brilliant touch, rounding out family life and the scene in 17th-century London. Sewell's Rebecca, savvy and tough, manages a food business as Costello's Alice, smart as they come, keeps the ale flowing at the tavern as she, too, dives into the project. Amanda Bloom's Elizabeth keeps Henry on track with her special warmth and humor.

Putting together the First Folio on Rob Ward's
theater set. 

Odell and Greenway turn in sensational performances as giant personalities Burbage and Jonson.  

Scatamacchia plays Crane as a sometimes-crabby man in a very precise job who has specific ideas about how to do it right. 

Rob Ward's set design takes a rectangular space, seats the audience on the long sides, and uses simple wooden furniture to create a tavern at one end, a print shop in the middle and a theater stage/home at the other end. It's a beautiful playing space and director Spielman, along with lighting designer Deanna Koski, make the most of it.

So many details of this show are surprising and delightful. Costume designer Claudia Stefany puts a little modern touch on each period outfit, with a “this isn’t only history but lives now” vibe - a ball cap on Ralph Crane, a Grateful Dead t-shirt on the "Bad Hamlet" actor. There's no sound designer credited, but the incidental music featuring modern tunes played in an Elizabethan style was a clever choice. 

Today, the First Folio is one of the most important books ever published, second only, some say, to the Gutenberg Bible. Seven hundred fifty copies of this large-format, 900-page book were produced in 1623. A complete copy sold in 2020 for $10 million. Heminges, Condell and the team preserved a genius' insight into human psychology and motivation that advanced our knowledge of the world and continues to resonate to this day.

You might say that's worth a play.