Variety, August 29, 2005
by Joel Hirschorn
In Joanna Murray-Smith's one-acter, middle-age housewife
and formerly prominent poetess Honor (Susan Sullivan) comments to a
reporter that there comes a time when reading is more enjoyable than being
handcuffed to a bed. Her witty renunciation of sex as a key force in
marriage sets the stage for a cleverly written, highly entertaining drama
about a man's desire for a much younger woman and how it destroys his
32-year marriage. This ultrasmooth production, perceptively directed by
Andrew J. Robinson, offers so many relevant observations about
relationships that it overcomes the lack of sexual fire needed to make its
premise fully plausible.
Pulitzer Prize-winning writer-journalist Gus (Robert
Foxworth) is shown being interviewed by 29-year-old Claudia (Kirsten
Potter), a beautiful, calculating biographer who eventually leaps past
literary language with a randy come-on. This unleashes 59-year-old Gus'
resolve to abandon the chic, elegant Honor and reclaim the lust of his
youth.
After acclaimed portrayals of the title role by Jane
Alexander (on Broadway), Eileen Atkins (London's National Theater) and a
reading by Meryl Streep at the New York Stage & Film Festival in 1996,
Sullivan makes the part her own, turning this version into a personal
triumph.
She vividly externalizes a woman's realization that she has
sacrificed her gifts to support her husband's work, and now must view
herself as a totally separate human being. Her transitions -- from
self-assurance to steadily mounting horror and gradual acceptance -- are
superbly conveyed. Honor's dignity is all the more heartbreaking because
it's evident that shattering heartbreak lies beneath it.
Sullivan's flair for tossing off acerbic lines lends
excitement to scenes with her ruthlessly confrontational rival.
Fortunately, Potter is a match for Sullivan's power. More than a phony,
silky-sweet Eve Harrington, Potter's Claudia has startling audacity,
accented by Michele K. Short's clinging jungle-print dress that defines
Claudia's predatory nature. She's not afraid to be callous and
unsympathetic, justifying Gus' evaluation of her: "You're a hard little
thing, aren't you?" The sequence where she tells Gus' daughter, Sophie
(Becky Wahlstrom), how wonderful her father is in bed has a wounding
viciousness.
Wahlstrom, like her female co-stars, is dynamically
talented...
Portraying the husband wedged between two women, Foxworth
(who alternates in the part with Granville Van Dusen) puts forth the right
scholarly persona. As he and Sullivan sit comfortably in Stephanie Kerley
Schwartz's appropriately conservative set -- with beige modern couch and
three bookcases -- their interaction shows the intellectual compatibility
that made the marriage function for more than three decades.
Foxworth also is outstanding when he damns Claudia's novel
with faint praise -- "It was ... very nice" -- stumbling along as his
young lover grows incensed at the perceived rejection and responds,
"You're saying I'm obvious." This moment is particularly resonant, since
we see his tepid response will prove fatal to their affair...
Murray-Smith's script is at its best in the scenes
involving wronged wife and malevolent mistress. She suggests Claudia's
true admiration and emotional feelings are for Honor, and the play's most
memorable exchange occurs when Claudia asks for Honor's forgiveness.
Sullivan's reply is a measure of her depth as an actress, her dry answer
suggesting multiple levels of inner contempt and sadness: "Don't make me
watch you grow up."
Blunt Review
by Kate West
Marriage is tough. Especially after 32 years. No one knows
that better than Honour (Susan Sullivan), whose husband abruptly leaves
her, with no obvious warning (externally anyway), in the emotionally
wrenching "Honour", now playing at the Matrix Theatre Company. Robert
Foxworth is Gus (alternating with Granville Van Dusen), a published author
and intellectual, who decides to change his life completely after an
interview with a beautiful, young aspiring writer, Claudia (Kirsten
Potter). Like many men, he suffers a mid-life crisis, believing that if he
exchanges one woman for another (and a younger model at that) he will find
youth again. He tells himself that he is being true to his best self, and
that it was a long time coming, but he is really childishly attempting to
see himself more clearly through another's eyes (something he accuses his
wife of doing). "There were signs" he tells Honour, in order to justify
his betrayal, and it is just unfortunate that she did not see them before
as he does not responsible for any further explanation. And that's that.
Honour bears the brunt of the news with restrained stoicism, coupled with
the occasional heartbroken outburst. Her strong sense of duty caused her
to remain loyal to her husband throughout all those years, perhaps
sacrificing her own deepest potential. She too is a published writer,
although her husband's work always took precedence. Surprisingly, both her
daughter Sophie (Becky Wahlstrom) and the "other woman", Claudia, chide
her for losing herself in her marriage. They both want to idolize her but
are frustrated by her apparent lack of identity.
Director Andrew J. Robinson skillfully leads his actors to the strong
performances that speak to our own private heartaches. Susan Sullivan is
wonderful as the wounded Honour, who may seem a victim but who is
ultimately true to her own convictions. Robert Foxworth is chilling as the
unfeeling husband who seeks passion in another woman. He consumes the
energy of everyone around him and then discards them when they are used
up. His admiration for Claudia (played fiercely by Kirsten Potter) as a
seemingly independent intellectual equal is misguided as neither of them
truly understands what love really is. And what will happen when he tires
of her as well? Becky Wahlstrom is also convincing as the confused, lost
Sophie, caught between exasperation at her mother and resentment toward
her father. Everyone aspires to happiness but do not always know how to
achieve it.
In expressing this angst, playwright Joanna Murray-Smith's dialogue
reflects that of a writer's family and not the way in which most of us
would normally speak. Love is poetic, however, so this style works for the
piece, enhancing the nobility of the messages of sacrifice and commitment.
The main theme of the play is the question of honor - which is more
honorable, remaining loyal to duty and giving yourself over to the
inevitable compromises of love or making yourself your first priority? All
of the characters struggle with this dilemma and in the end, Honour
appears the strongest. Not only does she end up with the clearest sense of
self but also the ability to survive, in spite of initially resisting
change in her established world. She did not choose to live alone, but she
may just triumph over all, fully living up to her name. Emotionally
draining, the play encompasses sorrow and disillusionment and above all,
the difficulties of human relationships. And thus we recognize the truth
in ourselves and the inevitability of the anguish of love.
