Theatre Three Presents Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? by Edward Albee
Directed by Blake Hackler
My thoughts on Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? at Theatre Three…or does her heart belong to Daddy?
Sitting through Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is a bit like getting on a roller coaster that you know is going to scare the bejesus out of you, but you’re strapped in, and you know it is impossible to get off. Not that you will want to get off, as Virginia Woolf at Theatre Three is just about as perfect as it can get. It is at once scary, witty, challenging, intelligent, and visceral. Every biting remark, every awkward situation, every sexual encounter, every violent confrontation, every alcohol saturated moment feels convincing. It’s staring through a window at your alcoholic neighbors that you don’t care for, but find compelling, nonetheless.
Albee’s play about a deeply troubled marriage (or is it two troubled marriages?) provides the perfect vehicle for four outstanding performances directed with a firm, assured hand by Blake Hackler, who keeps most of the scenes downstage, making them feel even more intimate. Olivia Cinquepalmi as Honey and Felipe Carrasco as Nick are the young midwestern married couple who unwittingly step into George and Martha’s booze and barb filled lion’s den. At first, the couple seems to be there to gain our sympathy and to be a polar opposite of George and Martha’s marriage. However, as the alcohol starts to flow and inhibitions are broken down, it becomes apparent that they are not as carefree as they appear to be. Cinquepalmi’s Honey is the most endearing of the four characters. Initially, Cinquepalmi comes across as a sort of midwestern Gidget, upbeat and cheerful, even in a socially awkward situation, but as the evening progresses, and Honey begins to get increasingly inebriated, Cinquepalmi skillfully reveals the scarred woman beneath the façade of simplicity, and Cinquepalmi’s transition from tipsy to on the bathroom floor drunk is nothing short of an acting marvel. Felipe Carrasco’s Nick in those high waisted pants, a bit of genius from Costume Designer Nicole Alvarez, initially appears to be a rather innocuous academic and harmless. This Idea is soon put to bed (pun intended) as we watch him become rather egotistical and overly confident fueled by alcohol. Nick becomes George’s whipping boy and Martha’s sexual plaything. Carrasco shows his most impressive range when he can no longer take George’s incessant ribbing and bursts into a rage that is frighteningly realistic. Also, when he must sit quietly enduring Martha’s insults about his sexual performance, his expression alone conveys the confusion and hurt he feels. As George, Jeffrey Schmidt looks like a college professor from Central Casting. But looks are deceptive, and beneath that cardigan sweater lurks a soul so abused and tortured that he can do nothing but return the abuse and torture he has experienced for the past 23 years. George married Martha, the daughter of the president of the college where he teaches. Martha never misses a chance to degrade George or to compare him to her successful father. George is adept at returning Martha’s insults and constantly reminds her that she is six years older than he as their drunken disparagements fly back and forth like a tennis volley. George may be even crueler than Martha, as he is the one who invents “party games” that are meant to destroy rather than amuse. Schmidt makes George a powerful and intimidating presence, a bourbon swilling Mephistopheles, but, who in his gentler scenes, can even evoke pity. As Martha, Christie Vela, gives a tour de force performance. Her Martha rules the stage. With her shoes off she is ready for physical or verbal combat and her vitriolic comments land like guided missiles whether they are aimed at George or Nick. Martha is part harridan, part coquette, and one hundred percent alcoholic. She is a woman with unanswered questions. Does she really love the father whom she constantly holds over George’s head or is she equally intimidated by him and did his treatment of her early on influence her abusive personality? Vela moves about the stage like an intoxicated cat, perching here and there stalking her prey. Vela is excellent being the loudmouthed harpy, but in her quieter moments she is extraordinary. In a scene near the end of the play, she recalls a time when their son broke his arm in a soliloquy that is so beautifully done that it becomes almost Shakespearean in nature and when the devastating secret of their marriage is revealed by George, Vela’s Martha becomes so pitifully vulnerable that we almost forgive her past transgressions.
I would be remiss not to mention the terrific multi-level set by Scott Osborne that is somewhere between a bibliophile’s dream and a housekeeper’s nightmare and the exquisite lighting of Jacob Hughes who paints the stage with shadows and light that suggest the Shadowland in which these four characters hide from the truth.
Blake Hackler’s Virgina Woolf at Theatre Three is an epic roller coaster from which you may emerge a little bumped and bruised, but the performances of these actors, will make you oh so glad you took the ride.
