"...spirited and often ruthless. Dürrenmatt satirizes the inherent failure of marriage as a picture of two souls in symbiotic hell"
by Melinda Schupman, BackstageWest, January 29, 2004
The psychotherapist Amy Bloom said, "Marriage is not a ritual or an end. It is a long, intricate, intimate dance together and nothing matters more than your own sense of balance and your choice of partner." In August Strindberg's case, the institution was A Dance of Death, a play in which a husband and wife live in mutual hatred, bound together by the convention itself. Friedrich Dürrenmatt's 1969 dark comedy parodied Strindberg and carried the notion even further into a surreal and almost hallucinogenic world of wicked caricature. The story is thin and filled with contrivances, but the actors for whom he created it have a chance for 90 uninterrupted minutes to practice their craft with gleeful abandon.
The play is a boxing match in 12 rounds, and the principals are introduced as combatants. Joe Garcia is Edgar, a failed military man who has been exiled to a remote island, where the inhabitants ostracize him further because of his abrasive nature. Holly Jeanne is his wife, Alice, a purported actress who believes that marriage destroyed her chances for greatness. The third member of the menage is Travis Michael Holder, playing Kurt, a cousin of Alice's and, it is later learned, her former lover. The bell rings. The action commences.
Each round is titled -- "Conversation Before Dinner" and "Company at Last," for example -- and the battles are spirited and often ruthless. Dürrenmatt satirizes the inherent failure of marriage as a picture of two souls in symbiotic hell -- sometimes nurturing and sometimes vicious, but always hilarious. Edgar and Alice are disdainful of their fellow compatriots, aware of the social life of the post but excluded from it. Edgar has fits that cause him to appear insensible. Sometimes the fits are real, and sometimes they are a ploy to eavesdrop on his wife. She reviles him during them, and, in one instance, sneaks away with Kurt to make love.
Garcia takes full advantage of his preening, pompous captain. Physically agile, he collapses, springs to his feet, dances the ritual dance of the boyars, and generally takes centerstage whenever he appears conscious; actually, sometimes he manages it even though he is frozen in a military salute on the floor. In one classic scene, he devours a dinner, noisily slurping soup and doing things to a bologna that could change a rating from PG to R in a twinkling. Holder and Jeanne are well cast and delightful but are no match for Garcia's eyebrow lifts and ebullient choreography.
The director, Hope Alexander, has an eye for comedy, and her brisk pacing moves the absurdist drama nimbly forward. She also fills in as costume designer Esther Blodgett, and her bio in the program is worth the price of the ticket.
Dürrenmatt's unhappy marriages may be the catalyst for his clever satire, but whatever the motivation, he produces a picture of a 25-year marriage that is both amusing and frightening. Alexander says she is "drawn to theatricality," and her characters' bizarre sparring produces contagious energy that delivers the goods.