by Sarah Wright
Ten years ago playwright A. R. Gurney told an interviewer his favorite line from his play Sylvia was “Read the Odyssey some time.” Part of Sylvia’s monologue in the second act, when the dog-woman fears being sent to the suburbs, it is a memorable line.
The Greek mythology reference makes complete sense, too, given how Odysseus’s loyal dog Argos recognized his master when he finally returned to Ithaca. In Sylvia though, it seems the more operative line is the one that defines “the dangerous years” as “the ones between the first hint of retirement and the first whiff of the nursing home.”
When Greg brings Sylvia (Erica Knight) home, the Labradoodle gets a cool reception from his wife Kate (Ellie Gottwald). Almost immediately, Sylvia and Kate are competing for Greg’s attention and affection.
(Before its theatrical debut, Sylvia was rejected by producers who felt a woman playing a dog might be problematic. Gurney said he never meant to write a sexist play; Sylvia was simply about a man’s connection with an animal.)
As the canine coup continues, one can easily imagine Kate’s consternation when Greg unilaterally expands the family. Not only does Kate want nothing to do with Sylvia, she makes her displeasure known by intentionally referring to the poodle mix as “Saliva.”
After all, Kate and Greg’s childrearing days are behind them. Their kids are now adulting out in the real world. And Kate wants to pursue a teaching opportunity in London. Who can blame her?
Still Sylvia’s boundless energy revitalizes Greg. As their connection deepens, the marital bond between Greg and Kate frays. Indeed, Kate confides as much in her friend Phyllis (Amy Griffin), then seeks marriage counseling from an androgynous character with a unisex name, Leslie (also Amy Griffin).
That’s not all, though. While Kate consults with Phyllis, Greg meets a fellow dog owner in the park. Tom (Amy Griffin again) is a tough guy whose dog “Bowser” takes notice of Sylvia, too. Tom tells Greg he should get Sylvia spayed, which he does. If nothing else, Greg realizes he is not alone in his new-found affection for his four-legged friend.
Meanwhile, Sylvia carries on as any stray would. She bonds quickly with Greg even as she disobeys Kate’s seemingly silly house rules. With a roof now over her head, better food security, health care, and a devoted owner, Sylvia is living large on Fifth Avenue.
Sylvia is also a feisty creature. For irony’s sake, she curses at stray cats. At another point, she humps Phyllis’s leg and sniffs her crotch. Then she’s tormenting Kate all over again. Sure, Sylvia is a home-wrecker, but not at all like in “The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?”
This play is a comedy, pure and simple. And no one knows this better than the entire cast. Credit to director Abbey O’Brien for drawing out excellent performances especially from Knight, whose canine acting chops and physical comedy are by far best in show. Knight is also irrepressibly hilarious as a foul-mouthed dog. Swearing was already cool, but cross-species swearing: sublime.
Ditto for Griffin playing three different roles. She utters the bitchiest line of the whole play when Phyllis observes, “I think all men should be Republicans, Kate. It seems to be good for their prostate.” Hysterical, right?
Not only this, Griffin’s intense facial expressions are reminiscent of Lucille Ball: always great for laughs. For instance, Griffin totally owns the counseling session scene. It even made me think of the Emmy-nominated show “Shrinking,” where the therapist becomes wildly unfiltered.
Later as the second act begins, Kate and Greg have both learned more about themselves personally and professionally. Together they embark on their own third acts in life.
Sylvia leaves her mark, too, as all dogs do. In this play, an imprint begets a détente, which leads to a new beginning. Like Sue Halpern’s charming book A Dog Walks Into a Nursing Home, Gurney’s play is also a revelation.
Likewise, Halpern only got a dog after her daughter left for college and her husband and environmental activist Bill McKibben was traveling a great deal. As in Sylvia, Halpern’s dog was a Labradoodle, too.
Sylvia is playing at the Theatre Workshop of Nantucket through October 5: tickets at TheatreNantucket.org. Don’t miss it!
