A piece of art that relies mostly on shock value always runs the risk of losing its power once the shock fades. Yet somehow, after forty years, Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? still stings. Matt Frank’s senior production of the play at Little Theater this weekend is a perfect blend of tragedy and absurdist humor.
If you’ve ever been in a stranger’s house while a family fight is brewing, you know what it’s like to witness this scathing play, which takes another jab at the ever-fragile American dream. Watching strangers bicker can be both unsettling and gratifying, as you sense that other people are finally letting their guards down.
This is the mix of emotions Nick and Honey experience when they step into a house that has turned into a spousal battleground.
Their hosts, George, a college professor and Martha, the daughter of the president at the college where he teaches, are an aging couple who can barely conceal their resentment toward each other. “I would divorce you if you existed,” Martha tells her ineffectual husband as he pops open drinks for the guests. This is a typical zinger between them – half-joke, half-bitter insult.
At first it seems unbelievable how eagerly the two hack away at each other in front of strangers. But after 25 years of marriage, George and Martha’s troubled life has become so insular that they no longer seem aware of what others think.
The younger Nick, a blond, good-looking newcomer to the college faculty, and his mousy wife Honey still hang on to a pretense of happiness. Yet as the play progresses, the cracks beneath the surface of their marriage are exposed as well.
The tension on the cramped single set – a living room strewn with books and knick knacks – builds as George and Martha engage in verbal “games,” attempts to embarrass and expose each other in front of their guests.
The play’s power lies in its use of small details and props. Martha’s last minute shuffling of newspapers and stray clothing under furniture before the guests arrive is both familiar and sad, as it hints at the shame that she hides from others.
In another poignant moment involving props, George picks up an empty bottle and smashes it to pieces against a desk. The symbolism of this gesture is clear – the illusions that the couples project, within their marriages and to others, are breaking down But the interesting question is what happens when the pieces are finally swept away? Can the spouses save their marriage after exposing their own fears, or will they simply make-up and forget the fight ever happened?
This is not an easy play to get right, but Matt Franks and his talented cast do it justice.
Junior Jonah Mitropoulos is nearly pitch-perfect as George, an alternately meek and aggressive man, who never realized his ambition as an academic. Constantly in motion on stage, Mitropoulos captures the deep suffering beneath his character’s cynical surface.
Senior Shinnerrie Jackson also stands out as Martha, an alcoholic woman whose promiscuity and out of control behavior suggest a touch of Borderline Personality Disorder. First-year Zak Fishman and junior Amy Flanagan round out the cast in their quieter roles as Nick and Honey. Both turn in fine performances.
The play’s brilliant dialogue, full of comedic gems, is so often missing from productions at Oberlin. Perhaps, this is because, as Franks points out in his program, “perfomances of the great 20th century playwrights...are lacking [at our College}.”
Instead Oberlin directors often seem to opt for social relevance at the expense of quality.
In many ways Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is a product of its time. When it opened in 1962, the play received a flood of critical and popular acclaim. Yet some vocal critics labeled Albee’s dialogue as too dirty-minded, and ultimately, his masterpiece was denied a Pulitizer prize despite the committee’s vote in its favor.
Today it seems inconceivable that a piece of art would be snubbed for touching on dirty topics. But even to our modern sensibilities this play is still shocking, if only because it exposes us to our own illusions and fears.