
Yesterday we went to the play 'The Maids' at the Writer's Theatre in Glencoe. The production ran 1 hour and 40 minutes with no intermission and the house was sold out.
Now, a few thoughts - one, the venue is at the back of a book store. I say that not to diminish the theater, as it is set up very professionally and is in a separate space - it's not like you're nestled against book shelves or anything.
No, the reason I mention this particular fact is because I felt, in this case, with this particular play, it did a disservice to the drama.
Why?
Well, okay, let me explain where we were sitting and a little bit about the stage.
Glenn and I were in the front row on the far left, but because it was such a small space, everyone in the house had a good seat. However, being so close to the production was a detriment. I was too close to the actors - so close that I didn't get a feel for the overall atmosphere of the play. Does that make sense?
The stage set was a French boudoir with wardrobes that when opened became an integral part of the scene. In an otherwise fairly dark set, the open closets provided bright splashes of hot pink that illuminated the scenery. They were also equipped with mirrors that provided reflections of the actors when their backs were toward the audience.
But - since we were so close, we missed some of this and I couldn't help but keep comparing in my mind the play as it was being done in that space vs. imagining the play being seen at, say, the Steppenwolf's smaller theater. I think had I been in the back row of the theater, I would have hand a much different experience.
Another thing that I found bothersome with the close proximity was the size of one of the actors. She was large -not heavy, I don't mean that - I mean she was just really tall and big. And being so close I felt like she was almost acting on top of us (through not fault of her own, I thought her actual acting was very good).
Lastly, there was one scene where one of the maids picks up a chair and swishes it through the air - Glenn and I both jumped back in our seats - I swear it came within 8 inches of our heads.
What about the play itself?
I thought the play was intriguing, I thought it was well acted. But I couldn't help imagining myself walking up four steps and inserting myself into the middle of the drama as it was going on. I got so carried away with this daydream, being so close to the action, that I began imagining a
Curb Your Enthusiasm episode in which Larry David accidentally drops his playbill (is that what the booklet is called?) on the floor and it slides into the play. Then, as the actors are in conversation, he sidles onto to the stage to retrieve his booklet and mayhem occurs.
I doubt that's the reaction the theater was looking for in their audience.
Here's the text from the Writer's Theatre about The Maids:
When the mistress is away, the maids will play. Two women in service to a younger socialite pass the moments of their day in playacting and fantasy. As the line between fantasy and reality begins to disintegrate, their games take a deadly turn. Jealousy, resentment, sexual tension and murder converge in this 1947 classic French thriller. Jimmy McDermott, one of the city’s most exciting young directors, brings his trademark edginess to this seminally rebellious play.
www.writerstheatre.org