64. THE WAYSIDE MOTOR INN
A.R. Gurney
readily admits that this 1977 play, now being revived at the Signature Theatre
at Pershing Square, was written under the influence of British playwright Alan
Ayckbourn, as in his play HOW THE OTHER HALF LOVES, which uses the same set to
show two stories at the same time. Writing on his website, at argurney.com, he says: “The assumption I make in THE WAYSIDE
MOTOR INN is that since all the rooms in a medium-priced American motel are
virtually the same, why not have several different plots work themselves out
simultaneously within one single motel room standing for many others. If this
sounds needlessly complicated, I tried to make the evening comprehensible by
making the different stories occurring in this room fairly simple and
straightforward.”
Mr.
Gurney hoped to offer an incisive examination of America, with the motel
representing “a generalizing image of transitory American life.” As the play
was rehearsed, however, he realized how difficult the task he’d set for himself
was, since having so many actors inhabiting the same space made it difficult
for them to find the logic in the pauses required as one scene’s dialogue and
action collided with another’s. He observed that the audience was being asked
to watch as he, a juggler with five plots flying about, kept them all in the
air, which ran the risk of losing their interest. In his eyes, the play had
failed because it had been “drowned” in its conceptual framework.
From left: Will Pullen, Jon DeVries, Quincy Dunn-Baker. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
From left: Rebecca Henderson, Will Pullen, Quincy Dunn-Baker. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
Still,
the play, especially in this finely calibrated production directed by Lila
Neugeberger, does hold your interest, and you’re able to appreciate Mr. Gurney’s
cleverness while also being invested in the play’s inner life (or lives). As
far as those lives are concerned, the playwright has kept things simple, making
each plot line essentially familiar and unprovocative; this detracts from the
power of any one set of characters’ individual drama while contributing to the
overall effect of five separate stories intersecting within the same locale, with
only the slightest overlap on several occasions.
Within
the room at the Wayside Inn (a name taken from a famous poem, we’re told),
somewhere near Boston, we meet Frank (Jon DeVries) and Jessie (Lizbeth Mackay),
a couple in their 60s, who’ve come to visit their nearby daughter and see her
new baby; Ray (Quincy Dunn-Baker), a slick sales rep in a three-piece suit, who’s
there on business; the pot smoking Phil (David McElwee) and Sally (Ismenia Mendes), college
students who’ve come for their first night of sex together; Vince (Mark
Kudisch), a middle-aged businessman, and his teenage son, Mark (Will Pullen),
present because Mark is scheduled for an interview for Harvard; Andy (Kelly
AuCoin), a young doctor, and Ruth (Rebecca Henderson), who are going through a
painful divorce after he chose to move elsewhere for career purposes; and Sharon (Jenn Lyon), a pretty chambermaid and onetime hippie on whom Ray
quickly puts the moves.
Jenn Lyon, Quincy Dunn-Baker. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
The
stories of this motley, yet familiar, crew (all of whom are white and without
any ethnic markers) are rife with anxiety, loneliness, alienation, and problems
of communication. There are incidental comic moments, but, in essence, these
are five slices of life, mildly poignant and instantly identifiable, carefully
edited to keep out excessive dramatic encumbrances that might complicate Mr.
Gurney’s structural layout. The acting is generally low-key and naturalistic,
with just as much dramatic tension as needed to sustain interest.
For example,
Frank worries about his heart, which distracts him from the reason for his
visit, and creates subdued friction with his wife, who can’t wait to hold her
grandchild; Frank, who has to reassure his wife on the phone about his
fidelity, immediately begins using his wiles to find a local bed partner, and
then to seduce the interested but also somewhat reluctant Sharon; Vince, a
nightmare of paternal smothering, conflicts with Mark’s wish to avoid
Harvard in favor of a year off to work on cars; Ruth and Andy clash when he tries to gain possession of their family albums;
and Sally, uncomfortable with Phil’s interest in a one-nighter he intends as an
experiment to test their compatibility, isn’t quite as ready to jump into the
sack as he might wish.
The
two-act play enjoys a uniformly capable ensemble in a work that doesn’t make
any specific character more important than any other. The acting is nicely
modulated, emotionally powerful when needed, but always essentially subdued as
part of the overall scheme of things. Andrew Lieberman’s large motel room set (at
least the fourth motel setting in the past two years), with its two double beds
($32 a night!), sliding door to a balcony, glen plaid wallpaper, and pushbutton
TV, resembles what anyone who’s ever been in a motel has seen, and the late
1970s costumes of Kaye Voyce, the lighting of Tyler Micoleau, and the sound
design of Stowe Nelson all contribute to the period ambience.
It’s fun to see a
play set in the not-too-distant past without a cellphone or computer in sight,
and to try to pin the approximate year by what the designers and director
provide. It’s also nice to see a play even the playwright was ready to dismiss
prove itself stageworthy; its problems may remain but, given the
dearth of outstanding playwriting these days, even lesser Gurney is definitely
worth a visit.