Private Lives

Private Lives

Running Time: 2 hrs

Private Lives, penned in a four-day sprint while Noël Coward was in (presumably delightful) convalescence, has been declared by some the quintessential 20th-century comedy. Pause to think about it, and this may be true: How many familiar comedies since – stage, screen, television – share the plotline of a man and a woman who have forsworn each other with bitter vehemence rediscovering their romance, fighting it, giving in to it, and, in the ensuing passion, reigniting all the bitterness of the first go-round? That Amanda Prynne and Elyot Chase walk off arm in arm at play's end may be testament to their growing maturity. Perhaps, relationship warts and all, they are indeed meant to be together?

This is a not-quite-fascinating tale, but Coward's script is typically brilliant – full of great wordplay and song and the odd bit of farce – and as dueling former spouses Amanda and Elyot, Babs George and David Stahl are superb. The pair are ably assisted in this Austin Playhouse production by David Stokey and Christa Kimlicko Jones, who portray the younger, not-so-better halves of Amanda and Elyot after some whirlwind nuptials. Stokey and Kimlicko Jones portray with great flair their characters' naive, vapid, and spluttering self-absorption, alternately amusing and horrifying their more experienced spouses. The quartet, plus Mary Agen Cox as surly French maid Louise, make for an excellent ensemble, mining Coward's lines with comedic aplomb.

In Amanda, George finds the erudite and the excessive, and is equally wonderful in word and action – the instant she realizes ex-husband Elyot is standing not 10 feet away is a theatrical moment to savor. George works her way through Amanda's superficiality to find something more substantial, even sweet, in her character's need to love and be loved. Stahl, dapper, confident, and always keen with the language, makes Elyot quite the duelist. Whether decrying Amanda's foibles or deflating Victor's bravado with slick linguistic dexterity, Stahl is masterful. Still more impressive for the often reserved actor is his ability to fly into a red-hot rage, set off by the most preposterous insignifica. Stahl's Elyot is completely believable through manic farce and moments of real feeling.

Now, these characters aren't the least bit likable: They are selfish and petty and vindictive. Like spoiled children, they fly into fits of pique – even rage – when they don't get their way. Their worldview extends only so far as the midafternoon cocktail they hold in their hands or the attractive escort they cling to on their arms. Given the state of the world in 1930 – the year the play is set – this egotistical myopia borders on the tragic. Given the state of the world in 2004, such a myopia borders on the obscene: What price our eager engagement in a drawing-room comedy during these important days? What defense for reining in one's worldview to accommodate a blinkered, petulant, egotistical splurge in the face of the gathering storm (Naderites take note)?

Yet Noël Coward was well aware of the political machinations of 1930s Europe, even if he penned characters who seem to understand nothing but their own private lives. If we can laugh at their histrionics and pettiness, it is because we know they exist in the champagne bubbles of lives purposefully without purpose. And if these Cowardly characters are not likable, they are still somehow lovable, and like those bursting bubbles of champagne, they offer an occasional effervescence, sparkling in their search for something more meaningful of love.