The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?
play! Theatre, through Feb. 10; Running time: 1 hr, 30 min
“Does nobody understand what happened!? … Why can’t anyone understand this?”
This amazing play is about a thing that cannot be understood. A violation that is outside the realm of expectation or preparation or comprehension. And in a time when “taboo” seems increasingly nonexistent, when “shock value” seems no longer achievable, when “desensitized” is a common denominator, Edward Albee has found a final frontier. Perversion – sexual, emotional, and intellectual perversion. The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia? is about a man who is in love with a goat. Sounds funny, eh? It is funny. It is hilarious, and it is a modern tragedy of ancient Greek proportions. The undeniable hilarity of the situation makes it all the more sickening as you begin to understand that this story will not end well.
Martin, a man at the pinnacle of his career, falls in love with a goat. This is only the second time he has ever fallen in love. The first time was with his wife, Stevie, with whom he has had a perfect marriage. Not a “seemingly” perfect marriage. Not the kind of externally perfect, internally rotten marriage that modern thought loves to expose. This was an actually perfect marriage, loving and witty and committed. Until one bucolic day when Martin takes a trip to the country.
This play is about lives being destroyed. About things coming so far apart that they can never be put back together. The thing with destruction is that, though the whole is broken, the pieces still exist. At one furious point, Stevie breaks a painting over the back of a chair. Martin says, “That was my mother’s painting.” Stevie replies, “It still is!”
Incredibly, bestiality is not the most disturbing idea in Albee’s awe-inducing tale. By the final act of this tragedy, we are presented with anecdotes and evidence of other kinds of perversion. Arousal that crosses all lines anyone might ever hope to draw. And yet the play makes one consider the humanity of it rather than the monstrosity. Martin, pleading with those around him, asks, “Is there anything anyone doesn’t get off on, whether we admit it or not – whether we know it or not?” The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia? asks an audience to consider things that are entirely uncomfortable. To admit their existence.
Bully for Different Stages both for bringing this brave play to Austin and for laying down such a fine production of it. Norman Blumensaadt’s keen direction achieves the difficult blend of heightened emotion and rapid-fire comedic timing. His best move was to cast Rebecca Robinson as Stevie and Tom Chamberlain as Martin. This show is worth going to simply to watch these two actors duel it out on stage. Chamberlain’s performance is driven by the humility and confusion of a man who has hurt all those people he most cares about. He makes one hear and consider things that are not considerable. Robinson is Austin’s Bebe Neuwirth. She is gorgeous, physically gifted (her jealous impersonations of Sylvia are a highlight of the play), and she turns in a powerhouse performance as Stevie the scorned wife. Robinson gets a laugh with almost every line she delivers, and yet not for one second does she let go of the ferocious engine driving her character. The tragedy of this play is galvanized by the strength of Robinson’s performance. The supporting performances are not on par with Robinson and Chamberlain. Frank Benge plays Ross, Martin’s best friend, and his take is heavy on the caustic side. I found myself wondering why on Earth Martin would confess sensitive information to this guy apart from the obvious expositional needs. Trey Deason plays Billy, the son of Martin and Stevie. Deason’s performance borders on immature; he could barely keep a straight face anytime he said the word “fuck” (which was often). However, he does an excellent job of delivering the last line of the play – one of the finest last lines in the whole history of last lines. It is a thrilling, crushing end. Albee has created an intellectual car wreck, and Different Stages has skillfully executed it. You won’t be able to tear your eyes away.
This article appears in February 2 • 2007.