Bad People Doing Bad Things

In the early Nineties, Seinfeld revolutionized television comedy with a single motto: “No hugging, no learning.” In their updated version of Noël Coward’s Private Lives, Bandwagon Arts gives audiences plenty of hugging and kissing and general canoodling, but never fear: There’s absolutely no learning going on with these characters. 

I mention Seinfeld not only because there’s an age-gap relationship in this short and farcical play, but also because it’s a close tonal match for the awful things done by awful people onstage at Ground Floor Theatre. It doesn’t help when the main male character, Elyot, is played by Baron Ryan in a nebbish, Seinfeldian manner. His curly mop of hair and naked insecurities, his wry turns of phrase and immediate disdain for everyone and everything, make one almost expect a wacky neighbor to turn up at any moment. But who actually shows up is Elyot’s ex-wife Amanda (Vivian Noble). In a strange twist of fate, both Elyot and Amanda are honeymooning with their new spouses at the same hotel. Jealousies flare. Distaste and desire meld together. And it all occurs with wickedly sharp dialogue that blends the timeless elements of Coward’s 1930 text with modern concerns.

Producer/adapter/director/sound designer Benajah T. Baskin updated Coward’s script for the current era. The work just entered public domain this month, and Baskin went ham. His timely additions – replacing live bands with Sabrina Carpenter-obsessed DJs, smoothing over offenses not with cigarettes but with TikToks – actually serve to show the perennial nature of the script. Love is and always will be a mystery. Coward captured that sentiment almost a hundred years ago. Baskin illuminates it now.

Even the script elements that do remain mired in antiquity, like casual violence between lovers, play so fully into the absurd that it somehow works. Susannah Crowell’s impeccable fight choreography may be the key to that success. There’s only so much actors can do onstage to safely evoke physical confrontations. Crowell has managed to make it clear that no one is actually being struck, that there’s no real hair-ripping or shin-kicking, but the actors sell the scenes with perfectly timed thumps and bumps. The sudden noise is visceral and shocking. The over-the-top movements? Undeniably hilarious. 

The entire four-person cast leans into the humor. As Elyot’s new wife Sibyl, Bella Monette plays every bit the incredibly young ingénue (yes, this is the age gap), gratingly coquettish and needy.  Noble’s Amanda at first seems in stark opposition to Monette’s desperation. Amanda appears wise and wronged before she reveals an uncanny need to gloss over any unpleasantness. At least, until the inevitable eruption, one that comes when people trick themselves into believing they can tamp down negativity. Rounding out the love quadrangle is Tony Nielson’s Victor. He’d almost be the most sympathetic, if not for his constant tendency to solve every problem by threatening brute force. Instead, Victor is the epitome of hollow masculinity, all bluster and empty threats. I lost count of how often he said he’d punch Elyot’s head off, but was there any follow-through? Of course not! Nielson performs the role with a putzy charm, acting as a perfect foil to Ryan’s twitchy verbosity. 

These sitcom caricatures, with their wide gestures and wider glances, make Private Lives a reassuringly familiar experience. Audience reaction could vary depending on what, exactly, their TV viewing habits suggest. Folks who gravitate toward Larry David-esque absurdism and discomfort, who are totally at ease watching the wrong choice made over and over again? This will be food for their souls. Audiences who need stories wrapped in a neat package topped with an obvious moral? Maybe steer clear. Go watch Full House reruns and leave this to my fellow black-hearted cronies.

This article appears in March 13 • 2026.