LTVB TAKES STRAIGHTFORWARD APPROACH
TO THE CHILDREN'S HOUR
In 1934, Lillian Hellman’s The Children’s Hour opened to popular and critical acclaim. The story of two schoolteachers’ reputations becoming ruined by a malicious rumor was later banned in Boston and sanitized in its original screen adaptation, released under the title “These Three.” In the Little Theatre of Virginia Beach’s current production, directors Kathy Hinson and Kelly Gilliam make certain choices which cull this interpretation of much of the play’s tension and emphasize the anti-bullying theme inherent in the text. The result presents a strong message, but largely deprives the play of its nuance.
Set during the inter-war period of the 20th
century, The Children’s Hour depicts
two female friends who have struggled to establish an all-girls’ school in New
England. One of the teachers, Karen, is
engaged to Dr. Joe Cardin. Dr. Cardin’s much
younger cousin, Mary, attends the school and Mary’s grandmother, Amelia
Tilford, is a benefactor of the institution.
The other teacher, Martha, permits her aunt Lily to reside and assist at
the school even though the two have a less than harmonious relationship. One day, an argument between Martha and Lily
is overheard by two of the students. Mary manipulates the students into telling her
about the argument, then repeats one of Lily’s statements to Mrs. Tilford, implying
that the teachers are engaged in a lesbian affair. Whether Mary’s accusation is
or should be believed is the essence of the story.
The script calls for girls “from twelve to fourteen years
old,” but while the directors cast middle and high school age actors to play most
of the students, Ms. Hinson and Ms. Gilliam selected an adult, Kylie McKee, to
portray the key role of Mary. That
decision is perhaps understandable, since the part is extremely demanding and LTVB
chose to present this show in the spring during what is arguably the busiest
time of the school year, but it has a definite impact upon the show as a
whole. Ms. McKee’s Mary is credibly and
consistently youthful, and her small frame is well-dressed by costume designer
Kay Burcher to conceal her mature figure.
But despite the combined efforts of actor and costumer, there is no denying
that Ms. McKee simply looks different than the other girls – a fact that is
particularly noticeable in the intimate setting of the Little Theatre. Ms. McKee delivers a strong performance, intense,
sly and manipulative, but because she is patently older than the other
students, her interactions with them are relentlessly bullying. In this production, there is no suggestion
that the other students may admire Mary or that Mary is the popular girl or that
Mary is envied or any of the myriad details that are often presented as the
root of the Mean Girls phenomenon. Here,
Mary is the spoiled brat who bullies everyone around her. The interpretation
works, especially in the critical scenes with Rosalie, well-played by 14 year
old Abby Asimos, but it robs Mary of her complexity.
In this production, two other characters are similarly
simplified. Josette Dubois’ Martha is
almost uniformly angry, demonstrated by her harsh, vehement delivery of her
lines and in her repeated facial grimaces which are often more distracting than
reflective of the character’s inner turmoil.
The interpretation mostly works, as it reinforces the idea – obvious in
this production from the start -- that Martha struggles with her what in the
1930s many would have considered shameful feelings for Karen. Ms. Dubois’ choice to reveal Martha’s true feelings
in the first act rather than to engage in misdirection to suggest that she wants
Dr. Cardin for herself as is often portrayed in this role gives credence to Martha’s
palpable frustration and fury, but it undermines her impassioned speech in the
second act; the “revelation” just does not come as a surprise to us. This Martha is so angry so early and for so
long that we never really believe her to be a multi-faceted individual. We don’t know her, so we don’t really have the opportunity to care
about her … and her final, climactic choice therefore lacks true poignancy.
In the same way, Mary Lou Mahlman’s depiction of Martha’s
aunt, Lily, embraces the flamboyance of Lily’s perception of herself as a theatrical
star, but neglects other aspects which could make Lily more than a mere caricature.
Although Lily taunts Martha about the
latter’s “unnatural” feelings for Karen, in this interpretation Lily possesses
an underlying acceptance of Martha’s lesbianism as well as an acknowledgment of
the way it would be viewed by their society.
The unusual interpretation provides Lily with a reason to separate
herself from the situation instead of supporting the teachers, but it deprives
the show of the added tension present in some productions where Lily is caught between
her self-image as an unconventional woman and the realization that she is
herself deeply vested in the social mores that castigate women who live an alternative lifestyle. The directorial
choice to have Lily recognize Martha’s true feelings also suggests that Mary’s “lie”
is known by at least some to be grounded in truth – and thus undercuts the
playwright’s attempt to show the actual harm that can be caused by baseless
words.
Abbey Ortiz gives a credible and touching performance as
Karen. At the start of the play, we
believe her to be a happy young woman, pleased with her growing business and in
love with her handsome fiancée. We believe
Karen underestimates the power that Mary can manipulate, and Ms. Ortiz’s fine performance evokes our sympathy as her character slowly realizes the extensive damage
that miscalculation caused. The Theater
Babe only wishes that Ms. Ortiz would use more variations in her tone during
her climactic scene. Because it is a
long speech, when it is only strident without other texture to give our aural
senses a break, it loses some of its impact.
As Dr. Cardin, Gregory Dragas delivers a pleasing, natural performance
and we believe that he wants to believe in the teachers unconditionally, even
as his expressed optimism cannot totally mask the doubt he tries to deny.
The set design by Donna Lawheed is beautiful. The floor of the stage represents Mrs.
Tilford’s living room, while the second level depicts the main living area of
the school and its adjoining staircase upon which the eavesdropping students
are ensconced. The set is well-dressed
with period appropriate furniture and when we enter the theater, it is visually
striking. The shape of the set, however,
appears to hinder the movement of the actors.
Because it is two levels and the furniture is large, the set leaves
little free space and the blocking frequently strands one character well upstage of
the other, creating an awkward arrangement that all-too-often emphasizes that these are
actors reciting lines rather than individuals experiencing a moment in
time. The dual levels are never
utilized in the same scene; we do not, for example, witness Mary at school
while her grandmother is simultaneously at home. Because there are only two locations in the
play and the show’s structure would require only one set change in each act, despite
its very attractive design, the set might have better served the show had it
utilized the entirety of the space for each location.
Despite the difficult physicality of the set, Ann Heywood as
Mrs. Tilford neither upstages her colleagues nor permits herself to be
upstaged, and her outstanding and subtle portrayal of Mary’s grandmother is the
highlight of this production. Critics of
the play question why such disastrous consequences would be imposed upon these
well-meaning schoolteachers based only upon the representations of a couple of
kids. Ms. Heywood’s masterful
performance answers that question. Her
Mrs. Tilford is at once an indulgent grandmother, a bastion of propriety, a
protector of innocents and, finally, a shattered soul devastated by the discovery
of her beloved grandchild’s deceit and desperate to make amends. At first Ms. Heywood depicts Mrs. Tilford as
a lenient, loving woman who is not unmindful of Mary’s tendency to exaggerate. Her initial skepticism encourages Mary to
redouble her efforts, and Ms. McKee’s overall convincing performance is at its
best during her scenes with Ms. Heywood.
We observe Mrs. Tilford’s gradual progression from incredulity to fearful
determination to use her influence as a society matron to shelter the students
from the teachers’ “unnatural” behavior and uphold social norms, and it is compelling.
In a change of heart that shows Ms.
Heywood’s exceptional emotional range, we later feel Mrs. Tilford’s genuine remorse and are infuriated by it, even as we realize that Mrs. Tilford is
also a victim of Mary’s manipulations ... and we cannot help but sympathize with the older woman.
Bottom line? The Children’s Hour is a more
complicated tale than the one presented here, but even if this production
leaves you wishing for something more, the performances of Ms. McKee, Ms. Ortiz
and especially Ms. Heywood make it worth the time and ticket price.
© 2016 Hampton Roads Theater Babe. All Rights Reserved.
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