Theatre in Review: Tryst (Irish Repertory Theatre)

	Andrea Maulella. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

If you're in the mood for a summer stock experience but don't want to brave the wilds of Connecticut or New Jersey, you could drop in on Tryst. Rather mysteriously, the Irish Rep has chosen to revive this two-hander romantic thriller by the English playwright Karoline Leach, which ran for a couple of months Off Broadway in 2006. Why, I cannot say; perhaps they felt their subscribers needed a juicy potboiler for the hot summer months. In any event, that's what they got. The script features big scenes, big emotions, and plot reversals aplenty; it's set in 1910, and, for most of its running time, it could have been written then, too.

Meet the all-too-ironically named George Love. A once-handsome, no-longer-young professional cad, he makes his living by persuading spinsters with tidy nest eggs to marry him. On the honeymoon, he gives them one memorable night of love before absconding with their savings. As he tells us, he's got it down to a science: He's seeking out "the sort of face that belongs to the sort of woman who teaches piano or serves tea or issues library books." He's also looking for any hints that she has "a few quid stashed away."

His sets his sights on Adelaide Pinchin, who toils all day in the back room of a milliner's shop, then spends her nights at home, reading and playing cards with her parents. She may not sparkle in the looks or personality departments, but among her assets are a 50-pound inheritance and a diamond brooch that may be worth twice that.

So starved for love is Amelia that a modest luncheon and a handful of compliments are all that George needs to break down her defenses. Within 24 hours, she agrees to an elopement to the seaside. Once there, ensconced in a seedy vacation boarding house, however, George's time-tested plan starts to unravel. For one thing, Amelia is strangely resistant to his romantic advances. For another, she's gifted with a sharp eye for the false detail. And, to his horror, George finds himself becoming emotionally engaged with this strange creature -- who sees right through him yet has a detailed plan for their future together.

It's an inherently dramatic situation, and, by all rights, it should make for a gripping little power struggle. But this is the second time I've seen Tryst -- like this production, the 2006 edition was staged by Joe Brancato -- and it stubbornly refuses to deliver on the suspense that it promises. The problem, I think, is the play's construction, which is as mechanical as any melodrama of the Edwardian era. The characters are little more than the author's puppets, designed to express certain emotions at certain predetermined points. (Each predictably gets an aria detailing his/her childhood traumas.) Improbably, the action unfolds over the course of two or three days, during which George and Amelia experience a lifetime's worth of feelings -- but the reversals and epiphanies come at such a rapid clip that they simply beggar belief.

Oddly, Brancato's previous staging, featuring a dapper Maxwell Caulfield and a prim-but-not-unattractive Amelia Campbell -- both underplaying skillfully -- worked rather better. From the first line, Mark Shanahan's George has such a twitchy, sweaty quality that you have to wonder if he's in the right line of work; one look at him and even the most desperate lady would most likely flee in the other direction. (Shanahan also adopts a posh voice that unfortunately makes him sound like Dudley Do-Right.) As Adelaide, the attractive Andrea Maulella has been given a look of cruel severity; she adds to the effect with a number of tense, neurotic gestures, constantly wringing her hands and occasionally slapping herself in disapproval. In general, there's an awful lot of fidgeting on the Irish Rep stage, a small venue where less is usually more.

It all builds to a big blowout confrontation, followed by a twist finale, in which George takes desperate measures to preserve his freedom. Both actors partner well in the climactic scenes, but it's too late to care about either character, and the unsatisfying finale only underscores the fact that Tryst is trapped in a no-man's-land between suspense for the fun of it and a darker, more serious examination of loveless lives.

If anything, the production has a superabundance of atmosphere. Michael Schweikardt's setting features a number of grim-looking scenic panels on which have been printed images of drab London streets; this arrangement spins around to reveal a suitably squalid boardinghouse bedroom. The lighting, by Martin Vreeland, is extremely dim in the opening scenes, and one's vision is further compromised by the clouds of fog emanating from stage right. Alejo Vietti's costumes include a couple of persuasively plain outfits for Adelaide, and some lovely examples of millinery. Johnna Doty's sound design blends a number of fine effects with less-welcome, and almost constant, musical underscoring, which has the effect of making Tryst only seem more like the B-picture material that it is.

Tryst was very wellreceived by the audience on the night I attended -- well, it was opening night -- so it may have crowd-pleasing qualities that are beyond my ken. (It has been fairly widely produced in regional theatres.) But for a theatre that routinely produces the works of Shaw, Wilde, O'Neill and many fine contemporary Irish playwrights, this is a pretty weak cup of tea.--David Barbour