A Delicate Balance

Reviewed by Pauline Adamek

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In Edward Albee’s first (of three) Pulitzer-prize winning plays (also including Seascape (1975) and Three Tall Women (1994), booze ever present and consumed, even at dawn. Naturally, the alcohol lubricates the conversation and so we watch the social exchange of this domestic drama grow increasingly feral as the story progresses.

A disillusioned and wealthy older married couple Agnes (Susan Sullivan) and Tobias (David Selby) share their upper-middle-class suburban home with unseen servants and a permanent houseguest — Agnes’ unpredictable and sharp-tongued alcoholic sister, Claire (O-Lan Jones). The household’s precarious equilibrium is rocked one evening by the unexpected appearance of lifelong family friends Harry (Mark Costello) and Edna (Lily Knight). Fellow empty nesters, the nervy and distraught pair appears to be suffering from some kind of free-floating anxiety. Fleeing an unnamed terror, they beg to stay the night. When Agnes and Tobias’s bitter 36-year-old daughter Julia (Deborah Puette) returns home following the collapse of her fourth marriage, she finds her room occupied by Harry and Edna, who refuse to leave. Histrionics ensue.

Incidentally, one of Albee’s earlier (and best-known) plays, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, was selected for the 1963 Pulitzer Prize by the award’s drama jury, but was overruled by the advisory committee, which elected not to give a drama award at all that year. And though A Delicate Balance thoroughly earned that prestigious award, there remains speculation that it was awarded the Pulitzer as a consolation for the earlier rebuff. Call it a “pity Pulitzer,” if you will.

As in Virginia Woolf, Albee examines the marriage of a middle-aged couple, scrutinizing the destructive patterns of long-term relationships — the goading banter, the prickly conversations, the provocative digs, the ugly point-scoring, the dredging up of the past, the scathing sarcasm that threatens to boil over into rage. While our central couple’s marriage barely remains intact, their daughter is facing her fourth divorce.

An existential crisis shimmers above the surface of this sometimes caustically funny family drama, and Albee proves a master of excavating deep layers of dysfunction through meaty, almost novelistic speeches. The demanding and complex rhythms, patterns and energy that underpin the dialogue give the play its musicality. Like a symphonic blend of instruments, the actors perform in harmony in various combinations (as a trio, quartet or quintet, and so on).

Then there’s the maestro — Robin Larsen — who directs this brilliant play superbly. Her characters, garbed in neutral colors of creams and grays, populate a plain, beige set representing this tastefully appointed, mid-century modern home, surrounded by bony trees festooned with dead leaves. (Scenic design is beautifully rendered by Tom Buderwitz, costumes by Dianne K. Graebner.) This deliberately blank setting provides the foil for all the vivid colors that can be found in the intense dialogue.

Extracting astoundingly fine performances from the entire cast of six, Larsen’s also reunites TV stars Sullivan and Selby, who played husband and wife on the popular soap Falcon Crest 25 years ago.

As the browbeaten father Tobias, Selby gives a breathtaking performance, most evident in his two important speeches. The first in Act 1 tells the riveting tale of a feral cat he once owned, and how he came to realize that the feline could no longer tolerate him. The parallels between that prickly relationship and his own disintegrating marriage are easily drawn.

The second speech, in Act 3, forms the climax of the play and has the entire audience holding its breath. Selby’s character just goes off, like a furious fireworks display, ranting and beseeching. It’s odd because Selby is a character actor who gives a rather mannered performance, and so his explosion is almost indefinable, inexplicable, and my jaw was dropped throughout. I was so undone by this closing speech that my heart nearly broke watching his grief-stricken, impassioned outpouring.

Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd.
W.L.A.; Wed.-Sun. (schedule varies, check website for dates and times); through June 15. (310) 477-2055 ext. 2, www.odysseytheatre.com