Sylvia

Reviewed by Maureen Lee Lenker
The Odyssey Theatre
Through December 18^th

A.R. Gurney’s 1995 rom-com Sylvia, which recently received a revival on Broadway starring Matthew Broderick and Annaleigh Ashford, is perhaps an odd concept at first glance. The play tells the story of Greg (Stephen Howard), a man experiencing a mid-life crisis, and the love triangle between him, his wife Kate (Beege Barkette), and the dog he brings home one day, the titular Sylvia (Tanne Frederick). Sylvia is portrayed by a human and she can talk; the dialogue and words are used to express Sylvia’s emotions where we would normally only hear barking, whimpering, and so forth.

Once you get past the initial strangeness of a human being playing a dog (and actually a dog, not a human pretending to be a dog), the play is a delightful meditation on jealously, marriage, and intimacy — all told through the lens of a dog’s disruptive presence in the lives of two empty-nesters. For the most part, Tanne Frederick, doing double duty as director and the title character, has produced a production that delivers on the foibles and charms of the play.

Frederick stands out in particular for her performance as Sylvia. She doesn’t simply play at being a dog, but actually rather quickly transforms into quite a believable furry friend. Her vocal tics and hyper-active physicality quickly suck you into believing she’s a canine. Many of the moments are rightfully played for laughs, but the humor comes largely from Frederick’s subtlety in the role and her perfect rendering of behavior we’ve all witnessed in many dogs before. She brings, by turns, a lovable goofiness, a tender playfulness, a fierce protectiveness, and a genuine sense of loss to Sylvia — a character who inhabits both the limitations and surprising complexities of canine emotion.

The costumes provide Frederick an ample assist as well. Her opening outfit — an oversized furry sweater, brown converse, fingerless gloves, and a mish-mash of pigtails — transform her more effectively into a dog than any silly suit or literal dog costume might. And one of the play’s chief charms is to watch her transformation from street mutt to pampered pup in a series of imaginative, inventive ensembles that suggest canine attributes while allowing her a free range of motion in human apparel.

Frederick has a lovely foil in Stephen Howard as Greg, a soft-spoken man who turns to Sylvia in his desperation to latch on to something in a life that has suddenly begun to feel devoid of meaning. Some of Greg’s choices and his unflagging devotion to Sylvia push the envelope at times (we all go a little crazy when it comes to our pets), but Howard makes Greg a lovable hangdog to complement the high-energy of Frederick’s Sylvia.

As Kate, Beege Barkette paints an adequate picture of his shrewish misunderstood wife, but she relies largely on caricature and surface level choices. In the writing, you see the opportunity for Kate to be a dynamic interesting woman understandably mystified by her husband’s life choices, but Barkette too often leans into Kate’s bitchy tendencies, leaving the audience with an overly one dimensional view of her hatred of Sylvia. Matthew Marcy is hilarious as a fellow dog owner, the bohunk Tom, but his turns as two female characters are too broad in their  strokes.

Mark Kanieff’s set is another high point of the production. From the time you enter the theatre, you’re transported into a chic masterpiece of Manhattan upper middle class interior design. Kanieff’s decision to use all white furniture and rugs not only emphasizes the cold environment Greg has found himself in, but underlines the disruptive, dirty nature of a dog in the space. The whimsical dioramas throughout add a nice touch to the light-hearted comic proceedings of the piece. Carlos Torres’ sound design also expertly uses music to underscore themes and play up transitions, particularly in his delightful selection of dog-related tunes.

The play could easily be passed off as a comedic confection featuring the gimmick of a human playing a talking dog – but as with much of A.R. Gurney’s work, it plumbs the intricacies of marriage and the human heart to say something touching about middle-age, our relationships with our pets, our search for connection, and the hard work of finding our way back to each other. In her third time playing Sylvia and first time directing, Frederick proves you can, in fact, teach an old dog new tricks.

The Odyssey Theatre, 2055 Sepulveda Blvd. Los Angeles; Thurs.-Sat., 8 pm; Sun., 3 pm; Through December 18^th. (800) 838-3006 or www.sylviatheplayinla.com. Running time: 2 hours with one 10-minute intermission.