Zachary Quinto, Aimee Carrero, Graham Phillips, and Calista Flockhart in Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? at Geffen Playhouse. (Photo by Justin Bettman)
Zachary Quinto, Aimee Carrero, Graham Phillips, and Calista Flockhart in Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? at Geffen Playhouse. (Photo by Justin Bettman)

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

Reviewed by V Cate

Geffen Playhouse

Thru May 29

RECOMMENDED

Whether you consider it to be absurd realism or realistic absurdity, one thing is certain: Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is an American theater classic. Albee’s 1962 work focuses on frayed couple Martha and George as they battle through a booze-fueled night of entertaining guests, sifting through delusions, and racking up betrayals. But does this well-trod script still hold up 60 years after its debut performance?

Calista Flockhart and Zachary Quinto inhabit the title roles well. Quinto’s George is robustly intellectual, spiteful, and loving, performed with unerring forward momentum as filtered through a sharp mind. Flockhart meanwhile exhibits a calm autonomy, a visible hunger for acknowledgment, and an emotionalism that ranges smartly from languid to incendiary. Both are spitfires. In tandem, their individual interpretations and joined chemistry make for a unique take on this inveterate couple.

Martha is the 52-year-old daughter of a New England university president. Her wit is perhaps more potent than most or all of the male teachers she is obligated to socialize with, but because of the time period she must rely on her husband not only for any vicarious sensation of success but for emotional and physical intimacy. In all these regards, George has failed her, and her resentment has grown steadily over the course of their 23-year marriage. For his part, George’s resentment has grown at equal pace, facing day after day of enduring emasculation and weaponized disappointment, both of which threaten an identity which is precious to him as a scholar and man of intellect.

Neither character’s needs are being met. Instead, they have developed a series of entangled coping mechanisms, including Martha’s alcoholism, games with secret and complicated rules, and shared stories about their mysterious child.

In place of affection, Martha and George sling barbs. When the insults are good enough, they exchange approval. Their revulsion, well-crafted, has become a love language unique to this couple.

The action all takes place in one, smartly furnished room. Wilson’s Chin’s take on the couple’s living space is befitting both a college professor and an alcoholic housewife. Together with Alejo Vietti’s costumes, the time period is clearly established.

For their part, supporting performers Graham Phillips & Aimee Carrero as the young visiting couple Nick & Honey stand up to the dense performances of Flockhart and Quinto. Their characters are just about as hopeful, desirous, polite – and naive – as they need to be. Philips brings an energy of aspirant libido, and Carrero is both charmingly light and effectively heavy in her performance. Though these two characters are fairly ordinary (Albee describes Honey as “rather plain”), they offer just the right alchemy to ignite something in Martha and George that changes them all. They also help us look back at a past that Martha and George may have trodden. Hope, obligation, repressed grief, and lost opportunity are all important themes.

Widespread patience for lengthy play runtimes may be waning, but these three hours zoom along. Director Gordon Greenberg keeps the momentum chugging, until the characters themselves run out of steam – not just physically exhausted from drinking and fighting until dawn, but emotionally exhausted from over two decades of being worn down by a toxic marriage. The blocking is smart, and the cultivated performances unerringly riveting.

The script is a goldmine of subtext, though honestly the staging doesn’t do much of the mining for you. Instead, it presents a well-honed production without many directorial “hot takes,”, providing the audience with the undiluted source material as clearly as possible. (For instance, some productions lean into exploring George as a homosexual trapped in a heterosexual marriage. This production’s staging only whispers hints that could allude to anything outside of heteronormativity. Albee himself, who was gay, asked audiences not to look too deeply for this specific subtext in the play, but it is this reviewer’s opinion that it enriches the dynamic between all characters.) In this way, the production is less like the 1966 film and more like a divine play from an ancient temple, with the players representing archetypes which hold up a mirror to ourselves and allow us to examine our relationships and ambitions, even when it’s messy.

Both Quinto and Greenberg (in the program) have expressed some optimism about the play’s finale. But whether Martha and George have finally broken a long-standing pattern of mutual abuse and put some core delusions to rest, or whether this is just another night in an unending cycle … that’s up to the audience to decide.

So, does the play still hold up? While certain societal aspects are radically different – the nature of marriage and certain masculine/feminine dynamics – the core of human emotion remains the same. Both from a state of yearning and of loving, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? allows us to look at both our dreams and our relationships with brutal honesty.

Gil Cates Theater at Geffen Playhouse, 10886 Le Conte Ave., Los Angeles CA 90024; Tues – Fri 7:30pm, Sat & Sun 1pm & 7pm; thru May 29. https://geffenplayhouse.org or 310-208-2028. Running time: Three hours with two 10-minute intermissions.