This is not a play for the weak of attention span.
Seascape has no special effects, no short scenes, or quick set changes. There are no cheap gimmicks, no sex-drugs-and-rock’n’roll, and not a bit of ‘bathroom humor.’ There are only four characters, and all they do is talk.
Such is Edward Albee’s Seascape, the opener of the Guilford College Department of Theatre Studies’ main stage season. The play, directed by Assistant Professor Lee Soroko, breaks with the traditional choices of Guilford plays. It is neither sexy, nor overtly political. It is subtle, earnest, philosophical, and utterly realistic.
Assuming, of course, that a conversation with a pair of human-sized lizards is a realistic event.
Seascape, which won a Pulitzer Prize in 1975, revolves around a chance meeting between two couples at the beach. The first, Charlie and Nancy (played by Jonathon Vogt and Heidi McIver), is a retired, middle-class married couple. The second couple, Sarah and Leslie (Vita Generalova and Sasha Spoerri), is a pair of suburbanite, expatriate lizards.
Yes, lizards. Human-sized, green-skinned, slinky-moving, English-speaking, married-couple lizards. Lizards who’ve come up from the sea and spend time discussing evolution with their human counterparts with remarkable aplomb.
Needless to say, this play is rather weird. It falls somewhere between the lofty ambitions of the theatre of ideas, and the simpler aim of pleasing a crowd.
Seascape attempts, at least, to blur the line between comedy and commentary. It is a comedy without a trace of slapstick, and a social commentary that uses no satire and little cynicism.
Unfortunately, it does neither very well and ends up leaving the audience terribly unsatisfied and vaguely confused. But this fault lies with the play,
and not with the production.
In fact, Guilford’s production came close to saving the play. It was engaging and surprisingly funny, and strewn with moments of near-glory.
Charlie and Nancy’s relationship illustrates the ‘old married couple’ joke to no end, and McIver could not be more perfect as the nagging old wife, complete with a show-and-tell explanation of breasts. Generalova and Spoerri, too, are amazing as the lizards, moving with eerie reptilian grace.
But it is not a college-kid play, and cannot be. Its storyline and humor are all geared to an older audience, and Seascape cannot cross the age gap, despite the stellar work of the cast and crew.
Seascape’s biggest surprise is its Pulitzer status. Maybe ’75 was a good year for wine, but I’m afraid it was a bad year for theatre.