The Goat or, Who Is Sylvia?

The State Theatre of South Australia’s production of Edward Albee’s The Goat or, Who is Sylvia, directed by Mitchell Butel, and featuring a stellar cast and crew, is light, bright, funny, and highly entertaining. Observing Aristotle’s dramatic ‘Unities’ of continual time, place, and action, the drama takes place over one day in the living room of wealthy upper-middle class American couple, Martin and Stevie, somewhere in America; probably on the east coast but not definite re location (nor accents). The living room, designed by Jeremy Allen, is vast and minimalistic, large white walls with a wooden beam ceiling, an internal dining room, large windows looking out to an outdoor veranda, eclectic pieces of furniture and modern art, framed within large wooden panels spanning the proscenium arch of the theatre, all emphasizing the picaresque aspect of this interpretation – a painting, photograph, or cartoon come to life. The bright and colourful costumes by Ailsa Patterson complement this bright and colourful heightened world. It’s all very impressive, even though it doesn’t capture the claustrophobic world that is so essential to the plays of Edward Albee, including Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, A Delicate Balance, and Three Tall Women; in fact, it boldly subverts it, along with several other things.

Martin (Nathan Page) is a highly successful American architect who, in the first scene, is being interviewed by his best friend and business colleague, Ross (Mark Saturno). During this conversation, Martin confesses that he has fallen in love – with a goat – ‘Sylvia’. Ross is understandably disgusted and writes a letter to Martin’s wife, Stevie (Claudia Karvan). She and their ‘gay’ son, Billy (Yazeed Daher) confront Martin in a devastating furniture breaking scene. This is followed by a reconciliation scene between father and son, which includes a kiss, witnessed by Ross. ‘What’s wrong with you people?’ screams the outraged Ross. The answer is not what you may think. A redefinition of love, tolerance, and liberalism, with which you are allowed to agree or disagree. The play climaxes, in true Greek tragedy style with the entrance of a bloody Stevie, carrying the carcass of the dead Sylvia, whom she has butchered.

Sorry about the spoilers, but unlike 2002 when this play was first produced, there have now been several productions of The Goat and its subject matter is well known; at least to avid theatre goers. Plus – this production has virtually already sold out. Considering the current economic climate, and with tickets ranging between $30-$95, this is no small feat, with many already aware of what they may be seeing. However, as Albee stated, if you think this play is just about bestiality you have completely missed the point. You are being deliberately challenged on several levels, primarily on what you will and will not tolerate in this neo-liberal world. As a point of reference, in 2002 ‘same sex marriage’ was something still taboo; very different now in 2023 with all its ‘woke’ fluidity re gender and sexual identity. Progress? Some would say ‘Yes’, and others would say ‘No’. And if you think that bestiality and homophobia doesn’t exist, you are very much mistaken; it’s all part of being human. Not too sure how Albee would have responded to these modern times. As this play emphasises, Albee hated labels. He once controversially said, ‘I am a writer who happens to be ‘gay’; I am not a ‘gay’ writer’. There is a difference.

This production is lively, fast paced, and loud, from the very beginning to the end; the acting is presentational and demonstrative, with a lot of lines delivered out front to the audience. This may sound like negative criticism, but it’s not; this a complete re-imagining or re-invention of Albee’s 2002 shocker about love and neo-liberalism; played more like a satiric comedy-of-manners than a modern American tragedy. Judging by laughs and rapturous applause by the opening night audience many people were thoroughly entertained and amused by the on-stage antics.

Entertaining and energetic as this production is, nonetheless, the more serious and tragic aspect of this controversial play were somewhat lost. Albee’s layer of Greek tragedy is to a large extent negated in preference for quirky laughs. You laugh at the characters’ various foibles (Oh, how disgusting – hoh-hoh – thank God that’s not me), rather than laugh or feel with them. Everything is at such a high pitch from the start that when the emotional collapse comes it doesn’t really register because the whole play has been set at such a hysterical level, or the big emotional moments don’t truly land because they are quickly covered by a laugh. The actors are not given the time or chance to register the depth; they have to push on to the next moment. For example, when Stevie collapses to the floor in a howl of emotional rage and pain it’s quickly covered with a quip; the audience laughs. Was the howl real? Was the pain real? Maybe not. The pain and depth aren’t given a chance to register. When Ross discovers Martin and Billy kissing, instead of a truly horrified and disgusted ‘Oh, no’, we get a delightful comic growl ‘Ooooh, nooo’. Again – the audience laughs. Entertaining – yes; funny – yes; moving and poignant – no. This is no American tragedy, more like ‘Will and Grace’ meets ‘I Love Lucy’. Albee’s acerbic lines are delivered more like cynical quips, designed to get a laugh rather than coming from a place of genuine pain and bafflement, and designed to hurt. Emotions are more like high-pitched melodramatic bleats with accompanying supplicating waving hands and arms. It’s all highly engaging – if a bit questionable.

Maybe this heightened style is deliberate. As said, it is all very demonstrative and presentational, emphasized by the set, costumes, and acting. Subsequently, this re-imagining of Albee’s The Goat is more about the ‘performance’ of sexual identity and neo-liberalism, rather than anything associated with either naturalism or Greek tragedy. Maybe this how this 2002 play can survive in 2023, emphasising its ridiculous satiric layer rather than the tragic depth. If so – it is highly successful.

As may be perceived, I am a little torn. On one hand I fully support the re-invention of this 2002 play; on the other hand, I felt a little cheated. I must confess, however, that this is the third professional production of The Goat I have seen, including the original Broadway production with Bill Pullman and Mercedes Ruehl. The original production was more naturalistic, uncomfortably amusing and a lot more emotionally painful and shattering - a rip-roaring rollercoaster. This new production is more rip-roaring comedy than tragedy; funny – yes; tragic – no. But, as Albee said regarding The Goat, you can make up your own minds, and judge for yourself.

Tony Knight

Photographer: Matt Byrne