Sylvia

Sylvia, written in his 50s is similarly buoyant and funny, but his characters, Kate and Greg, are facing middle-life rather than old age. Their kids are off their hands, they’ve moved to a city apartment and Kate is about to take up a career that has been ‘on hold’. Greg, on the other hand, is frustrated with the growing constraints of his job. He is restless where Kate is excited. Then, one afternoon in the park, Greg finds Sylvia, a frolicky stray dog (played by a woman). Greg is besotted! Kate is not! And her objections, at this time in their lives, are reasonable!

Sylvia is about how relationships change and grow and how to navigate the rocky bits – even if the rocky bits are exacerbated by a sassy female dog who talks! That funny doggy dialogue and canine behaviour tempers Gurney’s message – that is still relevant, and funny, thirty years later.

Director Moja Band highlights the effects that the arrival of an unexpected, affectionate, articulate stray dog can have on a marriage. She keeps the pace – and the actors – moving quickly, allowing the humour and the social implications to blend seamlessly. Wayne Chee’s wide, minimalist set and clever lighting allows Band space to block action that defines the characters as clearly as the dialogue that explains them.

Margareta Moir is a very lively and expressive Sylvia. This role demands real physical fitness, flexibility, and some understanding and observation of doggy habits. As an experienced dog minder, Moir “knows dogs” – and she brings that experience to play in creating a Sylvia that combines exuberance, cheekiness, intelligence … and cunning. She is in every moment, constantly aware, seldom still, full of mischief that charms Greg and the audience – but irritates Kate.

Justin Corcoran, as Greg, matches Moir’s energy in a performance that is thoughtful, believable, physical – and skilfully timed. He finds the different dimensions of the character: concern about change; dissatisfaction with work; support for Kate’s new roles; and the welcome distraction of a needy, affectionate canine. Sylvia revives his self-confidence, giving him a sense of purpose – which Corcoran embraces with joy and energetic verve.

Brooke Davidson plays a stable, motivated, determined Kate keen at last to make use of the courses she has been taking while bringing up the children. Her Kate is articulate, direct, happy with the new pace and variety in their lives, and apprehensive about the ructions Sylvia is causing – to her life and her marriage. Davidson’s Kate moves and speaks precisely, often with a wry smile and a twinkle in her eyes that suggests the depth of her love for Greg.

Both actors establish the underlying strength of their characters’ relationship through slight pauses, raised eyebrows, a telling smile or a quick, shared, contemplative moment. It is not easy to do this in a comedy and they and they, and their director, are to be congratulated on how cleverly it has been achieved.

Richard Littlehales plays the three characters that Gurney uses to “influence” the situation. Tom is a dog owner with a ready store of advice for Greg on dog ownership and canine psychology. Phyllis, Kate’s old school friend, is a society matron whom Sylvia welcomes a little too physically! And Leslie is the psychologist Kate turns to in despair. Littlehales gently caricatures all three, extending the humour with Gurney’s mild, cynical dialogue.

Sylvia is funny play about a dog played by a woman – it is also, as Gurney suggested in an interview in 1997 “a timely message about the need to connect in an increasingly alien and impersonal world”. A message Moja Band and her cast make clearly and humorously in this well directed production.

Carol Wimmer