Energy is at the center of “In the Next Room, or the Vibrator Play,” in an impressive new production at Silver Spring Stage. As the subtitle might suggest, some of that energy is used for a certain device that is used to hilarious, and transformative, effect onstage. The company’s production does full credit to this intellectually rich, profoundly entertaining show.
Written by Sarah Ruhl, and first produced in 2009, “In the Next Room” opens in a general time and place – in the 1880s, in a prosperous spa town outside New York City. It is after the Civil War, and while the recent invention of electricity has revolutionized daily life, enlightenment has yet to disrupt the firmly implanted morays of the Victoria era.
The story opens on Catherine Givings (Emily H. Gibson), a young woman, introducing her newborn to the house’s new electric lights. Her husband, Dr. Givings (Matt J. Bannister), is a man of science and an acolyte of everything electrical, an admiration that extends to having Edison’s portrait in his examination room, dubbed “the next room” for propriety’s sake. His admiration for electricity further extends to his belief in a new treatment, “electrical massage,” performed with a vibrating device powered by electricity. Early in the first act, we see him prescribe this treatment to his troubled new patient, Sabrina Daldry (Juliet Lloyd), whom he diagnoses with hysteria. Givings’ swift diagnosis and the almost comical paternalism of Sabrina’s husband (Jim Adams) underline the patriarchal norms the play will dissect. “Her condition has been a great source of anguish for me,” Mr. Daldry admits. “Oh, and for her as well,” he remembers to add.
… [an] intellectually rich, profoundly entertaining show.
The treatment scenes, repeated throughout the show, are a perfectly choreographed display of Victorian manners. Mary Wakefield’s layered costuming leaves women fully clothed even in their undergarments, and chaperoned further by the presence of Dr. Givings’ capable, if somewhat skeptical, assistant, Annie (Erica Smith). Dr. Givings’ clinical description of the “paroxysms” he evokes from patients show that he only views the treatment from a physiological standpoint, and is blind to its emotional or sexual element.
Sarah Ruhl’s script wonderfully balances these humorous scenes with conversations that delve into the complex questions of motherhood, modernization and fulfillment. Catherine, a new mother, is anguished to find that her breast milk does not nourish her baby, while also admitting some fears about the trials of motherhood itself. “It is women who are eaten,” she observes at one point. “We turn our bodies into food.”
Emily H. Gilson is luminous as Catherine, nicely capturing the character’s vibrancy. “I have so much energy, I don’t know what to do with it!” the character exclaims at one point. Partly, she would like to expend some of that energy on her husband, Dr. Givings, played with perfect upright stodginess by Matt J. Bannister. Well-meaning, but emotionally distant, he is helpless in the face of his wife’s increasing dissatisfaction with their life.
With her breast milk pronounced “inadequate” by Dr. Givings, Catherine is forced to take on a wet nurse, Elizabeth, whose youngest child has recently died. Elizabeth, played with a steely grace, by Jacqueline Youm, has a storyline that serves as a reminder of how the bodies of women of color have historically been treated. An early scene finds Dr. Givings requiring a gynecological exam of his new wet nurse, unwanted and unasked for by Elizabeth.
Jeff Asjes’ set design carefully constructs the divide between the Givings’ living room and examination room. Excellent sightlines allow the audience to see characters’ peering across the divide or listening at the door. Steve Deming’s lighting design sensitively directs attention between the two rooms, as the action continues simultaneously.
One of the best scenes of the show finds Catherine convincing Sabrina to sneak into the next room to finally see the device for herself. “It looks like a farming implement,” Catherine exclaims when she finally sees it.
The entrance of Leo Irving, Dr. Givings’ only male patient, causes the already simmering domestic drama to boil over into the parlor. A sensitive and romantic artist, his warmth draws Catherine in, producing some of the best conversations in a show that is brimful with good dialogue. Their easy connection and friendship draws Dr. Givings’ jealousy and confusion, and Catherine’s answering anger.
That tension is eased in a beautifully urgent and intimate final scene, an appropriately lyrical interlude. Like the best theater, this production will leave you with a wonderful afterglow.
Advisory: Some sexual themes (though all clothed). Parental guidance suggested.
Running Time: About two hours with one 15-minute intermission.
“In the Next Room: or the Vibrator Play” runs through March 16 at Silver Spring Stage. For tickets or more information, click here.
