Remembrance of Things WASP

The characters in A. R. Gurney’s plays are genteel folk, fond of things as they used to be and comfortable with anonymity. They don’t like surprises, disruptions in their conventions, or publicity, so a play about their lives will always be unwelcome and threatening, especially when it’s being written by one of their own.
In The Cocktail Hour, now being presented by the Ross Valley Players, Gurney is represented by his alter-ago, John, a playwright who has come home to see his family and announce his intention to write a play about them. John’s father is not at all pleased by the prospect. Does his son’s play have “wise cracks,” he wants to know, “smart remarks?” In any case, it’s a waste of time, he says. “No one cares about our way of life.” But this is the mid ‘70s, and their privileged, structured way of life is by no means a sure thing anymore.
This father-son conversation takes place at the beginning of the cocktail hour, as dinner is being prepared in the kitchen by the most recent new cook. Dad has already started his libations, but John hasn’t – yet. Then his mother arrives, impeccably dressed for dinner and ready to begin their nightly ritual. The cocktail hour is not the same as a cocktail party, she insists. It’s private, “sacred.” In one delightful scene, she and her husband of almost fifty years relate how he prepares her favorite drink in a neatly-choreographed finishing-each-other’s-sentences round.
But John’s Mom is not pleased to hear about his play, either. After all, theatre is public, she says. It will attract attention, and before you know it, robbers. If John must write, she’d much prefer that he produce a book because a book is quieter. Dad, after a refill, reminds everyone that if John’s younger brother, Jigger, were here, they wouldn’t be having all this argument; instead, they’d all be singing together around the piano. (Dad provides frequent dark reminders that he’s now past seventy-five and in “the final days”of his life.)
The arrival of John’s sister Nina adds to the family’s enthusiastic non-support for his project, though Nina barely hears what’s going on. She’s loudly distraught about Portia, her ailing golden retriever. Dogs, it turns out, are probably Nina’s only passion.
Unfortunately, a crisis in the kitchen will delay dinner and prolong the cocktails. Dad smoothes it over with the cook and explains privately to his son that “It’s important to treat servants like part of the family.” John already knows that Dad’s courteous treatment included a twenty dollar tip.
But it’s clear that the bright and brittle chit-chat is covering a fearful foundation. What did John write about his grandfather’s death? Does anyone else in the family have “dark moments?” Why won’t anyone stop and talk? Mom will, but first she insists on “just a splash” to get her started.
The Cocktail Hour is either a serious play with a lot of laughs, or a comedy with serious content. In its present production, Eric Burke, as John, projects the less-favored son’s rage and frustration that builds until it drives him, literally, to drink. T. Louis Weltz portrays his father, Bradley, an experienced home bartender and family escape artist. Beth Deitchman plays sister Nina, the first in her time-warped household to begin to grasp the meaning of “Just do it.” And Christine Macomber as Ann, the mother, steals the show with her chic, well-mannered slide into inebriation in the second act.
Director Mary Ann Rodgers has put maximum movement into a play that could have been rather static and is sometimes produced that way. But Ms. Rodgers’ direction and Bruce Lackovic’s two-level set here allow the actors to use the whole stage. Michael Berg’s costumes are impeccably correct for the time and the occasion. And when did you last see a lady wearing an authentic French roll hairstyle?
As entertainment, Gurney’s The Cocktail Hour is more than an hors d’oeuvre. It’s food for thought.
The Cocktail Hour will play at The Barn Theatre in the Marin Art & Garden Center in Ross through February 17, Thursdays through Sundays. General admission tickets run from $16 (Thurs. only) to $20. For more information, call the box office, 456-9555 or see the website.