THEATRE PREVIEW:

“SYLVIA” at the Old Globe Theatre

Published in San Diego Union-Tribune September, 1996

 

 

How does an actor audition for the role of a dog? 

 

"Well, she doesn't crawl around on all fours," chuckles John Rando, director of the Old Globe's upcoming production of "Sylvia."  "But," he quips, "we did have some little dog treats available."

 

The title character in A.R. Gurney's newest play is a lovable mutt, who becomes the obsession of a married man in mid-life crisis. 

 

"It's such a clever part," Rando continues.  "[Sylvia is] one-half urban, bold and comedic; the other half, pure dog."  Playwright Gurney, an Associate Artist of the Old Globe, suggested Kellie Waymire to play the part.  Waymire had auditioned for the original production at the Manhattan Theatre Club in 1993; the role ultimately went to Sarah Jessica Parker, but Waymire left an impression.

 

According to Rando, she has "a wonderful, adorable quality.  But she's also sassy and alive.  Sometimes, a part and an actress are made for each other."

 

Waymire, a lifelong, inveterate dog-lover, took to the role like, well, like a dog to a bone. 

 

"It kills me that I can't have a dog in New York," says the young actress (who already won't reveal her age).  "I get pet withdrawal...  I love Sylvia -- the dog and the script.  It's charming, touching and insightful...

 

"The play is called 'Sylvia,' but what it's really about is a couple re-defining their relationship after a big change in their lives [their last child goes off to college].  Sylvia is sort of a catalyst, like a rock that's thrown in an unsettled pond."

 

When Greg brings home a cute young thing, and then falls in love with her, his wife Kate jealously tells the dog, "All you are is a male menopausal moment." Later she gets more vehement:   "You managed to chew a huge hole in a 22-year marriage."  Sylvia doesn't just cock her head and listen; she talks back.  She even quotes Homer and Tennessee Williams. 

 

Some New York critics found her irresistible.  Vincent Canby, of the New York Times, called the play "critic-proof."  Howard Kissel, of the Daily News, proclaimed it "...involving, beautiful, funny, touching and profound...  No one who has ever loved a dog, I assume, will quibble..."  But London critics decried the play as "escapist" and "fluffy nonsense."

 

Kelly Waymire doesn't agree.  "It's not just a light comedy," she says.  "Sylvia helps Greg and Kate put their lives in focus.  There's a conflict in their marriage, then there's a resolution.  Ultimately, everyone gets what they want, but they have to learn how to share, how to sacrifice.  You can have your cake and eat it, too.  And this is a very considered cake-eating contest."

 

It's also a real opportunity for Waymire, who completed her MFA in Acting at UCSD only three years ago.  During her training, she was cast in two La Jolla Playhouse productions:  she played Geraldine in "What the Butler Saw" and Hero in "Much Ado About Nothing."

 

Her first New York job, fresh out of graduate school, was pretty far removed from her UCSD experience:  a one-year recurring role on the TV soap opera, "One Life to Live."

 

"There are a lot of really good actors on soaps," she asserts.  But there are just as many frustrations.  So Waymire and some fellow soap-actors, "thirsty for something to say of consequence," started Rogue Repertory in New York, staging "Marivaux, Shakespeare, and some new plays."

 

But right now, her theatrical focus is on canine behavior.

 

"I don't want to act like a dog.  But there is some stuff you can do to suggest you're a dog.  There is a little butt-wiggling, and there's a floppy, unconsidered quality.  I'm trying to manifest the right kind of attitude and energy.  I'm not gonna convince anyone I'm a dog."

 

She doesn't wear a dog costume, and she doesn't bowwow.   But she convincingly demonstrates Gurney's suggested human equivalent of a bark: "Hey! Hey!"  Since Sylvia is part poodle, her costume palette favors pink.  She starts off in scruffy, youthful overalls, and progresses to Capri pants, a mini skirt and finally, an elegant little black dress. 

 

"I suppose it's sexy, in a pert kind of way, but not vampy," Waymire says.  "Sylvia sort of grows up during the play.  She kind of moves from child to teenager with a raucous attitude, finally demanding intellectual equalness."

 

"What's great about it all," explains Rando, "is that Gurney has wedded a theatrical idea -- an actor behaving as a dog -- with a very extraordinary, witty, dog intelligence.  It's kind of like James Thurber said:  No one appreciates your art of conversation as much as your dog."

 

 DATEBOOK

        "SYLVIA "

            A.R. Gurney's latest comedic work, an inter-species love triangle, opens September 7 (Previews September 1-6).  Performances Tuesday-Saturday 8 p.m., Sunday 7 p.m., Saturday and Sunday 2 p.m.  Through October 12.  Cassius Carter Centre Stage, in Balboa Park.  $22-39; 239-2255.

 

PAT LAUNER is a freelance writer.

           

©1996 Patté Productions Inc.