University of Virginia Library

Broadway Beat

Another Puzzle From Pinter

By STEVE WELLS

NEW YORK—A converted
farmhouse. Autumn. Night. A
man. His wife. Detachment.
Longing. A visitor from the
past. Recollections.
Ambiguities. Struggles. Pauses.
Realizations. Pain. Loneliness.

This may seem to be a
rather sketchy summation of
Harold Pinter's new play, "Old
Times," but actually there is
little else one could add in the
way of concrete, objective
description. If you would like
to give flesh to this skeletal
outline, I suggest you use your
imagination and think up all
sorts of neat directions you
could go in with these basics as
a starting point. That is what
Pinter has done, only he hasn't
chosen one direction, but
rather several, leaving possible
interpretations in multiple
choice form.

This, of course, is nothing
new for Pinter. It's a
game—and that game can often
be intriguing. But it costs to
play, and you might find that
cost becoming increasingly
prohibitive. I'm not referring
to the ticket prices, but the
necessary and omni-present
obscurity. You see, if a
playwright wants to leave a lot
of guesswork up to the
audience, he can't tell you very
much about the characters for
fear of closing an open door.

Thus, while the characters
are allowed to achieve depth of
attitude or emotion, they
remain two-dimensional
because specifics and
explanations are denied us. We
don't really know them;
therefore, they don't always
interest us, and the sympathies
they arouse in us are universal
instead of personal (i.e. death
causes a universal sympathy,
the death of someone we love
causes a personal sympathy,
the latter obviously being more
profound than the former).

But for all his cryptic
dialogue (which is becoming
more and more of a
self-parody), Pinter never puts
you off totally, at least not for
a whole evening. The second
act of "Old Times" is
incomparably more arresting
than the first, I think because
he lets the characters trade
more in sincere emotions than
in intellectual conceits. And
the ending of the play, which
presents us with a visual image
identical to one previously
spoken of from the past, is
almost haunting in its dramatic
poise, eloquent in its silent
the triviality.

Peter Hall has staged the
play in typical Pinter
style — abstractly,
surrealistically — and, given the
stage vernacular the play
imposes, has done so
beautifully. In this he has been
assisted by designer John Bury,
whose raked, sparsely
furnished set is perfectly in
tune to the overall concept and
approach, and especially by his
three actors—Robert Shaw,
Rosemary Harris, and Mary
Ure—all of whom remain at
arm's distance marvelously.

"Old Times" has many fine
moments, and is
unquestionably significant
theatre. Even so, it's the sort of
play that is more fun to think
about than to watch.

***

Melvin Van Peebles' "Ain't
Supposed to Die a Natural
Death" is sub-titled "Tunes
From Blackness," which would
be a more accurate billing were
"tunes" changed to
"rhythms." The rhythms may
be monotonous, like everything
else in the show, but they
certainly aren't tunes.

Van Peebles' musical
montage of black city life
contains the same hate-inspired
racism as his films have, which
seems to have artistically
have blinded him. I would like
to have seen a representation
of life, say, in Harlem, but I
would also like to have seen
some sort of development to
the piece, a build, a
progression. We are given a
series of episodes which fail to
sustain the interest because
there are no characters to latch
on to and follow, no musical
excitement, just rambling.

The cast can't be faulted,
nor director Gilbert Moses, nor
Kurt Lundell, whose set is
terrific. If they had had a man
of - talent at the center they
might have come up with
something exciting.

***

Also on the musical side, on
a bit happier note, "On the
Town" is back in town, and if
you can tolerate an almost
intolerable first forty minutes,
the rest is smooth sailing.

Ron Field has staged a
competent revival, overcoming
the cornball aspects of the
show with some good dance
numbers, some respectable
performances, and a regard for
carefree fun.

The Leonard Bernstein
score is spotty, but "New
York, New York," "Lonely
Town," "Some Other Time,"
and "You Got Me" show his
master's touch. Betty Comden
and Adolph Green's book and
lyrics, about three sailors on
twenty-four hour leave in New
York, are often simple-minded,
especially in the beginning, but
spirited nonetheless.