Acting up

The Dresser goes behind the curtains

by Bill Rodriguez

THE DRESSER. By Ronald Harwood. Directed by Fred Sullivan Jr. With Sam Babbitt, Nigel Gore, Jeanne Atkinson, Tony Estrella, Enedina Garcia, Lara Hakeem, Taryn DeVito. At Sandra Feinstein-Gamm Theatre through December 5.

Pity the poor actor -- underpaid, underappreciated, with every professional flaw under the spotlight, like zits in a makeup mirror. Poor dears. It's a wonder more of them don't grow into tragi-comic monsters of ego and self-doubt, like the larger than life Actor of The Dresser, Ronald Harwood's entertaining play about a theater company touring northern English. Under the direction of Fred Sullivan Jr. at the Sandra Feinstein-Gamm Theatre, an on-the-money cast is doing a definitive rendition of this bemused love song to life in the Theatuh.

It is 1942 and bombs threaten to fall outside as a sizable audience assembles to see King Lear, to put their own difficult lives in perspective. At no other time was England more in need of the theatrical companies that traveled about the provinces, never setting foot in London, running through their repertory list in guild halls and auditoriums. Comprised of less than the best in the best of times, with most men off to war, this particular company is in especially bad shape.

Also at an emotional low point is the doddering, imperious actor-manager leading this rag-tag troupe. We know him only as Sir (Sam Babbitt). He has not missed a performance in at least 20 years, so he has fled a hospital bed to arrive here an hour before curtain. Unfortunately, punctuality is about all he feels capable of; he is hysterical, cowering in his closet, his opening lines having fled his brain. But he comes alive at word of a full house, brightening as though a switch has been flicked, only to dim again as his self-doubts cloud over. His dresser, Norman (Nigel Gore), has obviously seen all this before, and calmly acts as though a few deep breaths and a nice cup of tea could set everything right.

Too much can be made of the abandoned Lear parallel in this rather schematic, if endearing, play. (Especially since Babbitt performed as Lear last season at SFGT.) But this production is far too droll for that, while not making fun of the old man. Babbitt keeps him bittersweet rather than a laughing stock through his foolishness, with Sir in his lucid moments as much a bulldog ("Cancel? Mustn't. Won't!") as was Churchill vowing to never surrender. Whether Sir is cringing or jut-jawed, Babbitt has him so at full throttle.

As tough a whip-sawing role as Sir is, Gore has the harder task as Norman, whom we really get to know only at the end but who has to cue us to everything within him all along the way. At first Norman can be taken as blithe and rather simple as he assures all that, of course, Sir will go on. Only by the last scene do we see the fortitude and courage that he had to draw on. Then he sees the extent of Sir's callous disregard for him; but instead of whining, Gore gives Norman's fury the stature that Sir wished he himself possessed. Quite a canny and impressive performance.

We also get to meet the motley crew of fire-sale thespians that Sir orders about like pawns to his kingly ego. There is the neglected stage manager Madge (Enedina Garcia), silently in love with Sir for 20 years but always taken for granted. Most important to him is a woman he introduces to audiences as his wife, whom we know only as Her Ladyship (Jeanne Atkinson). "Sir" has never married her, we learn, because divorcing his actual wife will spoil any prospect of the knighthood that would transform his spurious title from pathetic to prescient.

The spirit of the theater comes across as strongly as anywhere in an incidental scene with the actor who plays the fool. As the man deferentially acknowledges that he signed on only for small parts, Barrie Atkinson gives him a bright self-confidence as the actor says he would now like to be considered for bigger roles. At the other end of the self-regard spectrum, there is Mr. Oxenby, the only good actor in the company, saved from the war by a bum leg. Tony Estrella plays him quietly, but with such a burning ego that fire all but beams from his eyes.

Kudos also to Marcia Zammerelli for costume design and Trinity's William Lane for scenic design worthy of an off-Broadway production. A dressing room heavy on floral patterns is the visual equivalent of Norman's wish to keep everything "lovely"; an uncovered lath wall by the stage manager's stool gives that bare essentials backstage feeling. And there other good little touches, like a small bust of the Bard atop a period radio.

The Dresser may be a backstage play about the theater, but this production does a great job kicking out the walls and opening it to the world.