Mallory McGill as Sylvia, Gary Kresca as Greg, and Ann Tyler Allen as Kate
Mallory McGill as Sylvia, Gary Kresca as Greg, and Ann Tyler Allen as Kate
by Nate Lee
Famous for his lament on the decline of ultra-white upper-crust preppy society in “The Dining Room,” playwright A.R. Gurney throws his Yuppies to the dogs, literally, in the hilarious “Sylvia,” brought vividly and expertly to life by Surf City Theatre.
Sylvia is an adorable dog whom Manhattanite Greg brings home from the park one day, to the utter consternation of his wife, Kate. Greg is so infatuated with the pup that Kate, against it from the start, agrees to let him keep Sylvia for a few days till they find a good home for her.
One of the many things that makes the play so enjoyable is that, though always a dog, Sylvia talks to Greg and Kate, just as if she is a house guest, albeit a guest who isn’t allowed on the couch.
That speaking, and its corresponding look into the heart, soul and mind of a dog, ingratiates Sylvia to the audience as well as to Greg, though not to Kate. Consequently, Sylvia becomes yet another trial in their marriage.
That speaking also delivers belly laughs, as it reveals the simple, sometimes atavistic, yet always unconditionally loving thoughts of a dog. (This play predates the similarly drawn movie “Ted” and the TV show “Wilfred” by a couple of decades.) Sylvia delights us with revelations on the joy of sitting on the couch, the fun of being in heat, and, of course, the supreme surprise of a nose in the crotch.
Such is the perfect touch of the cast and director Margaret Schugt that this scenario is sweet and meaningful, too. There are lovely bits such as Sylvia trying to explain her view of the pound to Kate, Greg explaining to Kate how he is caught between her and his wife, and a touching rendition of Cole Porter’s “Every Time We Say Good-Bye.” Indeed, even when Greg or Kate speak harsh or condescending commands to Sylvia, we get a Gurney view of the difference in love and humanity.
Mallory McGill makes Sylvia so endearing, not only do we understand Greg’s infatuation with her, we find ourselves siding with her in this romantic triangle. Indeed, her invective-laded monologue of outrage at the appearance of a despised cat is one of the best and funniest theater moments in recent memory.
As Greg, Gary Kresca brings so much empathy to the part that it is easy for us to understand that he is in need of the admiration and unconditional love that wanes after so many years of marriage and children leaving the nest, even to the point that he leaves work early to walk the streets and parks with Sylvia.
The hardest role in many ways is Ann Tyler Allen’s Kate. After all, she is on the wrong end of “love me, love my dog.” It’s a tribute to her finesse, and that of director Schugt’s, that she doesn’t take the easy way and let us give up on her, or even hate her. In between complaining about Sylvia like she’s “another woman,” she makes us see the light of reason in dealing with a husband who from all appearances is enjoying his midlife crisis.
Steve Oreste is interesting and very engaging as Tom, an unlikely New York bibliophile and fellow dog walker, giving such accurate assessments of Greg’s situation that he could qualify as a Greek chorus. Melody Cohen, as Kate’s friend and foil, Phyllis, makes us feel more empathy with Kate, merely by her own attitude toward Sylvia. Who can blame her? Sylvia treats her to the aforementioned canine overtures in the erogenous zone in another outrageously funny scene.
Except for a quick, too-manic therapist scene, the entire cast and crew has us enthralled and entertained throughout. The only thing left to say about “Sylvia” is, “Come! Sit! Roll over (in the aisles)!
Sylvia plays Friday (tomorrow) and Saturday at 8, plus Saturday and Sunday at 2 p.m. Closes Sunday. Tickets, $20. Call (424) 241-8040 or go to surfcitytheatre.com. ER