By Kent Mancuso
The thought of a rarely done classic, Daphne du Maurier’s “Rebecca,” to be put on by Theatre à la Carte (TALC), a group with a successful track record of tackling difficult plays, could only make a theatre fan’s mouth water. The result this past weekend was quite simply, haunting. TALCs “Rebecca” is a production planned and performed with meticulous care, a small-scale spectacle that utilized the group’s resources to the fullest. From the moment the group’s chairlady Pat Battestin came out and placed a lighted candle onstage, I knew we were in for something really special.
“Rebecca,” a great British popular novel of the 20th century, fuses elements of mystery, suspense, and romance with a cast of unforgettable characters. Du Maurier herself adapted the book for the stage. Most of us remember the story from Alfred Hitchcock’s Oscar-winning 1940 film. A seductive work of great cinematic beauty, the film somewhat re-told the story. The central character, Rebecca, a woman of great beauty, is dead, and yet her memory holds the characters in an all-enveloping web. Just how Rebecca died is at the core of the tale. The play presents a more disturbing cause of death than the film explored back in 1940.
To help audiences understand the difference between the film and the play, TALC printed a scholarly article in the program and set up a “Rebecca” display in the hall. I know about this play quite well, having taught it in a master class on script-writing some years ago. I’ve seen it done twice before, both times on large professional stages. The action of play is conveniently restricted to one room, the great hall of the estate of Manderley, with a sweeping staircase, a horde of servants, and guests at a ball.
TALC’s production, headed by director Richard Weyhausen, used ingenious means of “suggesting” Manderley on a very small stage. The set, beautifully decorated by Dana Martin, draped the small stage in gold and green and lined the walls with classic paintings. In the ball scene, the space was inundated with floral displays, a credit to Constance Selig. And at all times, off to the side, as if at an altar, is a gorgeous portrait of Rebecca, lighted with a candle.
What’s more, the production augmented the script with scenes that transcend space. It introduced flashbacks in the doubt-ridden mind of the young Mrs. de Winter. The flashbacks feature her former employer, the wealthy Mrs. Van Hoffer (I think TALC meant van Hopper!), a character from the novel not in the actual script. Given commanding presence by veteran Alice Ward, van Hoffer strongly suggests that young Mrs. de Winter is not as innocent as she seems.
As an even more theatrical coup, the production created a spirit (Rebecca?) that walks through the house. Musical selections surround the sprit with different impressions of what Rebecca might have been like — gentle, stormy, and so on. The spirit, in reality the beautiful Alexandra Mosca, resembles Rebecca’s portrait to a T and, at precise times, enters into scenes, appearing to the anguished Maxim de Winter and the psychotic housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers. Lightning effects for such dramatic moments were well-planned and executed by William Hass and Dino Oranges.
The true beauty of this production, however, is the unfolding of the script itself, through the development of carefully delineated characters by a cast of fine local veterans and some exceptional newcomers. Jennifer Fantozzi portrays a thoroughly authentic second Mrs. de Winter. Early on, her vulnerability is beautifully expressed in her voice and face, often in tense confrontations with Maxim. With childlike sadness, she recoils from the demands Manderley places on her. Yet we can see so readily that behind those sad eyes a resourceful woman is ready to emerge.
The director himself takes on the role of Maxim de Winter. Commanding a faultless British accent and manner, he makes a specialty of “British” roles. His Maxim carefully walks that fine line between romantic lover and guilt-ridden husband, on the verge of a breakdown. His volatility, so essential to his character, was thoroughly expressed by subtle variances in expression as well as passionate outbursts.
Throughout the play Mr. and Mrs. de Winter developed their relationship with genuine chemistry. The turmoil in their marriage comes to a grand climax when Maxim reveals his dark secret, in a well-paced and animated account of his Act Two monologue. Mrs. de Winter, after a tense moment of silent resolve, reveals her ability to take charge, in a moment marvelously blanketed in hushed light, with the spirit angrily looking on.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, is brought brilliantly to life by Mary Lynch. Her gait, the rhythm of speech, and her sudden appearances were precisely timed to create an almost unearthly presence. Her voice varied from hushed and hypnotic to furious, as in the passionate confrontation after the “dress scene,” a thrilling moment. The final moment of each act is given to her. The first part closes on her caressing Rebecca’s gown. And her total collapse at the end of the play was pure bravura.
The “dress scene,” in which the hapless Mrs. de Winter models one of Rebecca’s gowns to her husband’s hysterical despair, is one of several times the director assembled the cast onstage with dexterity and precision. This scene was timed to a musical track so that Mrs. de Winter’s appearance and Maxim’s mounting passion coincide with the loudest passage in the music.
All the other characters were beautifully drawn. Constable Julyan, in a well-modulated performance by Nick DeCesare, showed concern for the de Winters as well as insistence that justice be met, all with the feel of a country aristocrat. Ed Schuldner gave carefully contrasting moods to Jack Favell, Rebecca’s lover — from devilish in his flirtation with Mrs. de Winter to violent in his final scene. The quiet torment of Frank Crawley, seduced by the memory of Rebecca, was so tragically conveyed by Ron Caveglia. Bernard Bosio’s Tabb, the boatman, showed clear transition from plaintive early on (appearances which were added to the script) to the sinister herald of justice in the last act.
Beatrice, Maxim’s almost-too-loving sister, benefited greatly from the expertise of Nancy Keegan, showing her concern for her brother and eventually his new wife. From comedienne to supportive sister, she managed difficult transitions of mood with ease. Her husband, Giles, was played with gentle comic relief by Tony Paterniti, revealing real tenderness and a flair for fun. Frith, the “upstairs man” of the house, played by a polished Peter Bohlman, conveyed real concern for Manderley and his master. Bari Plaut’s Alice, the maid, was most expressive. Her sad eyes and smile spoke well for her in each of her scenes.
A complex work, brimming with entrances and exits, flowed effortlessly, attesting to the overtime that must have been put in by the director’s assistant, Jennifer Lothian, and stage manager Lisa Oranges, as well as producer Susan Emro.
As a point of constructive criticism, the producers and director might have considered whether TALC’s small stage could really do “Rebecca” justice. With such a limited stage area, TALC might really focus on more intimate works. A larger space, such as at Beari Productions or even Douglaston Community Theatre, might have been more appropriate. Indeed, I wondered how both the recent Beari Productions recent “I Ought to Be in Pictures and TALC’s “Rebecca” might both have benefited had they swapped stages.
And although the play insists that Maxim is old enough to be Mrs. de Winter’s father, Weyhausen, with his boyish face and slim figure, hardly suggests a man of 50 years. A more believable approach might have been to delete the age difference from the script, as was done in the film.
There’s also the issue of budget. A small group can only invest a small amount in a grand-scale work like “Rebecca.” Although the additional servants and guests are not absolutely required, somehow TALC might have seen fit to have more than just two servants greet the de Winters. A party with only 5-6 people just doesn’t cut it. And how could TALC have settled for a 1970s bridesmaid’s gown for their 1930s ghost?
And since I intend to see at least one more performance, I hope that TALC might gratify my curiosity. Would they somehow identify the names of the exquisite musical pieces used in the show? Even at this late date in my life, I am trying to cultivate a knowledge of things musical and am embarrassed that I have not a clue as to the names or composer of the pieces.
These are minor points indeed to a most gratifying theatrical experience. A sophisticated, adult “ghost story,” TALCs “Rebecca” was well worth their efforts. I could hardly imagine any other group giving this intriguing story more tender loving care, imaginative staging, and fine acting. I was held at the edge of my seat the entire time, rather like a child watching as present after present was opened up in each scene.
Additional performances are Fridays and Saturdays, Nov. 1, 2, 8, and 9 at 8 p.m. and Sundays Nov. 3 and 10 at 3 p.m. at the Community Church of Douglaston, 39-50 Douglaston Parkway. Tickets are $12 with senior and child discounts available. Call 631-4092 for reservations.
