Review: Compelling ‘Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia’ at Geffen Playhouse
- Anita W. Harris
- 23 hours ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 2 hours ago
Rising playwright Beth Hyland’s “Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia,” having its world premiere at Geffen Playhouse, is just what you’d want in a new play — ambitious and compelling in a well staged and performed production. Bringing to life poets Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes as they affect a current writer and her husband, the play challenges expectations in a rollercoaster ride of ghostly interactions.
Sally (Midori Francis) and her husband Theo (Noah Keyishian) have taken up residence in a Boston apartment where Sylvia Plath (Marianna Gailus) and Ted Hughes (Cillian O’Sullivan) once lived in 1958. Fluid set design by Studio Bent seamlessly alternates décor as the story moves back and forth between the two time periods. Lighting by Lap Chi Chu aids those transitions and creates moody tones as Sally becomes increasingly unnerved by visitations from the past and her own manic anxiety.
For Sally is writing a book on Plath and Hughes that’s well overdue as she struggles with writer’s block in the wake of a miscarriage. Theo, meanwhile, has just won accolades for his own book. The writerly couple roughly parallels what we see of Sylvia and Ted’s competitiveness, with Sylvia’s deference toward the proud Ted echoed in sensitive Theo’s support of spitfire Sally.
But the play is not a simple inversion of roles across time. Sylvia metaphysically visits Sally as she writes the book while Sally argues with Theo about feminism, feelings and the miscarriage that haunts them both in different ways. An unexpected and intense visitation by Ted seems to affirm for Sally that Theo is not “manly” enough for her.
It also unleashes in Sally a writing frenzy as she plays out (and we see) Sylvia confronting Ted about his infidelity and him telling her that she will mainly be remembered for her death rather than her poetic genius. He also tells her how he edits her final posthumous collection “Ariel” to reduce the parts that make him look bad and emphasize her own emotional challenges that might have led to her 1963 suicide.
At one point, Sylvia and Ted sway slightly like hovering puppets on either side of Sally as she writes. But instead of her directing their words and actions, they verbally barrage her with her own negative thoughts about her writing ability, pushing her to an unexpected breaking point.
Jo Bonney’s direction maintains a steady tension as the narrative shifts in time, and a scene where all four actors are on stage at the same time is well choreographed. And all the actors inhabit their roles exquisitely.
Gailus and O’Sullivan are especially exquisite, embodying Sylvia and Ted with strength, grace and subtle nuance. Though all four characters are in their twenties, Sylvia and Ted project a self-possession and stature that the other couple lacks, perhaps aided by height and nicer period clothing (costumes by Samantha C. Jones), with Sylvia in a skirt and silk blouse and Ted in a wool suit.
The other couple seems more puerile by contrast, especially Sally, partly due to Francis’ more petite size but also her somewhat frumpy stay-at-home-writer attire, including unflattering cropped tops and sweatpants, that may reflect her agitated state of mind.
Francis also plays her character more shrilly than seems necessary at first, especially compared to the others. But she delivers with palpable belief a final monologue of events that are told, not shown, which her authenticity helps us feel as real.
Tackling strong emotions related to creating — whether babies, poetry, books or loving relationships — “Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia” takes bold chances, enhanced by the Geffen’s excellent staging and fine acting. Especially if you’re familiar with Plath and Hughes, or the solipsistic writing process, or any artistry that calls up your worst fears, doubts and insecurities, you’ll appreciate how this play faces the painful truths of creative efforts movingly and unflinchingly.
“Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia” continues through March 8 at the Geffen Playhouse’s Gil Cates Theater, 10886 Le Conte Ave., Los Angeles, with shows Wednesdays and Thursdays at 7:30 p.m., Fridays at 8 p.m., Saturdays at 3 p.m. and 8 p.m., and Sundays at 2 p.m. and 7 p.m. For tickets and information, call the box office at 310-208-2028 or visit GeffenPlayhouse.org. Run time is 1 hour and 40 minutes with no intermission.