I’m not sure if something that happens in the
first five minutes of a play can be considered a “plot twist”, but
there is a surprising realization that comes near the beginning of
“Norman and Beatrice”. An old but still obviously spry man stands
gazing out his kitchen window, dressed to head out into the glow of
the snow. He banters playfully with his wife of 54 years, flirting
and cracking jokes. It’s a while before the audience sees for
certain that Norman has Alzheimer’s disease.
The two
character piece is the latest presentation by Synapse Productions,
who recently gained attention and a Drama Desk nod for “Animal Farm
(The Puppet Musical)”. Award winning playwright Barbara Hammond,
whose one-act play “June Weddings” is currently being turned into a
film, has very personal source material that informs he latest play;
She wrote “Norman and Beatrice” based on her own parents, and the
close bond that deepened as her fathers’ mind became more
disjointed.
It is
startling and heartening to see humor brought into a play about
dementia. The topic, when
addressed at all, is usually handled with a focus on the
tragedy of losing ones’ identity, and the heartbreak of having to
take care of those who once took care of everyone else.
Norman
offers a sincere, paranoid protest about his lunch: “What if it’s
poisoned?” “Why would I want to poison you?”, retorts Bea, gently.
He responds with a smile. “That’s how you get away with it! No
motive.” These moments when he realizes his confusion and makes a
joke of it make this play something honest and special. There is
genuine humor here, but we are laughing with Norman, not at him.
In the
second act, we travel back in time see the couple on another Sunday
morning, three months into their marriage. The younger pair is still
learning about one another. Seeing the disconnects in communication
and the faltering bids for attention that come from youthful
insecurity make the
comfortable commitment of the first half even more
beautiful.
As Norman,
Graeme Malcolm is brilliant. The pure joy on his aged face when his
wife informs him, as if for the first time, that they have a
whopping seven children (“Holy Toledo! I’m a lucky guy.”), apruptly
brought me to tears. His transformation from the charming,
bewildered old man in the first act to the gutsy newlywed in the
second act is wonderfully subtle. He has an equally dazzling partner
in Jane Nichols. The older incarnation of Beatrice seems in constant
motion, fixing a sandwich, carrying the laundry, but always keeping
her hand close to the countertop to steady herself. Watching her
answer her husbands’ constant questions is a revelation: practiced
patience, mild exasperation, lighthearted teasing. She is not an
unrealistically noble martyr, but a fragile human who is doing what
she can to make their lives livable. This sweet but pragmatic
caretaker is made even more impressive when we see the needy,
serious Bea of the first act.
Director
David Travis has helped his actors foster a realistic relationship.
He lets the piece stand as a slice of life without trying to add
unnecessary
profundity. Similarly, Norman and Beatrice’s surroundings
are astonishing in an every day way. Costumes by Camille Assaf are
note perfect. Lighting designer Marcus Doshi even brings the glow of
snow through the windows, and helps to being a sense of out
protagonists being in their own world. Luke Hegel-Cantarella’s
fantastically detailed set will be familiar to anyone who has been
in the longtime home of people who lived through World War II;
over-stuffed with obscure knick-knacks, postcards and photos from
children, grandchildren, and far-away friends in a magnetized
collage on the refrigerator, mismatched dishes and souvenir mugs in
the cupboards, even a well worn bread drawer. The transformation to
the spare, orderly room in the first act is excellent.
Ms. Hammond
has written and simple, honest, and beautiful account of what
Alzheimer’s does, and doesn’t, change. Anyone who has lost a person
they loved long before their mortal coil expired will recognize the
moments and emotions of Norman and Beatrice.
Photo Credit: Marcus
Doshi
All photos: Graeme
Malcolm and Jane Nichols