Two men and three women – an unremarkable liaison

Theatre
The Secretary Bird
Manoel Theatre

With the upcoming referendum on divorce in our country, it was quite telling that one of the first theatrical performances of the year would deal with the subject. Dubbed “a clever comedy about divorce”, William Douglas-Home’s The Secretary Bird ran last weekend and left me feeling rather lost. For a parlour comedy written in the late 1960s, the script depended entirely on the actors’ ability to pace their lines as accurately as they could – the delivery being of utmost importance for the witticisms in Mr Douglas-Home’s dry, often wry lines required to create a humorous effect.

The first act lacked this pace and led to a lag which lost the comic effect in many cases. Chris Spiteri played Hugh Walford, a novelist whose philandering ways have led his wife, Liz, portrayed by Lizzie Eldridge, to decide to take matters into her own hands and start an affair of her own with Sean Brownlow, John Montanaro’s accomplished stock­broker.

The play unfolds over a weekend fraught with awkward pauses and unspoken hostilities hidden beneath an aura of gentility where everybody calls each other “darling” through their teeth.

Hugh Walford hits upon a plan to make his wife jealous again and incite some competition in the love department by inviting his secretary Molly Forsythe over, letting Liz think that he is also about to have an affair with Molly while Liz attempts to convince him that she really wants a divorce by asking Sean Brownlow to join them. Molly is, however, quite in the know of what is going on and doesn’t act like the predatory African bird that the play’s title implies she might be.

Throw in Jane Pillow’s hearty interpretation as Mrs Gray, the Walfords’ housekeeper, and the stage is set for the typical upper-crust comedy of manners, where people spar with words and stereotypes run rife.

People still dress for dinner in this sort of environment and between gin and tonic refills, bridge games, tennis matches and sherry nightcaps, the die was cast for the unfolding of events which eventually lead to Hugh successfully convincing Liz that their relationship was worth saving and that divorce would be a mistake.

With a great period set, which could easily have placed the scene anywhere from the 1930s to the late 1960s, a vibrant choice of colour created good visuals and made the development more credible. Sadly, the same could not be said of the first act, as, rather than starting with a bang, projection was rather weak on all counts, apart from Mr Montanaro’s strong voice, which made his Sean Barlow appear just the way he should have, according to the stereotype – a self-confident, affluent man used to getting what he wants.

Ms Eldridge gave, on the whole, rather a tame performance in the first act, as a disillusioned, upset wife, playing down the sarcasm that her lines afforded her, but gave her role a solid rendering. While Mr Spiteri’s diction was at times unclear and his accent not particularly credible, it was his youthful looks which lacked credibility in a man who is supposedly in his mid- to late-40s at the very least.

While Ms Pillow’s accent varied from scene to scene and was rather difficult to place, making her Mrs Gray seem rather displaced, her inter­pretation was, notwithstanding, quite enjoyable.

Ms Attard’s Molly Forsythe, the eponymous secretary, made the most of her lines in the second act, which was considerably much better paced than the first.

She was, on all counts, a responsive and astute co-conspirator to Hugh and the two played off each other quite well, as did Ms Eldridge in her snide confrontations with Molly and Hugh, proving that character dynamics can make a difference in the individual actor’s inter­pretation.

Director Barry Calvert may have made a safe choice in the play’s rather dated script but there was a certain lack of energy and drive which did not appear to have been addressed.

The issues raised by such a play were certainly light-hearted in a much-needed hot bed of controversy but lacked to engage as much as they could have, making the production pleasant but unremarkable.