The Immortal Husband

Traditionally, the Victorians weren't a breed of doubters. They tended to be set in their ways, of moderate ambition, of staid habit. It's not often that we can see what happened to them when they practised excess, and we must be thankful to James Merrill's The Immortal Husband for the instruction. We must also thank him for a highly original and vastly entertaining play.

Victorians, because of their tradition, aren't always very attractive. In fact, oftentimes they are a down-right bore. So Mr. Merrill has cast aside play-writing convention, and has plopped his 1856 Victorians right into the midst of Czarist Russia (1896)--where people apparently were less set in their ways--and then into the midst of Nixon California (1956) where people apparently are. This is achieved through supernatural power--specifically, the will of the sexy Aurora, Goddess of the Dawn, who has given her Victorian lover-loafer the gift of immortality. We follow him through the three ages into senility, and we learn that loafers are almost never happy and that the restless will always be restless. The message is not very significant, but it has lots of vitality.

The Poets' Theatre, under guest director Otto Asherman, has given the play a vivacious production. All acting honors go to Patricia Guest (Aurora), a lovely young lady who displays all the stupidity, vanity, and carnality the role demands. Edward Thommen, who frequently directs shows at Poets', recovers early from a shaky start, where he seems self-conscious as the Victorian dandy, to exude high humor in the finale which he plays behind a stunning make-up job. Others in the cast include Catherine Huntington, Gail Kepner, Robert Leibacher, and John Coe. The last act set, the California patio scene, is designed with a real satirical flavor by Lester Gediman.

The Immortal Husband seems utterly unpretentious and thoroughly amusing. Its chief point, and delight, is that it is chiefly pointless.