BWW Reviews: IN THE NEXT ROOM at Open Stage of Harrisburg Shines Light on History

Sarah Ruhl's IN THE NEXT ROOM (OR THE VIBRATOR PLAY) is an important piece both of American theatre and of women's theatre. The difficulty is that it is about sex, and that makes the typical audience confused - it wants what the play absolutely does not provide, titillation, sexual humor, and ironic looks back at our sexually stunted forebears. If you want those, plays abound to fill the void - a bedroom farce such as BOEING, BOEING may suffice. IN THE NEXT ROOM did not wind up with three Tony nominations in 2010 for any of those reasons. As the Open Stage of Harrisburg production directed by Don Alsedek reminds us, it won them for a frank look at the ignorance of women's sexuality which many Americans still share, for an understanding of the ways of female bonding and how fragile that bonding can be, and for the inability of spouses to really hear anything being said by one to the other.

Let's get the fact out of the way: the vibrator was invented as an actual medical device, to relieve "female hysteria," a conversion disorder. That women were experiencing org*sms from the devices meant nothing to a culture that still later would produce books on the myth of female org*sm and that in recent memory could argue as to whether org*sm induced by clitoral stimulation was "real" org*sm. Therefore there was no need, in the Victorian era, to deal with issues of sexual satisfaction - most "nice" women, and their husbands, wouldn't have known the meaning of the concept. The women who obtained relief from their hysteria symptoms (which included the evil of apparent sexual arousal) from a doctor's use of the vibrator were often confused as to how they felt during the experience, having nothing else to compare with it. Some registered it as painful and the resulting "paroxysms" disturbing.

This is the environment of IN THE NEXT ROOM, a play that compares the sexual lives of married patient Sabrina Daldry, the doctor's wife, Catherine Givings, wet nurse Elizabeth, and nurse-midwife Annie, who works for Dr. Givings. Sabrina and Catherine have "considerate," indifferent husbands who "spare them pain" during the sexual act - Mr. Daldry is so kind as to keep the lights off and to insist that his wife may keep her eyes closed. Neither Sabrina nor Catherine, until some joint discussion and experimentation, connect the vibrator with pleasure - or with anything their husbands might do with or for them. Annie, who assists Dr. Givings, and who attends childbirth, is equally free of comprehension of sexual arousal and org*sm, although, it seems, her life of celibacy may be rooted in additional unawareness of her own sexual nature. She is an educated woman with scientific experience, yet cannot connect the hysteria treatment to anything within her own nature - and her experiences assisting Sabrina with hysteria treatment wind up revealing more than either she nor Sabrina wish to know about themselves.

The only woman with a real understanding of sexuality is Elizabeth, the wet nurse, who is of somewhat lower social status than these women of breeding and education, and who has never had the cultural constraints of polite, educated society telling her she and her husband should not enjoy their sexual relationship. She may not understand medical terminology or know which spoon is which, but she understands life - from which the other women in the story are radically sheltered. Her suggestion that the symptoms that the others relate when experiencing the vibrator treatment sound much like her own pleasure during sex shocks Sabrina and Catherine and sends them further into denial.

Ian Potter as Dr. David Givings is cheerfully clueless as to what he is doing or why it works, or why his own wife is so distressed with her life. Cassidy Dermott, playing Sabrina Daldrey, is refreshing and extremely amusing as the patient who finds herself in need of increasing hysteria treatment and who wants her own machine - yet who finds that Annie's administration of treatment is much more effective than the doctor's. Open Stage veteran Anthony M.C. Leukus is a thoroughly believable Mr. Daldry, anxious to do the right thing for his wife but completely uncomprehending of women's thoughts or feelings. Kimorie Cherry as Catherine Givings is a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown, knowing something is missing in her life yet unsure of what it is, and only knowing that making her husband jealous or outraging him is the only way to obtain his attention. Colin York as painter Leo Irving is that catalyst for Catherine, as well as being the rare male hysteria patient - and the doctor's jealousy of him sparks one of the more disturbing scenes in the production, as the painter undergoes his second treatment.

Yet the real kudos must go to two of the "smaller" female parts and their actors - Aneesa Neibauer as wet nurse Elizabeth and Kelli Kauterman as midwife Annie, two women trivialized by the culture of the time so far as to not be dignified with last names. Elizabeth as a lower-class woman and an African-American finds herself oversexualized by others, while Annie as a medical woman and student of Greek philosophy is desexualized not only by others but by herself, and even shares Dr. Givings' misguided desexualization of women in general. Watching Elizabeth develop her ability to defend herself from attacks on her identity, and watching Annie develop an awareness of herself are two of the great pleasures of this show. Neibauer and Kauterman bring these struggles to life and are worthy of as much attention as the major players in this production.

The best moments in this show are all-female ones - Catherine and Sabrina wondering at the device, Elizabeth explaining sexual response to the other women, Sabrina and Annie at the piano, and the like. There is pleasure in watching these women bond with each other and struggle with each other at a time when such things were completely devalued.

The script is a joy, with ripe moments of humor between the women, and the cast is quite fine. The pacing could perhaps be tighter, but those who are waiting for "the juicy bits" will actually miss the good parts - they're happening while those audience members are waiting for a payoff that is not part of this play. Part history, part female bonding, part reality check about the experience of female sexuality, this is not quite the spectacle some audiences want - it is a gentle, thoughtful look at the complexities of sex and relationships. And this must be, and is, enough to fill an entire evening.

At Open Stage of Harrisburg through May 7. Call 717-232-OPEN or visit www.openstagehbg.com for tickets.

Photo Credit: Open Stage of Harrisburg

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