"No, don't! Oh please, really? Ugh."
I've been to a number of shows that rely on audience participation, but the commentary provided during Arena Stage's production of The Heiress was actually the unplanned reactions from the women sitting behind me. While normally I tune out this sort of thing when reviewing a show, it feels relevant this time for one key reason: this response is really the only investment the audience has in the show.
The premise of The Heiress is fairly well-trodden territory (spoilers included, though the plot is somewhat predictable): Set in 1850s New York, it centers around Catherine Sloper, the shy, unassuming daughter of the wealthy and renowned widower, Dr. Austin Sloper, who mourns not only the wife he lost years ago, but also that their daughter lacks her charm, wit, talent, and beauty. The two are hosting Sloper's recently widowed sister, Lavinia Penniman, who is determined to bring Catherine out of her shell. The opportunity arrives when Catherine's newly engaged cousin, Marian, brings her new fiancé and his cousin, Morris Townsend for a visit. Morris is immediately taken to Catherine, and quickly proposes to her, but Dr. Sloper is suspicious of his motives and attempts to break the engagement by taking Catherine to Paris with him for six months. When she insists on continuing with the marriage upon their return, Sloper disinherits Catherine; when Morris finds out, he gilts Catherine on the night they're due to elope and heads west to California in search of gold. Meanwhile, Sloper informs his family and dutiful servant, Maria, that he is terminally ill, and reverses his threats to disinherit Catherine, leaving her to lead a quiet, luxurious, and solitary life after his death. Morris returns to beg her forgiveness, and this time it is Catherine who abandons him.
The commentary I referenced in the opening of this review is a composite of the comments made by the women behind me - as well as a number of audience members in my section - each time Morris professed his love for Catherine. From the start, the audience is aware that he is too smooth, too fixated on wealth, and too quick in his devotion. No one trusted his words of love for an instant, and sheer annoyance at his behavior was constant and difficult to suppress. Dr. Sloper's suspicions are clearly right, though his abusive attitude toward his daughter makes it impossible for him to convey this without furthering her knowledge of his low opinion of her. Lavinia, on the other hand, seems set on clearing the path for Catherine and Morris at any cost - her motive is never fully clear, and it makes it difficult to place her, since it's possible she's a misguided champion for Catherine or simply taken in by Morris' slickness or perhaps even approves of his intentions for some indiscernible reason, though she never really lets herself commit to any stance.
The cast is serviceable for this production - James Whalen plays Dr. Sloper with the grief, disappointment, and importance his character emulates, and Jonathan David Martin's Morris is as charming and slick as any conman. Nancy Robinette plays Lavinia as well as she can, given the lack of true motivation. The supporting cast members Lise Bruneau (Mrs. Montgomery, Morris' sister), Lorene Chesley (Marian), Janet Hayatshahi (Elizabeth Almond, Marian's mother and Austin's sister), Kimberly Scharf (Maria, the Slopers' devoted servant), and Nathan Whitmer (Arthur Townsend, Marian's fiancé) are in some ways the strongest part of the show, since they seem to shine and fade into the background as they are needed. But I will note that part of my disappointment with the show came from Laura C. Harris' portrayal of Catherine - throughout most of Act I, the character was played so achingly awkward, with an odd lit to her voice and twist of her neck, that I half-expected to find out that Catherine herself was putting on an act. Since this was not the case, it instead read as exaggerated in a way that made it difficult to invest in the character; this was especially true after she "knocked" over a photo in such an overly flailing manner that it looked as though the actress had tossed it across the stage, supposedly a display of her pitiable lack of grace. Her progression in Act II made her a bit more engaging, but also felt too quick to fit the plot; Catherine gained some confidence well before any of the events that are supposed to spur it, and her mannerism shifted too quickly and too early for the plot points. I will say that her characterization in the final scene was wonderfully portrayed.
The set, designed by Mikiko Suzuki MacAdams, is one of the bright spots of the production - the grandness and easy wealth of the family home is easily conveyed, even as set pieces are kept relatively minimal; the floating windows in particular are quite impressive. Costume designer Ivania Stack captures 1850s fashion beautifully, though Morris' prized gloves (supposedly a symbol of his taste for luxury) looked a bit clunky and off from the rest of the costumes' elegance. I will note, though, that while most of the hair and makeup (supervised by LaShawn Melton with wigs designed by Anne Nesmith) was historically accurate and elegant, Morris' gold-rush facial hair elicited laughter from the audience that may not have been intended by the designs; indeed, a few people noted that he looked like a modern hipster.
Perhaps the biggest problem with The Heiress is that it's difficult to invest in. It's hard to root for Catherine beyond hoping she tells Morris off, and that's more about dislike of him than support for her. None of the characters are particularly likeable (except for some of the supporting cast), so it's difficult to care about the stakes. There are glimmers of interesting substance (such as Dr. Sloper being confronted by his sisters about his absurdly high expectations for his daughter) that are unfortunately dropped without seeing them through. The show covers common themes, but doesn't offer anything new or interesting, nor does it offer anything familiar in a noticeably skilled or engaging manner. In the end, the audience simply invests in telling off Morris, because it's the only way they can connect emotionally. After all, we can all get behind telling off a bad ex. It's just a shame that The Heiress doesn't give us the opportunity to go deeper than that.
The Heiress plays at Arena Stage through March 10th. The show is approximately three hours with one intermission.
Photo: (L-R) Laura C. Harris (Catherine Sloper) and Jonathan David Martin (Morris Townsend) in The Heiress running February 8 through March 10, 2019 at Arena Stage at the Mead Center for American Theater. Photo by C. Stanley Photography.
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