LOTTY, YOU ARE TRANSLATED
ENCHANTED APRIL
Directed by
Christopher Schario; written by Matthew Barber; set design by Michael Reidy;
lighting design by Bart Garvey; costume design Kathleen P. Brown
With: Anne-Marie
Cusson, Janet Mitchko, Andrew Harris, Michael McKenzie; Nicole Golden;
Sheriden Thomas, Peter Crosby, and Susan Poulin
At the Public
Theatre in Lewiston, Maine
From May 4 to May
13, 2007
Reviewed by Laurie
Meunier Graves
“To those who
appreciate wisteria and sunshine, small castle on Mediterranean, Northern
Italy to be let for the month of April. Cook, gardens, ocean view.”
—Advertisement
from Enchanted April
In the United States, vacations are what might be called
a mixed bag. Busy Americans long for them, plan for them, and save for them,
but vacations frequently prove to be both hectic and disappointing, filled
with sunburns, squabbling children, bad food, and too much driving. Often,
it is a relief to come home and “rest from taking a vacation.”
However, in the
delightful Enchanted April, charmingly produced by the Public Theatre
in Lewiston, Maine, a vacation is seen as a chance to regroup, to
reconsider, and, most significantly, to recover from terrible loss. Set in
England and Italy after World War I, Enchanted April follows four
women—Lotty Wilton and Rose Arnott, two housewives struggling with difficult
marriages; Caroline Bramble, a socialite on the verge of a nervous
breakdown; and Mrs. Graves, a dowager whose best days seem to be past. In
addition to the war, which hangs darkly over this sweet play, the women must
deal with the social changes set in motion after World War I, where the
roles of men, women, and servants are in a state of flux. This mixture of
sweet and sad, loss and hope, gives Enchanted April more bite than is
usual for a play that easily could be categorized as a farcical, romantic
comedy. While the play’s sunny side clearly has the upper hand, the darker
side provides a nice balance, an acknowledgment of how grief threads its way
into everyone’s life, even the rich and fortunate.
The Public
Theatre’s Enchanted April opens on a sparse stage made narrow by a
large screen illuminated by various advertisements from the Times.
One, of course, begins with “To those who appreciate wisteria and sunshine,
small castle on Mediterranean…” It catches our attention, and it catches the
attention of Lotty Wilton (Anne-Marie Cusson), who is at her women’s club in
Hampstead, London. Naturally, it is raining, and the weather outside matches
Lotty’s weather inside. Married to an officious barrister who likes things
exactly so, Lotty wishes for enchantment, an escape from a life that seems
too proscribed. Along with spying the ad, she also spies Rose Arnott (Janet
Mitchko), whom she has seen in church and has dubbed “the disappointed
Madonna.” Mitchko’s Rose looks more than disappointed; she looks clinically
depressed. She has her reasons, and one of them is her husband Frederick, a
jazz-age swinger who drinks too much, attends too many parties, and writes
lurid romances under a nom de plume. The serious, devout Rose objects to
nearly everything he does, and while we sympathize with her, we can also see
how her stern disapproval could be more than a little daunting.
Lotty, however, is
not one for being daunted, and she not only befriends Rose but also
convinces her that an Italian vacation without husbands is just the thing
they need. Rose objects, but she is no match for the strong-minded Lotty,
and no sooner can you say “Merchant-Ivory” than they are off to Italy,
despite their husbands’ objections. And to help defray costs, they have
found two other women in need of a vacation—the aforementioned Caroline
Bramble (Nicole Golden) and Mrs. Graves (Sheriden Thomas).
In Italy, this odd
quartet spars and comes together in all the right ways, both as characters
in a play and as an ensemble. Anne-Marie Cusson’s Lotty is so vibrant that
she is almost a force of nature as she sweeps everyone, men and women, into
her schemes. One can almost sympathize with her husband Mellersh (Andrew
Harris) and his love of order, which could be construed as a sort of
self-defense in the face of his wife’s boundless, restless energy. On the
other hand, Mitchko’s Rose is appropriately wilted when the play begins, and
Mitchko does a lovely, believable job of bringing Rose back to life.
Initially, Sheriden Thomas’s Mrs. Graves looks and sounds as though she
stepped right out of an Oscar Wilde play as she makes one withering comment
after another. But Thomas also brings out the old woman’s shrewdness and
humanity, moving her beyond a one-dimensional character. Finally, Nicole
Golden’s Caroline is a compelling mixture of haughtiness, beauty, and
fragility, a woman who is barely coping with a serious loss.
The husbands are
also pitch-perfect. Andrew Harris portrays Mellersh Wilton as an ambitious
man who likes his schedule but who is basically decent. Michael McKenzie’s
debonair Frederick might be “weak” at times, but it is clear that he is in
just as much pain as Rose is. In addition, Peter Crosby does a fine job as
the smooth, polite Antony Wilding, owner of the castle and someone who also
has his own shadows to contend with, and Susan Poulin is hilarious as the
servant Costanza, who doesn’t speak a word of English but makes her feelings
very clear. And Costanza’s shadow? Well, Italy isn’t exactly vacationland
for Costanza as she cooks, serves tea, and deals with the various whims and
crotchets of the English tourists. Most Mainers will know just how she feels.
Special mention
must also go to Michael Reidy, who designed the set. When the women arrive
in Italy, the screen with the advertisements is pulled back to reveal a
glorious scene of flowers, scenery, and a terrace so lush and beautiful that
Lotty can even be forgiven for gushing a little too enthusiastically about “paradisio.”
I don’t want to
give away too much of the plot, of what happens to the women in Italy.
However, I do want to note that, for me, the ending was something of a
surprise as each character dealt with change and loss. In a way, the castle
served the same function as Shakespeare’s forests often do, a place where
one is lost then found. In fact, Lotty at one point proclaims that she is
“translated,” and while she doesn’t have to acquire a donkey’s head for this
transformation, she does have to risk seeming the fool by embracing what the
others have rejected. By stepping back and then accepting it all, Lotty
shows the others and perhaps the audience how to move forward in life.
The Public Theater
did a terrific job with Enchanted April. Right from the start, I was
swept into the play, and when the intermission came, I was disappointed. I
didn’t want the play to stop for fifteen minutes. I wanted it to keep going
so that I could follow Lotty and Rose and Caroline and Mrs. Graves. Now,
that’s theater at its finest. 
