Social climbers

A two-headed conversational take on the TimeLine Theatre’s production of the George Bernard Shaw classic comedy ‘Widowers’ Houses’

By Jessica Kelmon and Sarah McCann

“Rent must be paid my dear boy,” says the obsequious Cokane. He’s a spin doctor 100 years before it became a profession. A leading character in George Bernard Shaw’s play “Widowers’ Houses,” Cokane’s talent is making the unseemly more palatable, and making the audience laugh out loud.

When Shaw finally published his first play, it was packaged with two others. He called the three works together “Plays Unpleasant,” warning both audiences and fellow theater critics that they might not enjoy being openly mocked as they watched these plays. While the central theme of “Widowers’ Houses” is the ethics of rich investors profiting by exploiting the poor, Shaw also manages to critique the importance of social status with a hilarious satire about social climbers intent on reaching at least one more rung on society’s ladder.

 

Does Shaw despise mankind?
Throughout the play, every character flirts with the choice between right and wrong. Shaw sets up scenarios in which his protagonists face a series of minor choices, and they repeatedly choose the slightly selfish, self-serving option. The effect is a perfect illustration of what the term “slippery slope” means. Most people are neither purely good nor purely evil. Instead, the audience watches as Shaw’s characters descend slowly into what may best be described as semi-evil, or, perhaps you could say, “purgatory-bound.” Every time he introduces a character, there is new hope for a beacon of true goodness. Perhaps Shaw likes the poor, for instance. But no, every time, he shows the audience his good-humored disdain for human fallibility.

JK: Right up until the end, I was thinking, OK, this is the moral of the play: Shaw likes this guy. But at the end, he smacks you over the head with his response, which seems to be, “Nope, all people suck.” And yet it’s funny, not depressing. I felt like a pretty great person walking out of there, although I may try to make at least one purely selfless decision this week.

SM: I completely agree, especially toward the end, when you think the one impoverished, brow-beaten, humble character will become a shining example of beneficence. But no, he too reeks of greed. I’m guessing it’s Shaw’s attempt to prove that an exploitative economic system turns all actors (pun intended) into shadows of the people they should be. What an uplifting thought. I was definitely glad we went for beers afterward.

 

The girl
Sartorius, played by David Parkes, raised and educated his daughter to outrank him in society. She is so spoiled that she trumps him at home, too. Blanche Sartorius, played by Kathy Logelin, seems to play two roles in Shaw’s vision. The first is the desperate social climber, so entrenched in her own achievements that she has come to believe in her own superiority. The second is an early example of the abusive matriarch.

JK: I don’t like Blanche as a person, but as a character, she’s great. She kept me guessing from the start. I thought she was just bossy with Trench (her love interest, played by P.J. Powers), but when she gets really mean with the maid, it threw me for a loop.

There are a couple of great lines in here. My favorite is an exchange with her father, in which she says she doesn’t want to marry a fool (speaking of Trench), and her dad says, “Then I think you will have to take a husband over 30.”

SM: I snorted at that line, too, but only because my life experience tells me to shoot for a man who’s at least 50 if I want a non-idiot. Blanche personified for me the maxim that the bitchiest girls always get the guys. So I’ve tried to be cruel to young people and puppies since we saw the play. But as off-putting as I found her to be, I also admired her unapologetic attitude toward going after what she wants (which is easier, of course, when you wear tight clothes and are well-endowed). She was whiny, self-centered and downright evil at times, but she grabbed life by the horns. It is a shame that Shaw seems to equate a strong female personality with evil.

Costumes
The set is straightforward: A couple of chairs and a desk that, when shifted around, become a hotel patio and the Sartorius home. The simplicity of the set contrasts with the extraordinary detail of the costumes; it’s a delight to behold. From outrageous hair (Sartorius sports a faux-hawk, extreme yet also utterly appropriate) to disturbingly high breasts (Blanche is probably sporting an industrial strength push-up bra), the attention to detail makes the characters unique yet representative of the time period. But a Tony award should go to whomever dressed Lickcheese; the fired henchman returns to Sartorius’ home near the end of the play in a fabulous pimped-out getup that’s impossible to forget, however badly you may wish to.

JK: Do you think Shaw meant to illustrate the power of boobs with Blanche’s busty dresses? Maybe that’s why she can treat the men in her life so terribly without recourse.

SM: It worked, didn’t it? Even I sat transfixed, but then coughed and looked away.

Social commentary
The play takes a gripping turn when we learn why it’s called “Widowers’ Houses,” an allusion to biblical texts prohibiting the stealing of land owned by widows or other vulnerable members of society. When Mr. Lickcheese, played by Terry Hamilton, makes his debut, it’s as Sartorius’ henchman, the rent collector for a system of tenement housing owned by Sartorius. Lickcheese, a dedicated employee, has helped Sartorius attain wealth by forcing the poorest of poor to pony up rent “when no other collector alive could have gotten it out of them. I screwed and worried and bullied it out of them.” Yet his dedication leaves him with little, and he’s fired for spending a meager sum to fix a broken stair. Lickcheese appeals to Trench — who could just as easily be a Lincoln Park yuppie as an English gentleman — for help. Caught off guard, Trench is forced to confront his own role in perpetuating poverty.

SM: Trench’s internal struggle over whether to accept the life Sartorius offers him or to walk away from the money and a future with Blanche is the most compelling and thought-provoking portion of the play. One has to wonder if gentrification, for example, is the byproduct of a compassionate society. Where did all the residents of Cabrini Green go when wealthier folks moved into the neighborhood?

JK: Shaw seems to have the most sympathy for Trench, which strikes me as odd. Perhaps because Trench is book smart, but meeting Sartorius is his first experience requiring social intelligence, which he lacks.

Cokane
Thankfully, Cokane, played to perfection by Mark Richard, lightens the mood considerably. In his attempts to bully Trench into proper comportment, Cokane becomes the biggest ass of all. His one-liners are delivered perfectly in an English accent any American will identify as coming from the region of “Snooty,” and the utter inappropriateness of his concerns bring levity to the message that far too often we are concerned with the most superficial of things. When Cokane confronts Trench over a stolen kiss with Blanche, for example, he exclaims “Oh Trench! Oh Trench! No my dear fellow, bad tactic! We not only saw but heard it positively reverberate down the Rhine!” And later, encouraging Trench to remain calm: “Suavity, Harry. Suavity.”

SM: I was kind of jealous of Cokane’s ability to shamelessly speak his mind. Often, I want to critique the social indelicacies of the people I am with, but am too bound by propriety to do so. Plus, it’s hard to criticize anyone while wearing track pants and a tank top, in my opinion the perfect outfit for any situation.

JK: He’s a funny reminder of how stupid people sound when they drop names or shamelessly suck up to someone else. I love that he’s described throughout the play as “having tremendous tact.” Shaw has forever changed the meaning of “tact” for me. From now on, it will be a Cokane reference — a lighthearted jab at brown-nosing.

“Widowers’ Houses” runs May 5 – July 1 at TimeLine Theatre, 615 W. Wellington Ave. Call (773) 281-TIME (8463) or visit timelinetheatre.com for tickets or more information.

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