by Patrick Hamilton, directed by Stuart Scadron-Wattles
Theatre and Company, Kitchener
November 8 to 23, 1996
A Stage Door Review by Roger Kershaw and Jim Lingerfelt

Theatre & Company puts twist on classic thriller

What motivates a man to be so cruel to a woman? This is one of the questions asked by Stuart Scadron-Wattles as he directs this bold new adaptation of Patrick Hamilton’s classic thriller, Angel Street, now playing at Theatre & Company in Kitchener. This Victorian stage mystery (filmed by George Cukor in 1944 under the name of Gaslight, and garnering an Oscar for Ingrid Bergman) has been given a modern bent. Set in present-day London, Wattles has arch-villain Manningham forcing his entire household to live as Victorians. This concept allows the audience to explore the many parallels between the two eras. In this production power and control are exerted through drug use and psycho-sexual manipulation, a creative and successful move by Wattles. Years after a robbery-murder, the criminal returns to the scene, with a new identity and bride, and moves into the house. Manningham carefully tries to drive his wife insane, while continuing his aborted search for valuable jewels hidden by the murder victim somewhere in the house. Mrs Manningham’s only clue to his machinations is the frequent dimming of their gaslights. She comes under the protection of Rough, the detective involved in the unsuccessful investigation of the original crime, who suspects Manningham has already murdered once. Aiding Rough are the two housemaids, Nancy and Elizabeth.
The juxtaposition of eras is accomplished by several inventive devices. At one or two instances we hear aircraft noise, as if the home were located near a modern airport. In another scene, the maid is caught hastily hiding a cordless phone under her Victorian apron. Conversely, Detective Rough, a modern-day visitor, carries a pocket watch. D’Arcy Poultney’s set and costumes are a visual feast. The translucent lace walls of the Victorian sitting room allow several interesting "behind-the-scenes" scenes to expand the play’s depth. His costumes and furnishings effectively create a world that is both contemporary and Victorian, deliberately blurring the period distinctions, and contributing to the sense of Bella’s paranoia.
While the production values of the play as a whole were remarkable, the casting diminished the effect. Too young for the role in the first place, Mike Peng’s Manningham is excessively mannered and artificial. Every scene he is in (and that is most) is painfully slow, and lacking palpable tension, whereas Linda Bush, as wife Bella, handles her difficult role moving between dreams, frightened insanity and cool vengeance with accomplished skill. Company member Kathleen Sheehy plays housemaid Elizabeth and, in her T&C debut, Stephanie Arango fails to conquer the role of sleazy, coke-snorting maid Nancy, further diminished by her inconsistent accent. Theatre & Company veteran and the always reliable Alan Sapp plays Columbo-detective Rough.
Although unquestionably an enjoyable interpretation of this classic, the two-and-a-half-hour production needs a pep pill to boost tension. Angel Street is playing at Theatre & Company’s Water Street Theatre in downtown Kitchener until November 23. For tickets ($19 or less) phone the box office at 519/571-0928.

Director's Notes:
    Why adapt a perfectly good Victorian thriller? Why twist the characters and muddy the waters? What do I hope to gain by "explicating" the play with a prologue and epilogue, by intensifying the sexual and drug use content of the original, by tightening some of the language?
    In the first place, Angel Street is not Victorian. Patrick Hamilton wrote it in 1938, using the setting of Victorian London to give an atmosphere of repression for his story. Hamilton began by borrowing another time for his story. We are borrowing yet another for his play.
    For me, it began by noticing how many times the two men in the play tell Bella and Nancy to "go to bed." I then began to look at the gender assumptions in the play. In the original version, there are two types of men: The manipulative scoundrel (Manningham) and the kindly father figure (Rough). The women are likewise divided into virtuous (Belle and Elizabeth) and nefariously erotic (Nancy).
    While the story is filled with interesting twists and explorations of the relationships between men and women, the narrative underneath-- the basic assumptions-- would not hold. I began to ask "what if" questions:
    What if the setting were contemporary London, in an older home, and Manningham, a contemporary man with a yearning for things Victorian, decided to dress up the women in his household. Bella is thus made to believe that she is in more romantic and sheltered setting. Manningham hires two maids: Nancy, a former street girl who does the clubs, and Elizabeth, the older one who will do the windows and the dusting. He of course, has no idea that the latter is an undercover policewoman.
    What if Rough were not the avuncular figure played by Leo G. Carroll in the Broadway production, but a burned-out private investigator who had been unable to close the case on this earlier crime, witnessed when he was still a police sergeant? What if we explored the parallels between Bella and Nancy, both of whom are "acquired" by Manningham for his own ends?
    My questions began to provide me with some answers. The ending of the original script, for instance, does not make sense for our times. Bella is given this wonderful monologue of revenge, after which she stands apart, trembling with homicidal rage. ROUGH takes her by the shoulders sternly... He slaps her across the face. She is momentarily stunned. ELIZABETH enters, gets a glass of water, brings it down to MRS. MANNINGHAM and gives her a drink. Her wild fury has given way to weeping.
    Men and their servants, snapping women out of their "inappropriate" emotions. Civilization conquers all. We do not subscribe to that narrative any more. The new narrative I was exploring suggested a different ending, without needing to change the text. In fact, it is a contemporary reading of the text which was suggesting the new narrative.
    But does Angel Street support another narrative, one in which Bella attempts liberation, one in which the correspondence between the married woman Bella and the hired maid Nancy is explored, one in which salvation is attained at a price?
    I began to construct a prologue and epilogue, using a Rossini aria as a background. (The Italian text of this aria from Maometto II begins: "Righteous Heaven, in such danger there is no counsel and no hope to be found....") Designer D'Arcy Poultney and I dreamed up a world which was both contemporary and Victorian, deliberately blurring the period distinctions in costume and furnishings to give us a feel for Bella's condition and in order to allow us to transcend the time period and concentrate on the narrative. D'Arcy designed a set which allows us to see through walls to action which occurs outside of the room. This both gives us some sense of Bella's paranoia and tells us that there is a world beyond this room which is behaving differently.
    What are we saying? Is there a message here? I hope not. Artists may need to deliver, but that does not make us couriers.
    Is there meaning? I certainly hope so. I hope that we have left our audience enough important touchstones to find appropriate meaning for themselves. This thriller deals with a man who is using his wife to his own ends. Her medical history and need for love makes her vulnerable, and he uses that vulnerability. But how is it resolved? How is justice done?
    A thriller is intended to expose us to vicarious danger. In so doing, it usually exposes its protagonists to the threats of our society and then defuses or explodes those threats by whatever means the writer believes will save us. How is Bella saved from Manningham? How will she guard herself in the future, or can she? What is Nancy left with at the end? My belief is that if our audience members use our production and their imaginations to answer these questions for themselves, they will gain far more than if I tried to explain.
    Our production of Angel Street is not for those who believe that art should be as easy as popcorn, those who are addicted to dramatic naturalism. (If you are a first-time visitor to Theatre & Company, you should know that we do not often adapt pieces in this deconstructive manner; we just reserve the right to do so.) When D'Arcy-- who lives in Halifax-- first saw the run through of the prologue early this week, he said: "Well. I'm confused. That's good." Our purpose is not to conceal or confuse, but we do intend to provoke our audience to uncover meaning for themselves. The prologue signals that.
    Having told you what the play is not, at least intentionally, I leave you to decide what it is, and whether it is necessary theatre. Thank you for coming to see and to hear for yourself.
    Sincerely,
    Stuart Scadron-Wattles
    Artistic Director