Theatre review by Graham Hicks
Private Lives, by Noel Coward
At the Citadel Theatre in Edmonton, Canada until Feb. 24, 2013
Directed by Bob Baker
Starring John Ullyatt and Diana Donnelly

There’s a reason Noel Coward’s Private Lives is alive and kicking and powerfully relevant, 82 years after the drama premiered with Coward in the lead role.

It’s about his surgical dissection, in Private Lives, of the paradox of human love: Of societal norms suggesting a man and a woman (or combinations thereof) ought to meet, fall in love, marry, answer all of each other’s emotional, spiritual and physical needs, raise a family in harmony and wisdom, grow old together, and never fight.

Nothing should ever go wrong. Neither husband nor wife will ever be attracted to anybody outside the relationship. A Norman Rockwell picture is the epitome of the thoroughly contented family life.

Hah! Then there’s reality … which Noel Coward much prefers.

In Private Lives, love is hopeless when the personalities involved are too big and too individual and too moody to play within the rules.

In the play, divorcees Elyot and Amanda accidentally meet again, just, as it happens, on their honeymoons with new, lesser spouses.

Of course, five years after cutting all communication, they are hopelessly and irreversibly still in love. They are soul mates. They are bigger than life personalities. They amuse themselves endlessly. They are intellectual equals and make each other laugh. But, in the blink of an eye, just one wrong word or one too-smarmy comment and Elyot and Amanda are fighting like cats and dogs.

It is sad. It is tragic. That two should love with such passion and depth, yet have such anger as to make life-long companionship near impossible. Hence the pre-play divorce.

Coward empathizes with his characters. He sees no solution, nor does he offer any, other than their tip-toeing off the stage at the end … on their way to the next disagreement.

Coward loves their gigantic personalities, forgives their selfishness. The poor new wife (Sibyl) and hapless new husband (Victor) are sweet, caring, dull, weak, one-dimensional characters that Elyot and Amanda turned to for some kind of security and comfort. 

If there’s one thing Coward can’t stand, it’s dullness. 

Coward knows, the audience knows, that Elyot and Amanda could never settle for contentment, not when they have laid eyes on each other again.

In this play, romantic love is a towering thunderstorm, addictive, beautiful, loud and destructive. Elyot and Amanda leave their new partners shattered in their wake. 

Is it selfish? Absolutely. 

Is it fair? Of course not. 

Could it have been otherwise? No! 

Coward’s genius is to turn tragedy into high comedy. Selfishness, ego and foul moods can be easily forgiven when the individuals are so entertaining, witty and fast on their feet. Ferocious, physical Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf fights turn to hilarity when the set joins in the fun with a hidden hot tub, exploding ceilings and plummeting chandeliers. 

Yet within the farce and the laughs, Coward offers no solution. He sees no way for Elyot and Amanda – in contemporary terms, two classic manic-depressives – to find more happiness than grief.

Nor does he suggest the two jilted ones, the honourable, nice, and oh-so-dull Victor and Sibyl would work in their own love relationship. 

So Private Lives, a comedy of manners, celebrates overwhelming love as a beautiful trinket of the present that doesn’t work in the past, and is highly dubious in the future … even in the next few minutes.

But at least there is the love of the moment. And in that moment, it’s a magnificent thing.

Sigh.

It’s no slight on actors John Ullyatt and Diana Donnelly that their names don’t show up in this review until now; simply that the script and themes are so interesting. The duo's very fine tragic-comedic acting chops give the script and the under-lying themes full justice. 

Ullyatt does an excellent job of taking Elyot to the edge of campiness without falling off the cliff, of revealing glimpses of his character’s monster within, but only for seconds. Diana plays Amanda as the femme fatale that she truly is.

Director Bob Baker has a huge affinity for Coward’s shows, and , as always, has great fun with the interplay of emotions, words and physical humour – especially when the entire set and furniture is involved! 

Baker’s better shows are always choreographed as much as directed. There’s a seamlessness to this show, and it’s all about Baker’s intuitive understanding of the rhythm and mood within Coward’s words.

Private Lives runs at the Citadel until Feb. 24. 

***