'Sylvia': Canine caper's humor goes to the dogs

‘SYLVIA’: Annaleigh Ashford & Matthew Broderick. Photo: Joan Marcus

SYLVIA
By A. R. Gurney
Directed by Daniel Sullivan
Cort Theatre
138 West 48th Street
212-239-6200, www.sylviabroadway.com

By David NouNou

Sylvia may have seemed cute as presented by Manhattan Theatre Club back in 1995 in the small and intimate Center Stage One, but in today’s world in which social media dominates (i.e., Facebook, Instagram and Pinterest to name a few, plus “dog blogs”), people post everything about their dogs from “stupid pet tricks” on YouTube and Vine videos on Instagram to dogs in Halloween costumes, among a myriad of other online pet antics. Sylvia’s paper-thin plot on a big Broadway stage has shrunk to a wisp of an idea even if you’re a fan of canine humor (and this is coming from a reviewer who is a dog lover and the owner of a golden retriever named Bagels).

The premise is simple. One day Greg (Matthew Broderick), while on a nature walk in Central Park, comes across Sylvia (Annaleigh Ashford), a dog that talks (in dog language, I assume), but is interpreted in English to enable Greg and the audience to know that they are communicating with each other. Greg is going through a mid-life crisis and Sylvia is his newfound love, bordering on mistress. He brings her home and his wife Kate (Julie White) is not happy with this arrangement. Their children are off to college, their marriage is getting routine, Greg skips work only to spend more time with Sylvia, and things get creepier and creepier. Oh, did I mention that Sylvia can be extremely foul-mouthed, gets horny at times, and loves to smell people’s crotches? This is the nature of this comedy.

I wish I could tell you more, but there really isn’t much more to say other than the constant walks to the park with Sylvia during which Greg meets a fellow dog owner, Tom (Robert Sella,) who explains to Greg the facts of life and the special bond between men and their dogs. Kate in turn runs into a friend, Phyllis (also played by Robert Sella in drag). Both Kate and Greg go to a therapist, the androgynous, Leslie (Robert Sella again); for Leslie can be either a man’s or a woman’s name, so Leslie allows the patient to pick which gender they want to speak to. Somewhere in that mix is a showdown between Kate and Sylvia.

The cast consists of formidable names. Starting with Annaleigh Ashford, who has been making quite a sensation on Broadway in the last few years; getting a Tony nomination for Kinky Boots a couple of years ago and winning one this year for You Can’t Take It With You, is delightful as usual but what with the aforementioned social media making it harder and harder these days to appreciate a feisty talking dog on stage, all is not kibbles and bits.

Julie White, who always brings such pathos to the characters she portrays, whether in her Tony-winning role in The Little Dog Laughed or in her Tony-nominated role earlier this year in Airline Highway, does her best considering the material she’s given. This woman can do everything that involves comedy or drama, but even she seems to flounder as the exasperated but valiant wife in dealing with Sylvia.

The evening’s most delightful performance is provided by Robert Sella as the geeky Tom, the haughty Phyllis and the androgynous Leslie. Mr. Sella gives us three distinct characters and three desperately needed gems.

Oy, and now to the hardest. Matthew Broderick was such an incredible talent when I first saw him in Torch Song Trilogy, followed by Brighton Beach Memoirs (for which he won his first Tony Award as Eugene Jerome). By the time he did Eugene again in Biloxi Blues, a pattern was emerging: the disengaged youth. Call it a curse or a blessing; Mr. Broderick hasn’t seemed to age a day in 32 years. At 53, he still has that boyish face, but his performances have turned from disengaged to laconic to downright somnambulant. Ever since he played Leo Bloom in 2001 in The Producers, he has been playing the same character over and over again: Last year in It’s Only a Play, three years ago in Nice Work If You Can Get It, plus The Philanthropist and The Starry Messenger, just to name a few.

Considering Sylvia’s wispy and dated plot, Mathew Broderick’s low-energy performance, and Daniel Sullivan’s flimsy direction, there is hardly any reason to sit up, pant or roll over with delight

Edited by Scott Harrah
Published October 30, 2015
Reviewed at press performance on October 29, 2015