Playwright: Gérald Sibleyras,translated by Tom Stoppard. At: Remy Bumppo Theatre Company
at the Greenhouse, 2257 N. Lincoln. Phone: 773-404-7336; $35-$50. Runs through: Nov. 29
Three eccentric comrades plan an adventure. Within this simple premise lurks innumerable possibilities. Speed it up, and you have a Marx Brothers comedy. Slow it down, and you have a Samuel Beckett tragedy. Set the action on the river Thames, and you have Jerome K. Jerome's Three Men In A Boat. Put a painting in the background, and you have Yasmina Reza's Art.
Gérald Sibleyras locates his trio of WWI veterans on the terrace of a retirement home for soldiers in 1959. His platoon is comprised of Henri, a cheerful codger with a crippled leg. Gustave, who conceals his agoraphobia beneath a veneer of pessimism. And Philippe, given to sudden attacks of vertigo rendering him temporarily unconscious. Standing guard is a life-sized statue of a dog who gradually becomes an indispensable part of the proposed mission. The objective: to reconnoiter the territory lying beyond an adjacent cemetery, identified only by the poplar grove whose wind-swept treetops hint at relief from their rigidly circumscribed universe.
Of course, it all comes to nothingbut not for want of trying. As we watch these graybeards equip themselves for their journey in accordance with military training from a half-century earlier, we come to appreciate the stakes in this seemingly frivolous scheme. Oh, its success might not be a literal matter of life or death, but who can measure the importance of retaining control over one's time, of engaging with a world ready to shrug off one's mortal coil, of refusinglike the unseen fellow resident who continues his athletic regimen with no sign of abatementto go gentle into one's good night.
Remy Bumppo director James Bohnen has wisely cast actors of an age approximating those of the characters they play, ranging from elder statesman Mike Nussbaum as the serene Henri, through David Darlow in the role of the irascible Gustave, to baby-of-the-bunch ( but decidedly post-AARP ) Roderick Peeples as the fretful Philippe. It's easy to imagine younger, more robust, players sprinting through Tom Stoppard's witty translation with gleeful abandon. But these troupers, whose personal and professional progress has presumably taught them the value of more leisurely gaits, balance contemplative silences with lightning repartee in just the right proportions to secure our hearty endorsement of geezers determined toby gum!live every last minute of their lives.