Playwright: Paul Osborn
At: Drury Lane Theatre Water Tower Place
Phone: ( 312 ) 642-2000; $35-$48
Runs through: August 28
Not much happens in Paul Osborn's genteel 1939 comedy, Mornings at Seven. In the adjoining backyards of two Small Town America houses, four sisters and their three husbands—all older than 65—fuss over the next generation's marriage prospects, dicker over a house and gossip about the not-so-secret fling the Old Maid sister had years earlier. Two of the husbands have delayed mid-life crises, making the play a mildly mocking look at male menopause.
Most definitely, Mornings at Seven is about the characters not the story. It uses the pocket change of daily life—the small joys and aches of the heart—to mix the mucilage of marriage and blood that held families together in less frenetic and well-traveled times, and sometimes still does. The play is charming if the performances are charming, and so it is in this second production at the newest Drury Lane Theatre. It's also a little dull, proving that charm isn't everything. There's a difference between charming and engrossing, and this production doesn't achieve the latter.
What's missing is subtext or depth between the sisters, who have spent their lives within blocks of each other, if not right next door. One must feel they are four aspects of a single being with almost telepathic knowledge of each other, instinctively knowing when—and how—to attack each other, when and how to protect and defend each other. Only by plumbing the bittersweet depths of family love—and secondarily marital love—can Mornings at Seven achieve a purpose beyond pleasantry.
Director Jessica Thebus has assembled a splendid cast. The sisters are Chicago veterans Roslyn Alexander, Brigid Duffy and Mary Ann Thebus and guest star Katherine Helmond ( willingly submerging herself in an ensemble play ) . They have fine moments collectively and individually ( especially Alexander as the oldest and wisest sister ) , but the effect is inconsistent. Ditto the husbands played by excellent vets Robert Breuler, James Harms and Rob Riley. But we never understand the why and wherefore of the men's crises, although the symptoms are played meticulously and amusingly. Tim Decker and Hanna Dworkin are solid as the engaged, younger pair.
These short-comings might be self-solving as the cast grows into the play following perhaps too short a rehearsal period in Chicago. But the problems seem to emanate more from director Thebus. Given her many directing achievements it's difficult to say precisely what's wrong, but she seems to have underestimated the challenges of Mornings at Seven, seeing it and treating it merely as a comedy of manners, which it is. But if that's all you see, it's also going to be dull, which it is.
Jack McGaw's comfy back porch set is an appealing visual anchor, while the costumes ( Linda Roethke ) and wigs ( Christine Carlson ) are period perfect.
