Playwright: J.B. Priestley. At: Remy Bumppo Theatre Company at the Greenhouse, 2257 N. Lincoln Ave. Tickets: 773-404-7336; Article Link Here ; $37.50-$52.50 . Runs through: Jan. 12
In Western literature, the "uninvited guest" traditionally turns out to be the Death, but this time, the family dinner celebrating the happy ( and financially lucrative ) engagement of manufacturing-empire heirs is interrupted by an uninvited, well, inquisitor. The intruder identifying himself as Police Inspector Goole informs his hosts that a young woman has recently committed suicide, leaving a diary that implicates one of them in her decision to end her life. He then produces a photograph of the victim and recounts the steps leading to her desperate act. One by one, the prospective bride and groom, along with the former's parents and brother, come to realize how each of them have cruelly wronged the wretched creature lying in the municipal morgue.
On its surface, J.B. Priestley's play—written in 1945, but set in 1914—is a straightforward whodunit, its dramatic query revolving on disclosure of the person responsible for the unnatural death of an innocent. It could also be a thriller, premised on blameless citizens detained by a menacing stranger ( whose accent assumes an ominous regionalism when its owner grows agitated ). Gradually, however, the nature of the Birling clan's crimes point to the social criticism inherent in the author's intent.
This brand of dialogue-driven drama is the Remy Bumppo company's stock-in-trade, so it should come as no surprise that this production, directed by David Darlow and featuring a cast of classically-trained troupers led by Nick Sandys as the laconic Inspector Goole, quickly snags its audience's attention through the spectacle of wealthy capitalists at leisure and then proceeds to expose the ugly underside of this complacency. Having allowed ourselves to share in the fantasy, we can only watch in suspense as guilt is meted out where deserved.
It's easy for us Yanks to argue enlightened labor practices and opportunities for economic advancement exceeding those Priestley castigates, but the accusations hurled at the outraged captives are disturbingly applicable to our own society today, where the indifference of the rich and powerful to the suffering of the poor and disenfranchised too closely echoes that of England's pre-World War One industrial counties. By the end of the evening, some of the culprits have taken their lesson to heart, some remain undecided, and some deny their complicity. With whom do you side, as you depart the theater for your comfortable homes?
