Match-Making

GOGOL'S THE MARRIAGE is not a children's play. It has no fantastic characters, like the playing-card Queen of Alice in Wonderland; it doesn't move with the slapstick speed of Punch and Judy. On the contrary, Gogol's characters, the bourgeois of 19th century Russia, are fairly ordinary people; the humor of inept matchmaking and awkward courtship is less visual than verbal. Nevertheless the show--performed Monday at Children's Hospital and weekends at Quincy House--speaks to the children in the audience. By simplifying the plot and exaggerating its comic elements. Scott Weiner's production gives The Marriage juvenile appeal, while offering an enjoyable show for the older audience members as well.

The marriage of Podkolyossin (Kevin Walker), a civil servant, and Agafya (Pamela Thomas), a merchant's daughter, seems inevitable early in the play. Podkolyossin has been toying with the idea of marriage--and trying the patience of matchmaker Madame Fyolka (Chris Hayes)--for three months when his friend Katcharev (Josh Milton) steps in to settle things once and for all. Kevin Walker is convincing enough as the indecisive and bumbling civil servant to make us pity his future wife--at least, until we see her other suitors, an unambiguously bad lot.

Large cardboard figures of a man and a woman, one standing on each side of the set, symbolize in a simple way the inevitability of the marriage. As Podkolyossin's marriage plans are discussed, the cardboard man holds out a hand to the unresponsive woman. When the cardboard female faces the male, it is Agafya's turn to talk of marriage and review her suitors. The two cardboard figures face each other in Act III, and the marriage is arranged. The pattern is obvious to all but the youngest in the audience.

IN FACT, Gogol's play is not so neatly consummated; the wedding at the end of The Marriage is director Scott Weiner's addition, borrowed from an earlier Gogol play, The Suitors. Gogol allowed Podkolyossin, still reluctant to marry, to escape out a window; Weiner has the wedding guests thwart his escape and drag him to the altar. The ending is more definite, and therefore more satisfying, particularly for the younger set.

To further appeal to children, Weiner flattened the character's personalities, exaggerating their identifying characteristics to make them simpler and more comical. As Katcharey, Josh Milton takes on the task of marrying off his friend with all the fervent energy of a missionary; Andrew Gould's Omelet, another of Agafya's suitors, who does the best job of making the audience dislike him, shouts, screams, and schemes from the moment of his first appearance. White masks painted on the faces of the actors heighten their stylization, making them cartoon versions of themselves. These masks emphasize the actors' exaggerated facial expressions, making the comedy more visual. Omelet's jaw, dropped in surprise, hangs at chest level for two minutes or more; the nervous suitor and his bride-to-be squirm, choke and bite their nails as they try to make innoucuous conversation.

The night this reviewer saw The Marriage the children in the audience enjoyed themselves immensely, rarely turning to adults for an explanation of a joke. And although The Marriage makes no pretensions to be more than a simple comedy, it won't bore those who have graduated from fairy tale. The play is genuinely funny; the humor never drags, and only one or two bad puns seem more deserving of a groan than a laugh. There may be much to explain, but there's plenty to enjoy.