Arms and The Man
It’s 1885 and the Balkan Wars are in full swing. Young Raina Petkoff (Ellen Adair), daughter of a noble Bulgarian family, is thrilled to hear of her fiancee’s successes on the field of battle; she’s had some niggling doubts about the validity of concepts like patriotism and martial honor. But the valor and fearless ferocity of her betrothed, Sergius (James Ryen), satisfies her uncertainties and leaves her bubbling over: "To think that it’s really all true," she chirps to her mother Catherine (Bobbie Steinbach, herself a comic force), "that this world is a glorious world..."
Well, maybe. But the glories of the world are complicated, and when a fleeing Swiss officer in Serbian uniform stumbles into her room in the dead of night, to a cacophany of gunfire, Raina finds her heart unexpetedly tugged toward him. Exhausted and starving, grateful for a few chocolate creams, the soldier--his name is Bluntschli (Barlow Adamson)--opens Raina’s eyes to a new way of seeing the world; not as an enchanted place swathed in veils of romance and grand feelings, but rather as a mundane mileau where the practical takes precedence over dreamy visions, and chocolates are more meaningful to the old war-dog than gun cartridges. Bluntschli is a mercenary; he fights as and when needed, as a matter of professional services rendered, and not for any noble cause.
Shaw wets his blade with the sacred ichor of battle, but he’s not done there; his play goes on to skewer love, as well: when Segius returns home, his reputation the worse for wear after his glorious cavalry charge into firing range of a Serbian machine-gun battery, it’s in full swagger: Sergius struts, declaims, and strikes poses in a juicy performance by Ryen. He seeks a worthy opponent in civil life as in warfare; at one point he declares that should an underling have the courage to spit in his face, he would provide the fellow with a pension. How delighted Sergius must be, then, to discover the charms of Raina’s servant Louka (a sassy, commanding Sarah Abrams), who--like Raina--is someting of a modern woman: she sees no reason to be anyone’s subordinate, least of all a man’s.
It matters not a whit that Louka is already engaged to fellow servant Nicola (Peter A. Carey); a charged battle of wits and wills is soon underway between the officer and the serving girl.
Complicating matters further is the reappearance of Bluntschli, whose grasp of the administrative aspects of soldiering comes in handy for Sergius and for Raina’s father (Ken Baltin, in a sweeping performance). As enemies become allies and allies become rivals, Shaw’s tumultuous farce is given a tight and energetic reading by a talented cast.
The theatre space is a cozy, intimate one, and the set a compact jewel of dressing and design; the set change between Acts I and II is a bit of comic business in itself. Costumer Molly Trainer creates clothing that look authentic in style and color. John Cuff’s lighting design is easy on the eyes and brings out the set and costumes while suffusing the mood with bright hues suited to the comic tone.
The three acts are presented in two parts, with an intermission between Act II and Act III. The performance time is two hours, but it doesn’t feel that way; the time glides by in this delightful rendition of a 19th century masterpiece.
The Boston Lyuric Stage Company, 140 Clarendon Street, Boston (on the second floor of the YWCA). Tickets: Prices range from $23 - $33 for 2 pm matinees; $37 - $45 for weeknights; and $38 - $48 for weekends. Schedule: Wednesday May 4 - Saturday, June 2. Wednesdays and Thursdays at 7:30 p.m.; Fridays at 8 p.m.; Saturdays at 4 (matinees) and 8 p.m.; Sunday matinees at 3 p.m. Wednedsday 2 p.m. matinees on May 9 and May 30. Group sales and senior and student discounts available. Ticketing by phone at 617-585-5678 or online at www.lyricstage.com.
