Edward Albee (1928–2016)

I have seen the film version of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" many times, which follows the play very closely, with the exception of some locale changes. I am still astounded by this play, and the fact that its central mystery, no matter how many times I read it, will never be uncovered. It is a play that is simultaneously avant-garde and accessible, that cuts through the pretension that exists in most "Broadway-worthy" dramatic work that came before it, and that has come after. WAOVW show more shows, more effectively than any other play I know, how people behave when their masks are supposedly off--when other, deeper layers of defenses are revealed. Although in the script, Martha and George do admit to being childless, to never having had the "son" they speak so much of--whether or not he ever existed can never truly be known. Because George and Martha are such expert game-players, constantly trying to fool themselves, and each other--the "truth" gets lost in that process. This play has been labeled a "dark comedy", but I would call it a "tragicomedy". This work is also very reflective of the early 1960's when it was written--when the social constraints of the 1950's were being sloughed off, and the swinger movement had entered the mainstream. However--George and Martha, or at least Martha, are so far from the stereotype of "swingers" that to label their characters as such would be an insult. As much as both of them are down to earth, they are also academics (or at least a "closet academic" in Martha's case).

The play is essentially "a performance within a performance"; the characters put on their party hats and play the roles of "party personalities", displaying all the faults and enthusiasms of cruel children. George and Martha are the Alpha-Couple, with Martha being the "Alpha Female"--or so it seems. Nonetheless--although George is consistently hounded by Martha--George also wields power in the relationship. In the end, both George and Martha play the fool; yet beneath their chaotic facades, both possess considerable wisdom. They are just trying to get through life; they are failures; they are laughing at themselves; still, one wishes that it could be so much better for them. If life is truly as ugly as the example provided by WAOVW--what other choice do they have, than to be as they are, and go on as they have been? Although the relationship as it is displayed in "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" make it appear that George and Martha have a hellish relationship, that may not actually be the case. The end of the play indicates a capacity on both their parts to, at least temporarily, makes peace with their tragedy, and with each other, thus making it bearable for them to go on living, with themselves and with one another. show less

The dialog in this play is brilliant, fast-paced and biting. Both hilarious and painful to watch/read. The thing about it that really kills me though is when Martha is talking to Nick and asks who he thinks is the only man who's made her happy and he guesses one of her affairs, but she says "George, my husband." So heartbreaking what we do to someone we love and what we put up with from someone we love.

I might have started off this review by talking about the inextricable link between humour and gut-wrenching sorrow in this play, but luckily one of the characters has already done it for me:

NICK: All right... what do you want me to say? Do you want me to say it’s funny, so you can contradict me and say it’s sad? Or do you want me to say it’s sad so you can turn around and say no, it’s funny. You can play that damn little game any way you want to, you know!

Indeed you can. And George show more and Martha play it both ways, backwards and forwards and up and down, taking a perverse pleasure in airing their dirty laundry in front of an audience: the young couple, Nick and Honey, who are at first embarrassed and later too entangled (horrified? amused? absorbed?) to leave. And we, too, as an audience, can’t look away from the fiery wreck of Martha and George’s marriage—it’s nasty, it’s explosive, it’s cruel, it’s embarrassing, but it’s undeniably fascinating. Partially because of their unrestrained hatred, and partially because at the bottom of it there’s real feeling, which keeps the sense of tragedy alive and well throughout the play’s runtime.

An evening that is at first merely awkward becomes downright hellish, as we’re treated to a vision of domestic inferno where George and Martha work as each other’s perfectly tuned instruments of torture. They know each other better than anyone else, and they load up each other’s flaws and secrets into their bows to shoot out like arrows from across the room. But the cruel, clever, bitter, corrosive genius of this play is that George and Martha don’t just require spectators—they want participants. Honey and Nick are drawn into their bloodbath, maybe out of a sense of politeness at first but later forced to stay because they’ve got skin in the game too, George and Martha have got the goods on their relationship and won’t hesitate to use it as ammo to add some spice to their sick little games, regardless of the pain they leave in their wake. The bitterness at the heart of George and Martha’s relationship is contagious, and it slowly creeps into and overtakes every line of dialogue, every interaction.

Speaking of dialogue, that’s really what put Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf over the top for me, in terms of giving it five stars—Edward Albee truly has an ear for the nuances of dialogue in that I never had to check who was speaking, every voice was very clear and distinct. And as the characters get steadily more inebriated, their dialogue becomes surprisingly realistic drunk person dialogue, from the sudden bursts of anger or childish delight to the moody periods of melancholy and bitter reminiscence and ugly combativeness. Top-notch writing from Albee here, which makes this play as riveting to read as it would be to experience on the stage or screen.

But man, if ever a work of fiction has strengthened my desire to never be married... show less

Read: October 2016

Rating: 2/5 stars

The play covers one late night encounter between two couples who on the surface of things couldn't be more different. George and Martha are older, middle-aged and with horrible, bitter feelings towards each other. They are so spiteful and hateful but I think the behaviour portrayed seems realistic for a long term, unhappy marriage. They are co-dependant and miserable yet don't do anything to change their lives or marriage for the better.

The younger couple show more are newly-weds in their twenties and they have been invited to Martha and George's house for a late night drink. At first you assume that Nick and Honey are the couple to 'root for' in the drama. They seem happy and well adjusted on the surface but it is soon revealed that in their own ways they are just as bitter, unhappy and spiteful as their older counterparts.

The reason for my low rating is that although technically I can see that Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf is well-written and dramatic with these brilliantly awful characters, I just didn't like it. I think Albee wanted the audience for his play to feel uncomfortable, like they were witnessing something distasteful and personal and in that respect he succeeded too well because it was a relief to finish this play and move on to something else. show less