Is a Dog Really Man’s Best Friend?

Media Studies

Jahanna Bolding

Dog is man’s best friend, right? But what happens when a female dog moves from a domesticated animal that provides joy and platonic companionship in a man’s life to something more akin to his mistress? What happens when a dog comes between a man and his wife? It should be an easy decision, right? These are questions posed by A. R. Gurney’s play, “Sylvia,” recently performed at the Clemson Little Theatre in Pendleton, South Carolina.

Greg, a middle-aged businessman in New York City going through a mid-life crisis, is glum. As a man who thrives off of working with his hands – interacting with the real things in the world – Greg is exhausted by the new abstract direction his job is taking. He feels that he is losing touch with himself and that his life is being controlled by his boss – he cannot find joy or a sense of control in his existence anymore. Greg is discouraged, lonely, and in need of a sense of purpose. So, enter Sylvia: a feisty puppy that provides constant affirmation and a sense of duty for Greg. Sylvia believes that Greg is her savior, her god, her everything… and Greg is more than happy to play the roles.

So, Greg is in the dumps and along comes a pup with an attitude that seems to instill a new sense of purpose in him… all should be well, right?

Wrong. Greg is married to Kate, a middle-school English teacher with large ambitions now that the children are all out of the house and in college. Kate dreams of teaching Shakespeare to underprivileged children. Her time is consumed by meetings, the adult social scene, and trying to keep up with her college-aged children. She loves Greg, but wants to micromanage him, and communication issues are subtly driving them apart. When Sylvia enters the scene, Kate quickly senses a threat to her comfort, control, and marriage. In Kate’s eyes, dogs are filthy, obnoxious, and unconducive to city life. But, Greg finds such life in Sylvia’s presence that, despite Kate’s constant protests, Greg refuses to send Sylvia away.

Instead, Greg begins to spend every free moment he has with Sylvia, and becomes obsessed with taking her to the park, pet salon, etc. In fact, he becomes so infatuated with Sylvia’s presence that he starts to leave work early a few days a week so that he can spend time with her. A few hours early a few days a week quickly turns into a few afternoons a week, which eventually leads to Greg quitting his job altogether. Who needs a job when you have a dog that adores you, right?

This event only continues to create a communication barrier between Greg and Kate, and the audience painfully observes their relationship troubles. After Greg quits his job, Sylvia chases away every friend they have, and Kate threatens to leave Greg and study in London for a summer if he does not rid himself of Sylvia, the couple goes to counseling. The therapist attempts to speak to Greg and Kate individually. It does not take much for the therapist to become unbearably frustrated with Greg and dumbfounded at his disturbing attachment to the dog, and the session ends with the therapist telling Kate that the only option is for her to divorce Greg and kill the dog.

However, soon after the therapy session, Greg magically realizes the severity of his situation and agrees to find Sylvia a new home in the suburbs. After an emotional goodbye scene between Greg and Sylvia, Kate realizes that she will actually miss Sylvia’s wild presence in the house and allows her to stay. The trip to London is called off, Sylvia stays with them for years to come, and the play ends with Kate and Greg bickering affectionately in remembrance of Sylvia, who has now passed away.

While this general summary of the plot may seem somewhat enjoyable, the play itself was an incredibly unpleasant experience. The problem was not so much the actors, the set, or the music, but the script.

First, the representation of modern marriage in this play is utterly disheartening. This is not because the portrayal is painfully false, but actually the opposite―it is so harshly realistic that it is sobering. Through most of the plot there is no grace, no communication, and no self-sacrifice―it is stale and selfish. While Sylvia initially drives Greg and Kate apart, she eventually seems to bring them back together in the end by speaking (yes, speaking) to Kate and explaining that all this time, the only thing Greg really wants is Kate’s love and attention, which he sought in Sylvia. To someone merely seeking entertainment in this production and not attempting to understand it as a cohesive whole, this interaction could perhaps seem tender. But, for those actually analyzing the plot, this interaction makes very little sense. Greg certainly wants love and attention – Kate does too. They’re human. But, neither Greg nor Kate show any evidence of actual love in the play (until Kate changes her mind). Even then, there is no realization of selfishness, there is no apology, there is no forgiveness―the play just ends with all of the marital problems shoved under the rug with no resolution and the hope of a grand, emotional ending. Unfortunately, this messy tying of knots did not have the desired affect―it just led to an abrupt, confusing, unsatisfying conclusion.

Another confusing and disorienting aspect of the play was that Sylvia was given the ability to speak. Instead of an attractive college-aged girl running around the stage and using only body language or barking to indicate thought or emotion, Sylvia just spoke. The thing is, Sylvia couldn’t decide whether she was a dog (running around the stage screaming, “I love you! I love you!”) or a human (offering insightful, witty, or harsh comments that could be expected from an actual college-aged girl). While this indisputably gave Sylvia character, it also provided an incredibly awkward stage dynamic. The dialogue, which was already poorly constructed, suffered from this.

Speaking of dialogue, this play certainly deserved its PG-13 rating. The adult language and raunchy subject matter was excessive, and the humor was taken a bit too far with many sexual references and jokes about Greg and Sylvia, and almost none about Greg and Kate. Though this was probably meant to be only amusing, it actually led to an overwhelmingly uncomfortable feeling of vague bestiality. The many attempts at empty philosophical statements made by the characters during dramatic moments were nonsensical and completely disjointed the lighthearted humor of the play.

The simple set and minimal cast―which was to be expected from a small town production of a lesser-known play―was charming. The Clemson Little Theatre itself was cozy and quaint, with comfortable seating, retro color schemes, and quality acoustics. However, unfortunately, not even the attractive atmosphere could make up for the poor dialogue and awkward stage dynamics.

Overall, I would not recommend Sylvia. The Clemson Little Theatre is lovely and local arts are a joy, but, in spite of the occasional humorous elements and whimsical interjections of Shakespeare, this particular production’s script was quite poorly constructed, and should be put to rest.

 

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