Hartford Stage’s 25/26 season begins with the world premiere of Jeffrey Hatcher’s adaptation of Rope. This twisted plot appeals to the psychologically inclined and is deeply laden with philosophical nuance. The production tests the recipe for the theory that “idle hands are the devil’s playthings.” Using Frederich Nietzsche’s übermensch (superman) framework for morality, this crime drama explores hedonism and the fault lines of self-defined principles. It shows how a person’s mind bends to their emotional will and offers just a few ways the cookie of consequence crumbles.
Directed by Melia Bensussen, this story, set in the late 1920s in the Mayfair district of London, follows an evening in the company of the youth and ennui of Brandon (Daniel Neale) and Lewis (Ephraim Birney). Lewis, a brilliant composer in his own right, who seems bored with his own capacity is overtaken by the hedonistic whims of his longtime friend Brandon. Lewis is on the lead line while Brandon pulls the strings—the two, like restless children with too little restraint and too many resources to fuel their destructive imaginations, set out to test Brandon’s theory on murder for pleasure. High on hubris, Brandon contrives a dinner party with intentionally selected guests: Their friends Ronald, his fiancée Meriel (Fiona Robertson), his father Mr. Kentley (James Riordan), Kenneth (Nick Saxton), and their one-time school housemaster, Mr. Rupert Cadell (Mark Benninghofen).
Ronald is late to the dinner party which becomes a point of contention for Meriel and Mr. Kentley. As they discuss with the others what could be keeping him, Brandon and Lewis maneuver the evening with the most curious dispositions—Brandon parades around the party like a chess player with a secret upper hand against his unwitting opponent, while Lewis drinks himself into a stupor—growing more and more apparent in his discomfort. Rupert, being versed in the boys’ ways, detects a proverbial loose end in the boys’ gambit. As the evening progresses, he gently tugs at the exposed thread in their plans, unraveling something more menacing than his obsession with logic could ever allow him to anticipate.
Saxton and Robberson’s dance as Kenneth and Meriel convincingly hints at something revelatory in their tension—Saxton, the unsuspecting friend and Robberson the pseudo-jilted lover. Riordan dutifully delivers the half-absent father unaware of the truths circulating the whereabouts of his son. His depiction of oblivion tacks layers onto the themes just beneath the surface of the story’s point—the influences with which young men are raised are a force determining their outcome.
Birney personifies the tell-tale heart—credible in his performative lament of a man bruised by conscience. Benninghofen is a picture of wit, a depiction of years put to good use where even the throes of war are relegated to their logical mental compartment—necessary evils. Birney’s antithetical position to that of Neale’s creates a brilliant contrast amid themes of morality and the path a person’s values paves for them. Neale’s mastery of Brandon’s sadism and duplicity—of the sinister Schadenfreude required to flaunt his dalliance with criminality is unsettlingly good.
The scene is set—the sound design (Jane Shaw) features raindrops against tall windows and the faint noises of traffic. These blend with familiar reverberations of mystery. Accent lighting (Mary Louise Geiger) plays against the backdrop of the macabre soiree. Victorian stylings in Lewis’s flat drip with Brandon’s baroque preferences, suggesting academic opulence and grandeur (Riw Rakkulchon). Deliberate details hint at a life of cultivated taste and private indulgence. These accents highlight the boys’ privilege and show the foundation of their idleness—the absence of any need for striving.
This production is a portrayal of bad company corrupting good character. The message envelops a concern for generations of young men for whom virtue is a suggestion with a not-so-subtle warning of the unsuspecting world that stands to pay the price.
You can catch a showing of Rope at Hartford Stage through November 2nd. For tickets, visit https://www.hartfordstage.org/)
