The Retreat from Moscow : A Play About a Family

Rating:
Summary: Just saw it performed. Like bitter cold
Review: There are actually two books which play an important part in this play. THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW is a hardcover prop the husband carries around in the opening scene, reading from it whenever he wants to express anything about surviving a bitter cold catastrophe. His wife is producing an anthology of poetry which is still in notebook form, with a few loose pages lying on the floor in the living room area of the stage to be arranged in some order for the final manuscript stage. She quotes poetry that will surpass the knowledge of most people in the audience, but those of us who try to see the emotional point of it every time she starts spouting something completely different are in danger of getting lost in the multiplicity of words and insights. The third character is a 32-year-old unmarried son who drives down to see his folks the weekend before their 33rd wedding anniversary. He is surprised when his dad tells him the marriage is going to break up immediately, and nothing that anyone can do is going to change his mind about that. The son is the main go-between for his parents. In one scene, he even has his dad's new phone number but won't give it to his mom, who does not want a divorce, and when he offers to dial the phone so she can talk to her estranged husband, she has an emotional *Don't*patronize*me* response that makes her the real Napoleon in this theatrical version of The Retreat From Moscow. All of the characters get put through the wringer in quick scenes which progress steadily toward the three people getting over it. Death is a theme that hovers over the dramatic moments as a unique possibility that is finally just laughable. A few lines from "Dover Beach" by Matthew Arnold were part of the poem I knew best in this play, though it did not get to the end where everything is compared to ignorant armies clashing by night. Reading the book might be better than seeing the play if you are so interested in the poems that you would like to know them all better than I ever will.