UNTIL SHE SLEEPS at the White Bear Theatre

★★★

“There are many complicated strands to the play – probably too many – which dampens the suspense.”

Edward and Henrietta Dunbar are all surface. In public – especially down at the golf club – their silky, satin finish hides a variety of cracks like the finest emulsion. But behind the smooth talk and polished speech, and behind closed doors, we see a very different story. Brad Sutherland’s new play, “Until She Sleeps”, centres on this oddly caustic couple as they navigate the minefield of mistrust and cruelty. The misgivings extend out into the audience; we are never sure whether they are playing a cruel game for others’ benefit or for their own perverse amusement. They are bound to attract comparisons to Edward Albee’s Martha and George, particularly when the less colourful pair – Peter and Nicola – are reluctantly sucked into their orbit.

Henrietta, it turns out, is battling motor neurone disease. At first, she is in the early stages and Edward has his suspicions that she might be faking it. We never really get to grips with his qualms which are swiftly brushed aside and subsequently ignored. Similarly, the subtext of euthanasia is explored briefly, touching on the legal and moral complexities, but not followed through until a passing mention later on. Blackmail and fidelity are subjects more successfully handled, which are expressed through Sutherland’s often sharp dialogue rather than exposition, yet just as we are enjoying the more emotive moments, we are led back into pragmatic issues such as tax evasion and probate.

At its heart, though, is paranoia. A sickness more destructive and toxic to the marriage than Henrietta’s progressing disability. Jonathan Hansler manifests the frustrations with an incisive portrayal of a husband who never knows if he is the culprit or the victim. It is a strong performance, levitated with shades of John Cleese on a bad day. Tonya Cornelisse, as Henrietta, vacillates between a provocative closed coolness, and her exposed anger. Her rich, sultry voice dominates the stage, making it all the more tragic when her illness robs her of the power of speech.

Rowland D. Hill and Robin Miller, as Peter and Nicola respectively, are simultaneously the foils and conscience. Less complex, their characters are more weakly written. Miller struggles sometimes with the character of a woman denied the pleasures of an affair, while her lines veer towards simplicity rather than the complexity they require. Hill has more success as he rebuffs Edward’s attempts to lure Peter into his web of subterfuge. These scenes, away from the probing ears of Henrietta (or so we think), enhance the smokescreen effect of deceit and secrecy.

Despite the odd instance of clumsy blocking, David Furlong’s direction keeps the narrative fast paced and succinct (every now and then we fast forward a year or so) yet manages to take a breath for the humour to relieve the darkness. The isolation often found in a relationship is occasionally played for laughs before being plunged back into pathos. There are many complicated strands to the play – probably too many – which dampens the suspense. And sometimes the actors appear to be struggling to keep up. Yet despite the complexities we eventually find ourselves on the straight and narrow. The brief appearance of Nurse Millie (Orsolya Nagy) is an odd and superfluous decision. The intention is maybe that she steers us towards the play’s conclusion, but it is only when Edmund and Henrietta are left alone again that we can actually reach it. Saying very little, Hansler powerfully turns his character around with a quiet, emotionally charged performance that answers more of our questions than the rest of the evening managed to.