STRANGE INTERLUDES - Eugene O'Neill

What's the longest play or movie you've seen?

There are some ridiculously long entries in the Guinness Book of World Records, many of which are experimental and aren't aiming at keeping an audience, so let's just stick to mainstream box office movies.

The Lord of the Rings films averaged out at 3 hours and 48 minutes. A number of recent films tap out at near or just over the three hour mark.

It may come as a shock then, to the casual or occasional theatre consumer, to know that "Strange Interludes" by Eugene O'Neill, in its complete and unedited form, runs for between five and six hours. Yep... very nearly a complete day at work for many people. Take a cut lunch, maybe even a bed roll.

What I'm saying is, it's objectively long. Nine acts covering 25 years (and seeming to run for at least half of that), it is nonetheless a theatrical favourite. And despite my taking the piss due tom it's length, I liked it a lot too.

"Strange Interludes" became the first play to also be a national bestseller in print (it's length probably helped in that regard), won for O'Neill his second Pulitzer Prize for Drama (he would win a third with "Long Day's Journey into Night" in 1957) and it has been revived numerous times the world over. And, fortunately for audiences, often in a much shorter form. The Simon Stone adaptation at Sydney's Belvoir Theatre, for instance,  was cut to just two hours twenty, and that included the intermission.

It was instantly successful, critically acclaimed, significantly awarded and frequently revived. So what's it all about.

What's it all about

Nina Leeds is a thoroughly modern lady as we pick up the story shortly after the cessation of the first world war. She is in a state of mourning because her betrothed, Gordon Shaw, died in service of his country and she did not get to consummate the relationship.

Stricken with sadness and guilt, she volunteers as a nurse at a hospital for returning veterans, and offers herself sexually to some of the injured returned servicemen (but only those who fought). In a complex love quadrangle, she is surrounded by three men who in varying ways by three men:

- Charles Marsden... lifelong pal, confidante and platonic friend... or does he want more?

- Sam Evans... gosh-darned boy next door and friend of her former fiance Gordon. His motivations are of the highest order and he is willing to be patient as Nina continues to process her grief from Gordon's passing.

- Edmund Darrell... another acquaintance of Gordon's, and of Sam's. Something of a cad and a blighter at times, he pushes Nina towards the unexciting Sam whilst continuing to get a bit of Nina-loving on the side.

With the urging of both other men, Nina accepts a largely unloving betrothal to Sam and sets her mind to having a child with him who could replace Gordon... but her new mother in law confides in her that madness runs in the family and so any child she had with Sam could be similarly afflicted. Whatever will she do.

The slightly spoilerish response to that question is to mention some of the confronting plot elements of the show that had many up in arms when it was first produced... including mental health, promiscuousness, infidelity, abortion, and women with genuine agency.

What's significant about the play

The thing that makes this play standout is the frequent, ubiquitous use of soliloquys... not perhaps used theatrically a lot since the works of Shakespeare and his contemporaries, although a mainstay of soap operas some time after the original publication. The thing that makes it interesting, or novel... and even confusing... is that speakers will drift from direct speech to another character, to saying their unspoken thoughts out loud... that we can hear but others on stage cannot.

Something like... "Hello Pedro. That's odd, he didn't look up from his paper when I greeted him just now. Is he cranky with me. I'll try again. I said, Hello Pedro. Oh, this time he looked up. That's a start, but he doesn't appear happy."

It works, partly because it is novel, but probably more because it effectively highlights how the things we say don't necessarily line up with the things we mean. We see this in novels all the time, whether it's a first person narrative, or even the omnipresent narrator, but not so much in plays. And like I said, it does work in this play I found a lot of times where the distinction between what was obviously the internal monolog and the more public vocalisations was not always obvious.

I've said previously and it stands repeating... from the two O'Neill shows I've seen and read so far, I really enjoy his writing style. And I'd say this play is regarded as a masterwork because of it's unique (or at least uncommon) mix of spoken word and monologue, and it's coverage of several themes that were at least partly taboo at the time.

Themes addressed in "Strange Interlude" include grief, loss, insanity., unfaithfulness, the importance of appears., 

So, yes it's good, and yes I liked but... but... 

The problem is...

The length. This is, for my ability to engage and pay attention at least, an abominably long play. Five to six hours. Even the movie production I aw, that completely cut Scene 7 and made other slight and judicious cuts elsewhere only got the play down to three hours. And that would be ok, even 5 or 6 hours would be okay if it remained fresh throughout, but the play does circle through several topics several times over.

I really love Edmund... no I don't, I'm just using him... Hang on, I actually do. Edmund is also on a vacillators frequent flyer program... I need Nina, but I don't love her. Or I do. No I don't. But I do. Likewise Charles... we are just platonic friends, but maybe I want more... don't be silly, it's fine as it is.

So it's probably better to say it's not the length per se, it's the repetition and unresolving of resolved issues, then resolving again and so on.

Belvoir Theatre in Sydney did a version that was 2 hours on the stage with a twenty minute intermission. And there are many other instances of abridged versions. And even though I'm not a fan of tinkering with the playwright's words (go write your own play you lazy sods), I would take a stab and say that the shorter versions are more powerful for the brevity. The frequent shortening of the play speaks to a common concern about the length.

But back to why it's good

One of the things I liked the most is O'Neill's ability to make Nina a sympathetic character despite being flawed. Really flawed. I think Nina and Ibsen's Hedda Gabler may have become good friends. She is at times vindictive towards pretty much everyone in the play, including trying to hurt her son Gordon junior by revealing Sam wasn't his real dad, only for her revelation to fall flat. But she is also a very damaged woman, traumatised by the loss of he first fiance, and then by some of the actions that were to a degree trauma induced.

While the vacillating and prevaricating are a little over done (a by product of the play's length(, a cropped back version of that does an effective job of showing the guilt and internal torture of living with compromised decision making. Less, in this case might have been more.

The version I watched was a 1988 television production based on London staged version three years earlier. This film features Glenda Jackson as Nine (I have to be honest, not a huge fan... would like to see her provide a bit more light to go with her shade), Jose Ferrer as Nina's dad, and a VERY young Kenneth Branagh as a very young Gordon junior. It's not bad. But as mentioned before, even though it's 3 hours and not 6, it does go on a bit and it's a very dry and low-key production. 

My favourite performer was probably Edward Petherbridge, who I can't recall ever seeing before). He was particularly good at nuancing the switch from audible voice to monologue. Also, as a mix of someone standing on the outside looking on whilst also being a sage commentator and advisor to Nina,  his asides helped present the plot points and themes fairly clearly.

Yes, this could work in Goulburn today (s long as it's not too long) and I personally would love to go see it. Directors could have a lot of fun with the frequent monologs... including extracting a bit of occasional comedy as a character splits between the two.

Materials accessed:

"Strange Interlude." - script (1926). Available many places. This can be found many places. Here's a version from Internet Archive.

"Strange Interlude." - movie (1988). Available for free on Youtube.