From The City Paper 11/11/2004:

Sylvia runs with the big dogs
By AMY STUMPFL
 
All right, I admit it. I'm a dog lover. I spoil my little terrier, Lucy; I let her sit on the couch with me. (In fact, I sometimes ask my husband to move so that she may be more comfortable.) I sing to her and surprise her with little treats. And there are those who might think I'm a bit extreme in my devotion to Lucy. Clearly, these unfortunate souls have not yet seen the Tennessee Repertory Theatre's production of Sylvia.

Written by A.R. Gurney, Sylvia examines the unique and often profound relationship between dogs and their humans. The contemporary classic focuses on Greg and Kate - a happily married couple who seem to have it all. With their children out of the nest, Kate is enjoying the freedom of their Manhattan lifestyle and has embarked on a fulfilling career teaching Shakespeare to inner-city kids. Then along comes Sylvia, a stray dog that Greg finds wandering Central Park. The sassy mutt soon becomes the center of Greg's world, shaking up his priorities, career - and his marriage.

On the surface, Sylvia might appear to be a simple love letter to pet owners everywhere. But the clever comedy explores much deeper issues. How do you move on when your life's work no longer holds meaning? What happens when a husband and wife find that they're moving in different directions?

Directed by Mark Cabus, who recently starred in the Tennessee Rep's production of Inherit the Wind, Sylvia features a wonderful cast of talented performers.

Richard McWilliams is quite likeable as devoted dog-owner Greg. He plays the role with boyish charm and wonder, completely infatuated with his new love - and equally frustrated by his wife's resentment of her. Audience members relate to Greg's obvious passion for his pet, chuckling and nodding with approval when he declared, "We should all have a dog - it should be part of the Constitution."

In Kate, Jennifer Jewell faces the difficult challenge of playing adversary to the completely loveable Sylvia. We may recognize the logic behind her anti-dog stance, but the constant hand wringing and pacing borders on monotonous. Besides, it's difficult to sympathize with a woman who threatens to put d-CON in Sylvia's kibble. Jewell does bring an element of style to the role, however, and demonstrates true emotion in her response to the "other woman."

Bobby Wyckoff pulls triple-duty as Tom (a macho dog-lover with all the answers), Phyllis (a Manhattan socialite who believes all men should be Republicans: "It seems to be good for the prostate."), and Leslie (the nasally therapist of somewhat ambiguous gender). With all three characters, Wyckoff uses his incredible comic timing and over-the-top facial expressions to hilarious effect.

Still, it is clearly Jenny Littleton's show, as she embraces the title role with boundless energy. As she joyfully scratches, sniffs and nuzzles, Sylvia reminds us all of what we love about our dogs. (I especially enjoyed the bit where she curses out a passing cat by calling the feline every name under the sun!)

But Littleton steps far beyond the mere imitation of a dog to expose Sylvia's true soul. Gazing at Greg with complete adoration, she admits that she has no solution for his predicament.

"I really can't contribute anything to this conversation," she admits during one of his more heartfelt monologues. "But I love you."

And after all, isn't that what life is all about? We're all searching for something in this world - truth, happiness, love. For whatever reason, dogs - and yes, even cats - can help us along the way. Sylvia doesn't pretend to have all the answers, but it does offer a candid and truly entertaining look at America's love affair with pets.

Getting there
What: Tennessee Repertory Theatre presents Sylvia
When: Through Nov. 20. 7:30 p.m. Thursdays and Fridays; 2:30 p.m. and 7:30 p.m. Saturdays; 4 p.m. Sundays
Where: Andrew Johnson Theater at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center (TPAC), 505 Deaderick St.
Cost: $28.50-$32.50
Info: 615-255-2787; www.tnrep.org; www.tpac.org; or www.ticketmaster.com
This play contains adult language.