It was with no small amount of trepidation that I sat down to Wednesday night’s performance of Mrs. Dexter and her Daily at the National Arts Centre
The play’s premise is fairly simple. Mrs. Dexter, a rich Torontonian weaving her way boozily through a nasty divorce, has taken to spending her last days at home in her nightie whilst her daily, her housekeeper, prepares the house for a horde of potential buyers.
In the first act, we hear an hour-long monologue from Peggy Randall, the daily, as she bustles around the kitchen. The second act follows a similar structure, as Mrs. Dexter moons about in the kitchen after Peggy has gone home.
Such a simple structure has the potential to be tedious. But miraculously, Mrs. Dexter is anything but. True, there were times when I longed for the introduction of another character, but those involved in the production are among the best Canadian theatre has to offer.
Mrs. Dexter was written by famed Canadian playwright Joanna McClelland Glass. Glass’ plays have a tendency to high-realism, and Mrs. Dexter is no different. It captures perfectly the desperation of two Canadian women, each living in a sort of trap. Peggy, poor and uneducated, decides to move back in with the man who fathered her children and proceeded to break her heart, and Mrs. Dexter suddenly finds herself cast out of her life of luxury and the victim of looks of pity from her high-society friends.
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Mrs. Dexter and her Daily
Directed by Marti Maraden |
Two of Canada’s pre-eminent theatre actresses are the women responsible for breathing life into Glass’ characters. Nicola Cavendish plays Peggy with a thick Nova Scotian accent and plenty of good humour – she is loud, funny and brash. She has the difficult task of telling us what’s going on in the Dexter household and hinting at her own life, which Mrs. Dexter fleshes out in the second act. At times though, Cavendish’s exaggerated accent and senior shuffle are reminiscent of a This Hour Has 22-Minutes sketch. But when she drops her hardened exterior and wall of humour whilst speaking of her "simple" son Stanley, she is perfect.
By the time Mrs. Edith Dexter appears onstage, we know what’s happened to her, so Fiona Reid is free to explore the depths of her character without the cumbersome task of establishing context. She is a thin, wispy woman swallowed by her white nightgown, educated and belligerent with Canadian Club whisky . She is alternately entertaining and heartbreaking, using decadent language to express her anguish and having long conversations with her demons, none of whom the audience ever sees. Both women dominate the stage, commanding it with an ease that comes only with years of experience.
Attention must be paid as well to Marti Maraden, whose energetic direction keeps the two characters from getting stale. They are both constantly moving, interacting with the play’s one set as though they really have lived there for decades.
While Mrs. Dexter is littered with humour – often the sort that your grandmother would laugh hardest at – this is not a show meant to make you feel good. Ultimately, there is no quick fix for these women, strong as they are. Like life, there is no clear resolution of their trials. It’s as though their lives continue on after the curtain closes, leaving the audience with a bittersweet feeling.
Mrs. Dexter and her Daily runs at the NAC until March 6.
With files from Chris Cooper.