Alan Ayckbourn must be as fond of puzzles as Anthony Shaffer was reputed to have been. Having demonstrated his expertise at writing comedies that leap through time, he now presents us with two plays that leap through space. The plot of House and of Garden concerns itself with crises affecting participants in a spring fair on the country estate of a British bigwig. House shows us the events unfolding indoors, and Garden, those occurring outdoors at the same time. This requires actors to scamper between the new Goodman Theater's two adjoining auditoriums, and the respective audiences to guess at what has transpired "offstage." And just to challenge us further, one of the characters speaks only French. (Don't worry -- most of the people to whom she speaks it don't understand a word, either.)
The critical question is whether the plays are more than just their gimmick. Well, we have three misguided husbands -- a philandering blowhard, a milquetoast stooge, and a hypercritical boor. Three wives -- one stony, one volatile and one weary. Three precocious youngsters -- a vain teenage girl, a lovesick teenage boy and a punked-out, post-adolescent nymphet. We also have a film star who can't control her addictions, a literary star who has learned to control his, a malapropistic housekeeper, and a surly gardener. Before we are done, three families have been thrown into turmoil, one has been united and two lovers reconciled. One character has been punched in the nose, another seduced with a sort of Morris a-go-go dance, and several have gotten wet and muddy.
Though it's apparent that Garden was structured to conform to House, rather than vice-versa, both plays set up plausible expositions leading to satisfactory denouements, as befits a master craftsman like Ayckbourn. Playhouses lacking the architecture for simultaneous staging could run them quite adequately in conventional repertory. Meanwhile, the Goodman does a bang-up job under the direction of Robert Falls, who has assembled an all-star cast that sprints through its paces with athletic glee. Twin playing spaces are a taller order than the swimming pool demanded by the 1999 season's Metamorphoses, but dramaplexes around the country would do well to negotiate a tour for this outstanding production.
