Deuce
Deuce“I am not invisible. Look at me!” asserts an elderly woman, describing her experiences in everyday life. Even though she is old, she is not invisible and she wants us to know that.It is a forceful, but unnecessary plea made by Leona, a former tennis pro played by Angela Lansbury in Deuce, the latest work by Terrence McNally currently playing at the Music Box Theatre. Throughout this slow-moving, mediocre production, it is difficult to look anywhere else other than at the two stars – both elderly women, both magnetic, compelling forces onstage.Deuce tells the story of two former tennis stars, Midge Barker and Leona Mullen, who were an unbeatable team in their glory days. Now they have aged - gracefully, of course - and are the honored guests of a high-profile tennis tournament. The entire show takes place while they sit in the stands, watching the game and reminiscing about their past. Commentary is provided by two outside parties – an adoring fan (played by Michael Mulheren) and two newscasters (Brian Haley and Joanna P. Adler).Midge and Leona have an unresolved past, which is darkly hinted at throughout their conversation, and they carefully avoid it, instead discussing the indignities of the modern game, where athleticism is hidden behind endorsements and advertisements and actual skill is confused with technological advancements. For starters, they are befuddled by the endorsements of athletes, a practice that never took place during their glory days.“What has Viagra got to do with tennis?” Leona asks at one point about a player’s latest deal. “I should think it would interfere with his game!”Nostalgia is the theme of the night, and it is laden on with a heavy hand, thanks to the bulky, miscalculated script by McNalley. Every aspect of the show – longing for the past, struggling to accept the present, aging and death, talent vs. star power – is exhibited tediously and repeatedly.” The narcissistic sportscasters reference their own careers when they should be discussing others and the only research they do for their show is to Google the stars during commercial breaks. The fan carries around an autograph book that was his father’s before his and is delighted at their surprise when they see it.It is the conversations between Midge and Leona that carry the show, and that is due to the actresses having them. As the duo, Seldes and Lansbury display exquisite skill and control, giving these women more depth than seems possible and more sympathy than seems human. Leeona, the girl who made good, is the more adventurous one, wishing she had binoculars when watching a streaker at the game, while Midge, a Park Avenue debutante, primly shields her eyes.The personal connection that suffered during their professional one is brought to light here, and they reveal that they actually do like and care about each other. They seem the happiest when revisiting their past victories and laughing about their antics on the road; Seldes delivering Midge’s lines with a carefully clipped refinement, her legs crossed primly at the ankles, while still injecting warmth and humor into what could have been a cardboard cutout of a character. Lansbury slumps in her chair and swears frequently, displaying the restlessness that made her character both a star tennis player and an restless, impatient woman. She still dwells on the one important game the two lost, which she has blamed herself for through the thiry-something years that have passed since then.Their dialogue is clumsy at times and careless at others, and all-around overbearing, which McNally not only exhibiting metaphor after metaphor, but explaining it along the way. There are moments when one woman is frozen and the other comments on her character, and their relationship, just in case we didn’t get it the first – or second – time it was mentioned in the script.It is a shame that two actresses of this caliber are in as clunky and wooden a piece as this. If they can do this with these characters, imagine what could be done with someone more challenging? Hopefully we can find out soon, for unlike these characters, these women have much more to offer.