
Greg (Matthew Broderick) and Sylvia (Annaleigh Ashford) seek solace in Central Park in Broadway debut of A. R. Gurney play (photo by Joan Marcus)
Cort Theatre
138 West 48th St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through January 24, $32 – $147
sylviabroadway.com
Some men, when they reach their midlife crisis, get a fancy car, while others have a fling with a younger woman. In A. R. Gurney’s light and fluffy Sylvia, Greg (Matthew Broderick) decides on something a little different: He dedicates his life to a stray dog he finds in Central Park. The only problem is, Greg’s wife, Kate (Julie White), wants nothing to do with the pooch, which is named Sylvia (and played by the very human and extremely adorable Annaleigh Ashford). The empty nesters have two kids in college and have moved into the city from the suburbs, but while Greg grows increasingly frustrated with his job, Kate is finally flourishing as an English teacher with a predilection for Shakespeare after putting her career on hold to raise the children. Greg has been skipping out on his job, angry at his boss who has promoted him to trading currencies. “I told him to put me in something real,” Greg tells Kate, who replies, “Real? What’s real?” “Sylvia’s real, aren’t you, Sylvia?” Greg says. “I sure try to be,” Sylvia eagerly responds, leaping into Greg’s arms. Later, Kate admonishes, “I’ll tell you what’s real, Greg. The mortgage on this apartment is real. The kids’ tuitions are very, very real.” The conceit in the play — and it doesn’t always work smoothly, becoming particularly confusing when other characters, all played with panache by Robert Sella, show up — is that Sylvia can talk. She tells Greg how much she loves him, asks if she can jump on the couch or go out for a walk, and verbally expresses the familiar needs and habits of a dog. The communication is presented in clever ways: Her barks when there’s someone at the door or when the phone rings come out as “Hey! Hey! Hey!” instead of “Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!” (In an inspired moment the night we saw it, a cell phone went off during the show, and Ashford, sitting on a bench with Broderick, looked into the crowd and let out an improvised “Hey! Hey! Hey!” that had the audience, and Broderick, in stitches.) But the closer Greg and Sylvia grow, the more concerned Kate becomes. “I’m worried, Greg. I’m worried about your job, I’m worried about you, I’m worried about us,” she says. “I’m worried about Sylvia at the moment,” he responds. It makes for a rather different kind of love triangle.
Greg soon meets Tom (Sella), a fellow dog walker who warns Greg of the dangers of anthropomorphizing Sylvia. “Always remember that your dog is simply a dog. Always keep reminding yourself of that fact,” Tom tells him. “Not a person. Just a dog. Force yourself to think it.” But Greg is well aware of what he’s doing, insisting he knows the difference between human and animal. “Maybe it’s just the anxieties of middle age. Or the sense of disillusionment which goes with late twentieth-century capitalism,” he says to Sylvia, who answers, “I wish I could contribute something here, but I just plain can’t.” Is Sylvia a replacement for something missing in Greg’s life? Is she a stand-in for a would-be lover, or another child? Or is she really just a dog to him, an energetic young canine who worships the ground he walks on and considers him a god? That’s the heart of what Gurney is getting at, and he keeps us wondering till the very end.

Greg (Matthew Broderick) and his new dog (Annaleigh Ashford) bond in city apartment in SYLVIA (photo by Joan Marcus)
The main set, by David Rockwell (On the 20th Century, Hairspray), is a beautiful green section of Central Park, with the neighborhood skyline behind it. Greg and Kate’s apartment descends from above and glides in from the sides. Ann Roth (The Nance, The Book of Mormon) has a ball with Sylvia’s costumes, while Greg Pliska adds a trite, sitcom-like score. Tony-winning director Daniel Sullivan (Lost Lake, Orphans) keeps it all moving at a dog’s pace, from fast and furious, as when Sylvia runs down the aisles to commune with Tom’s dog, Bowser, to slow and easy, as when Greg seeks peace and comfort from her. Gurney (The Dining Room, The Cocktail Hour) has experienced a resurgence of late, with a three-play residency at the Signature Theatre (including the Drama Desk-winning revival of The Wayside Motor Inn) and the Broadway revival of Love Letters, but the Broadway bow (wow) of Sylvia might just be the pick of the litter; it’s certainly the most fun. Tony winners White (The Little Dog Laughed, Airline Highway) and Broderick (The Producers, It’s Only a Play) work well off each other as the middle-aged married couple, both filled with nervousness about the next stage of their life together, although White doesn’t quite get to strut her stuff (and the Shakespeare quotes told directly to the audience are completely unnecessary), while Broderick’s stiff-shouldered monotone remains steady throughout. Drama Desk winner Sella (Stuff Happens) excels as the aforementioned Tom, a gender-fluid therapist, and a friend of Kate’s from Vassar, but Tony winner Ashford (You Can’t Take It with You, Kinky Boots) is clearly Best in Show in a role originated off Broadway in 1995 by Broderick’s then soon-to-be wife, Sarah Jessica Parker (with Charles Kimbrough as Greg and Blythe Danner as Kate). Every so often Gurney tries to get deep, but it’s the lighthearted moments that make Sylvia a warm and cuddly charmer, a tasty kibble treat.