Deborah Shaw and David Agro in Love Letters
Melissa Gardner and Andrew Makepeace Ladd III are soulmates. They never marry over the course of their almost 50 year acquaintance, not each other anyway; though they do have a torrid affair later in life. zippysaid productions’ understated staging at Red Sandcastle Theatre was my first experience of A.R. Gurney’s Love Letters, an epistolary play that tracks Melissa and Andrew from their first meeting as children in the 1930s straight through to middle age in the 1980s.
Deborah Shaw and David Agro (who also directs) have cozied up to the material, honouring the subtleties of emotion in their correspondence, conveying the ebb and flow of their dynamic, without indulging in overt theatrics. They don’t even look at each other, they just read their letters for us, for each other, for themselves. Pauses are particularly weighty here as they represent a deliberate break in communication, resulting from any number of circumstances—illness, hurt feelings, punishment.
Andrew is the more mannered of the two—a proper, respectable student and son, eventually becoming a lawyer and running for office. He’s the traditionalist, a passionate letter writer, much to Melissa’s chagrin; though it says a lot about her love for him that, despite it being a chore, she follows suit for half a century. She’s something of a rebel—brash, a little reckless, an artistic woman who seems always on the verge of losing her grip, succumbing eventually to alcohol and depression.
The text is exquisitely constructed, pulling us through their lives gracefully, never jumping, dragging or feeling at all contrived. Many telling details are left unspoken; we pick up on contextual clues if we’re suitably invested and paying attention. Birthday parties, dances, boarding schools, the Navy, trips to Europe—they remain steadfast friends as their separate lives drag them apart, and push them together. We can never know if a marriage would have lasted between them, though there is a certain intriguing intentionality in how their actual spouses seem to exist only on the periphery of their intense friendship.
While conveying the fatigue of later years, Shaw retains Melissa’s girlish persona throughout. She’s spontaneous, mischievous, provoking and petulant—always charismatic, until life pushes her over a line. By contrast, Agro seems slightly detached in his gentility. He’s warm, subtly guarded, and only properly expresses the depth of his feeling when it is too late.
The design elements are sparing, but purposeful. Each is seated at a small desk which seems to be an extension of their personae. His is an elegant, varnished wood; she’s got a messy child’s desk, splotched with colourful paint. His tailored grey suit, her sensual silk and tacky jewellery—these tell their own story about adherence to social convention and the vivacious flaunting of it. The post cards, calendars and assorted memorabilia suspended as a stylized backdrop makes sense, but isn’t particularly unnecessary.
Shaw and Agro, authentic and endearing, are more than enough.
Love Letters
running February 11 to 16, 2025
Red Sandcastle Theatre (922 Queen Street East)
running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes (including intermission)
Deborah Shaw and David Agro in Love Letters