The Contrast

Metropolitan Playhouse, whose principal mission is to unearth forgotten plays of America's theatrical heritage, has this time reached back to the beginning. "The Contrast" by Royall Tyler is the first American play ever performed in public by a company of professional actors. Produced by the American Company at New York City's John Street Theatre in April 1787, it has as its main theme the contrast between a vigorous, fresh-paint America and a tired, corrupt Europe. It is a theme, for better or worse, that reverberates into the 21st century.

Although owing much of its manner to Sheridan's 1777 "The School for Scandal," the play's matter is completely original as it asks: How does a fledgling nation define itself? The satire is not aimed solely at the posturing of Europe; there are also sly shots at the reigning American Puritanism. The success of "The Contrast" brought about a small revolution in helping to remove the stigma against theater in the infant democracy, with plays by American authors following in rapid succession.

The basic plot is a romantic one. Mr. Van Rough (George C. Hosmer) wishes his daughter, Maria (Maria Silverman), to marry the rich, effete Billy Dimple (Bryan Close), although we see Dimple openly flirting with Letitia (Tovah Suttle) and Charlotte Manly (Amanda Jones). Charlotte's brother, the earnest Colonel Henry Manly (Rob Skolits), who has done noble service in the Revolution, is resolutely single until he sights Maria. The subplot concerns Henry's rube of a servant, Jonathan (Brad Fraizer), who is goaded by Dimple's arrogant servant Jessamy (Matt Renskers) into courting Jenny, the maid (Ali Crosier). In the character of Jonathan, Tyler originates what will become a theatrical staple: the classic stage Yankee, a hick who may be unlearned but is also spirited and independent.

This subplot, with its satire of contemporary manners and references, was once the play's highlight, but it's now obscured by time and proves difficult to stage. Meanwhile, the mechanics of the romantic comedy are put on hold; it's not until the final scene that the two themes are interwoven. Wit seems to be the province of the female characters, as in Charlotte's "I have a rage of simile upon me!" It's Van Rough who proclaims a continuing American creed: "It's money that makes the mare go!"

Director Alex Roe has given the play a modern, bare-boards staging devoid of set, costumes, and props. This makes it entirely dependent on Tyler's words and the audience's imagination, putting a strain on both. The women best capture the play's difficult style, especially Jones' scheming, flirtatious Charlotte, though Skolits' Henry has a pleasing earnestness.

Although on stage are male and female mannequins in full period costumes to assist our imaginations, the actors wear designer Sidney Fortner's unfortunate, unflattering costumes: tank tops in various colors, suggesting only that appearing in America's oldest play is a regular workout.

While the results at best are mixed, anyone with an interest in theatrical history should not miss this genuine rarity.


Presented by and at Metropolitan Playhouse, 220 East Fourth St., NYC. Oct.9–Nov.1. Thu.–Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m. (212) 352-3101, (866) 811-4111, www.theatermania.com, or www.metroplitanplayhouse.org.