Theatre in Review: Time of My Life (Brits Off Broadway/59E59)In Time of My Life, we are invited to dine with a prize collection of Alan Ayckbourn characters as they muddle their way toward humiliation, bankruptcy, and death -- not to mention the odd triumph. The third offering in the Ayckbourn Ensemble, presented by the Stephen Joseph Theatre of Scarborough, UK, it dates from 1992 and is not, I think, considered one of his top-shelf works. Nevertheless, in this production it looks like prime Ayckbourn, deftly blending laughter and sadness in a narrative that features a cunning formal device. The play begins with a birthday party that turns out to be more fateful than anyone can imagine. The honoree is Laura Stratton, a selfish, possessive matriarch who doesn't hesitate to play favorites among her children. They include Glyn, the unloved son, who is struggling to patch up his marriage to the relentlessly self-effacing Stephanie, and Adam, the apple of Laura's eye -- although, at the moment, he is in the doghouse, having shown up with his new girlfriend, Maureen. No woman is good enough for Adam as far as Laura is concerned, but Maureen -- a hairdresser who, as the play begins, is desperately bolting to the bathroom after too many glasses of wine -- provides particular offense. Hosting the party is Gerry, Laura's husband, who, as the brandies keep coming, begins to admit that the family's construction business just might be on the rocks. We soon learn that, on the way home from the restaurant, Gerry will drive the car off the road, killing himself and injuring Laura. From this moment on, the play unspools in two directions: At a table located downstage right, the action moves forward, following Glyn's hapless attempts at saving the business, winning Laura's approval, and holding his marriage together -- even when he moves in with another woman. Downstage left, the narrative rewinds, revealing Adam's failed attempt at launching an arts magazine and exposing the many misunderstandings that undergird his affair with Maureen. In the play's most uproarious scene, Adam and Maureen meet in a state of total confusion: She thinks he is her blind date; he thinks he is interviewing her for an office position. Before the truth comes out, she becomes convinced that he wants to prostitute her in the most sordid of circumstances. "There are four of us, and we all need looking after," he notes. "Though hopefully not all at once." Thus the action ping-pongs between Gerry and Laura, getting quietly plastered and baring any number of ugly truths, while Glyn's marriage and career both come undone and Adam -- a world-class dilettante -- tries and fails to get out from under his mother's thumb. As is usually the case, Ayckbourn puts us in the God position, making us privy to the lies and illusions to which his characters are prey. For example, Gerry, by way of encouraging Glyn and Stephanie to stay together, insists that Laura "wanted grandchildren more than she wanted children." Glyn takes his father at his word -- but we hear Laura admit that she can't stand anyone under the age of 15. Similarly, Laura characterizes Maureen as a gold digger looking for the main chance; it's easy to dismiss this as one of her typically castrating comments until we see the mercenary light in Maureen's eyes when she realizes that Adam is one of "those" Strattons. Yet even as everyone seems to be headed down the same deterministic road to ruin, the author has plenty of surprises in store for many of them -- especially Maureen and Stephanie, who both turn out to be more resilient than anyone expects. As in real life, the Ayckbourn universe is governed by mysterious laws, meting out tragedies and triumphs in thoroughly arbitrary fashion. Guessing everyone's fates is half of the fun. Under Ayckbourn's direction, a solid cast fills out this dysfunctional crew with remarkable agility. Rachel Caffrey, outfitted in a series of alarmingly frilly dresses and elaborate bouffants, neatly captures Maureen's blonde ambition, especially her mounting rage at her outsider status among the Strattons. Russell Dixon's Gerry is at his best when raised to high moral dudgeon by the stunning news of his wife's infidelity, snarling at the injustice of it all. Sarah Parks' Laura is a most imposing queen of withheld affections, but we also get a glimpse of the desolate woman inside. Emily Pithon is touching as mousy Stephanie, who undergoes a shocking transformation when pushed too far. James Powell's Adam is a perfectly well-mannered loser, doomed forever to tend his mother's burgeoning collection of dogs. Richard Stacey's Glyn is perfectly clueless, a would-be alpha male whose fruitless pursuit of his parents' love ruins his life. The one weakish link is Ben Porter, cast as all of the waiters in the Greek restaurant where the characters routinely congregate; the actor employs a broad range of oddball accents and mannerisms, but these only pay off about half the time. A less vaudevillian approach would be more in keeping with the play's overall tone. Except for Jan Bee Brown's costumes -- which cover a variety of styles and reach their comic apex with Maureen's complete collection of fashion crimes -- this is the sparest of the three productions at 59E59, with a simple arrangement of three tables (also designed by Brown) lit in understated fashion by Tigger Johnson. But that leaves the focus where it belongs, on the characters. Time of My Life is a fine display of Ayckbourn's most distinctive skills -- his knack for blending broad hilarity and stark drama; his merciless, yet not unsympathetic, eye for his characters' foibles; and his uncanny ability to bend a conventional narrative to suit his needs. If you're an Ayckbourn fan, this one is unmissable; if you're not familiar with his work, this is an excellent place to start.--David Barbour 
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