Written by William Nicholson
Directed by Mark Kilmurry
Ensemble Theatre
Until 24th December

The sadness of The Retreat from Moscow is not that after thirty-three years of marriage. Edward (Norman Coburn) is bowed and cowed under Alice's (Sandy Gore) carping, but that the woman's words have been used throughout the marriage to make the man's life a misery.

No matter what he does or does not do, what he says or does not say, what he agrees with or disagrees with, he can never ever get it right. Alice's raison d'etre is to generate a reaction — any reaction. Edward, on the other hand, is so downtrodden he follows the line of least resistance.

Why are these two together? Because, as is revealed in a heart-breaking speech, Edward got on the wrong train after his father died.

Edward wants a quiet life. He is quite content to come home, read history for pleasure, and do the crossword for his mental stimulation. Alice craves the loftiness of intellectual exchange. Poetry is her obsession and she has a line, or a stanza, for any situation. Both of them are prisoners in this marriage. Caught in the crossfire is their son, Jamie (Ben Ager). A mismatched marriage is difficult but nowhere near as difficult as the situation of the progeny.

Despite Alice's matrimonial unhappiness, she is shocked and devastated when Edward leaves her for another woman. At this stage in the drama, The Retreat from Moscow becomes Alice's play as she runs the full emotional gamut of a woman scorned.

The pertinence of the title is William Nicholson's paralleling the withdrawal from the marriage and Napoleon's troops' retreat from Moscow, Edward's history topic.

For a domestic drama, The Retreat from Moscow moves rapidly. Mark Kilmurry's direction is seamless as one scene flows into another with metronomic accuracy. All three characters stay on stage throughout the play. The use of lighting and posture signals the relevant action.

Norman Coburn, Sandy Gore, and Ben Ager are outstanding. The rhythm of Sandy Gore's delivery brings out some humour in this mirthless situation. In fact, the whole production, from the writing to the lighting, is so naturalistic it feels voyeuristic to be in the audience.