by Sierra Pasquale
Schenectady Civic Players’ production of In the Next Room (or the Vibrator Play) approaches Sarah Ruhl’s quietly subversive comedy with clear affection for the text and a strong commitment to its period sensibilities. Set in the late nineteenth century at the dawn of modern gynecology, the play examines the uneasy intersection of science, sexuality, and emotional repression, using clinical detachment as both a comic device and a critique of Victorian norms. Civic Players’ interpretation is thoughtful and earnest, offering moments of insight and charm, though it rarely pushes far enough to fully capture the play’s deeper tensions or theatrical boldness.
At its core, In the Next Room is a play about distance. Distance between men and women, between knowledge and feeling, and between what is spoken aloud and what remains unsaid. Civic Players clearly understands this thematic framework, and much of the production emphasizes restraint: emotional, physical, and stylistic. This choice is not without merit. Ruhl’s writing depends heavily on understatement, and the ensemble demonstrates a collective discipline in honoring the social codes that govern the characters’ behavior. However, this restraint occasionally becomes a limiting factor, resulting in a production that feels cautious rather than quietly daring.
The performances across the board are sincere and grounded, with actors committed to maintaining the decorum and formal rhythms of the period. Scenes centered on medical “treatments” lean into gentle humor rather than farce, which suits the company’s overall tone but also softens the inherent absurdity of the premise. While the comedy lands intermittently, it rarely surprises, and moments that might benefit from sharper contrast or escalation often remain at the same emotional temperature. As a result, the production sometimes feels as though it is moving carefully from scene to scene without allowing tension to fully accumulate.
Where the production finds its greatest strength is in its attention to interpersonal dynamics, particularly in moments of quiet realization or emotional hesitation. Several scenes effectively highlight the loneliness experienced by characters who are surrounded by others yet unable to articulate their needs. These moments hint at the play’s deeper emotional stakes and suggest what the production might achieve if it leaned more decisively into vulnerability. Still, such moments tend to pass quickly, giving way to a steady, even pacing that prioritizes clarity over momentum.
Pacing, in fact, is one of the production’s more persistent challenges. Ruhl’s dialogue relies on a precise musicality, with pauses and repetitions that build meaning through accumulation. That rhythm is sometimes flattened in this production, making scenes feel longer than they need to be and blunting the impact of key exchanges.
The visual design supports the narrative without drawing attention to itself. The set (Peter Kantor) cleanly delineates public and private spaces, reinforcing the symbolic divide suggested by the title. This clarity is effective, though the design rarely ventures beyond functionality. Costumes (Beth Ruman) are appropriate to the era (and beautiful!) and help establish social hierarchy and decorum, but they do little to deepen character interpretation or underscore thematic contrasts.
Directionally (David E. Rook), the production appears focused on accessibility and coherence. The story is easy to follow, and the relationships are clearly defined, which will likely appeal to audiences unfamiliar with Ruhl’s work. Yet this clarity sometimes comes at the expense of risk. In the Next Room thrives on its strangeness; the tension between scientific authority and emotional ignorance, the discomfort of intimacy framed as treatment, and the quiet rebellion embedded in personal awakening. This staging gestures toward these ideas but rarely lingers long enough for them to feel destabilizing.
This cautious approach is most noticeable in the play’s emotional turning points. Moments that should feel revelatory instead register as polite realizations, and conflicts resolve with a sense of inevitability rather than discovery. While the production invites reflection, it stops short of fully challenging the audience or unsettling their expectations. The result is a version of In the Next Room that is intellectually engaging but emotionally reserved.
Ultimately, In the Next Room (or the Vibrator Play) is a respectable and competently executed production that demonstrates care for its material and respect for its themes. It offers a clear, accessible entry point into Ruhl’s world, particularly for audiences drawn to character-driven storytelling and period drama. Those hoping for the play’s sharper edges or more daring emotional undercurrents, however, may find themselves wishing the production had trusted the text and its performers enough to lean further into discomfort and discovery. While the evening is pleasant and thoughtfully staged, it concludes without leaving a lasting theatrical imprint, settling instead into quiet consideration rather than lingering resonance.
Schenectady Civic Players In the Next Room (or the Vibrator Play) Directed by David E. Rook, Produced by John Sutton, Stage Managed by Beth Swallow, Assistant Stage Managed by Abigail Decker, Set Design by Peter Kantor, Lightning Design by Stephen Wilson, Sound by Brian Starnes, Costume design by Beth Ruman, Hair by John Fowler. Evan Jones as Dr. Givings, Amy Hausknecht as Mrs. Givings, Paul Stein as Mr. Daldry, Meaghan Rogers as Mrs. Daldry, Sarah Gesior as Annie, Tobias Martin as Leo, Zilpa Oduor as Elizabeth
Performance dates are Friday–Sunday (January 30–February 1) and Wednesday–Sunday (February 4–8). Friday and Saturday curtains are at 8:00 PM, Wednesday and Thursday at 7:30 PM, and Sunday matinees at 2:30 PM. All tickets are $25. Tickets are available online through the SCP website, by phone, or at the door for any performance. Call 518-382-2081 or visit civicplayers.org for more information.