Part of its problem lies both in the character of the ghostly Bridget and in Eliza Dean’s portrayal of her. Pinter turns Bridget loose onstage without much hint of her purpose. As a bearer of the playwright’s poetry, Bridget exhales the kind of ache for life that was so wistfully expressed by Kate and Anna in Old Times, Pinter’s three-character play in which a couple are visited by the wife’s long-estranged roommate. Bridget may also be there to deliver the haunted tone that the voluble Andy cannot. Dean’s presence, however, is light rather than ethereal, and her vocal phrasing doesn’t carry the weight it should.
At one point in time, Harold Pinter was a young playwright writing about old men — men who were at the end of their lives and looking back not in anger but with malice and bewilderment. Watching Moonlight, we’re not quite sure what conclusion Pinter has come to after his explorations in the theater. Perhaps it is, as Jake and Fred say, that death is the price of love. Or maybe it is as ambiguous as the illuminated horizon that forms this production’s backdrop — something that might be sunrise, or might be sunset.
The Big Sleepover: Siblings in limbo (Photo by David Elzer)