An Inspector Calls Don't expect fireworks. But for the patient, a highly satisfactory evening can be passed watching J.B. Priestley's drawing room drama An Inspector Calls, here set in a formal dining room. The plot is a series of revelations revolving around the closely knit, though quarrelsome, Birling family. The plot is thin to the point of being nonexistent, but things pick up, after a slow beginning filled with exposition, when a police inspector arrives to ask questions regarding a young woman who had committed suicide nearby. The good news is that the director, Jeannette Clift George, has created a smoothly functioning ensemble of actors, with a real sense of family, a feeling that these people live with and know each other all too well. I wish Lee Walker were a bit more authoritative as Arthur Birling, patriarch and captain of industry, but he is effective, and I especially admired Sarah Cooksey as the matriarch and Abby Bergstrom as the Birling daughter, whose blunt, dry observations generate appropriate laughs in Act Two. Jason Hatcher rounds out the family as the errant son, in a largely thankless role, since he has little to do in Act One except to drink too much port, look sullen and interrupt. Soon to join the family, by wedding the daughter, and displaying the smugness and hypocrisy of the English moneyed class, is Gerald Croft, played by Chip Simmons. The outsider is Inspector Goole, and Marty Blair makes his taciturn questioning and shift of tone credible. We can see why the Birling family would tell him, well, far too much. The audience anticipates some of the more predictable events, but the ending brings a few twists and surprises that pay off well. There is a curious out-of-character speech Inspector Goole is compelled to deliver before he exits, in which a socially conscious message is awkwardly shoehorned in — no one will ever accuse Priestley of subtlety. Through April 3, A.D. Players Theater, 2710 W. Alabama, 713-526-2721. — JT
Shards of Love Shards of Love, eight short plays by Paulette MacDougal, illustrates how a playwright with imagination and heart, a talented cast and a dedicated theater can remind us that humor, love and understanding are not in short supply, at least in mature relationships. Seldom have the benefits of age been better illustrated than in these charming, insightful vignettes, in their Houston premiere at Theatre Suburbia. Each features a couple with a problem, with the program moving in chronological order from characters in their twenties to their nineties. The "20's" shows us a stridently mismatched bride and groom in a private talk just before the vows are to be taken. There are several amusing surprises, though the bride shouting her lines is an irritant. The "30's" involves a vegetarian's conflict with hunting, and the "40's" introduces us to a couple married for 15 years, who have found both the perfect house and a major gap in their ability to communicate. The "50's" features a body-conscious woman and her patient husband, played by John Wright with an engaging, wry wistfulness. The evening gets into high gear in the "60's," with Susan O'Connor as an endearing, spunky blond widow getting ready to enjoy some traveling; she's visited by the ghost of her solicitous husband, played by Michael Steinbach with charm and style. We see here a love that can survive the grave, yet without a trace of sentimentality. The "70's" charts a loving, longtime couple with a shared secret. The "80's" wins our hearts, with Jack Dunlop giving an admirable performance as a persistent swain, despite his age, in pursuit of a new acquaintance, portrayed with sensitivity and grace by Marylynn Coryell. And the "90's" gives us a couple who want to prove to a son that they can take care of themselves outside a nursing home. Kenn Cullinane is the husband, Bobbie Giachini the wife, and their talented performances are authentic and arresting. Their movements were so well-staged that credit must be shared with the director of this portion of the evening, Lee Raymond, who also directed the highly effective "60's" play. Kudos as well to Rebecca Pipas Seabrook, who directed the "50's" and "80's" plays, bringing the playwright's vision to vibrant life. Both are here making their directorial debut, which bodes well for Houston theater. Do yourself a favor and go see Shards of Love — you will love it. Through March 26. 4106 Way Out West Dr., 713-682-3525. — JT