H. G. Wells’s “The Croquet Player” Plays at East Village Theater

There is something inherently alluring about the unpredictability of a show at Theater for the New City. Bold, gritty, and daring theater sets it apart from the streamlined “safe” choices dominating commercial theater. Mystery, splendor, and illusion await you in H. G. Wells’s The Croquet Player, now playing at Theater for the New City.

As you enter the theater, a soft brush against your skin briefly catches your attention, before you realize it is the resident feline of Theater for the New City, who roams the halls with quiet authority and a certain regal indifference. Making your way to your seat, you are met by the production’s set design, the Perona Springs Hotel croquet yard, set in Normandy, France.

A wrought iron garden table, 1940s-era elegance, croquet mallets, and stately columns evoke a setting that feels familiar to high society, but what unfolds is a mystery in itself. Kris Kouros adapts this little-known novella for the stage with a clear sensitivity to Wells’s tone. The adaptation captures the obscurity of the events that unfold, along with a steady command of the dialogue’s cadence and a precise use of vernacular that feels both specific and resonant. Even language shaped in another era carries a surprising immediacy for contemporary audiences.

Without a sense of purpose or direction, Georgie Frobisher (Daniel Yaiullo), a 33-year-old unmarried man who has never worked, remains dependent on his wealthy aunt, Miss Frobisher, and is clearly her favored companion. With a taste for fine menswear and refined habits, he addresses the audience in a manner that signals what is to come: a ghost story unlike any other. Georgie functions as an unlikely narrator, foreshadowing a narrative that blends surrealism and the occult with the very real anxieties of its historical moment, including the looming threat of Hitler’s invasions during World War II. Fact and fiction begin to blur as the production unfolds. The stage itself becomes active, as smoke fills the space in waves, diffusing through the lighting. In these moments, the question emerges, is this a dreamlike sequence, or has the imagination taken hold?

“If we do not obey the rules, what becomes of civilization?” Miss Frobisher, played by the formidable Christine Weiss, exclaims to Georgie as they play croquet and discuss logistics. This line alone foreshadows the events of the play that follow, what becomes of mankind once rules of civility are broken and great fascist tyrants get hold of society? From her grief of seeing growing seagrass on the croquet yard to debating on the very difficult task of how to spend more of her exorbitant amount of wealth, even in her Madame de Pompadour embellishments, she is a much welcomed comedic relief throughout. At one point, Georgie hits the croquet ball way past the audience, where Miss Frobisher unenthusiastically has to chase after it, disappearing off stage with her boisterous voice resonating through the seats as she sighs in discomfort. Seeing her struggle, even just a tad, is a welcomed delight.

Director Joe John Battista stages the actors in a way that no one particular character ever takes over entirely. There is a freedom he allows in letting actors have free rein over the entirety of the theater. Whether they appear from upstage, center stage, or downstage, we remain keen on wondering where actors will appear from next. Though the set never changes, a clever use of a projection screen and a silhouette screen helps to amplify intense moments in the play for dramatic effect. At one point, there is an eerie sight of a masked person appearing as death itself in between the foyer of the hotel hall that startles and never ceases to unsettle. The most powerful impact is the sound that blares above our heads when it comes to World War II sirens and announcements.

Interactions between Georgie and a French waiter (John Barilla) lighten the complexity of the themes of the play. In certain ways, the caricature of the French waiter, with his thick clichéd accent, overly apologetic demeanor, and fumbling back and forth, creates a hyper surrealism where, just when you think you have a grasp of this world, the looming events of active war taking place bring you right back to reality. Apart from excruciating yet comical bourgeois platitudes, a particularly comical moment is when the French waiter makes the ghastly mistake of serving milk versus cream, to which narrator Georgie doth protest. Georgie’s peculiar and highbrow requests make him the perfect specimen for being subjected to humility when the sword of Damocles dangles over his head in what is to come.

Georgie is abashedly smitten with the dashingly handsome hotel guest and good doctor Finchatten. Brian Vincent is the actor who plays Finchatten, and the manner in which he physically stands and gestures shows a reassuring kindness that conveys a humble yet regal gentleman. Finchatten regales Georgie with tales of the oppressive rural area of Cainmarsh, where a mind virus is set to plague the people. From killing significant others to bashing in one’s own beloved pet, madness runs rampant. A complete world away from the comfy luxuries of Perona Springs.

Very much relevant to today’s fears of catastrophic war, apart from shifts in attire and language, not much has changed. The Croquet Player remains eerily resonant in its portrayal of looming doom, masked by the comforts of everyday distraction. The anxieties that haunt us today, from recent pandemics to global conflict and societal unrest, mirror Wells’s allegorical and introspective vision. This production succeeds in its ambitious telling of a world where, beneath the surface of wealth and civility, everything remains fragile in the face of crisis.