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In the Next Room' is an electrifying performance set in an 1880s household

Electricity. The minute you walk in for the SpeakEasy Stage Company's production of Sarah Ruhl's "In the Next Room (or the vibrator play)," you can't help but notice the buzz both on and off stage. The electrical currents are palpable in the room, but fortunately for the audience members, the play lives up to the excited hum felt before the show. Shocks, sparks and bolts of all types define this scintillating and ultimately euphoric performance.

Ruhl's play is set in the late 1880s and derives its plot from the late 19th century medical practice of using vibrators to treat cases of hysteria by inducing "paroxysms" in the patient. The nervous illness was commonly associated with women, but in some cases, as we see in Ruhl's play, men also sought treatment for cases of anxiety. The play focuses on the household of Dr. Givings (Derry Woodhouse), in which we witness awakenings of many kinds as the doctor's family, patients and staff come to terms with the advent of electricity in all its forms.

Like the characters' initial reactions to the substitution of electrical lighting for the more romantic candlelight, the play takes a while to warm up. Givings's wife, Catherine (Anne Gottlieb), at first comes off as a merely immature, insipid character, and the first patient, Sabrina Daldry (Marianna Bassham), starts out as a pallid and thin−voiced creature as a result of her nervous condition.

As we soon see, however, it is not the fault of the actresses, who, incidentally, reveal themselves as excellent in their roles during the course of the play, but the fault of the society that has raised them as sheltered and repressed individuals. Woodhouse's rendition of the confused, conservative doctor is especially convincing and, as the scene develops, we see that he is not so much a proponent of the system as a victim himself.

The play contains many sexual charges, clever reversals and humorous comments that add to an already captivating topic. For instance, despite Catherine's protestations that electricity bores her, she acknowledges its power and clearly finds it just as fascinating as her scientifically−minded husband does. She articulates the sparks of sexual tension by saying, "On, off, on, off," while playing with the switch of a lamp.

The charismatic and entertaining Leo (Craig Wesley Divino) encourages Catherine to see the artistic beauty of electric light and, in doing so, succeeds in lighting up the stage with his humor and charm. The wet nurse Elizabeth (Lindsey McWhorter) provides a different sort of ray of hope, teaching Catherine what it is to be a mother and what it means to love a child. Both Divino and McWhorter are valuable assets on the stage, and the cast comes off as very well balanced and intelligent as a whole.

Throughout the play, Ruhl once again proves her strength as a playwright through her well−developed characters and dialogue — clearly, this play is justified as both a 2010 Pulitzer Prize finalist and a 2010 Tony Nominee for Best Play.

What the "Next Room" is exactly, and what is happening in it, become increasingly ambiguous as the characters become more entangled in their interactions and confessions. The set is divided between the doctor's Operating Theater and the wife's living room, where she continuously runs into the patients despite her husband's urgings for her to avoid meeting his "sick" visitors. The slight angle of the set gives it a surreal, "Alice in Wonderland" feel that, despite the otherwise historically fixed setting, gives the play an artistic and ambiguous touch.

The actors make good use of the space, and at first, it is seemingly obvious that the doctor's theater is the mysterious "Next Room" to which his wife is denied access. In a hilarious fit of mad, overwhelming curiosity, Catherine and Mrs. Daldry break into the operating theater while Dr. Givings is out. From then on, which of the two rooms is in fact the proverbial "Next Room" is completely reversed. While the women have found a common bond through a self−discovery that is both touching and uproariously funny, Dr. Givings remains oblivious.

In the final climax between Dr. Givings and his wife, the barrier between the two rooms falls and the "Next Room" becomes one that contains the audience. As the house lights turn back on, the room is once again abuzz. This is not a performance that will leave you feeling static.