Cocktails with George and Martha by Philip Gefter

 

"Never again. It is like having an elephant sit on your chest for two hours."

    - My mom, remembering seeing the 1966 film Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? 

"It is still the truest rendering of love in marriage that I know. Call me a romantic."

    - From the preface, Cocktails with George and Martha

Ever since we learned about the custom of exchanging roses and books for San Jordi's Day on April 23rd (thanks, Helen Oyeyemi!), my partner and I have been dedicated observers. This year I received Cocktails with George and Martha: Movies, Marriage, and the Making of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? I don't think this had anything to do with how many martinis I drink, but it could be related. 

I love Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and could watch it just about any night. Like the author Philip Gefter, I find it a story about love in marriage, albeit through a scathing, harrowing perspective. From the beginning, Albee's dialogue crackles and Taylor is electric herself as the acerbic Martha. Burton transforms himself into the brilliant, embittered George and they ricochet off each other through the course of a drunken, vicious afterparty. George Segal and Sandy Dennis are perfect as the unwitting guests who fall prey to George and Martha's games. 

It was fascinating to learn about the behind-the-scenes of the movie. Gefter starts with a biography of playwright Edward Albee and describes the controversy that boiled around his play. Up until then, most marriages portrayed on tv were fairly conflict-free with delineated gender roles. Serious arguments, if there were any, would be conducted behind a closed door (off-screen). The dynamics between George and Martha, not to mention their antics, were condemned by some critics as obscene. That said, it was a sensation and touched on something in the zeitgeist.

Gefter links Martha's frustration ("She's discontent") with Betty Friedan's "problem that has no name" from her 1963 book The Feminine Mystique. Women were increasingly "discontent" with their lot and Albee unleashed onto the world a character who expressed all her frustration, resentment, and disappointment with terrifying articulation. Though it arose out of a particular era, Virginia Woolf remains a vital and vicious portrait of a marriage. It is about a specific, dysfunctional marriage, but it's also, ultimately, about marriage in general, and how frightening it is to live a truly examined life, bereft of illusions. 

The making of Virginia Woolf is laden with absolutely fascinating characters: Albee and his almost supernatural intelligence and wit, successful at such a young age; the obscenely glamorous Elizabeth Taylor and powerhouse husband Richard Burton, whose fame (infamy?) as a couple drove so many of the choices that were made about the movie; careful, introspective, insecure, and ultimately daring producer Ernest Lehman; and finally, perhaps the real star of the book, auteur Mike Nichols, whose work on Virginia Woolf seems to say to create a masterpiece you may need to be uncompromising, manipulative, and alienating.