Cries in the Dark

She is severe, in the way unnecessary English spinsters of uncertain means and iffy social positions can be.

   After all, she knows what’s right.

   And what’s not.

   Leda Hodgson plays Miss Ruddock (she stopped being Irene when her mother died) in Alan Bennett’s small and succint one-act, one-person play, “A Lady of Letters.â€�

   Miss Ruddock watches her neighbors from a parlor window, mainly, and goes to the post office to mail letters, her only connection to a heedless world outside.

   The play, produced by Taconic Stage Company, and directed by Colin Wakefield is a gem. It feels as though Bennett had thought about Miss Ruddock for a while and then one afternoon sat down to write about her in a few minutes. It’s so lucid. And easy, every word of it telling. And devastating. And funny, in its peculiar way.

   Miss Ruddock writes letters about the length of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s hair, about dog leavings on the paving outside Buckingham Palace, about hearst drivers catching a smoke under the rhododendron leaves during a funeral service.

   Also, she watches.

   “If they knew they were being watched they might behave,â€� she says of her neighbors. But they do not know, and they do not seem to behave.

   She bears a heavy burden this woman. Bennett has her fretting and complaining and trying to right what’s wrong from her lonely little parlor.

   And it’s all so useless.

   And dangerous. Very.

   Because this is a fine, spare  play, and because Hodgson is a fine, precise actor, every moment counts. Every line matters. And the outcome, when you look back, is inevitable. And oddly  kind.

  “A Lady of Lettersâ€� by Alan Bennett (“The History Boys,â€� “The Madness of George III,â€� “The Habit of Art,â€� “Bed Among Lentilsâ€�) plays at St. John in the Wilderness Church in Copake Falls, NY,  through Sept. 5. For reservations, call 518-325-1234.

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