I saw this play on Broadway either in 1977 or 1978, just about the time when the story line ends in the movie version that covers 1951 when Doris and George first meet to 1977, not when they stop their annual rendezvous but when George asks Doris to marry him after his wife dies.
Although I can't remember who starred in the production in NYC, several of the key events remained etched in my memory and I always held the premise of such a long term affair as believable and natural. What struck me more this time was how each of the lovers tried on different personae through the years, displaying outward poses and contemporary facades that often clashed with their lover's ideology at that point in time. But despite chafing politics, out of sync cycles in business careers, and other events of everyday life, their relationship rested on bedrock.
What also dated the premise is of course, the setting is well before cell phones and email and they never contact each other the other 363 days of the year. At times of stress, they might have called but hung up before anyone answered. Trying to catch up on a year of experiences over a long weekend strikes me like those horrible notes people stick in their Christmas cards to recap to long lost and seldom thought of acquaintances only those banner headline events that happened over the past twelve months.
Although Doris does not accept George's marriage offer, she is in anguish, trying to balance an annual weekend of passion and love against those other 51 weeks where she lives with a family who knows who her favorite movie actors are and the name of her perfume. George does not give her up despite her saying no, because it is not a negation of their long lasting love. They have a treasure that does not tarnish or diminish from time or distance or convention.
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