Review: Private Lives, Roman Theatre of Verulamium

Review: Private Lives, Roman Theatre of Verulamium

Summary

Rating

60

Good

An engagingly performed classic comedy of manners that leans a little heavily on humour at the expensive of Coward’s cutthroat commentary.

OVO and Adam Nichols resurrect one of Noël Coward’s most popular plays in the glorious sunshine. And this 1930s venom-filled tragicomedy set partly on a balcony should feel right at home in the crumbling amphitheatre the Roman Theatre of Verulamium, shouldn’t it? I mean they are both outside, and both involve historic exhibitions of cruelty.

This is the perfect romp, with an air of sophistication, cocktails, and the looming spectre of domestic abuse and co-dependency. Its première in 1930 caused scandal and mixed reviews despite having Coward himself and Laurence Olivier in the cast. Critics wrote of its complexity and many mentioned the need for an exemplary cast to balance the tightrope walk of wit and worry, bloodlust and bawdiness. It’s a play teetering on the shoddy balcony of marriage, metaphorically and physically.

The premise is simple. Elyot and Amanda divorced five years ago. Now both on honeymoon with their respective new spouses, they have inadvertently booked adjacent hotel rooms linked by a balcony. Hilarity, caustic jibes, and jolly raucousness follow as the two battle their reignited feelings. It’s part clash of personalities, part cynical exploration of when love turns sour.

With just four characters and a maid, in only two locations, it is very much Coward’s script on show, and heavy leg work for our lead couple. Emma Wright is Amanda, potentially one of my favourite female roles in theatre. Androgynous, comedically immoral, and panther-like, she’s a gay man’s heaven in female form. Wright’s interpretation has flair but gets bogged down with overly-grand and languid gestures. Her best moments are the later scenes where Amanda and Elyot (Mat Betteridge) ricochet off each other. They have a blinding spark together and, although in a deeply unhealthy relationship, are engaging to watch. Betteridge gets the English gent spot on, confident in this controversial role: a brutish, unreliable, mischievous, and at times abusive character, certainly at odds with modern ideas of romance. But we will touch on that later.

Their spouses are demanding parts in their own way, named by the playwright as “extra puppets, lightly wooden ninepins, only to be repeatedly knocked down and stood up again”. Coward puts much less effort into their psychological complexity, but Charlie Clee as the devoted yet wet Victor and Grace Bassett as the irritatingly feminine Sybil do their best, however little meat they are given.

Nichols’s directorial choices are rather mystifying. Characters burst into song at the piano despite a range of vocal abilities or really much explanation. Yet interestingly none of them sing Coward’s own songs (Some Day I’ll Find You was written for the play specifically) but electro-swing versions of pop songs. Why?

Additionally, the role of the French maid Louise (Josephine Rattigan) and other moments throughout have an added layer of gratuitous slapstick. This is an energetic and high-class comedy and not a farce: direction should rely on talented actors breathing life into a much-loved script.

Lastly, the proclivity of Elyot and Amanda for hitting each other is softened so much that it almost seems like a pillow fight, just with fists. Like racism or homophobia in an older script, a director has two choices, recontextualize the issue, or ignore it. I think we know which one I prefer.

The Donmar Warehouse vamped up the violence in their recent revival, exposing the brutality of early 20th century thinking, but then struggled to land the comedy. Nichols’s choice to veer off and highlight the jokes might seem wider reaching but is certainly not as arresting, leaving this production heavy on manic laughter and not much else. The razor edge always concealed in Coward’s words is dulled and blunted by the stones of the crumbling Roman walls around us.

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Written by: Noël Coward
Directed by: Adam Nichols
Produced by: OVO

Private Lives plays at St Alban’s Roman Theatre of Verulamium until 19 August. Further information and bookings can be found here.