Review: Talking Heads, The White Bear Theatre

These two monologues, both from the original six Talking Heads that Alan Bennett wrote for television in 1988, are so well known in their original televised form to audiences of my generation that, as I approached the White Bear Theatre, I found myself wondering what might possess actors and directors to take on such formidable material.

However, not only do both actors succeed in supplanting memories of those iconic performances, but the overall conception of the evening – the way in which director and designer have drawn the two pieces together to communicate their simultaneously hilarious and devastating truths – is nothing short of awe-inspiring. The elevated level of understanding here and the attention to what remains unsaid brings something genuinely fresh to these familiar texts.

If you’re not familiar with it, Bennett’s writing is ostensibly humorous, but it is a wit carrying a heavy burden: tragic tales of lives gradually subsumed by the untameable, stormy seas of other people’s desires.

In Her Big Chance, Georgie Rodgers is younger and more fresh-faced than many who have taken on this role, and the casting proves inspired. The dramatic irony is sharpened by her youth: the audience grasps what is happening to her long before she approaches any level of self-awareness. Her earnestness is quietly devastating in its expression of her hopes.

In Soldiering On, Rowena Bentley picks up the baton and runs with it. This portrait of the slow erosion of self following the death of a husband is harrowing in its restraint. One might not expect financial fraud and buried sexual trauma to sit beneath the surface of such polite conversation, yet Bentley navigates Bennett’s dual layers of meaning with deft assurance.

The end result, in both pieces, is utterly heartbreaking. This success is a testament to Emily Oulton’s direction as well as each actor’s performance. The White Bear Theatre is a challenging space, too, with seating on two perpendicular sides and much of the adjoining area obscured by backstage requirements. It is difficult to imagine a more demanding environment for solo performance, yet both actors inhabit it fully; physically, emotionally, and with striking intimacy.

They are further supported by an elegant design. I recently lamented an over-insistent naturalistic set in another production I reviewed, but here George P Martin delivers precisely the opposite. The stage is veiled in soft gauze, gradually drawn open by Rodgers and finally closed again by Bentley. Within sits a simple room, similarly shrouded, ethereal, and suggestive, and never in competition with the performers. The effect is evocative without being prescriptive, and is stunningly beautiful. Subtle lighting (sadly uncredited in the programme) illuminates corners of the space in much the same way that Bennett’s writing illuminates the inner lives of his characters. This along with the deliberately revealing costumes means that the actors are left with nowhere to hide.  This is a wonderful example of direction, set design and costume design working together with a consummate understanding of the text. 

The demands of such sustained monologue do, on occasion, show. There are moments where lines are lost or actors falter. Yet it speaks volumes for the achievement of the evening that these slips never break the spell; the emotional depths into which the audience are drawn are never diminished. 

Directed by Emily Oulton
Set and costume design by George P Martin
Sound direction by Fergus Carver
Production stage management by Genevieve Papadopoulos
Assistant direction by Kazue Horimasu

Talking Heads plays the White Bear Theatre until Saturday 11 April