There is no doubt, Florian Zeller’s latest play, The
Height of the Storm, is baffling. One
half of an elderly couple has died but which one? Is it like Zeller’s previous play, The Father,
where we’re seeing events unfold through the eyes of someone with dementia? Or is the memory just playing tricks? Is the female visitor really a strong clue
that the husband misbehaved during his fifty-year marriage? Despite scenes jumping back and forth and the
uncertainty of whether or not certain characters are ghosts, these questions
are answered, but they unfold slowly and you’re never entirely sure that those
ones you’ve worked out are indeed correct.
Mind you, there is also no doubt that it would be extremely difficult to
see acting of this calibre anywhere else on a London stage.
The couple in question, Andre (interestingly
the same name Zeller gave to the
main character in The Father) and
Madeleine, are beautifully portrayed by Jonathan
Pryce and Eileen Atkins (need I
say more) and the play opens with Andre staring out of the kitchen window. His bossy eldest daughter, Anne (Amanda Drew) is unable to get him to
engage in conversation, lost as he is in thought or memory. It’s when an anonymous bunch of funeral
flowers arrive that a death in the family is registered. But whose death, because Madeleine is soon seen
peeling mushrooms for lunch.
The other rather scatty daughter, Elise (Anna Madeley) arrives and it’s clear
that the siblings are keen to sell the family home, much to the fury of their
father. And no wonder, for Anthony Ward has designed a cosy, if
cluttered, provincial, high ceilinged, French house, painted in duck egg blue
and lined head to toe with densely packed books. That books dominate the parts of the house we
see is not surprising, as Andre is an eminent writer; or should I say, was?
One soon realises that the only person Andre
really wants to engage with is his wife.
He is especially reluctant to meet and react to a woman (Lucy Cohu) a supposedly old lover of
his great friend, Georges, whom Madeleine has met whilst shopping and
subsequently invited back for tea. For Georges should we read Andre?
If this all sounds too muddled and
complicated and not worth the bother, then think again. The whole play is ingenious and incredibly
moving and any fogginess suffered by the audience only serves to heighten Andre’s
problem with memory and the beginning of his dementia.
It helps that the performances all round are spot
on. One of my favourite actors, Jonathan Pryce, hands shaking, steps
faltering, is consumed with sadness and confusion. At times awkward and autocratic, but always
dependent, this magnetic actor delivers a beautiful nuanced performance. And one that leaves us in no doubt that his
love for Madeleine is deep and sincere, no matter what has happened throughout
their fifty-year marriage. The great Eileen Atkins portrays Madeleine as severe
and stiff, yet another wife overshadowed by a very successful novelist husband
(Jonathan Pryce seems to be the go
to actor for playing brilliant authors right now). But her subtle shift in the heart-breaking
final scene when the hardness dissolves and we’re made aware that her love for
Andre is no less sincere, had me grabbing a tissue or three.
I’m relieved that it’s not just me who found
The Height of the Storm confusing at
first. It’s translator, Christopher Hampton, admits to having
needed a second viewing of all Zeller’s plays in order to follow them
clearly. Likewise, Eileen Atkins, when interviewed, said she was rather muddled during
her first reading of the script. What I’m
more relieved about is that I have had the chance to see Jonathan Kent’s deeply moving production that studies the pain of
losing one’s grip on reality and being the half of one whole who is finally
left on their own.
