Tom Stoppard and Director Patrick Marber are once again
united, this time at Wyndham’s Theatre. The production in question is Stoppard’s latest, and most personal
play, Leopoldstadt. It wasn’t until relatively recently that he
discovered he was “wholly” Jewish, rather a surprise to this brilliant
playwright. Although born in Moravia,
Czechoslovakia, whilst still a young child he, his parents and brother emigrated
to England, and he considered himself very much English.
Leopoldstadt (the name given
to a district of Vienna that still evokes images of Jewish life)) is the result
of this revelation and is loosely based on Tom
Stoppard’s family. The play starts
in the year 1899 and includes scenes in the years 1900, 1924, 1938 and, finally
1955. Centred round a Viennese family,
it tells their story of initial optimism that their Jewish life is becoming increasingly
secure, through to the realisation that this is definitely not the case. No wonder Stoppard’s mother was loath to
admit to her Jewishness.
There is a huge cast of nearly
forty and the play opens and closes with the majority of them on stage. Firstly to introduce them to us and finally
to highlight the horrors that befell so many of them. In between we’re treated to insights into
what it meant to be Jewish during these times, much humour and devastating sadness. In truth a brilliant essay on humanity (and
lack of it), with more than a sprinkling of history. Patrick
Marber gracefully steers each and every cast member, no mean feat with so
many bodies on stage, and each scene in whichever year it’s set, is beautifully
realised thanks, in part, to Costume
Designer Brigitte Reiffenstuel.
In 1899, Vienna is at the hub of
art, psychology and mathematics and there is much talk of plans for a Jewish
homeland. Hermann Merz (the brilliant Adrian Scarborough) is a successful
businessman and an optimist. He is
convinced that the Jews will soon be assimilated into the social hierarchy of
Vienna, and will no longer be confined to the Leopoldstadt. His wife, Gretl (the excellent Faye Castelow) is a Catholic and
Hermann has converted to her faith. He
adores her and the scene set in the following year, when she is seduced, albeit
willingly, by Fritz, a young Aryan officer (Luke Thallon) highlights this devotion. Hermann comes to realise his wife’s betrayal
when he self-righteously confronts the young lieutenant about a supposed insult. What is so clever about Scarborough’s performance is the way he transforms from a man
convinced he has the higher moral ground, to one visibly shrinking into utter
dismay and nervous unease. Thallon,
on the other hand is full of disdain and superiority, declaring the impossibility
of a duel taking place, considering Jews have no honour. In the final act he changes roles and becomes
Leo, Ludwig’s grandson, a version of Stoppard
himself. It took me several minutes to
realise this transformative actor had earlier been Fritz, such is his
metamorphosis from one role to the next.
Much of the humour is to be found
in the year 1938 when one of the infant Merz’s is due to be circumcised. The scene wouldn’t be that out of place in a
farce, as a visiting lawyer is mistaken for the doctor who is due to carry out
the procedure. By contrast, when the play moves onto the year 1938, just before
Kristallnacht, there are no laughs, just the terrifying realisation of what is
going to happen to the family.
The play isn’t without its
faults. Stoppard imparts many fascinating insights and information
regarding what it meant (and to some extend means) to be Jewish. For the most part, this is done succinctly
and fuels the plot rather than impedes it.
However, Ludwig, the mathematician of the family, and well played by Tom Stoppard’s son Ed (a relevant piece of casting) does get rather bogged down in
slightly excessive explanation. However,
this is a very minor criticism. If Leopoldstadt is this eighty-two
year-old’s final play (and I very much hope that’s not the case) it is a
worthwhile finale.
