What
a treat to see two theatrical knights effortlessly (or so it seems) give it
their all in Harold Pinter’s
infuriating but excellent 1975 play, No
Mans Land. Of course Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart do not disappoint and neither do the remaining two
members of the cast, Owen Teale and Damien Molony. A brilliant cast of four, performing in a play
by a brilliant playwright; what could be better? As it happens not much, because this
production at Wyndhams Theatre is a
delight from start to finish.
Nothing
much happens in No Man’s Land,
although there is a continuous atmosphere of “Pinter” unease throughout. Will something nasty happen or not? Stephen
Brimson Lewis’s exquisite set sets the scene from the start. Before lights up, we view a gloomy night-time
copse, which soon gives way to a smart library belonging to successful literary
figure, Hirst (Patrick Stewart). He has brought Spooner (McKellen) a failed poet, back to his house for a late night glass
of malt whisky, or should I say glasses, following their meeting in a North
London pub. The two men’s outward
appearance couldn’t be more different.
Hirst oozes wealth in his beautifully tailored pinstripe suit and bow
tie, whilst Spooner’s cheap suit is crumpled and he exudes more than a whiff of
seediness. Whilst Hirst assumes an air
of quiet superiority, the loquacious Spooner attempts to ingratiate himself
with his host. What follows is a conversation
between the two men, the content of which may or may not be true (but probably
isn’t). On the arrival of Briggs (Owen
Teale) some kind of major-domo to Hirst and Foster (Damien Molony), who may or may not be his son (but probably isn’t),
their menacing air towards the interloper, racks up the tension. Is their resentment towards him anything to
do with their sexual proclivity? The
following morning, after Spooner has spent the night locked in the room, the
two older men continue their bewildering exchange, with Hirst now appearing to
remember Spooner from his past (or does he?).
Confusing? Yes, very. Although it
could all be the result of one or other, or both of the older men suffering
from some kind of dementia, no-one really knows. This is Pinter land at it’s
confusing best.
Sean Mathias’s tight production enables
these two elderly actors to prove that they are far from being past their
prime, even managing to ensure that McKellen
resists any desire to overact. There is
a wonderful moment when Spooner’s pursed lips (the result of Hirst admitting
that he slept with his wife) speak volumes.
In addition the two younger men more than hold their own in such
esteemed company and play the Kray like heavies to perfection.
The
two hours fly by. I can’t pretend to
understand the play, but what I do know is that those two hours are an absolute
joy. It is an enormous privilege to
watch two superlative actors reprise their double handed sparring match
following Waiting for Godot in 2009. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it were to ever
happen again?
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