People

The design capitalised on the intimacy of the Players Theatre by extending the set into the auditorium, thereby bringing the audience right into the mouldering interior of Stacpoole Hall.  The dark wallpaper, with undistinguished antique paintings hanging from the picture rail, extended deep into the stalls, while many of the onstage furnishings, which included a rich array of period dark wood furniture and flamboyant bric-a-brac, were initially shrouded in dust sheets.  The lighting design, focused around a practical chandelier downstage centre, appropriately used a cold palette and was full of gloomy corners in keeping with the abandoned grandeur of the house.

At the centre of all this faded magnificence we find Lady Dorothy Stacpoole and her companion, Iris.  The true nature of the relationship between the two women isn’t revealed until much later, but then this is a play which gives up its secrets quite slowly, and in which little is as it initially seems.  Despite Dorothy’s protestations that her ancestral home isn’t “Allegory House”, it is hard to escape the suggestion that this decaying pile is a metaphor for England.  What is going to become of it?  The influence of the church is manifest in the person of Dorothy’s sister June, an archdeacon, and the National Trust is embodied by Ralph Lumsden.  But who or what is represented by auctioneer Bevan, with his links to a wealthy but secretive group “The Concern”, or by Mr Theodore, an old friend of Dorothy’s now making a modest living in the adult entertainment industry?

However, all of these characters are far too complex and well-drawn to be simple expressions of what are, after all, complicated organisations and ideologies.  If Stacpoole Hall really is a metaphor for England, and that’s quite a big “If”, then Alan Bennett’s writing coupled with thoughtful direction largely leaves the audience free to make up its own mind about its current state and future prospects.

The director recognised the importance of get the cast “off book” as early as possible, realising that only then can the finer details of the characterisations be explored; and indeed, despite the issues around some members of the cast not quite knowing their lines well enough, the characterisation was good.  Each of the principal actors was able to bring out different facets of their role, giving them plausible complexity and making them much more than a simple manifestation of an idea or institution.  The costumes really helped with this: Iris’s vintage military greatcoat hinted at her age and allegiances, Dorothy’s haute couture spoke of her glamorous past and spirit of adventure, June’s skirt and jacket confirmed her conformist conservatism, while Bevan and Ralph donned the uniforms of their callings – a camel-hair coat for the auctioneer, and a red waistcoat and bow tie for the representative of the National Trust.  A selection of appropriate outdoor garments – a fur coat for Dorothy, a padded anorak for June – combined with woolly hats and fingerless gloves, illustrated the cold, damp environment in the house.

This was an enjoyable and thought-provoking production, full of incisive observations and gentle humour in Bennett’s trademark style.  There was strength in depth in the acting ensemble, and the technical standards were characteristically high.  In my opinion, it just needed that extra little bit of inner confidence in its delivery that would have really drawn us into Dorothy’s decaying house in the manner of the set, rather than generally keeping us at arm’s length because the artifice of performance was apparent too often.

© NODA CIO.  All rights reserved.

© NODA CIO. All rights reserved.