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Written
by
Edward
Bond
Director
Jonathan
Kent
Designer
Paul Brown
Willy
Carson
Harry Lloyd
Evens
David Burke
Louise
Rafi
Eileen Atkins
Jessica
Tilehouse
Marcia Warren
Hatch
David Haig
Rose
Jones
Mariah Gale
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Theatre
Royal Haymarket
17
January - 19 April 2008 |
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The Sea,
written in 1973, is described
as Edward Bond's only 'comedy'.
It does have a lot of very
funny lines and it certainly
produces a lot of laughter
- at times it is almost farcical
- but ultimately the general
feeling is still more of poetic
tragedy. But then, as one
of the characters says, 'Without
tragedy, no one can laugh.'
Jonathan Kent's production
at the Haymarket opens dramatically,
with thunder and lightning
and a semi-transparent curtain
with images of crashing waves.
A young man is standing in
the centre shouting for help
and in the distance are two
other men, both shouting,
although one of them is shouting
insults. This curtain of sea
reappears between scenes throughout
the play, the images sometimes
crashing and rolling, sometimes
calm, creating a genuine sense
of the sea's danger but also
of its moods.
Suddenly we are in a shop
and David Haig's obsequious
draper is bowing and fawning
to Eileen Atkins' supreme
Mrs Rafi. Elegant and superior,
she commands respect from
both Hatch and her companion,
Jessica Tilehouse (another
beautiful performance from
Marcia Warren). In one lovely
exchange, Mrs Rafi demands
to see his range of gloves;
she is rude about all of them
until she finds a pair that
seems to her liking. She tries
one on, and then decides to
test how it would wear - by
banging her fist down on the
counter so hard, it splits
the glove. Hatch can barely
restrain himself, and before
the scene has ended we begin
to see the other side of Mr
Hatch. In between his polite
responses, his anger at the
way Mrs Rafi behaves begins
to seep through and we sense
that he isn't entirely balanced.
Hatch is a member of the coastguard,
and we soon discover that
in the storm during the night,
a boat turned over and a man
was drowned and Hatch didn't
do anything to save him. Because,
according to him, much darker
things are afoot. Convinced
that the men in the boat were
aliens from another planet
he tries desperately to get
rid of the one who survived,
Willy Carson.
Willy, meanwhile, is more
interested in finding the
body of his friend and consoling
the man's fiancee, Mrs Rafi's
neice. The young couple are
caught in the middle of the
madness around them. On the
one hand, Mrs Rafi and her
amateur dramatics, rehearsing
a version of *Orpheus*, and
on the other, Mr Hatch, plotting
with the other members of
the coastguard to free themselves
from the aliens who are taking
over. In this bleak situation,
the couple's only hope is
escape.
The best scenes in the play
take place in Hatch's shop
between the draper and Mrs
Rafi: she calm and in control,
even when he is attacking
her, every other word intoned
with disdain; he alternating
between slipperiness and rage;
and Jessica on the outskirts
of the action adding her own
inimitable touches of comedy.
The acting here is generally
superb. The 1991 production
at The National Theatre, with
Judi Dench, Ken Stott and
Celia Imrie was still vivid
in my mind, but now those
images have been replaced
with Eileen Atkins' Mrs Rafi,
all wonderful poise and chilling
contempt, Marcia Warren's
hilarious put-upon but wonderfully
resilient sidekick and David
Haig's distraught Hatch, throwing
himself around the stage in
a frenzy.
The problem with the play
is that it's hard to be sure
what it's really about in
the end, although obviously
it touches on major themes.
But in spite of that, it is
definitely worth seeing. And
as Bond puts it so aptly in
one of Mrs Rafi's patronising
remarks: You can say anything
you like as long as you can
carry it off. This gorgeous
production does indeed carry
it off.
Francine
Brody |
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