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Author
Christopher
Hampton
Directed
by
David Grindley
Designed
by
Tim Shortall
Philip
Simon
Russell Beale
Donald
Danny Webb
Celia
Anna Madeley
Braham
Simon Day
Araminta
Siobhan Hewlett
John
Simon Bubb
Liz
Bernadette
Russell
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Donmar
Warehouse
8
Sept - 15 Oct 2005 |
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Intelligent
wit is one chief characteristic
of this play, and the poignancy
of innocence is another. Philip,
the Oxford don whose interest
is philology - words: words
themselves, not necessarily
what they might be arranged
into sentences to say - is
a Prince Myshkin figure, an
innocent who loves everyone
(hence, The Philanthropist)
by default, and who is so
eager to please that he thereby
does harm, almost exclusively
to himself. In a world of
people who are anything but
innocent he is bound to fail
in what matters most to him
- at the juncture of the play,
his love (which he can scarcely
articulate, and when he does
it comes out as need) for
Celia - and fail he does.
Constructed out of such clever,
insightful and funny writing,
it would be hard for this
play to fail; but put it into
the hands of a cast as good
as this and the result is
very successful theatre. Simon
Russell Beale is excellent
as Philip, hesitant and unsure,
but not a fool, keen to make
others feel good about everything,
but conscious of the futility
of doing so, and the probability
of back-fire. When the luscious
and predatory Araminta propositions
him he cannot refuse, out
of sheer politeness, though
it is the last thing he wishes
to do.
The luscious and predatory
Araminta is played by the
luscious and accomplished
Siobhan Hewlett, whose riveting
stage presence and ease in
the part of seductress would
have stolen any other show.
But with the likes of Danny
Webb as the cynical don Donald,
Simon Day as the ghastly but
honest popular-novelist Braham,
and the consummate Anna Madeley
as Celia, she is in a cohort
of show-stealers. The trickiest
part (after Philip) is Celia,
for she has to be believable
despite a major opening improbability:
clever, quick, witty, attractive
Celia is going to marry vague,
ineffectual, indecisive, word-tinkering
anagram-making Philip? Well:
it is equally improbable that
vamp Araminta wants to sleep
with him (to do her credit,
she at least does not want
to sleep with him AGAIN; and
she had after all been hoping
to bed Braham, except that
he had taken Celia off after
the dinner party - and had
slept with her). But the spindle
on which all turns is the
fact that Celia is looking
for an excuse to get out of
that improbable forthcoming
marriage to Philip, and it
is in the touching scene where
she effects the split that
the play's poignancy comes
fully into view.
This is a good play, and it
is here extremely well played.
The Donmar does delicious
things, and this is one of
them: ėThe Philanthropist'
should go on to a bigger theatre
for a longer run so that more
of us can see it, and see
it again.
Those intrigued by Dr James
Methven's introductory remarks
about Oxford academics and
anagrams might like to make
a start with random thoughts
about the dry living dead
- and proceed from there.
AC
Grayling |
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