Like ripping off a dramatic plaster, now that I’ve done one show’s worth of Harold Pinter it’s time to plunge headfirst into another. Pinter Three down, Pinter Four to go.
This time, it’s a much more straightforward double header: two one act plays, Moonlight and Night School. The cast is bigger, there are two very different productions helmed by two very different directors and all is still very much on track in my newfound appreciation of your man Harold.
Moonlight is up first, directed by Lyndsey Turner. Telling a story of death, regret and unconnectedness, this is much more what I thought Pinter was. The text is dense, complex and funny with flashes of anger. The structure is, for me, a bit confusing: the story is split between straightforward narrative sequences (man on deathbed) and some more esoteric sequences of his children, struggling to face up to his mortality, talking about him in code. Or talking about unrelated people not in code? I’m not sure and I sort of gave up trying to figure it out because, regardless, the narrative bits are so strong. And just like really funny.
Turner’s direction is great; feisty but light touch. She measures up the two halves of the play really well and delivers something balanced and lively with plenty of space to breathe. Soutra Gilmour’s design is fantastic again. A much more enclosed setting - happening as all of the action across both bits of the story does in the same bedroom - but still really evocative. This one is particularly well lit by Jon Clarke too. Nothing bright or flashy, quite the opposite, but all the more effective for it.
Once again, we’re blessed with a top drawer cast led by one of my absolute faves, Robert Glenister (that he is the superior Glenister brother is a hill I’m prepared to die on). He is superb in the central role, on stage all the time, and just endlessly watchable. He has great support from Brid Brennan as his long suffering wife. They have great chemistry whilst providing great contrast. I wish the whole play was them to be honest. That said, there are scene stealing cameos from Peter Polycarpou and Janie Dee to play with as well. The latter in particular is an utter joy.
If Moonlight is what I thought I was signing up for with a day of Pinter, Night School is, like all of Pinter Three, really rather not. This is much more broadly comedic, and structurally much more straightforward, even if the themes of secrets and identity are perhaps much closer to what I was expecting.
Directed with musical flair and rhythm (figurative and literal, I loved the addition of a live drummer to punctuate the action) by Ed Stambollouian, Night School tells the story of a young guy returning home from prison to find his aunts have let his room to a school teacher with a secret. The production is pacy and spiky and quick. The design is, again, fantastic and I laughed a lot, both with and at characters.
The performances here are pure class. Janie Dee and Brid Brennan steal things once again as the aunts, a winning combination of doddery and sly. I missed them a lot when they weren’t on stage - which thankfully was not often. Al Weaver takes the young lead and runs with it, really seizing the opportunity to show what he can do. He’s great fun and incredibly sympathetic as the probably less hapless than everyone thinks wannabe forger. Robert Glenister pops in too, just to remind everyone that he’s excellent in another supremely charismatic turn. This piece feels much more like a team sport than Moonlight, and the team is David Beckham era Man United.
Pinter Four is another strong entry in the Pinter at the Pinter season and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Top drawer cast, top drawer production and yet more surprises for this non-Pinter expert. Highly worth your time.
Pinter Four is part of The Jamie Lloyd Company’s Pinter at the Pinter season at the Harold Pinter theatre (AND I AM NOW SICK OF TYPING THE WORD PINTER) and plays until 8th December.
My tickets for this one were once again kindly provided by the production and I sat in the much more appropriate to my station D6 in the Dress Circle. This seat has a properly restricted view (it’s behind a pillar - told you I got the fancy stalls seat by accident) but it’s easy, if not comfortable, enough to lean out into the aisle to make it not have. It would normally cost £15 and for that amount, for a short show with an interval, is reasonable value.
Stagey confession: I have never seen a Harold Pinter play. Ever. I don’t know why particularly. I don’t think it’s a conscious decision. It’s just never happened. Come to think of it, I don’t actually know that much about his writing style even, beyond the eponymous pause.
Jamie Lloyd’s Pinter at the Pinter series, reviving lesser known short plays, monologues and comedy sketches, is probably quite an odd place to start my Pinter education but here we are. Specifically, I’m starting at Pinter Three comprising eleven assorted pieces: short plays Landscape, Night and A Kind of Alaska; sketches Apart From That, That’s All, That’s Your Trouble and Trouble in the Works; and monologues Girls, God’s District, Monologue and Special Offer. Eclectic.
I have to say, as a concept I find this Pinter Pick N Mix kind of weird - there’s no particular single thematic thread tying everything together, no real common motifs - but it does work, largely because it’s all done so bloody well. And I have to say it’s blown most of my Pinter preconceptions away: Pinter Three and its various parts are not what I thought Pinter was at all. It’s so much more humane, so much funnier and so much more concerned with people and their relationships than I expected. It’s an extremely pleasant surprise, to be honest.
Jamie Lloyd’s direction (he is in the chair for everything in Three) is assured and confident, and the piece as a whole is arranged well. The sketches and monologues he’s included here are fairly slight, even though they’re all really well done and funny/touching as required, so to book end them as he has - we open with Landscape and close with A Kind of Alaska, both of which are weighty in their own right - with the bigger dramatic bits is clever. It keeps things moving nicely. Technically, the whole thing is cleverly put together too, with Soutra Gilmour’s revolving, adaptable, multipurpose set allowing for seamless transitions between bits.
The cast assembled to bring this all to life is also a bit of a dream, as it is throughout the Pinter at the Pinter season it must be said: Keith Allen, Tom Edden, Lee Evans, Tamsin Greig and Meera Syal. Greig and Syal are particular highlights, the latter getting to show off a range from mischievous through to grieving and the former doing all of the emotional heavy lifting extraordinarily well. Keith Allen continues to be Keith Allen, delivering the Keith Allen-y parts with aplomb. Evans and Edden bring the majority of the lolz but are also given chances to show off their acting chops which they dutifully exploit. It’s all a bit squad goals, to be honest. I want to hang out with these people.
Now I’m not going to sit here and separately review every single piece because you’ve got better things to do and so have I. But there are some clear highlights. A Kind of Alaska is worth the price of a ticket alone, Greig commanding the stage utterly as a patient waking from a coma to try and reconcile with her current life and family (sister Syal and doctor/brother in law Allen). It’s gorgeously written and beautifully performed. Landscape too, teaming Allen and Greig up again as a husband and wife at odds. Of the sketches and monologues, I loved Girls, Tom Edden showing off his verbal gymnastics, and Monologue, Lee Evans reminding us all that he can legit act as well as pull funny faces. Trouble in the Works is great fun too, Edden and Evans relishing being funny men saying funny words. It’s all good though; a bit random but good.
Overall, I really rated Pinter Three. Whether you know your Pinter or not, I’d wager there’s something new for you here. Funny, touching, and staged and performed with real class. Solidly good stuff.
Pinter Three is part of The Jamie Lloyd Company’s Pinter at the Pinter season, and plays at the Harold Pinter Theatre (obvs) until December 8th.
My ticket for this was generously provided by the production. I sat in F16 in the stalls which would normally cost £99.50. Which is obviously ridiculous. (I am 100% certain I was allocated this seat by accident by the way. Check out the epic downgrade I got for Pinter Four later the same day if you don’t believe me.)
