Three people incarcerated inside giant urns stand side by side on the postage stamp-sized stage at The Other Room. The trio are never seen at the same time, but spot-lit in quick succession as they deliver their rapid-fire lines. It's an odd set-up, but one which playwright Samuel Beckett was very particular about. Indeed, to change Beckett's specifications for Play would pretty much destroy the entire thing.
But while there may be three actors on stage (in their urns), Play actually has a cast of four, because stage manager Steffi Pickering has just as important a part to play - perhaps even more so - than the thespians. As each actor has to be in the spotlight as they say their lines - and as the lines are delivered with such uncompromising rapidity, one after the other, spilling back and forth between the three - it means Steffi has her work cut out making sure she keeps up with the spot. Beckett specified it must be one spotlight moving between the three, not three spotlights fading up and down.
And so what we get is a triumph of technical skill combined with some startlingly accomplished performances. Performance may be the wrong word to use, as Matthew Bulgo, Peta Cornish and Victoria John don't so much act as deliver. They are seen only from the neck up, they are caked in terracotta-like make-up, they do not blink and their faces barely break into any kind of expression (with a couple of exceptions). They are perfectly rehearsed to within an inch of their lives!
But these are not characters as such. They are called W1, W2 and M. They do not have names. Their sole purpose is to tell the audience about a love affair that M had with W2 behind W1's back. As I said, the lines are delivered with machine gun speed, but barely once do the actors trip over themselves in their pursuit of perfect rapidity (all three are word perfect, with John perhaps the fastest of all!). It's hard to latch on to what they are saying at first, so it's just as well that at the end of the story, it starts all over again and the lines are delivered a second time. Is there any difference between the two tellings? It was very difficult to tell, but the second time around I enjoyed hearing familiar lines from the first pass, distinctive phrases delivered in a distinctive way, perhaps to aid longevity.
Beckett's construction and strict stage directions are fascinating. Who knows what he meant by it all, and there have been various interpretations since it was first performed in Germany in 1963. Perhaps it merely represents how people can obsess over and fixate upon certain events in life, living them over and over in their minds, until they become almost like mini plays or films in their memories. No two people's memories of a single event are ever the same, and Play demonstrates the differences, without the clutter of a set or, indeed, character development. As for the urns? Who knows. But when it's presented with such skill and humour as here, it matters little. All that matters is the Play.
Coupled perfectly with Play is Harold Pinter's Silence, which riffs on a similar theme of perception of memory. It concerns three people - Ellen, Rumsey and Bates - who recount their interpretation of a love triangle they once entertained. The set is a stark nothingness, a timber and white tile void where the trio give voice to their thoughts.
They rarely interact, even though they are remembering one another. There is little plot to speak of, which makes Silence infamously difficult to sum up (and thus, review!). But it's more about the differences between each character's recollections and feelings about events than it is about incident. Some might think it pretentious, but there's a lot to be enjoyed in the cyclical intensity of the piece, even if the overall thread may be lost.
It would be interesting to hear what people have taken from Silence. I came away having enjoyed watching it, but not being sure about what I'd seen. If someone asked me afterwards in the bar what I thought, I'd find it a little tricky to reply.
And maybe that's the point. Pinter is focusing on language, or more accurately the silence used in language. He once wrote that there are two silences: the absence of words, and then when a torrent of language is being employed. It's what is meant but not said, the unspoken language of both silence and sound. You can speak without actually saying a thing, and what you're really saying may be unspoken. Some truths are apparent by their very absence.
Now if that isn't pretentious, nothing is!
Matthew Bulgo is brooding and melancholic as Rumsey, while Peta Cornish is prim but warm as wistful Ellen. Neal McWilliams gives a spirited performance, more animated and realistic than the other two, which makes Bates stand slightly apart from the pretention and intensity of the overall piece.
Silence is a difficult play to love, but it's performed with great power here, and despite Pinter specifying minimal, non-distracting design, Amy Jane Cook manages to impress with the stark simplicity of her set, which couples perfectly with Dyfan Jones's brooding, undulating score.
The stats
Play
Writer: Samuel Beckett
Director: Kate Wasserberg (assisted by Izzy Rabey)
Cast: Peta Cornish (W1); Victoria John (W2); Matthew Bulgo (M)
Silence
Writer: Harold Pinter
Director: Titas Halder (assisted by Izzy Rabey)
Cast: Matthew Bulgo (Rumsey); Peta Cornish (Ellen); Neal McWilliams (Bates)
Performed at The Other Room at Porter's, Cardiff, January 19th to February 5th, 2016. Performance reviewed: January 29th, 2016
Links
Play/ Silence at The Other Room website (retrieved Feb 1 2016)
Play script (retrieved Feb 1 2016)
Silence on Pinter website (retrieved Feb 1 2016)
Trailer for Play/ Silence at The Other Room (retrieved Feb 1 2016)
Play filmed by Anthony Minghella and performed by Alan Rickman, Kristin Scott Thomas and Juliet Stevenson (2001) (retrieved Feb 1 2016)
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